Chapter Two: Smile, The Worst Is Yet To Come.
" Now, as you can see by the chart displayed on the projector, a net of four ATPs was produced from glycolysis through the Krebs cycle. More ATP will be produced from reduced coenzymes in the mitochondria during the electron transport chain and oxidative phosphorylation." I used a laser pointer to show the students taking my class what I was talking about.
I swept my eyes around the room and noted with exasperation how many eyes were closed or attempting to flutter shut instead of copy the information. "I also plan on coming to the final exam wearing a hot pink cocktail dress. Any of you who can guess what color my knickers shall be receive ten points of extra credit." I continued sarcastically, keeping a straight face as half of the students laughed. The people who didn't laugh obviously did not hear a word I was saying but I never let it bother me.
"Thank you, for those of you paying attention and even to those of you who have not been - at least you made it to class. On time, as well! You lot are bloody brilliant." I commented dryly and not changing the expression on my face when the statement brokered the laugh I was aiming to receive. It was always hit or miss with students in a classroom - especially Americans. "On my website is the study guide for the final exam which will be in two weeks from today. The next four classes prior to the exam are going to be purely about reviewing. I recommend you come to these sessions. I won't be taking attendance these days, however, so if you are confident you know the material or would prefer to study on your own time, feel free to do so."
Most of the eighty students already began packing the textbooks and whatever they used to take notes into the tote bags they carried from classroom to classroom. A hand raising in the front row caught my attention, surprising me when I saw who was raising the hand.
"Mr. Gilliam?" I inquired, focusing on the athletic student who made it his job to be the class clown of my Monday and Wednesday mornings for this past semester.
"Thank you, sir." Matthew Gilliam said innocently and I caught myself just in the nick of time from rolling my eyes at the dimwitted boy. I can tell from his tone already that this was going to be one more attempt to get a reaction out of me. "Are you sure the test is in two weeks? Could we reschedule? It's my birthday that same day. It would be bad luck to take a test the same day."
"I apologize for your misfortune, Mr. Gilliam. Regretfully, I have to decline that proposal - I hope you can understand why. You see, unlike your birth, this test has been planned out in advance." I deadpanned, refusing the smile attempting to surface from becoming visible when the students all laughed and told him he had gotten 'burned'. Though I was not completely aware of what the word meant in the context they were using it, I inferred that they were implying I got one over on him because of the context. There is nothing better than taking the piss out of students who attempt to do the same regularly. "Any other questions?"
"No sir." Gilliam's face was slightly tinted with red and my eyes focused in on the blood beneath his cheeks as they colored his skin before I realized what I was doing. I would be willing to bet his blood was a little tangy but refreshing - similar to an orange or a bl- .
I cut my thoughts off before they could delve any more into ideas about the flavor of my students blood. My eyes drifted towards the door as I heard it opening and it was strange to see the beautiful girl walking into the room. Strange mostly because it was three minutes until the end of my class.
The boys gawked at her with jaws dropped open and I ignored her for the most part, making sure to keep her in my peripheral vision the remaining class period. Most everyone was packed up, myself included, but the red haired girl just blew another bubble with her gum. Something felt off - I trusted my gut more than most people might. Your body is a finely tuned organism and it may be listening to a different 'radio station' than you are.
I knocked the papers off of my desk, scrambling to catch them as part of an act, while I really threw my bluetooth in my ear while I was hidden. I pulled my hair loose from its normally well kempt ponytail, the auburn strands curling slightly from where they had been held up by the elastic hair tie. The bell rang as soon as I stood back up, patting my hair to ensure you couldn't see the device and waving cheerfully at my students as they trudged out of the door. The girl was not getting up from her seat.
"I'm not getting anything from her. Might be time to try the good ol' fashioned way" Camilla said into my ear, having been watching her through the camera for the past minute. She was aware of my eyes on her but she pretended to be clueless - checking her watch, blowing a pink bubble, and then turning the page. I angled my back towards her so she couldn't see me give the camera a questioning look. "Flirt idiot!"
Her hair was red and in a sort of bob cut that was very flattering, easily showing off her superb bone structure. Jeans and a casual blouse hugged her figure in a way that would be enticing under the right circumstances. All interesting and true observations but it was not what was bothering me. I feel like I know her from somewhere.
