A/N: most profuse apologies, and I hope you're still hanging in there! Here is a long-awaited update.
Almost Man on a Mission
Ashley woke to find Nick gone. Not entirely sure she was surprised, relieved, or perturbed. For entirely too long now, she wasn't sure just what to feel. Traipsing through the house, she started to pick up things as she came across them, until disgustedly, dejectedly, she dropped them. Let him pick up this mess, she groused, he's a big boy. She got a cup of coffee brewing instead and leaned over the counter waiting for it to percolate.
Sipping the strong brew once it was done, she double checked the garage and confirmed his truck was gone. So weird, she thought, then wondered briefly if he would sneak out to touch base with Nicole again. It was an unwelcome thought, and she tried to casually dismiss it by considering that he may have forgotten their little trysts entirely. The doctor did say there may be some amnesia or bouts of strange behavior though. Figuring she was in for a bumpy ride, Ashley decided to shower and see if she could get some work done before Nick got home. No need to cook, definitely, since he'd made plenty of leftovers the night before…might as well grade some essays, she reasoned.
By the time he came in though, she had given up grading papers, and for a while she flicked listlessly through channels before giving up the notion that she could find something to take her mind off his whereabouts. She worried her thumbnail trying not to think about where he might be and vacillated between worrying that he had fallen out somewhere, blacked out behind the wheel, gone to see her… he could be anywhere.
Fortunately just at that moment, she heard the garage door lifting, and scrambled out of the desk chair where she had been contemplating checking his emails to see if there were any new messages. She tripped over a combat boot he'd left lying beside the coffee table the night before, right when he walked through the door. Ashley sucked in a breath and tried not to curse, biting her lip instead as her toes throbbed.
"Sweetheart—sorry—Buttons, are you okay?" he caught himself as he used the wrong term of endearment again, quickly corrected it to the one Nick had reserved for her. At the same time, Ultron mentally shook his head at the tragic waste of time in doing something so duplicitous. The irony of integrity being one of a soldier's core values did not escape him either. He wondered what other banal secrets old Nicholas had locked in his feeble brain.
Ashley barely contained a snarl as he once again called her the wrong name, then took a deliberate breath when he fixed it, and shook her head, "I just stubbed my toe on your boot. I wasn't expecting you for a while, and I spooked."
Memories clicked through Ultron's brain at a familiar scene – Nick coming home to find Ashley sitting at his desk, her face tearstained.
May as well nip this one right now, he surmised. "Ashley—Buttons—I'm not going to see her ever again." I have no use for her, and barely much more for you, he thought to himself. "I've had a…an otherworldy experience that has left me…reevaluating some things. Just what I needed, if you ask me. I've gained a whole new perspective on life."
Ashley realized her mouth was hanging open and closed it.
"You sound like someone else entirely."
"I feel like a whole new man," he chirped smugly. The sarcastic smile was reminiscent enough of Nick that she relaxed a little. Ashley hadn't even realized she was tense until she felt herself breathe again.
"So ah, what were you up to on a Sunday morning? Decided to start going to church or…?"
He made the driest of chuckles and glanced over to the bookcase. Sitting on its side was The Atheist's Bible. "Oh Buttons, I haven't changed that much. A little hard to think there's a higher power than myself."
He grinned winningly and tilted his head. She almost fought back a laugh, except that he almost seemed serious.
"So ah…since you're a new man and you're starting over and all…maybe you could stop calling me Buttons? You have to know I've always hated that."
Again another memory surfaced, this time of her rolling her eyes while he tweaked one of her nipples, making some passing comment about how they were so small they reminded him of little buttons.
Ultron was suddenly very glad that this man was dead, and had left him such a serviceable body. He clearly had been using it for all the wrong purposes and being a complete clod about it besides.
"I don't see why not," he answered reasonably. "As to where I've been, since you asked, and I obviously need to alleviate your mind, I went to find whomever was pulling sentry duty today and see what news I could find on how things were going at work. Overall, not what I expected."
She got that unsettled feeling again watching him walk about the room. He idly stopped and tilted to the side to look at something, his movements looking jerky still. Almost robotic, she mused, but it must be a side effect of the trauma. After all, his spinal cord had nearly been severed. Surely that would affect movements after such a miraculous healing…right?
"What is it?" she wondered aloud, catching herself too late, but luckily he interpreted her question as applying to his story.
"I've been reassigned."
"Wait…you've been…"
"I've been drawn out of special forces, as they think I've been too damaged to be ready for duty on that level – probably ever again – and instead I have been stationed elsewhere for light duty. Permanent profile."
"They stationed you somewhere else? Like another post altogether? We'll have to move!"
"Actually no, as it happens, they are reopening the old Army depot and making it a classified facility." He conveniently neglected to mention that it was he who changed their designation of the old post.
"The old depot? That's hours away!"
"I can commute," he returned.
That feeling came back again, that niggling sense that something was off. She had trusted her gut before where he was concerned. "What aren't you telling me?"
He laughed, lighting on a better epithet for her at last "precious, you can be sure I'm never telling you everything. I can't. Nature of the job."
He kissed her forehead and wandered off to the kitchen. Feeling peckish, he started rifling through the leftovers he'd made, thinking asparagus and fish would do the trick. Already, hunger pangs were proving a nuisance. After a point, you just couldn't ignore them.