Well frick-frack paddy-wack this chapter took a while to get out. Granted that is because I spent two weeks doing marsh bird surveys in the bogs of West Virginia, buuuut…
Seriously though, guys, I think I left my dignity in those bogs. The scenery was absolutely beautiful, and I had a great time working with the FWS, but fuuuuck I fell in the water so many times.
I'm replacing the update chapter I did with this one, but in case you missed it or were curious about what it said, there's a quick rundown of the important bits at the end.
Anywho, not much to say about this chapter other than we finally get some action scenes with Natasha! Vmarslovahhh18, this chapter (and 21 ) are for you, so let me know if you're satisfied with how I portrayed the relationship between Nicole and Nat. That applies to everyone though, so please review if you feel up to it.
Other than that, keep doing what you're doing; the more response I get the more motivated I am to work on this thing.
Much love,
Adara.
Chapter Twenty:
February 27, 2007, Location: Las Vegas, Nevada
Nicole was more than a little intimidated.
But it was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, who was sitting across from her in the room and even if she hadn't heard all of the stories she would be intimidated.
She was lounged casually in the chair, looking for all the world like she didn't give a rat's ass about her surroundings. Nicole knew better however; the Widow could spring into action at a moment's notice and kill her in three seconds flat. She was surprised that Coulson had assigned the Black Widow to be her supervisor for the mission, Natasha Romanoff didn't seem like the sort of person who would willingly supervise a trainee out of Ops.
"I'm, um…" She began, resisting the urge to smack herself in the forehead.
So far she was not sounding professional.
"You look like a business woman, not like a wealthy heiress celebrating her coming of age..." Romanoff deadpanned, arms crossed over her chest.
And what a way it was to celebrate her birthday.
"What's wrong with my ensemble?" Nicole asked, swallowing the lump in her throat in the face of criticism from a senior agent.
The Widow raked a glance over the taller younger woman, her face blank and her eyes critical. Nicole couldn't help but look down as well; she was wearing a lilac blouse and a knee length pencil skirt, her makeup modest with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and some very sparkly jewelry. All in all she thought that she looked quite nice, thank you very much, but agent Romanoff seemed to disagree.
"You're supposed to come from new money, and be a party girl…" Romanoff reminded her. "Sit down and let me fix… this."
Nicole wanted to be insulted by the woman's gesture at her entire body, but she felt the back of her knees meet the chair as she sat down anyway. Like a predatory lying in wait Romanoff swooped in, pulling her hair out of its tie as her fingers worked quickly. Before she knew it Nicole's hair was pinned back in an intricate series of braids that–she had to admit–looked a lot better.
"You look like you're about to go into the office to do desk work." The Widow snorted, steady hands gripping the eyeliner pencil. "Close your eyes."
Oh God, she could stab that right into my brain if she wanted to. The errant thought was most certainly not helping her nerves any.
"Is this your first mission, Dugan?" It took a moment for Nicole to realize that the woman was addressing her, and her eyes opened with a sheepish expression.
"That obvious, huh?" It wasn't exactly her first mission, per se, but it was the first one she'd done without an extraction plan. SHIELD felt that it wouldn't be necessary, not with the Black Widow supervising, and they needed to know how she handled herself in such a situation. They needed to know that she could adapt to dangerous conditions without getting herself killed or blowing cover.
"I've seen your file, you excelled in both self-defense and negotiation." Romanoff continued, breath fanning out across her face as she carefully lined her lower lids. "You're nervous for no reason."
Reassurances were not something that she had been expecting from the shorter redhead; the Black Widow didn't exactly come off as the mentoring type.
"Easy for you to say." Nicole snorted, instantly feeling contrite–and panicking–when she felt the woman pause in her movements. "I–I'm sorry. Shit."
"In the Red Room…" Romanoff began, "The weaker ones are weeded out early on. The process is less severe in SHIELD, but still effective. You are not the weaker one, Dugan, and you know it. You'll be fine."
Yep, I fell down the rabbit hole.She thought, forcing a shaky breath out of her lungs.
She wasn't entirely sure which was stranger; the fact that the infamous Black Widow–who could kill a man with her thighs–was offering blunt comforts, or the fact that she was doing it while still completely indifferent. Like she was just stating a fact, or talking about the weather, not spewing out empty platitudes.
How had Coulson convinced the woman to take on a supervisory operation?
"Walk me through the plan." Barton must have really rubbed off on her.
"I find the target, Emris Kankost, and convince him to leave the casino with me." She began, allowing herself to get lost in the repetitive movements of Romanoff's hands. "And I lead him out to a private area where you're waiting, where we apprehend him for questioning."
"Simple as that; you keep your cool and don't panic and we'll be fine." Romanoff confirmed, "Just a routine mission. Now, off with that top."
Just a routine mission?
"Just a routine mission." Nicole quipped, any nervousness gone out the window just like their plan. "Wear the stilettos, she said. It'll look better, she said."
"Are you always this mouthy?" Romanoff asked lightly, back pressed against the wall as she checked the remaining bullets in her clip.
"Only when getting shot at." She replied easily, swiping a hand across her nose and grimacing down at the blood that trailed down her wrist. "There sure are a lot of them out there, Widow."
She wasn't able to keep the tremor out of her voice, nor the bitterness. "Happy fucking birthday to me."
"It's your birthday?" Romanoff asked, leaning out of cover to fire off a few warning shots. "Twenty first?"
"Yup." She confirmed, doing the same and planting a bullet right between someone's eyes before diving back to avid the spatter of rapid fire bullets coming right for her head. "We getting out of this?"
"As soon as you get the chance, take a shot and aim for that wire." She gestured to where there were a number of industrial pipes being supported by a few thick cables. "You're going to get us out of this Dugan, and then you're going to get bumped up to Level Four."
