Ugh, am super sorry that this chapter is so late. :( I'm working on the next chapter, and have actually gotten the rest of the story pretty decently outlined so I'll have that to work with. I had lots of fun writing this one, mostly because undercover work is not Steve's area of expertise.

Huge thanks to . for helping me out with the French phrases in the story, which were completely taken from Google translate, and AllAwesomeness for agreeing to look over this mess for me! You guys are hella rad!

Not to mention, this story has had approximately 12K hits, and holy actual futz you guys that is amazing.

So thank you all so much, and please let me know how you're feeling about this story!

Adara.

Chapter Twenty Four:

May 17, 2011, Location: Harlem, NY

"Who are you?" She froze at that question, a frown on her face as her fingers tightened on the gun in her hand. Samuel Sterns was regarding her curiously from where he leaned against the door frame of the lab. The man… did not look good; his head was swollen and throbbing around a cut near his hairline.

"Agent Dugan, of SHIELD." She answered briskly, swallowing the disgust on her face. "What happened here, Dr. Sterns?"

The way he smiled at her was disconcerting, it was wide and toothy and borderline hysterical made worse by the fact that his head just kept pulsing. "History, Agent Dugan of SHIELD. Evolution. Mankind's stepping stone to godhood."

"That's a tall order." She snorted, gaze scanning the vicinity. Sterns was the only one on the floor it seemed; everyone else was either dead or evacuated from the Abomination's appearance. "Humanity doesn't need to attain godhood."

"And you would know all about that, wouldn't you, Agent Dugan? Godhood, that is." Those words made her go still, tension bleeding into every inch of her frame. "I can see it in you, you think you hide it so well."

"See what, exactly?" She asked, straining to keep her voice cool and composed. She did hide it so well, she'd been hiding it for almost twenty years now.

"You're not human, Agent Dugan of SHIELD." Sterns looked practically gleeful, "even though you pretend to be, and oh how you pretend. I can see it, it's in the way you walk, the way you stand. Different blood pumps through your veins, a different soul peeks through your eyes."

The redhead kept her face clear of any reaction, masking the bubbling panic clawing at her throat. She was already on the gifted index, she was already an 084, she could only imagine what SHIELD would do to her if they realized she wasn't fully human. Especially after what had just happened in New Mexico. Images of sterile white labs, gray rooms and being locked in a hole and forgotten about flashed through her mind. The critical part of her knew that was illogical; she was a Legacy, a high ranking legacy and there was no way SHIELD - even with all of it's compartmentalizing - would be able to get away with any of that.

But she remembered the glass room, screaming and crying and scared and alone.

"What happened here, Dr. Sterns?" She asked again, voice cold and crisp and harsh.

"Evolution, Agent Dugan! Beautiful, powerful, and unstoppable! And I'm a part of it, look!" The man gestured to his swollen head, heaving and panting as his babbling became more rapid and excited. "It's wonderful, the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"

He paused, eyes sliding to her figure speculatively and more calculating than she would like. "I mixed it with Blonsky, but that's not beautiful… not like Banner. It's ugly and crass and fitting… but you Agent Dugan of SHIELD, you could be something more. Something - "

The crack of her gun interrupted whatever he had been about to propose, replacing it with an agonized shout as he collapsed to the ground. "You talk too much, Dr. Sterns."

Striding forward she grabbed the scientist, hoisting him to his feet and dragging him farther away from the office. "This is Dugan to STRIKE. I've got the package prepped for pick up. Looks like he's been exposed to gamma radiation."

"Roger that, Sentinel." There was a flurry of footsteps not even two minutes later, and she saw Rumlow storming in with the rest of the STRIKE team. Nicole stepped back as they clapped Sterns in handcuffs, Rollins practically carrying the man away.

"That was quick." She noted, lips twitching slightly.

"You sounded like you really needed us." Rumlow shrugged, that cocky amusement shining in his eyes as he studied the area. "What's the plan for destroying the samples? Detonations?"

She shook her head, fingers absently picking at the tattered sleeve of her jacket. In retrospect the white leather had not been a good choice.

"Take Sterns to the Cube." Nicole answered after a moment, fingers clenching. "I'll handle this myself."

October 29, 2011, Location: Houston, TX

"Check your six," Nicole hissed, finger pressed into her ear as she balanced a plate of shrimp puffs on one hand. "Leaning against the bar, tacky plaid suit jacket. The target is watching you."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Steve shift his attention, blue eyes sliding over to the man in question per her suggestion. "I got him."

"Start chatting him up." She hissed in warning. "You need the invitation to the private showing or we're boned."

Steve didn't answer that, long fingers snagging one of the many fluted glasses filled with champagne as he started moving towards where the target was leaning against the wall. To the untrained eye - the untrained eye who wasn't being blinded by that gaudy pattern - the man with the perfectly coiffed black hair and the more than slightly impressive beard was engaged in a flirtatious conversation with some model or another. But Nicole wasn't the untrained eye, and she had seen the subtle, quick glances that the mark had been sliding to Steve for the past three hours.