"Pochemu vy tak khorosho znakomy mne?" I inquired while shifting into a more casual stance, leaning against the desk behind me and folding my hands in the front. This made me appear less threatening and would allow her to keep an eye on my hands. (Why is it you appear so familiar to me?)
Her head snapped around to stare at me so quickly that I was momentarily wondering if she broke her neck by doing it. I thought it strange that I had the urge to speak with her in Russian but I figured it would not hurt; it was interesting that she knew the language. The woman stood up slowly, leaving her magazine on the table, and I watched her eyes go to various places in the room; What I deduced from the way she moves and the places her eyes had just glanced at is certainly an interesting bit of information. I wonder if I could shock her into admitting something.
"Ty voin." I remarked casually, watching her preemptively resist the urge to tense or otherwise defend herself. If it wasn't for my better than average eyesight, I never would have caught the way her muscles bunched before she forcibly relaxed them. (You are a warrior.)
"Mnogim mne mnogo vsego. " She replied, her eyes evaluating me and my mannerisms much in the same way I was doing to her. (I am many things to many people.)
"As am I, Miss…?" I trailed off, leaving an open ended question while staring at her expectantly.
"Rushman." She introduced herself, neither of us made any move to shorten the distance between us.
"Auggie." I responded in kind, doing a half bow at the waist that startled her into a little laugh, instantly making my own mischievous side show itself. "My surname is Harker."
I saw her eyes narrow slightly at the mention of my last name, confirming my suspicions that she knew who I was. The brief flash of curiosity proved that she knew my name but did not know why I was going by a different last name than what he had most likely heard.
"Natalie. Are you always so old fashioned?" Natalie replied, tilting her head at me with an unreadable expression on her face.
"I am the way my mother raised me to be." I told her with a small smirk
"Is that so?" Natalie said rhetorically with humor in her voice. This is something that threw me for a loop because what should have been something only I, Camilla, and few choice others would see as a joke is not something one would find humor in normally. Does she know how old I am?
"Natalie Rushman was working for Tony Stark as a PA until a few months ago. Tony Stark's aliases are Iron Man, Merchant of Death, and other variation of the Merchant. Natalie Rushman allegedly worked for Pepper Potts and Stark himself." Camilla told me, talking nineteen to the dozen while she researched the enigma of a woman standing in front of me. "I say let something slip that you know, see if you can shake her."
"What brings you here today, Natalie?" I asked pleasantly, moving from one of my student's desk to head towards the white board. I picked one of the eraser up in my hand and began to clear the formula's still written in my own hand. "Surely it is not to wag off with a boring Biochemistry Professor."
"I don't think you're boring at all, Dr. Harker." Natalie replied artfully, subtly looking up towards me from beneath dark eyelashes. The effect was interesting but I feel it would be more effective if I was taller.
"Oh? So you are here to… get to know me? Warts and all?" The bemused look on my face was not something I was trying to disguise.
"You don't have any warts." Natalie countered with a tiny laugh, twisting her body so that her chest was slightly more pushed forward and in a way that would make her curves stand out even better that they were before.
"It is a figure of speech." I explained indulgently, lips twitching in amusement.
"She modeled in Tokyo, Japan just before she was hired by Stark Industries. Funnily enough, Auggie, is that days before she came back to the U.S.A. there was a plane explosion in Japan. Following her return, all of the drama with Iron Man happened. When things settled down, she left."
"Brilliant." I muttered sarcastically, gaining Natasha's attention and I smiled for a moment as I weighed my options. Confront her so we can get this over with or let it drag on, see what happens next.
"You show her who is a boss, Auggie!" Camilla exclaimed loudly, making me want to hug her and box her ears al at the same time.
"Natalie Rushman, what are you on about?" I asked bluntly, letting the look of a calculating predator replace the mask of the gormless yet jovial teacher as though I was merely using a different scent of cologne.
"I thought we were just talking?" Natalie said with her eyebrows scrunched together and a innocently confused expression on her face. Both of these made me pause before I remembered that none of it was true. She was obviously lying.
"Auggie, I can't believe I didn't see it before!" Camilla abruptly broke in, sounding as though she were experiencing a bewildering amount of emotions at once. Excitement, guilt, and worry, maybe? "There is someone else watching you talk to Natalie. He is this creepy looking guy, definitely not someone I want to have Sunday brunch with."
