Sorry, I know last chapter was kind of just one long conversation... BUT THIS CHAPTER SHIT IS GOING TO GO DOWN, I PROMISE!
They all stared at the door for a moment. Neither Tyler or Taylor was particularily eager to get it, the deaths of many, many SHIELD agents still fresh (or, in Tyler's case, slightly hazy and tinted green) in their minds. Reagan started towards the door, feeling a responsiblity to get it since she was the babysitter and all, but Taylor stuck out an arm to block her.
"Wait. JARVIS, who's outside?" she asked, directing the question towards the ceiling.
"I do not recognize him, Miss Stark. Would you like me to inquire as to his name?" the echoey British voice responded.
Reagan jumped and looked around when she heard the voice, and Taylor had to grab her arm to calm her down.
"Crap, he doesn't have Wordwide Facial Cross-Referenced Recognition software built in yet," Tyler said with a frown. "JARVIS, can you pull up the security feed on the TV instead?"
"Certainly."
"What good will that do?" Taylor asked.
"Well, we don't know who it is, but we might recognize them when we see them on the big screen. Plus we'll be able to tell if they're carrying a gun, which will be good to know if we ever intend on answering that door."
"But we only know what they look like in the future. We might not recognize them in the past."
"Fair point."
An image popped up on the screen, although, it being Tony Stark's house, who was both rich and a technological genius, the image was as clear as looking through a window. Both twins recognized the man immediately, and Taylor had to smile.
"Boy, some people just do not change."
She was right. Agent Phil Coulson looked exactly like he did when he was 'Uncle Phil', ten years in the future. He was tapping his foot patiently, and the twins quickly went into a hurried discussion.
"What do we do?" Tyler asked frantically.
"Why are you asking me? You're the one who always has the plan, remember?"
"Not when it comes to SHIELD, you know that!"
"Fine. We'll ask Reagan to make a plan. She isn't emotionally scarred," Taylor snapped.
Tyler shrugged in agreement and both twins turned to face their babysitter, who looked completely lost. Tyler realized suddenly that they were going to have to fill her in on the reasons for their indecisiveness if they were ever going to decide whether or not to open the door.
"Okay, so that guy out there is our Uncle Phil. He's nice and awesome and looks exactly the same in the future, but in this time he works for SHIELD, and they're the douchebags who tortured us after they created us in their lab," Tyler explained quickly.
"If we open the door, two things might happen. He might listen to us, or he might haul us back to his bosses," Taylor continued.
"And as nice as number one would be, we can't risk number two happening," Tyler finished.
Reagan had been following along, and when the twins had finished speaking in tandem, she nodded briskly. "Go hide. I'll answer the door. I'll ask him what he's here for and if he mentions you, I don't know you. If he mentions something else, I play along. I'll try to get a read on him, see if he's the sort that would drag lost and confused kids out to a goverment facility for testing or not."
Tyler and Taylor both stared at her for a moment. "That's... actually a really awesome idea," Tyler said.
"Thank you. I know. Now scoot!" Reagan scolded, making shooing motions with her hands. The twins dashed out of the living room and hid in a closet in Tony's bedroom, wincing at the evidence that their father was very much still living life the playboy way.
Reagan shouted at the door, "I'll be right there! Sorry!" before killing the security feed on the television screen and running to the door. She pulled it open, taking deep breaths so it would appear that she had just run to get to the door in time. Coulson smiled in greeting.
"Hello, miss. Is Virginia Potts here?"
"I'm afraid not, sir. She's had a lot of extra work to do, picking up all the extra slack since Mr. Stark has gone missing. She's worried sick about him," Reagan added to help sell the illusion. Everything she had said hadn't technically been a lie, but she was focused more on getting her image down. Right now, she was playing the role of the dedicated and trusted assisstant. Maybe one who knew this gig could lead to better things, and was fresh out of a prestigious college. Harvard, she decided.
"I understand. Would you please let me know when she comes back? My company uses Stark Industries tech, and we are very worried about whether our current contract will be perpetuated in the event of the unfortunate." This was bullshit, and Reagan knew it. The trick was in not letting on that she knew, instead maintaining the image of a young and smart pair of breasts hired by Tony Stark for two of the three aforementioned qualities.
"Maybe I could help you, sir. I was, after all, hired to help relieve Mr. Stark's workload. If you would give me the name of your company, I can research the details of your contract and tell you whether it will be perpetuated. We have had many clients call and ask similar questions, although you have been the only one so far who cares so much about maintaining a professional relationship with Stark Industries that you actually came to Mr. Stark's house. I assure you that we are flattered by your concern and value your business highly, but I fear you went to an unnecessary amount of trouble coming here in person when you could have just called," Reagan finished, feeling slightly out of breath.
She knew why Coulson was there. She also knew that when new clients signed up with Stark Industries, they were ensured that the billionaire's more self-destructive qualities wouldn't harm their own company by signing a lease stating that the only party who could discontinue the business relationship was the client, unless the client committed some felony or something. Reagan didn't remember the specifics.
"Thank you, ma'am, but I am of the belief that business meeting should always be conducted face to face, which is why I came here today."
"Sir, you could have gone to the actual Stark Industries building downtown. That is where Mrs. Potts is currently, and it would be better for conducting actual business. In fact," Reagan said, making a show of checking her watch, "If you leave now, you should still be able to catch her there."
Coulson nodded. He wasn't sure what to say. Every time he spoke, the helpful girl seemed to deflect him. He shouldn't be suspicious, but no one was that good. He forced a smile and said a complementary good-bye, turning away and tapping the button on his keyfob.
Reagan pulled the door shut and sighed in relief, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor. She liked to think of herself of having a thousand faces, but staying in a persona could be exausting. Still, she supposed that was what happened when you were a time traveler. You never knew whether you would have to be a nurse, a teacher, a soldier, or a lawyer.
She smiled, thinking about the time she had spent doing- just about everything, really- and went to give her young charges the all-clear.
I think I'm going to give Reagan her own story, actually. Let me know if you like that idea, please!