iii. In Which Characters Enter Stage Left
The office she occupied in the compound was all clean lines and modern—despite being here for the last eight months there weren't many personal touches to the office, a hard habit to break paranoia. At the right corner of her desk there was a carefully cultivated bonzai tree, it gave the room a hint of green and had been a gift. Long fingers dragged across the prickly needles of the tree, much like the tree Maria manipulated the players on the board to be where they needed to be to be most effective.
It was a job any envied her or pined on her ambition—her need for control—and that all may very well be true to a degree but truth was she did not enjoy being a Handler. Every pre-mission decision made, every preparation accounted for and redundancy plans put into place was done by her and if it went wrong it wasn't just a mistake. It could cost lives, which she'd learned the hard way.
Her right hand held a pair of small shear loosely, all part of the house warming gift that Captain Rogers had presented her with when she'd accepted the job. It had irritated her how perceptive the gift had been, a safe canvas to make decisions on—where the cuts didn't really matter and would grow back in time. He'd had that aw shucks persona of his firmly in place, spewing out something about his mama and good manners. She'd leveled him with a cool look and a polite thank you but that too earnest look never left his face. For a moment she had wanted to believe there was no ulterior motive but if S.H.I.E.L.D taught anything it was that there was no such thing as pure intent. Still wherever he came into her office and eyed the plant she'd catch glimpse of something on his face which made her think something else was going on.
Or she was just jaded enough to believe even the infamous Boy Scout wasn't without a selfish agenda.
Putting down the shears she leaned a hip against her desk, hands coming to lay flat over the cool glass leaving smudges. No need to subject the plant to an over zealous hacking because of her inner turmoil—that's what punching bags where for.
Still, fists couldn't solve this any more then careful planning would do more then just blanket the inevitable fall out of Barnes presence. How could she turn him away? Not because he was Rogers friend, she didn't owe Rogers the time of day but as a former marine she couldn't abandon a H.Y.D.R.A POW of seventy years. So she'd made the call an hour ago and brought in Lewis—the same call she had castigated Natasha on making for Barton. As involved as Lewis was she was still only a civilian and Maria's visions—choppy and cryptic as ever—kept showing her the girl. The last vision had come after she'd ended the call and nearly laid her out on her ass—they only came that strong when a final decision had been made, when there was no more room to back track.
A scene of a pale, naked girl huddled into herself, a black wolf too large to be natural with bared teeth and looming storm clouds.
Maria as a child had been glanced over when it came to Pulse sensitivity—she wasn't from a lineage and her family had only had one witch in her ancestry—her gifts could be passed off as a child's fanciful imagination and impressive intuition as a woman. And it had been for the most part, till S.H.I.E.L.D and Coulson.
And now it was time to bring the girl to the Wolf and hope that she could keep the storm at bay.
Darkness
The scent of gun oil, leather and peppermint candies
A weightless feeling, gliding.
A flutter of lashes tickling it's skin—functionality at sixty percent.
The Asset is compromised.
But the smell of peppermint is familiar, with an undertone of something wild.
Darkness
Tugging at the lose thread of her most comfortable sweater Darcy allowed her senses to be carried off by the passing wind, up into the gathered moisture of the clouds were there was just a hint of warmth from a fresh risen sun following the pull of the Pulse weaving its way into the world-stunted in most placed but repairing itself. She's jolted back when Jane squeezes her fingers entertained with her own, it wasn't to gain her attention she was still stubbornly not looking at her with lips pursed in a hard line, it was almost as if she needed to guarantee she was still beside her.
Bruce sat in the co-pilots chair next to Tony, no doubt to avoid the tense energy between the two women.
"Sir, we have an ETA of fifteen minutes to the compound. I've advised Commander Hill of our immanent arrival."
J.A.R.V.I.S breaks the near hour long silence between them all since the end of the explosive fight she and Jane had in the lab and Tony had finally given up on getting more then a glare or a pointed look as a reply to his usual coping antics.
"Thanks pal-" he turing in his chair, somber was an expression she had never pictured on Tony's face but it settled familiarly over the lines of his face-as if this was the default setting, "Lewis, you don't owe anyone a damn thing. You can walk away right now-take a Bora Bora vacation on me-but you can walk away ."
