NOTES: This is where I veer off the tracks a bit. Still working with the same basic storyline, but changing events slightly. Maybe this will go back to being a strictly post-ep/missing scene story, maybe not. Depends on what my characters tell me.
Thanks to the_wordbutler for cleaning up my words and pushing me off the beaten path.
Warning for kidnapping, threats of violence, and actual attacks.
The knock comes as she doing dishes from her dinner, which wisely consisted of ice cream and wine. What else are you supposed to consume when your boyfriend is now, at least according to some news networks, part of a terrorist organization?
Her eyes dart to her purse, but she leaves her gun inside the bag. Anna pulls her door open to reveal Grant standing on the other side of it. He looks a little worse for wear, but any member of the team is a welcome sight to her. "What are you doing here?" Anna asks. "Did they let you go for shooting the Clairvoyant?"
"Yeah," he answers quickly, "turns out it wasn't really him. Have you talked to Coulson?"
"No, have you?"
He nods as he steps into her apartment and closes the door behind him. "He wants me to take you to him. He's not sure it's safe for you here."
The words mostly ring true to her, but there's a niggling feeling in the pit of her stomach that makes the hairs on her neck stand on end. Or perhaps her red flag starts waving because she realizes that Grant has yet to say the safe word to let her know Phil really thinks it's safe for her to travel with the agent in her apartment.
You make up some weird rules when you're in a relationship with someone who works in the intelligence community, okay?
"Sure, just let me grab my bag," Anna says. And either he hears a waver in her voice or she can't be as calm as she would like at the moment, because as soon as she turns, there's a gun muzzle pressed to her lower back.
"I need you to come with me."
Anna hears the immediate change in his voice, like he's dropped some act and revealing his true self. Taking a deep breath, she mentally reviews some of the hand-to-hand tactics David taught her long ago and figures what the hell. She quickly spins and catches the wrist of his gun hand in the crook of her left arm while her right elbow arcs up to nail him in the jaw. Her surprise attack only affords her two seconds to try and grab the gun from his hand before he shoves her away. She runs for her bag, but his hand grips her arm and yanks her toward him. Anna tries to twist out of his grip, but the last thing she sees is the butt of his gun flying toward her head before everything goes dark.
When she wakes, she's in handcuffs that are chained to the metal table she's sitting at. Her head throbs, and her first thought is wondering how she's going to call in sick. She also desperately wishes she'd eaten something more substantial for dinner because her stomach won't stop churning.
"So Sleeping Beauty is awake."
The voice is a man's but not one she recognizes. Anna barely manages not to groan as she lifts her head to look at him. He has short brown hair and wears a black turtleneck. "Who are you?"
He smiles at her, and it just makes her stomach feel worse. "My name's John, but you've probably heard me called by my other title—The Clairvoyant."
That instantly makes the muscles in her back tighten in fear. "What do you want?"
"Nothing you have," he chuckles. "But it's something your boyfriend has, so we're using you as bait." He looked her over and shook his head. "I know Phil could trend toward dumb when it comes to being all good and sweet, but getting this serious with a civilian is a new low."
Anna wishes she'd learn how to spit in someone's face, but sadly, she'd never picked up the trick. "He won't give you whatever it is looking for."
"Oh, I think he will," John answers as he sits in the chair opposite her. "Especially since we've already sent him pictures of your bloodied face. And he definitely will when I start leaving calls every hour on the hour so he can hear you scream as I break each of your fingers." He lightly runs his hands over her fingers, and she has to swallow bile. "He says you're an incredibly talented musician. I sincerely hope you have a backup plan for your career."
"Where's Grant?" she asks.
"He had to run back to Coulson; need to make sure he keeps his good graces with the team, even though they don't have a clue who he's really working for."
"I'll tell him," Anna says. "When you call Phil so he can listen to me scream? That's what will be coming out of my mouth. I'll tell him about Grant, and I'll tell him not to come for me, that I'm not worth it." She's slightly afraid when she realizes how much truth is in that statement. But it shouldn't be too surprising since she was raised by a father in the Army, married a soldier, and has been in a relationship with a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent for the better part of the last few years. She knows one life isn't worth the security of millions.
"Sweetheart, it's cute that you think we don't have gags." He stands a pulls a rag out of his pants pocket and quickly sticks it between her teeth before knotting it behind her head. She feels her pulse race and her adrenaline spike, so she does her best to breathe calmly through her nose. "And," John continues, "just in case you two have worked out some secret code—can't be too careful with someone who likes to bed spies, trust me on that one—we need to make sure you're not too coherent when I do call good ol' Phil." He pulls a syringe from the cabinet behind her and makes sure to show it off to her before pulling the plastic cap off the needle. "At the very least, you'll be in a haze when I start breaking bones in your hand."