"Absolutely." I agreed, nodding my hair more for Camilla's sake than to continue the conversation with Natalie. I was not sure who these people were but it was obviously time for me to leave town, possibly fairly quickly,
"Are you alright?" Natalie asked gently, a impressive look of compassion and concern painted onto her face. This woman was the Van Gogh of her own facial expressions and manipulations.
"Yes, sometimes I get overwhelmed and it makes me want to close my eyes." I told her complacently while shrugging my shoulders to show it was no big deal. "It helps me feel like I can escape and just get some well deserved time to myself."
"Roger that, loud and clear Auggie. If things get bad, I can shut the lights off in this building and most likely surrounding buildings. After that, you are on your own besides an extra set of eyes and a live time google maps." Camilla was confident she could do exactly what she said she could, it was a quality I admired in her quite often.
"Are you sure everything is alright?" Natalie asked again, putting the back of her hand to my forehead. I swatted the hand away teasingly, flashing my teeth at her in a quick smile, before getting a little more serious.
"How about with yourself?" I asked with the hint of a smile playing at the corner of my lips,
"I'm wel-" Natalie started to say, hands beginning to lift from her lap to gesture as she talked but they lowered as soon as I cut her off with my next question.
"How is Tony Stark?" I asked abruptly, turning to face her with more of my body, squaring my shoulders.
"Excuse me?" Natalie asked, obviously not suspecting that I would know about the time she spent with Tony's company. She was excellent at controlling herself, I'll give her that, but the first reaction she should have had was confusion. That was surprise in her eyes, meaning she knew who I was asking about and why. That seemed to be even more suspicious than just being around when bad things happen.
"Iron Man?" I prompted, frowning a little as she continued to silently stare me down.
"Tony and I don't get along very well." Natalie said finally, her tone of voice curt to make it clear she was not going to participate in that avenue of conversation unless she was dragged, hungry and beaten. Somehow I still doubt she would break even if torture methods of the most harsh nature were inflicted upon her. An admirable quality but one that made me even more wary to spend a prolonged amount of time in her company.
"That is too bad." I told her, along with my honest sympathies, not letting it show on my face the abrupt change of pace in conversation. "Have you thought about going back to Tokyo?"
"What do you know about Tokyo?" Natalie asked dangerously, leaning forward slightly in her seat in order to lower her voice but so that I could still hear.
"I know enough." I said nonchalantly "The real question is, when is your friend going to show himself? The entire point of this was to chivvy you up. Personally, I believe we have wagged our chins enough."
Natalie stared at me through narrowed eyes, a reprising and calculated look replacing the other face she had been wearing the past hour. I was calm, refusing to let myself fidget or even look away for more than a few moments. Natalie stood up and walked out of the room without another word. The door was shut for all of a minute and twenty two seconds before a tall man entered the room, his leather coat and black eyepatch giving him an almost unintentional flair aesthetically.
"Do you know who I am?" The man asked with an expectant look on his face, the eye not covered by a bandage was focused solely on myself presently.
"No, I do not." I replied honestly, a wry grin twisting my lips up into the ghost of a smile. My eyes glanced to the file in his hands, one which had my name written across it. "I suppose I can assume you know about me?"
"Yes, Mr. Harker. We have been keeping an interested eye on you for a long while now but due to some unforeseen events, we had no other choice but to approach you." He explained, extending his hand in order to shake on the words spoken between the two. "I am Nicholas Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. or the-"
"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." I finished for him with a smirk on my face, thinking about the very first time I had heard those exact same words spoken to me. It seems like only yesterday but at the same time it feels like an age as well. "And it's Doctor Harker, not Mister. Tell me, where is Peggy? For I miss her rather terribly. I just noticed it has been quite some time since we last saw one another."
"I apologize, Dr. Harker, I forgot you were there during the time it was just starting." Director Fury said
"Lucky you." I joked, my voice coming out a tad too bitter to only be playing around and my voice flat. They were dark times in my life, they set me on a path that I almost did not turn back from. "Look, I know you have your way of doing things and I can respect that. I have never gotten in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s way intentionally. You are a busy man, I am a busy man. You can keep your folders, I'm going to go home and take a bath, you do whatever it is secret spy organizations do."
"We need your help." Director Fury said levelly, his steady heartbeat under control as I listened for even the barest hint of a lie. I frowned, not picking up on anything, my traitorous mind wondering what I would be able to help with.
I looked at Fury out of the corner of my, wondering what sort of game he was playing at. Not that it mattered because I have work to do. If I left to do god knows what for S.H.I.E.L.D, what would stop the vampires numbers from swelling at a higher rate?