She threw a thin smile at the senior agent, muscles tensing as she prepared to spring into motion. "You keep sweet talking me like that, Romanoff, and this could be the start of a beautiful friendship."
IOI
September 27, 2011, Location: Trondheim, Norway
"You and Romanoff are going to be dropped in Trondheim."
This was shit.
"Your job is to play up your cover as sisters, getting close to Grimstad's wife, Camila. Get into the family, get to know them."
It was complete and utter bullshit, but Nicole hadn't quite worked out why yet. She just knew that it was.
"Romanoff, your alias is Talia Andruis; your priority is getting access to Grimstad's personal computer. You'll use this drive to get SHIELD access to his files, including—hopefully—everything he has on Cordo Gaines."
It was supposed to be a very simple mission; Natasha was going to be a dancer and pianist, appealing to Camila's taste for fine art so that they could strike up an easy bond. SHIELD had been busy fabricating an in-depth story for a mission that had literally come up out of the blue.
"Dugan, your alias is Colette Andruis; your priority is getting to Grimstad himself, and convincing him to come over to SHIELD. You've been given a week to do this, but by the time that Romanoff gets that data you need to have him."
She was going to be the lab assistant, sent over from NTNU at the recommendation of an esteemed colleague. She had a week to work with him, determine if he would really be an asset to SHIELD and convince him to join them. Grimstad was a brilliant chemical engineer, and an idealist who wanted to save the world. The problem was, he thought that the Ten Rings were going to help him do that when really they were using his work to further spread their terror. It had been Gaines, an Italian cyber-genius, which had recruited him into the organization. It seemed that the man had been laying low after his prison break, he'd practically disappeared without a trace… until now.
But something about this still wasn't right. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she had been forced to wear one of the Photostatic veils and those always made her nose itch and she just couldn't scratch it. It had nothing to do with the fact that her eyes were a bright shade of green behind her fake glasses, or that her hair was an unflattering shade of blonde that Natasha pulled off beautifully. It was a gut feeling that she wasn't being told everything, even if she couldn't put her thumb on just what she was missing.
The mission was sudden, it was too sudden for her liking and they'd put her on it the exact day that she had gotten back from her vacation. Which was odd, because Nicole wasn't supposed to be on active missions anymore. And of all people, they put her with Natasha who could have easily—so fucking easily—run this by herself. But here she was, stepping into the apartment in Norway with her stupid blonde hair and her stupid itchy nose knowing that there was something that they were hiding from her.
And Romanoff knew exactly what it was.
It was simply a matter of convincing her partner to tell her. Nicole finished unpacking the things in her room, going through the motions of setting up the hidden camera and making it look like just the perfect amount of lived in when she heard the knock on her door frame. She didn't look up, not quite yet, as she brushed her fingers over the stacks of books that had come with the room.
"I've set up the secure line." Natasha announced quietly, causing Nicole to finally shift her attention to her partner.
She was leaning her hip comfortably against the doorframe, the wig abandoned and her eyes focused on Nicole as she scratched at her neck where the veil was stuck to her skin. "Security protocols in place?"
"We're safe… relatively speaking." Those two words were like music to her ears, and Nicole reached up to pull the mesh veil off of her face. Her other hand reached up instantly to rub at her nose while she moved to pull out the case for it.
"Oh thank God, that thing was driving me crazy." She moaned, pulling out the case to return it. It had been programmed to match Natasha's face near perfectly, aged so that Nicole looked a few years older than her partner and just a little more lined by those years. Her voice mimicked the Widow's with the veil on as well, the idea that Nicole would be running as Natasha's slightly older, more extroverted sister. Whereas Natasha would be playing the introvert–an interesting combination considering the fact that she was supposed to be a performer–with an innocent naivety to her that was supposedly exactly Mrs. Grimstad's type.
Relatively speaking, it was a simple mission and Nicole highly doubted that they were going to take the entire week to pull it off.
Which led her to the question of why exactly it was that Natasha hadn't been sent to handle it solo.
"So I've been looking at the itinerary." Natasha broached, flipping open the file in her hands. "You're reporting to the lab bright and early at eight in the morning."
She nodded, tucking a strand of the corn-yellow hair behind her ear. "And you've got a performance at noon that Camila will be seeing. If all goes according to plan, she'll be completely enamored."
"Just a routine mission." It was a simple phrase really, completely innocent in the way it was spoken but as soon as the words registered with her brain Nicole felt the barely simmering annoyance rise up to a boil.
"Just a routine mission." She repeated, pushing a breath of air out of her nose. "I suppose it is, isn't it?"
She dropped onto the bed, bouncing slightly as her frustration built.
"Something on your mind, Dugan?" Natasha quirked a curious brow, closing the file and setting it on the dresser as she came farther into the room. "Because you seem a little… tense."
Nicole huffed at that, looking down at the neatly manicured nails on her hands. The green nail polish had long since been stripped off and replaced with a shade of lavender–because she was apparently rocking the pastels for this mission–and they were trimmed back so that they weren't unnecessarily long. It was practical, and she was a fan of practicality.
"What am I doing here, Natasha?" She asked, her voice quiet and somber as she watched the redhead moving around her borrowed bedroom. "We both know that this is like child's play for you."
Natasha didn't respond at first, inspecting the clothes in the closet. There were a number of lightly colored sweaters and neutrally toned blouses, as well as dark dress pants and several knee length pencil skirts. It was office attire for the most part, and high end casual clothing as well. Nicole was less than thrilled with all of the heels in her closet though.
"You'd have to ask Coulson about that; he wanted both of us in on this." Natasha answered neutrally.
Oh no, Nicole thought, wrinkling her nose. You're not getting off that easy.
"Why is the question, Natasha? And we both know that you know. So what could the reason be for bringing both of us in? Obviously this requires espionage, infiltration… but you can do that. You're better at it than I am, everybody knows that." She wasn't really addressing Natasha so much as speaking aloud but Nicole kept cutting careful looks at the redhead waiting to see her reaction.
