An Interesting Grasp Of Language

FurySif

WarFury

Theme song:

Rachel Platten: Fight Song

I'm totally blaming the chatroom crowd for this one. You know who you are.

"I am getting so fucking pissed off with motherfucking HYDRA!" Fury slammed into the Avengers' conference centre without even bothering to knock. "All these motherfucking heads keep fucking growing back!"

Sif watched the tall, dark-skinned, one-eyed man with interest. "He has an interesting grasp of language," she remarked to Thor.

"Who the ever-loving-fuck is she?" Fury suddenly noticed the dark-haired woman sitting beside Thor. And the handle of the big-ass sword sticking up above her shoulder.

"The Lady Sif, a boon companion of mine and one of Asgard's finest warriors," Thor replied, "Lady Sif, this is the Furious One of whom you have heard me speak."

"Ah, the deposed leader of SHIELD," Sif said, enlightened.

"I was not deposed, I... it's complicated!" Fury glared at her. She smiled.

"That is a very fine one-eyed glare, oh Furious One. Almost on a par with Odin's, and he has had millennia to practice. I congratulate you."

Despite himself, Fury's lips twitched with amusement. "Thank you, my lady. I will take that as a compliment."

"It was intended as such. Thor has told me of your leadership. You are having problems with a hydra? I have killed several such, if I may lay my sword at your service."

A glint appeared in Fury's eye. "Maybe that's where I've been going wrong," he murmured thoughtfully, "maybe a literal cutting-off of heads would actually serve as a really good object lesson…"

"If you cut the heads off and cauterize them, they don't grow back," Sif offered helpfully.

"I like the way you think."

The heads of the other occupants of the room were swivelling back and forth like spectators at a tennis match. Sif stood gracefully, vaulted over the table, and grinned over her shoulder at Thor.

"I shall return when I have aided the Furious One in his noble quest to rid the world of this Hydra, my prince!"

"They might be gone quite a long time," Natasha said into the stunned silence that fell as the door slammed behind the pair.

"I have a really, really bad feeling about this," Maria Hill said in doom-laden tones.

"Where is this hydra located, oh Furious One?" Sif asked cheerfully.

"It's not a hydra in the sense you're thinking, my lady. And please call me… call me Nick." He liked her, and she was about a millennia older than he was, despite her youthful appearance. He couldn't exactly ask her to call him Sir.

"Then you must call me Sif."

"I'm honoured." He meant it, and she heard the genuine sentiment in his tone, inclined her head to him with a smile.

"I am glad to lay my sword at your service, Nick. No matter what our enemy." She offered her hand for him to clasp, and he blinked at it for a second before smiling back at her and reaching out.

Both accustomed to pain, neither cried out even as agony seared through their palms. Sif's grip tightened, almost crushing Nick's fingers, but he didn't look away from her grey eyes, the pupils flared with shock.

"I have been searching for you for a very, very long time," she breathed softly.

He looked at the runes twining around both their hands as she released her grip; she kept her fingers tangled with his, though. "Does this mean what I think it means? I've seen the marks on Thor's arm and Jane Foster's hand…"

"Aye, we are soulmates, even as they are." Her smile was so lovely, he thought wistfully.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sif blinked, surprised.

"I'm old, Sif. The best years of my life are long gone. I'm no fit mate for someone like you, beautiful and damn near immortal…"

She smiled at him, half-laughed. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Nick Fury had told a great many lies in his life, but he had no need for any of his skills at dissembling now, and her smile broadened.

"Idunn is one of my closest friends. All I will need to do is say the word and she will gift me one of her apples. You will live a thousand years yet at my side, Nick, and all you will have to do to keep me happy is to keep looking at me as you do right now."

His smile broadened to match hers. "That's not going to be difficult at all."

Sif was the one who leaned in to kiss him, still smiling. "Then let us go, Nick, and kill this hydra of yours." She looked up at him through half-lowered lashes. "I have a great desire to be done with this task and find a place where we can be alone."

His smile was wry and weary. "Oh, beautiful. I think we'd better put that the other way about. But then, if I've got a thousand years to cut all the heads off Hydra, I might actually get it done this time."

"Well," she smirked, lacing her fingers with his again, "if you are willing to defer, I shall certainly not object."

Maria Hill stared out of the facility window, utterly stunned. "You know," she remarked as Natasha walked up beside her, "I really thought I'd already seen pretty much everything. But spotting Nick Fury making out with a war goddess in the car park really does take the cake."