Out of my admittedly pathetic packet, compared to the other ones on the table at least, came an even smaller folder that Director Fury slid across the table at me. It reminded me of the disturbing children's toys, where one of the strange looking women are in a big doll, but as you separate each doll another is there, only smaller.
"And if I say no?" I asked, waiting with my arms folded across my chest and the unopened folder sitting in front of me.
"Then we let you go." Director Fury confirmed, nodding slowly but stopping as his eyes rested on the folder lying innocently in front of my eyes. I wish I could say that the rather obvious bait and switch trap would never work on me, that I wanted to leave the folder in it's spot to collect dust, and for me to not care what it says for the rest of my life.
The problem with all traps, especially the bait and switch, is that they rely on the prey to have a healthy amount of curiosity. My sister used to constantly tell me curiosity killed the cat - I, being the snotty child I was, would reply in a cheeky voice that satisfaction brought the cat back.
"What is it? Why do you think whatever is in there will change my mind?" I asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion, shifting from the calendar to the other members already
"I think you'll find this is something you've been searching for a long time." Fury commented mildly, laying the other folder with my name on it down before turning around and walking out without another comment.
I waited for a thirty seconds after the door shut to get the folders open and to begin reading through the pages as quickly as a man dying of thirst gulps down water. It was… not what I was expecting but they do say never to look a gift horse in the mouth. When I finished reading the file for the third time, I sat and just absorbed the information for a moment. The school's last class was in about an hour, a night class that I was not eager to stay for, I pushed the chair I was sitting in so that I may stand up.
They did not have much information about me personally, I was relieved to note, thanking Peggy in the back of my mind for upholding her end of our bargain. They knew I was different but they were not aware how different I was. Besides the degrees I possess, the current property I am staying at, and a estimation of my birth year. The file said 'somewhere before 1900, possibly near 1850's'. I snorted because they were right but only because they basically said give or take fifty years. They noted my above average speed and senses in general. Nothing about drinking blood, killing vampires, or anything vampiric really. Though it does say I will hunt serial killers - i.e. vampires - if I hear of one being difficult or elusive to catch. I paced back and forth for a moment, deliberating my options.
What I wanted to do was contact Camilla to update her on what was going on. I did not want to drag her into the mess that is my life anymore, however, and part of me is concerned if S.H.I.E.L.D. learns about her talents, they will recruit her. As selfish as it may be, I want Camilla to myself, safe and out of reach of danger in her house. As much as I wanted to shield her from S.H.I.E.L.D, I knew I would tell her everything and let her make her own choice. It is her life and I have already lived two life times worth of my own, the last thing I needed to do is live someone else's for them.
"I agree." I said out loud, looking straight at the camera as I spoke. I know being under Fury's thumb was not a smart place to position myself but the man has resources. I've been searching for a hundred years for answers those files could give me and I won't stop now because I am slightly nervous about taking orders from a human. "Let's talk details."
This time both Natalie and Fury walked into the room, Fury with the air of someone who has just won a game of chess or a rugby match. Natalie seemed more relaxed, eyeing me curiously as the pair walked up to greet me.
"So you have decided to join the Avenger's initiative?" Fury asked, admirably getting straight to to the point without any preamble.
"I am" I responded with a sense of apprehension that I did not allow to show.
"Excellent. Agent Natasha Romanoff will assist you in updating your file as well as going over the expectations. In return, we will keep an ear out for the object - we are interested in it as well but from what I gather you only intend to use it one time?" Fury asked and expectantly looking at me.
I nodded in reply to his question, technically answering it, and then watched him wait for a moment. I knew what he wanted. The reason why I desired it, what I intended to use it for, and how I felt about S.H.I.E.L.D. planning on securing it. My feelings toward S.H.I.E.L.D. were ambivalent at best. I was decidedly uncaring about the organization because they were a mix of bad and good. Necessary evils, mortal greed, prejudice, and violence all were words one can associate with the organization - as were hope, security, peace, protection, judiciary. I simply did not have the time to ever form a solid opinion when more important things have always been happening and the limited interactions between myself and the organization.
I most likely should start thinking, however, if this is what I believe it to be. The wry thought crossed my mind the moment Agent Romanoff, aka 'Natalie Rushman', slid a document across the table with a fountain pen. I raised my eyebrow at the incredulity that I am about to sign a contract stating I am, in the documents own words, 'on call to assist, defend, secure, counsel, train, and/or report to a designated S.H.I.E.L.D. handler when contacted by the aforementioned handler.