Natasha was as blank faced as ever.
"Negotiation then? Maybe, except we can remove Grimstad by force if necessary and you're good at talking people into what you want anyway. So this is something else, something—" Nicole froze, biting on her lower lip as she ran possibilities through her mind. "Is this about the Initiative? I was under the impression that I had already been evaluated for that though."
She remembered when Fury had first approached her about it; it had been a few days after the Harlem Incident when he'd asked her about whether or not Tony would fit with the little team that he wanted to put together. He'd offered her the invitation to join as well, and she'd agreed readily enough… As far as Nicole was aware she hadn't done anything to make Fury question his decision. Unless the incident before they'd left for DC had given him doubts…
But she wasn't sold on that.
"You're reading an awful lot into this." Natasha noted, having long since settled on the bed next to her. "What if it's just a mission?"
"Nat, I can count on both hands all of the missions we've been on together." The now-blonde snorted, shaking her head slightly. "And in all of those ops, the necessity of our roles has been blatantly obvious. You don't need a partner for this and if you did, well, Fury called Barton back from Texas—I imagine he was overjoyed considering how much he hates that climate—so why didn't he send Strike Team: Delta?"
Unless they needed Clint for something else. This was some sort of evaluation, she was almost certain about it, but why were they evaluating her? And why stick her with a partner unless…
"You want to put me on a team." The realization hit Nicole like a train, her eyes widening in surprise. "You want to put me on a team, and the person you want to partner me with is important enough that Fury wants Hawkeye to evaluate him for field performance. It's Steve isn't it?"
A slight twitch of the lips that almost could have been a smirk was all the response she received from the Black Widow, and Nicole let out an audible groan at that.
"You couldn't have just told me upfront? Why the reach around?" She demanded.
Natasha shrugged her shoulders, pushing to her feet. "Coulson wanted to see how long it'd take you to figure it out."
"Didn't take all that long." Just from the moment she'd received the dossier to now.
"You're a smart kid, Dugan." Natasha brushed off the imaginary lint from her black pants. "I'd have been disappointed otherwise."
"Yeah, well, now that the secret's out what say we get this show on the road? We still need to do some recon of the city, right?" At Natasha's nod Nicole lifted her lips in a smile. "Good. Hope your Norwegian is up to snuff."
IOI
September 28, 2011, Location: Trondheim, Norway
She needed a shower. She needed a long, hot, shower to wash off the gross feeling that seemed to be clinging to her skin. Nicole was used to being ogled by men, she really was. For the most part it came with the job; her height made her a bit on the exotic side to a good portion of people, as did her hair color and she knew her features were striking. Especially when she looked a good deal like Romanoff, who had used her physical attractiveness to get her through a great many operations. It wasn't like this was anything new, and more often than not it was easy for her to brush off the lustful glances or use them to her advantage.
But this was… it was something different.
It wasn't even Grimstad himself; the man was very polite and even after a few minutes of talking to him Nicole could see he was a genius. It was his partner, David Monroe, whose purpose had been a vague explanation of he's just here to keep an eye on everything and maintain the investors' interest. Nicole was almost certain that by investors Grimstad had meant the Ten Rings. Her first day back in a lab in months and she'd been subjected to thinly veiled comments and lingering hands that made her want to throw up.
As soon as Natasha got back they could collaborate and she would voice her concerns to her partner before they called in to Phil. There was something nasty and malicious about Monroe that made her want to put a bullet between his eyes.
Stepping onto the apartment, Nicole checked the time; it was just gone past five-thirty and Natasha should be returning soon. If the redhead was victorious in her endeavors—and she would be—Nat would be returning with an invitation to dinner at the Grimstad's. Nicole had been the right mix of flirty and competent enough to get her own, and at promptly seven-thirty a car would arrive to pick her—them?—up. Which meant that she did have time to shower and scrub herself clean before getting ready for the night ahead.
Joy of joys.
Before she did that, however, Nicole made her way to the back room where the secure line was. They'd had a late night last night so she hadn't been able to call Steve and check in on him. Not that he needed it; he was a grown adult and Nicole more than trusted him to be able to handle a week without her, but it would be the first time since he'd woken up that he'd had the apartment all to himself for more than a night. Call her old fashioned, but she worried.
"Miss me already, Dugan?" He answered the phone, and she swore she could hear the grin in his voice.
It was infectious and she couldn't help but return the smile even though he couldn't see it. "I did, yeah. What time is it over there?"
"Uh, it's going on noon." Steve answered, "Have you settled in alright? You sound different."
"Just peachy, yeah. Went out and about, saw the city and spent the day at work in the lab. And I sound different because I'm still in disguise; the mask I'm wearing alters my voice as well." She pushed a hand through her hair, jostling the glasses slightly as she scratched at the edge of the veil. She wanted to take it off, but once the game had actually started she couldn't remove it unless she was in the shower or going to bed. You didn't know who could be coming through the door at any moment.
"Sounds like fun…" There was a crashing of pots and pans in the background, causing Nicole to flinch and prompting two distinct swears from different people. "Damnit."
"Who in the fuck keeps their fucking pans in the–"
"Is that Barton?" Nicole asked curiously, "Because that sounds like Barton. Why the hell is he in the apartment?"
"Fuck you Dugan!" The archer called back, voice sounding far away but still clear, like she was on speaker.
"Clint's my liaison while you're out." Steve explained, "He was staying at the barracks at the Bank, but I offered the couch. Figured it would be a little more comfortable than those beds."
Nicole pursed her lips at those words, hearing the omission in them. There was something that he wasn't telling her, and she couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do the revelation she'd had yesterday.