Curious, assessing glances.

It was their first official SHIELD sanctioned mission as a team, and of course it had to be stationed in Texas. Steve was undercover as a french-canadian businessman looking to expand his ventures in some less than legal ways. And that less than legal way was Austin Hackney, small arms dealer, Houston native, and apparently color blind asshole who didn't understand fashion. The main objective of the mission was for Steve to charm himself into an invitation to peruse Hackney's warehouse and, upon receiving proof of his illegal dealings, arrest the man and seize the assets. Nicole on the other hand had infiltrated the wait staff for this party, her primary objective being to run anchor on this operation. She was the eyes in the sky, ear to the ground and everything in between; the anonymity provided by the uniform allowed her to slip into places unnoticed and pick up on whispered secrets.

She saw Steve sidle up to Hackney, only the slightest hesitation on his face before he introduced himself in rapid-fire french. The man grinned at that, reaching a hand out to pull the blond into a one armed hug, the kind that was oh so familiar amongst men and complete with the pat on the back. Nicole resisted the urge to roll her eyes at that, sweeping back out into the crowd with a slightly exaggerated swing of the hips. She was surprised, actually, at how smoothly everything was progressing considering the fact that it was Steve's first mission… and they were currently undercover. They'd both shown some trepidation when Phil had come to them with the file, but Nicole had to admit that Steve was playing the shady businessman quite well.

"Would you like some shrimp puffs?" She asked, spinning in between a pair of older men as they wrapped up a conversation. Were she in the mind set, after what she'd just overheard, it would only take a few whispered words to the right people to ruin both of their marriages.

Objective number two; get a private dinner with Patrick Abbott.

The man's suit was less of an eyesore than Hackney's, but not by much; it was a light shade of blue and complete with a copper and turquoise bolo tie. And of course considering the fact that they were in Texas, there were plenty of cowboy hats as well. Abbott was a rather tall gentleman, an inch above her in height with snowy white hair and an impressive moustache. Age had been kind to the man, though his figure spoke of years of fine dining and little in terms of exercise.

"They're straight from the kitchen! Fresh and delicious!" The redhead gave both men a wide smile, artificially long lashes fluttering in just the right way to be as appealing as possible. "And highly recommended."

"Well with an endorsement like that, how can I say no?" Abbott peered at her through a set of circular glasses, reaching out to snag one of the hors d'oeuvres. "A lady as pretty as you should be the one getting waited upon, not the other way around."

Nicole laughed at that, soft and breathy as she willed a slight suffusion of color to her cheeks. Spycraft 101; learn to blush on demand. "Oh that's so sweet of you! But you know how it is, gotta pay the bills somehow."

She could practically see the sympathy oozing from the man and, if it weren't for the fact that she was in a sleazy party filled with sleazy people trying to pass as sophisticated she might have felt bad about the fact that she was playing him. Instead the redhead fluttered her eyelashes just before pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

He was a hotel mogul that had gotten his start in a small town on the outskirts of Austin, by the name of Cedar Creek if she remembered correctly. Which she did, because it had been in her mission files and she'd needed to absorb as much information about Patrick Abbott as she possibly could.

Her artificially gray eyes widened in surprise, shock and awe filling them. "You're Pat Abbott aren't you? Owner of the Abbott Hills resort? Oh, shoot, I knew you looked familiar!"

Abbott shared a quick smirk with his companion, before stepping forward so that he was closer to her. "You sound like a fan."

Don't put your hand on my lower back, don't do it. I swear to - oh my God. She smiled back at him, shifting her position ever so slightly so that she was pushing back into his hand.

"Gosh, mister, you may not know it but I love your hotels. I stayed at one for my sister's wedding over in San Antonio, it was gorgeous. Plus I read all about you in Austin Monthly." She cooed, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just never thought I'd be meeting a real life celebrity here."

Steve's mission was to get into Hackney's warehouse, and while that was their main objective, Nicole had other things she needed to do as well. There was still the matter of figuring out exactly how extensive the leak in SHIELD security was in terms of information being dropped for the Ten Rings. And as nice as Mr. Abbott's hotels were at the moment, a rundown inn from an unincorporated town didn't exactly attract the masses. It was no surprise that the man had made his fortune in less than reputable ways, though the extent of his involvement was still unknown. Which was why she was letting him schmooze up against her right now.

If all went according to plan, by the end of the night Nicole would have information on the involvement of the Ten Rings in the states, and Steve would have neutralized a weapons dealer that had picked up some prototype weaponry that they shouldn't have access to. But that was if everything went according to plan and, with the season she'd been having so far Nicole was more than a little skeptical. Ideally they'd be wrapping up by the end of the night and would be back in New York by tomorrow morning. Which was good, because her proximity had earned her an invitation to Tony's Halloween party and she kind of wanted to go if only because the billionaire served top notch booze and was hilarious when he got drunk.