"And be on the receiving end on one of Cap's 'You've Let America Down' faces? No way, Jose. I think a bald eagle die when Cap makes that face and they are an endangered species. Plus, I've done this before."
The attempt at humor is armor, she knows and he knows because he was using long before he built himself a suit.
A sharp intake of breath is the only warning before Jane snaps, her voice filling the Quinjet, "Don't-don't do that. Don't down this. Barton was under Loki's control for a matter of days. Days, Darcy. This special snowflake of Steve's has been under for over seventy years. How can they ask you to do this? I damn well know how, they didn't see you after Barton. The didn't make hot tea at three in the morning, or watch you cry yourself to sleep. That's fucking how."
Wincing she tightens her grip on Jane's hand, the delicate bones of her fingers shift with the pressure. "Jane, Clint didn't ask for help. I volunteered. Same as I did now. It's my choice Boss Lady. I know you don't like it and I'm not asking you too cause the prospect scares the shit out of me. But if I don't help then they will assign someone else to do it. Someone who might not have such an awesome tea maker on their side."
With the same suddenness as her outburst Jane deflates, the jet lands smoothly and the conversation is ended when the platform lowers and they see Hill waiting for them flanked by Natasha and Clint.
The filing out the jet she sends the best smile she can muster at the three, she's never spent much time with Hill but the two spies she could consider distant friends at the very least. Manicured lawns and glass doors were her first impression of the compound, pretty if a little too new looking for her taste. It lacked the character age gives a building.
"…we are taking every pro caution , I assure you Dr. Foster." she had not heard the begging piece of Jane's tirade but it was a strange sight when she did tune in. Tiny Jane on the tips of her toes like a bird about to take flight squaring off against the immovable force that was Maria Hill. The dark haired woman looked as composed as always but Darcy could feel the coiled tension wapping itself around her tighter and tighter.
Walking toward the duo she slings an arm over the scientists shoulder and is at a great vantage point to see the way Banner and Romanov are alternating between ignoring each other and lingering, soulful looks that she'd need to meddle with later."Woah there, I'm sure if we gave Hill a chance she'll be more then happy to debrief us on all things security-it's what she lives for Janey. Just let the woman do her job." sending a bright smile to Hill she makes a go ahead motion.
"Of course, Agent Barton and Romanov are here to secure Ms. Lewis personal safety at all times she is in Barnes company." Clint sends her a wink at his name and an eye roll is the immediate response but she's glad he's here-he understands, "All sessions will be monitored and if at any point should Ms. Lewis life be endangered then this ends."
Letting out a whistle at the conviction in Hill's voice Stark can help but needle her, Darcy can see the intent on his face before the words are out, "And what about the good Captain? Does he know about these play date rules?"
"He doesn't get a choice."
Sam brings them in for a landing in Hanger Three where a team of Medics are there to meet them, he hangs back-putting a hand on Steve's shoulder to keep him from following, the needed to meet Hill in the briefing room before he could start pulling his lone centurion thing again. He's never seen Rogers look like this before, so haggard and worn-so human and far removed from his usual quiet, steadfast presence.
"Come on Cap, nothing more we can do for him now. Docs will patch up what they can."
"I know, just-I can't even feel his bound Sam. He's pack, always been my Enforcer but now..."
He doesn't reply, conceptually he knows what Steve is saying but somehow he doubts that something so animal can be put into human words or feelings so he lets it linger for a moment before giving his shoulder a squeeze and heading to Hill. After a beat the blonde follows.
Walking a brisk pace they reach the briefing room and find it full. He recognized Stark, Banner and Natasha (and the curve of her ass in that catsuit, damn) but the two women and another blonde man are new to him.
"Welcome back Captain." Hill begins with no preamble, had to admire a woman who got right down to business.
"Commander." He sees the occupants of the room stiffen almost in synch, Rogers voice washes over the room like rolling thunder but Hill stand immovable and Sam remembers his sophomore science teacher talking about unstoppable forces and immovable objects. In a more restrained tone he addresses the rest of the room with a curt nod and a tired smile "Folks."
It eases some of the tension but Sam watches him make his way to stand beside Hill wearily. Cap's been on edge too long, hadn't allow himself the Change in longer. It was all going to come to ahead and the former pilot wondered if even Commander Hill could stand unmoved before that.