"Fair enough. While he's there, though, let him know that I have a couple of jars of pickles in the cabinet under the coffee pot and he's welcome to have them. Most of them. Tell him to take all of them except for two, because I love pickles but I will honestly die if I try and finish off all of those jars." She peered over at the clock, biting her lip when she realized it was already almost six. She was starting to lose shower time.
"Sweet! Pickles!" Clint sounded thoroughly thrilled, the same tone he used every other time she'd given him the surplus pickles her Mémère sent her home with. Nicole couldn't help but smile at that, her hand pressing into her mouth.
"I've got to go." If her words sounded reluctant, they were; Nicole would much rather follow up on their conversation, she'd much rather chat with him about his day, but she had a job to do. "I need to get a shower before this stupid party."
"Party?" Steve asked, tone perking in curiosity. "Just what do they have you doing over there?"
She traced her nail along the edge of the Photostatic veil, peeling at one corner. "I'll tell you all about it as soon as I get home. And make sure that the bird cleans up after himself."
"Stay safe out there, Dugan." Steve warned.
"Always do, Rogers." She answered. "Talk to you soon."
As soon as she lowered the phone from her face, returning it to the holder, she finished removing the veil. It felt like… wearing it was like having a clay mask caked on her face and pulling it off was washing her skin clean. It felt lighter, and cleaner, like her pores were opening and it was wonderful. The veil shimmered in her hands, the hexagonal patterns shining gold when it caught the light and she supposed it was actually rather pretty in a way. If not for the fact that the damn thing made her face feel weird and her throat sore, which didn't make any sense considering the fact that it didn't actually do anything with her vocal chords.
She carried it to the bathroom, setting it on the sink as she began removing her work clothes. They were neatly left in the hamper, someone would wash them after they left, and Nicole found herself pausing on her way into the shower.
She didn't look at herself in the mirror often, but there was something about the look in her eyes that made her pause. When was the last time she'd studied her features; genuinely studied them without the addition of makeup or to make sure that she looked right for a mission?
She dragged her fingertips along her cheekbone, tracing the mess of freckles that went across them. There were… a lot. Sandy used to joke about how she was going to try and count every single one, her light touches tickling across her face before Nicole would get squeamish and press her lips against those fingers. She had long since moved past the part of her life where she was insecure about the marks on her skin, about the way kids would make fun of her for them. She had always been aware of her face, but looking at it now, in the mirror… so much of it she recognized from her mother, from her grandfather and the lineage she knew. But Nicole saw the parts of her that didn't belong to that family, that didn't belong to this realm.
Would she know her biological father if she saw him? Would it just click for her? Maybe they had met already; she had been all over the nine realms with Thor and Loki in her life–time passed strangely outside of Midgard–was it possible? Had she seen him and just walked by? Perhaps she had nodded to him politely, held a conversation?
This train of thought has turned thoroughly reflective. A voice in her head noted, and she pulled back with a shake.
Nicole wasn't one to contemplate the past often, she wasn't one to think about the man who had contributed to half of her genetics. As far as she was concerned the man–male–had done absolutely nothing for her and therefore could go fuck himself.
It was the sound of the front door opening that had her hurrying into motion, pulling open the steam-frosted glass door of the shower and stepping inside.
"Colette?" She heard Natasha call out. "I'm home."
She was alone; the woman would have warned her if she'd brought company back with her.
"I just stepped into the shower." She shouted back, "Give me, like, ten minutes."
"You'll never guess," Natasha's voice drew closer as the woman walked down the hall. "Who I ran into."
It certainly wasn't the first time she'd held a conversation while bathing; Nicole and her mom had done the same frequently while working around their morning schedules. "Who did you run into?"
"Your boss's wife, Camila Grimstad." Natasha answered, staying in character in case someone happened to be listening in on them. "She invited me to this lovely little get together, isn't it the same one you're going to?"
"Tonight at their house?" Nicole followed, slipping back into the mind state that she'd been given a temporary reprieve of as she scrubbed at her skin. "Yeah. How did your show go?"
"Place was packed, lines around the block. They really did some advertising for it, and I did well; at least I assume so, there were a lot of flowers and people waiting to meet me." Natasha's answer was louder, clearer as she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Nicole's first order of business was to dry off her face and her hair, a passing thought making the blonde strands twist into near perfect curls that she pinned back into a simple style. She then lifted the veil, making sure that her skin was perfectly dry before adhering it back over her features.
Once more green eyes blinked back at her in the mirror, and Nicole gave herself a quick once-over to make sure that the nano mask had been applied properly. She didn't have a lot of experience using the things, but she had caught on quickly and she was glad to find that there were no folds or ripples in the material. Satisfied that her disguise was firmly in place Nicole wrapped the towel tightly around her body as she left the bathroom to find Natasha leaning against the opposite wall.
"We need to talk about Grimstad, or more importantly his supervisor." Nicole informed her partner, effortlessly switching to Latin. She had learned the language out of a general interest, the only language she hadn't needed to speak specifically for work because it was a dead language. And if someone did have their apartment bugged, it was easy to explain why they spoke it; Talia and Colette Andruis were very close siblings, and they had learned it together in college as a sort of secret language.
Natasha arched a curious brow at that, pushing off of the wall. "Oh?"
"David Monroe; he's a creep and something about the way he watched me made me anxious." She explained, stepping out of the way. "I got the feeling that he knew, somehow, that I wasn't just an intern. The way he was watching me, it was… eugh."
"Let me get a read on him." Natasha answered, fingers curling around the doorframe as she paused. "I don't know how they could have gotten wind of our involvement, but if your gut is telling you this… we'll keep an eye on him."
Nicole let out a laugh then, her paranoia painting a smile on her face. "Relax, little sis. I didn't take up all of the hot water."
"Good to know." Natasha replied with an air of exasperation. "And stay out of my closet!"