"I am going to read this." Gesturing to the paper I fully intended to read every single letter on, I began at the top of page one.
"I wouldn't expect anything less." Nata- Agent Romanoff said as she comfortably relaxed in the seat in front of me. Part of me wonders why we are doing all of this in a classroom instead of a S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting room - not a big enough part to ask or care for very long though I still thought it rather odd. I finished the document and grudgingly signed my name in cursive.
"You have beautiful handwriting." Romanoff commented, looking over my signature. My handwriting was quite nice although it was from an extraordinary amount of practice. In the late nineteenth century, the Spencer method of handwriting was all the rage and my Mother forced, threatened, blackmailed, and beguiled my sister into practicing until the day came where it was an unconscious and reflexive act to recreate the beautiful style.
"I am proficient." I acknowledged before a small, fond smile grew because of memories. "My sister was always far more adept. She was one of those people who exceeded at almost everything. It used to frustrate me to no end."
"Were you close?" Romanoff asked with a curious look that I was having a hard time deciding was real or fabricated.
"She was one of the most fair, intelligent, and genuine people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. We were very close."
"What was her name?" Was Agent Romanoff's next question, spoken as she sorted the papers making up the contract into a neat, orderly pile.
"Maybe I will tell you one day." I offered, knowing it was most likely a false offer since I had no intention of telling her. It was out of politeness that I said so; I was not able to find a more polite way to say no. "Romanoff zvuchit gorazdo bol'she." (Romanoff sounds much more Russian.)
"Otkuda vy znayete, chto ya govoril po-russki?" She asked in return, an intensely penetrating look displayed on her face that, oddly enough, unnerved me. I thought on it for a moment before deciding there was nothing to hide at this point. (How did you know that I spoke Russian?)
"YA ne znayu. YA videl tebya, ty kazalsya znakomym, a potom russkiy tol'ko chto vyshel izo rta." I confessed, shrugging my shoulders unapologetically. (I do not know. I saw you, you seemed familiar, and then Russian just came out of my mouth.)
"Have you ever visited Russia?" Romanoff pressed, which made a frown appear before I could prevent it as I thought of possible reasons she seemed so interested.
"Twice. One time on a vacation with a friend, more to Siberia than anything else, and the other on Business." I answered slowly and my head tilted in confusion. "The first time was in the 1940's. The second in `2002."
"So it IS true." Natasha chuckled disbelievingly
"It being what exactly?" I inquired before realizing she meant my age. I have spent the last few years not pretending because of Camilla that I forget it is not old news for everyone. "Oh. Yes, I suppose it is."
"What does one do with unlimited time?" Natasha asked rhetorically, though I intended to give her the same answer I have given for the last twenty years.
"More than you would guess but less than you would believe." I offered and flashed my teeth when she snorted in amusement.
"You are going to be a pain in the ass, aren't you?" Natasha accused while pointing the pen at me as though it were a sword.
"Most likely." I confirmed, looking sideways at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent before mentally shrugging to myself and hoping she could take a joke. "Most of the time it is the men I court that say I am a pain in the arse. Though I suppose they mean literally…"
Natasha froze for a moment and I stopped as well, though more hesitantly, wondering if she would have a terrible reaction. I knew I was going to enjoy her company as soon as she burst into laughter, shaking her head and once again walking out of the classroom.
"I'm not sure what makes me want to laugh more." Natasha laughed, pausing when a fresh wave came over. When she finally stopped she took a deep breath, grinning, and finished her earlier thought. "I'm not sure which is more funny, the joke you made or the fact that you referred to sex as 'courting'."
I hummed in recognition, allowing my mind to wander as we traveled through the building and then the campus itself. There was not much more talking between us because of the short walk but I knew this would not be the last time I would see her. After all, tomorrow is my first official day of being 'on call' with S.H.I.E.L.D.
A/N: Chapter Two! I was a little sad that I only have one review but instead I am going to be glad that someone enjoyed it enough to review!
Ougley: Thank you! I hope you continue to read and review, I'm really excited about it.
Playlist:
Song = Artist = Scene
Trouble is a Friend - Lenka - Natasha walks into the classroom
Smile - Mikky Ekko - End conversation with Natasha