The door shut behind the shorter woman, leaving Nicole to drip in the hallway as she headed for her bedroom. As soon as the door shut behind her, she loosened the towel and used it to dry the rest of her body as she inspected her closet. Nicole Dugan would prefer to wear one of the nicer sweaters and a pair of slacks; it would be comfortable while still looking nice and it would allow her maneuverability if something were to happen.
Unfortunately for her, Nicole Dugan was not going to the Grimstad's party and Colette Andruis was. Colette didn't have to worry about being attacked, because most people didn't worry about needing to fight for their lives when they went to their boss's house for a welcome party. Where Natasha was playing innocent and painfully naive, Nicole had a different angle; she was the older sister, mature and responsible sure but also a little bolder. The photo manipulations they'd done to insure her cover were certainly proof of that.
So instead of the clothes she would have picked, Nicole reached for a slinky black dress and set it carefully on her bed before grabbing the pumps underneath it. They were very nice, made out of a material that caught and reflected the light very well. Changing quickly, Nicole balanced carefully as she fit the shoes onto her feet. They have her a few more inches in height, and the already tall woman ducked slightly on her way out the door. Natasha was waiting, already dressed in a much more subdued shirt and skirt, and the shorter woman gave her a quick glance.
"You clean up nice." She noted with a smirk, watching as Nicole pulled the coat around her body.
"Thanks." She replied, "I think?"
"The car's going to be here soon, are you ready?" Nicole pursed her lips at that question, shaking the tension out of her shoulders as she forced herself into a relaxed pose.
"As ready as I'll ever be." She tossed a thin smile at her partner, "I apologize in advance if I shank someone with a cocktail fork."
Her lips twitched in amusement at that, reaching for a sparkling clutch just as there was a knock on the door. Nicole let out a sigh, face shifting into a mask of anticipation as she reached for the door. Regardless of her apprehensions dealing with Dr. Grimstad, she had a job to do and Nicole was never one to shy away from her duty.
It didn't stop her from wishing that she had a weapon hidden somewhere on her body.
IOI
September 29, 2011, Location: Trondheim, Norway
"You and your sister were an absolute delight to have at the party last night, my dear." Nicole smiled warmly at Dr. Grimstad, adjusting the clipboard in her hands and scribbling down the reaction time of the chemicals.
She was starting to like the guy, he had a lot of big ideas and believed that he was doing the right thing for all of his naivety about the organization he worked for. "Thank you doctor. Talia and I really enjoyed ourselves. Your wife's stories were absolutely hilarious!"
"Camila never gets tired of telling those stories." He smiled kindly at her, patting her shoulder absently as he moved around her. "Though each time the tales get taller and taller!"
"But that's how you know it's good." Nicole chuckled, resetting the trials. They were officially attempting to create a water-soluble solution that would be able to dissolve and neutralize any type of oil. It had been sold to her as a mixture that would completely change the game in terms of response to oil spills–nobody wanted a repeat of the Roxxon spill–and at face value it was a project that Nicole would have loved to collaborate on.
But she highly doubted that the Ten Rings was interested for its environmental impact; if properly manipulated the solution could be geared towards more than just petroleum oils. It could be geared towards the oils naturally produced by human beings and used as a biological weapon. And as somebody who happened to produce oil naturally in their body, Nicole had more than ample reason to stop the weapon from being developed.
"We have some improvement in reaction times from yesterday, doctor." She informed him, absently adjusting her glasses. "I dare say that you don't need me at all with how far you've gotten this developed."
Dr. Grimstad smiled at her, his hands working with several beakers as he mixed more chemicals. "You do not give yourself enough credit, dear. Your professors recommended you specifically, and I've been able to accomplish so much with you here. This work, it's going to change the world."
So why are you working with terrorists? She wanted to ask.
"Aw shucks, doc." She beamed instead, "You're going to make me blush."
"Oh I highly doubt that." Dr. Grimstad chuckled. "You know my dear Camila is absolutely besotted with your younger sister. How long did you say that she's staying in the city?"
Nicole set down her clipboard, cracking her knuckles as she shook them out. "Talia's performing for this week before she moves on to London. She wants me to come with her, but I don't know if I will; I've got to admit, I love this facility."
"So I have a week to convince you to stay, eh?"
More like I've got a week to convince you to leave. She answered in her head. And I don't get it… you're not a bad guy, doc, so why are you here?
"Ian?" Her lips closed at the new presence in the room, head ducking as she went back to her work. "The director would like to speak with you."
There was no missing the way Grimstad tensed up, even though he tried to play it off. The man had a tell; he would always adjust his glasses and look at his feet whenever he was uncomfortable. And judging by the way he was studying his shoes, he was definitely uncomfortable. Not that she could blame him, Nicole wanted to crawl out of her skin when she felt Monroe's gaze flick over to her briefly though she was much better at concealing it.
"Right, of course." Grimstad threw her a reassuring smile, pretending for all the world that nothing was the matter. "Colette, you'll be fine by yourself? The second batch still needs titrated."
She blinked up at him, glancing over to where the tubes were positioned. "Not a problem, doc."
"What did I do without you?" She quirked an eyebrow at that, clicking her pen as she tucked it back into the pocket of her lab coat.
"I can imagine a few things," Nicole practically purred, "But none of them good."
Dr. Grimstad laughed as he left the lab, heading to his private office. Nicole watched the older man go, his movements stiff and jerky as he closed the door and grabbed the phone off the ringer. She quickly dropped her eyes back to the table when he threw a furrowed glance back at her, busying her hands with the glass vials. Silence was usually comfortable for her, but such was not the case when she was sharing her space with a man who kept staring at her.
Nicole forced herself to remain relaxed, letting the silence draw out as she waited for Monroe to speak.
"So how are we doing, Ms. Andruis?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous as he eased closer to her. "With the experiments I mean?"
"We've got some promising results." She answered, forcing enthusiasm into her words. "Right now the doctor and I are trying to lessen the exposure time before the solution fully breaks down the oil."
Green eyes lifted as she began adding the hydrochloric acid, brows knitting together in concentration. "Really, Dr. Grimstad could have finished this all without me. I feel like I jumped in on this at the last moment."
"I respectfully disagree, Ms. Andruis." Monroe purred, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ian has been singing your praises since you started yesterday. You've been quite helpful."
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Monroe." Long lashes fluttered behind the lenses of her glasses as Nicole bit her lower lip.
"Call me David, please." His fingers tightened against her skin, not enough to be uncomfortable but there was an undeniable feeling of possessiveness that accompanied the gesture. "You looked amazing at the get together last night."
"David." Nicole offered coyly, rolling the word on her tongue and taking care as she pronounced it.
Like it or not David Monroe seemed to have an interest in her. Natasha had confirmed her suspicions when they'd gotten back last night, and they'd passed on their findings to Coulson. Their boss wanted her to use whatever leverage she could to get information on the Ten Rings, which meant that Nicole was going to use his attraction to her advantage. And this time she wouldn't feel nearly as guilty as she typically did.
"I have to admit, you looked pretty sharp yourself." She leaned into his touch for a brief moment, before her attention was once more engrossed by the samples. "And if we're on a first name basis now, I'll have to insist that you call me Colette."
"You have a lovely name." He moved behind her, hand slipping to brush across her lower back. "To tell you the truth, I was a little skeptical about Ian's insistence on an assistant; the investors of our project wanted it to remain very close knit. I'm glad that he managed to talk me around though, you were definitely worth it."
Nicole had to resist the urge to puke, as well as the urge to set his hair on fire until he finally stepped away, giving her room to breathe without the scent of his potent cologne. She broadened the space between them as she moved to grab her pen and mark the results on the table.
"I'm glad he managed to talk you around too." She smiled, this one a little more genuine as she chewed on the cap. "Being able to collaborate on a project like this, it's amazing."
And it was; the biochemist in her would have killed for the chance to work with Dr. Grimstad under normal circumstances. But these weren't normal circumstances, this was SHIELD wanting to see if she could handle working with a partner. Not just any partner though, if all went well, they were going to put her with Steve.
A part of Nicole didn't want the mission to go well. It was the small part of her that liked working mostly solo missions, the part that was comfortable in the way things were currently. She found herself forgetting that Steve was Captain America sometimes; without him being on active duty, she didn't have to worry about the super soldier. He was just her friend, and she loved their dynamic together. How would that change in the field? She had seen friends become partners and it always ended one of two ways; either they would become an amazing team like Strike Team: Delta, or it would crash and burn.
The side of her that wanted to resist change was a little terrified of both aspects.
But now wasn't the time to think about that, because any distraction could potentially jeopardize their operation.
"Well, I filled the director in on our progress." Dr. Grimstad exhaled as he returned to the lab, "How's everything going in here?"
"Absolutely wonderful, doc." Nicole answered brightly, "Almost done with the second batch."
"Excellent! David, was there anything else you needed?" There was something slightly forced in his voice, though Monroe gave no indication of it. The slender man just shook his head, an affable smile on his face as he collected his files and turned towards the door.
He paused, throwing a look over his shoulder that landed on Nicole and made a knot form in her stomach. "I almost forgot to tell you; the investors will be coming on Friday for a demonstration."
Grimstad nodded stiffly, the atmosphere of the lab charging uneasily. "We'll make sure to have everything ready for them."
"I should hope so, Ian." Monroe smirked, revealing his perfectly white teeth, "You know how much is riding on this project… but I am assured you'll wow us."
His icy blue eyes met Nicole's again. "I look forward to seeing you in action."
I look forward to seeing you in jail.
As soon as Monroe was gone, Dr. Grimstad let out a barely audible sigh of relief as he shook his head. "Well, that was…"
"Fun?" The blonde offered jokingly. "You've already come so far, doc. The investors will be more than impressed with your work."
Grimstad smiled at her then, it was a grateful twist of the lips as he tapped his pen against his own clipboard. "Our work now. You sure you don't want to stay and work at the lab?"
"An argument could be made." She lied easily, before a curious expression stole over her features. "Tell me about the investors, you didn't seem entirely thrilled when you heard the news."
Dr. Grimstad gave a rather vague wiggle of the hand, a grimace twisting the lines of his otherwise pleasant face. "They pay the bills; I wouldn't be nearly as far in my research if not for them. But… to be honest they're intimidating and some of their other projects have been less than lucrative. I don't exactly like working for them–especially considering that they have Monroe hovering like a dog–but they're the only group willing to cough up the not-insubstantial funds needed."
She bit hard on the inside of her lip, hard enough that she worried about drawing blood, at that news. It was an incredibly helpful tidbit of information, one that took main track in the back of her mind as her thoughts started spinning. If money was the only thing that kept him with the Ten Rings, money and fear anyway, then she had a good chance of convincing him to join SHIELD. Money wasn't exactly a problem for SHIELD; not only were they a government organization but they had a tendency to recruit the best so their research always had a tendency to draw the favor of prime investors.
Ian Grimstad wanted to change the world, wanted to make it a better place. It was a motive that she could get behind and one that she could support… Convincing him would be easy, if she could get him somewhere secure to have an actual conversation with him. Nicole felt a swell of victory at that, one that she bit back into a curious expression.
"So if you were able to find other investors?" She asked innocently.
The look fissured over his expression again, lips pinching white in the corners as he lifted his hand to shift his glasses. "It's not that simple, I'm afraid. I've already signed several binding contracts; like it or not these investors have put too much into making this happen that I can't just jump ship."
Of course there was something more that he wasn't saying, and Nicole knew exactly what it was.
The Ten Rings had probably threatened him, his wife and his family if he tried to leave. Not outright, she suspected, that would clue him in instantly that his research wasn't being taken at face value, but most corporations were good at being subtle.
So was she, however.
"Well," She sighed, "What can you do?"
"Figure out a way to get these results into our projected area?" Dr. Grimstad offered, a tired smile on his face.
"Can we do that?" The blonde joked, "I dunno doc, seems like a pretty tall order."
The responding chuckle was more than a little satisfying, and Nicole reached for their results. "If anyone can do it, Ms. Andruis, it's us."
"No doubt about it, doc." They returned to their work, chatting about this and that; Dr. Grimstad brought up Talia's performance schedule, she replied with a fabricated story of an overzealous friend. She made an off-hand comment about some of the work she'd done in college, he followed up with a quick-yet-hilarious story about a benefit he'd gone to with some other big names in the science community. In the comfort of the lab environment, it was almost easy to forget the fact that she was actually an agent of SHIELD. It was the sort of space that she had gone to college for; a high-tech chemical lab doing work that would make the world a better place.
Around four forty-five however the illusion was shattered in the form of a text from Natasha.
Secret admirer?
The following picture was a bouquet of white lilies, a card flipped open so that she could read the message scrawled in beautiful calligraphy.
Collette,
You looked absolutely gorgeous today, even in a lab coat and gloves. Would you like to meet me for dinner tomorrow?
47 2654 0078
David.
It took every iota of restraint to keep from rolling her eyes. Not only was it a horribly cheesy gesture, but dinner sounded like the absolute worst thing to do with David Monroe.
Think I should go?
She replied, in the process of cleaning up the lab and setting the samples in protected containers for the night. Dr. Grimstad worked in silence, his expression thoughtful but his movements familiar and hurried as he was no doubt looking forward to getting home.
Camilla was apparently in the process of arranging a surprise.
Definitely. Who knows what kind of information you can get off of him. He's a handsome guy, dad would approve.
A subtle reminder that the purpose of the mission was information as much as it was recruitment.
"Something going on?" Dr. Grimstad asked, noticing her distraction by the burner phone.
Nicole swallowed, looking up with an absent wave of the arm. "It turns out I've made a better impression on Mr. Monroe than I thought."
"I see." The older man noted. "David certainly knows how to charm people, that's for certain. Are you thinking of taking him up on his offer?"
Hell no.
"I was, actually." She answered, her acting skills on point as she managed to keep the disgust out of her words. "He's been so nice since I got to the lab."
Which had only actually been one day, but that was irrelevant.
Her lips pulled back, the expression sly. "Plus, he is very handsome."
"You're not the first person I've heard say that." Dr. Grimstad snorted, "Just be careful dear… I'd hate for you to bite off more than you can handle."
Nicole laughed at that, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she shed the lab coat and returned it to the rung. "Don't you worry about me, there's a lot I can handle."
They shared a chuckle at that, both making their way out of the lab. "Besides, what harm is there in dinner?"
For all of her clever intuition, Nicole should have realized as soon as those words left her mouth that she was about to be in deep trouble.
IOI
September 30, 2011, Location: Trondheim, Norway
"Status report." Nicole bit her lip at Coulson's voice, tapping her nails along the lacquered surface of the dresser.
Natasha was sitting up on her bed, one leg crossed over the other as she twirled the phone between her fingers. "I'm going to the estate tomorrow, a private show for Camila and a little sleep over that should get me access to the office. It should be smooth sailing from there."
"Excellent." Phil sounded satisfied, but not even a little surprised; not that he should be, there was a reason why he had assigned the Black Widow to this mission. "What about you, Dugan?"
"Judging by the conversation I had with Grimstad, it won't be hard to convince him that SHIELD will be a better choice. I've got dinner with his handler, Monroe, and I'm going to see if I can get some sort of information on the Ten Rings' plan. Right now we only have speculation on what they plan on doing with the solution and I know I sure as hell would sleep a lot better if we got something more concrete."
"Well it would certainly make my day better." Coulson quipped, "But be careful not to blow your cover. Ruining whatever it is that the Ten Rings has planned by recruiting the doctor is enough for me. How far along is the solution?"
"It's pretty far. Would be farther if I didn't keep altering the procedure, but even if the Rings get the research they won't be able to replicate it." She answered honestly, a Cheshire grin on her face.
"That's what I like to hear. Like I said though, be careful with Monroe and make sure your communicators work so that you can call for the clean-up team when you get done." There was a subtle shift in tone from Coulson then, his warning becoming slightly strained and distracted. "Keep me posted."
"Will do." Natasha assured their SO before the line disconnected. Green eyes slid over to where Nicole was leaning with her side against the dresser, inspecting the crisp lines of her skirt. It, like the tight fitting blouse, were designed to be just the right amount of sexy and professional. Natasha herself had picked out the outfit, insisting that she also do Nicole's hair and make-up.
It was sort of ritual for the two women, since the first undercover op that they ran together, in her early days at SHIELD. She was not a member of Strike Team: Delta, not even close to it, and Nicole knew that in the long run Hawkeye and the Widow were an inseparable team, but she had run operations with the two before. She had also run jobs with both of the agents solo, though for the most part Nicole worked alone or with Bobbi or Trip. In the handful of times she had been paired with Natasha–mostly undercover–Nicole had come to trust her fellow redhead, and consider her a friend. Not quite to the point where they stayed up late trading secrets, but a beer after work or a couch to crash on? Definitely.
And to the point where Nicole trusted Natasha to hold a sharp eyeliner pencil without stabbing her in the eye.
"You should head out." Natasha warned, eyebrow quirking as she stood up to fix an errant curl. "Don't want to keep David waiting."
Nicole let out a whine at that, barely refraining from stomping her foot like a child. "Or, or–and here me out here–you could just shoot me in the leg so I don't have to go. Come on, I'm giving you a free shot here, no repercussions."
The assassin just tipped her head back and laughed, nose wrinkling slightly as she studied the taller woman. "No can do, I need your ass in working condition."
"No fun." Nicole pouted, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. "But you're right, I've got to go."
"You have the recording device?" At her nod, Natasha took a step back to allow her passage out of the bedroom.
"Everything is prepped and ready to go." It was actually a rather genius little invention courtesy of the lab; the wire was actually the sparkling flower pin in her hair, requiring just a light touch to turn it on. "I'll see you later tonight."
"Check in!"
It was chilly outside, dipping down into the thirties and making her grateful for the jacket she was wearing. Goosebumps trailed up her legs as soon as they hit the cool air and Nicole huffed as she quickened her steps. She was supposed to be meeting Monroe at a small little bistro right on the waterfront; the location itself would be beautiful, if not leaving a lot to be desired in terms of company. The walk was short, but charming, and as she drew closer to the restaurant Nicole found her path blocked by a man wearing a very nice gray suit and carrying a glass of champagne and a solitary lily.
God, someone knows how to lay it on thick. Bruh, we just met. She thought to herself, the acidity in her brain not translating to the surprised smile that lit her face.
"For me?" She asked, bringing the lily to her nose to inhale the fragrant scent.
At least it wasn't a rose.
"Mr. Monroe would like to direct you to his private table." The man rumbled, his voice deep. "If you will follow the lights? He is waiting for you."
"Such a romantic." She purred, heels clicking on the pier as she moved along the line of strung up lights.
There was a table set up all by it's lonesome in a pristine spot that looked over the sea. The view of the sun dropping down to dip gently at the lapping waves was absolutely breathtaking, and her lips pulled up a little more genuinely as she lifted the glass to her lips. It was expensive champagne but she hadn't expected anything differently, the kind of expensive that warranted it be drank out of a white wine glass as opposed to a normal fluted one.
It tasted delicious, the bubbles fizzing down her throat and leaving an aftertaste that was sweet but foreign and she just couldn't place it…
"All of this for me?" She called, her voice low and throaty directed at the solitary figure sitting at the table.
The man twisted in his seat slightly, David Monroe grinning at her in a way that immediately set her nerves on high alert. There was something in his eyes, it was dark and sinister and Nicole knew at that moment that she had made a horrible mistake. It was the look of the cat that had caught the canary, a look that she had seen before–one she had worn before–and she knew that it meant bad news.
"I'm willing to do a lot for you." He replied simply, leaning back in his seat. "How do you like the champagne?"
"It has an interesting after taste." Unwilling to show how thrown she was, Nicole took a few steps closer.
Her legs felt light, like they did when she was tipsy, and her vision swam at the motion like she'd been slipped some Asgardian ale. Which was when it clicked and Nicole started mentally berating herself. Of course the champagne had an aftertaste; it was laced with something. Something that she suspected was supposed to have knocked her on her ass if the vaguely impressed look on Monroe's face was anything to go by.
"Only the best for you…" He recovered quickly though, nodding to someone just over her shoulder. "Sentinel."
"How did you–?" Nicole tried to twist on her heel when she felt the tall presence over her shoulder, two things happening at once.
The wineglass slipped from her rapidly numbing fingers, shattering on the pier as she lost her balance and her ankle rolled. The man in the gray suit caught her as though she weighed nothing, arms closing around her like vices even as he placed a cloth to her face. The sickly-sweet scent was overwhelming and try as she might Nicole couldn't keep from inhaling the chloroform. Black spots started dotting her vision and despite her best efforts and half-breed genetics her body went limp as her eyes slid shut.
Shit.
IOI
UPDATE!
Breaking the Ice is most likely going to cap off at about 30 chapters.
Taking a small hiatus over the summer after I finish this story, to build up some buffer chapters for the sequels, may still post some random one-shots and will probably put them all in one story.
What's next?
-Very short (10 chapter) Avengers fic
-The post-WS story (I haven't worked out a title for that) which is going to be centered around Steve, Bucky and Nicole as previously mentioned
-The Woman With the Eagle, which is the one I wrote that one-shot for back around New Year's, which is going to be a Steve Rogers/ OC story (because I really love my OC's)
-A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words –or – Through My Filter (still haven't decided which title I like better) which is going to be a Bruce Banner/ OC story
I've got plans going up to AoU and beyond, but it will be diverging from canon especially in terms of pairings.
Age of Ultron speed review:
-Loved the movie, had some issues with it.
-No Romananners for me, sorry. (if you liked the romance, that's great and more power to you but it didn't work for me mostly because of how it was presented and it seemed OOC for both Bruce and Nat)
- There will be Romananners bromance though, I really like them as platonic friends because I think it fits them a lot better.
-Vision! (PAUL BETTANY YOU ABSOLUTELY PERFECT MANGO)
-The Maximoff twins are my heart.
-Grumpy Clint is my reason for living.
-I identify with Ultron on a spiritual level and I think he's my fav villain ever.
Here's a quick list of the pairings that I have planned (which I made a shift from what I had originally planned because I'm shipper trash)
-Tony Stark/ Pepper Potts
-Thor/ Jane Foster
-Vision/ Wanda Maximoff
-Steve Rogers/ OC
-Bruce Banner/ OC
-Natasha Romanoff/ Clint Barton
-Bobbi Morse/ Lance Hunter
Also, there will be Agents of SHIELD crossovers, and wrapping up this monstrosity I'm again going to say thank you guys so freaking much for reading and responding to this story. I just checked the stats and there have been over 7k hits, almost sixty follows and almost half as many favorites. Your responses to this is really what keeps me going, and I love you all so very much. You're all perfect cinnamon buns, to good for this world, too pure.
Adara.