"Aw, darlin', you do an old man like me too much kindness." He purred, hand rubbing ever so slightly lower down her back.

Under normal circumstances, Nicole would have already broken his nose regardless of how old he was. As it was, however, her cheeks heated again with color and she let out a somewhat nervous giggle. "Why, a handsome fella like you? No more than forty!"

He was fifty seven.

"You're a sweetheart, Miss…?" He reached over to snag another shrimp puff.

"Drake," She answered hurriedly, a coy smile on her lips. "Nina Drake. And of course the whole state already knows who you are Mr. Abbott."

"Nina Drake," He laughed low, his hand ghosting over dangerous territory. "But I shouldn't keep you now, Ms. Drake. Unless… well, such kind flattery from such a beautiful woman, you must let me treat you to a private dinner. I simply won't take no for an answer."

Yeah, I bet you won't. Where's your wife, old man?

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, gray eyes glancing through the fake lashes in a slightly heated look at his face. There was no mistaking the lust in his eyes, or the way they were drawn down her long neck to her chest. The way her hair had been pulled up accented the length of her throat, and of course the caterer's uniform had been ordered a size too small to emphasize all of the right curves. God, seduction was so easy.

"A request like that? I wouldn't even dream of saying no. Where did you have in mind?" She murmured, setting down the platter as they wandered towards the outer fringe of the party, slightly secluded around the draping upholstery.

Abbott lifted the other hand to pull a card out of his pocket and offered it to her "I am staying in the Hotel Sorella, Room 1109. Come see me at seven."

So. Easy.

"I'll wear something nice for you." She promised, pressing her hand against his chest. "Something very nice."

Abbott grasped her chin in his hand, jerking it towards him slightly as she reached out to collect the card. "No later than seven, darlin'. I'll be very cross."

She allowed him to pull her in for a quick, sloppy kiss, resisting the base instinct to break his nose when he grabbed her ass.

"Seven." Nicole confirmed with a nip, before pulling back. "I should get back to work before someone notices I'm missing."

"I would hate to keep you." With a salacious wink Nicole slipped away, scooping up the tray before hurrying back into the crowd. She did a quick glance around the room, noticing that Hackney was in the middle of a conversation with a group of young, pretty socialites, and Steve was nowhere to be found.

"Did you get the invite?" She asked quietly, finger pressing against the comm device in her ear. "Shrimp puff?"

"Machining warehouse off of Enclave Parkway, in the Energy Corridor." Steve answered, voice pitched just as low. "I've got to be there at midnight."

"The witching hour eh?" As the redhead moved through the throng of party goers, she was all smiles. "That should work, I'm meeting Abbott for dinner at seven."

"Everything went smoothly then? Good." She caught sight of the blond coming in off of the veranda, a slight frown on his face. "The sooner we get this over with the better; I hate wearing suits."

"You could have let me run point on this, you know." She could have been an up and coming young businesswoman, taking the reins from her ill father's hands. More importantly she could have been wearing something a lot prettier than the caterer's uniform, and wouldn't have had to have put up with advances from old men. "Anyway, enjoy the party; we've only got a couple more hours left of this."

Steve didn't answer again, though he did brush past her to snatch one of the little appetizers. Nicole saw the annoyance on his face, and she had to bite back a laugh as she smiled politely up at him. She had no doubt that this was uncomfortable for her friend; undercover wasn't something that Captain America had a whole lot of experience with. In all honesty Nicole had been expecting Steve to turn down the operation - she wouldn't have been too broken up about it because she hated Texas - but after reading through the dossier he'd nodded his acquiesce. She'd offered to lead the mission because silent bodyguard was an easier role to play than venture capitalist, but he had surprised her again by taking point. In the long run it was a smarter decision; Nicole was playing a nobody right now, and that made it easier for her to fulfill her secondary objective than if she'd been in the spotlight.

Nina Drake the waitress was easier to forget than Nina Drake, the stunning, rich socialite.

And SHIELD was an information agency first and foremost; the more information she could gather about the people around her, the more beneficial it was to the United States government. Plus she really liked it when she got to sneak around and pretend to be someone else for a little while.

Nicole put the most friendly smile on her face as she could manage as she went back to offering the hors d'oeuvres, emptying the tray and going back to the kitchens for another. That was when she was warned off of Mr. Carlton and his crowd, as they were already well into the open bar and they got a little handsy. She bit her lip at that information, weighing her options. On the one hand, drunk people had a tendency to share more than usual… on the other hand, handsy people had a tendency to make her violent.

"Son of a bitch!" The redhead looked over at the loud exclamation, where the coordinator was tapping furiously on a tablet. "This can't be happening!"

"What's wrong?" She asked, setting down the platter of meatballs to place a light hand on the woman's shoulder.

"My damn bartender just left for an emergency and his replacement won't be in for another hour. The bar is empty and parties like this? When the alcohol dries up people get annoyed." It was a bad idea to get involved with this, everything she'd learned in training was telling her not to make a spectacle of herself, but Nicole couldn't help but smile.

"I'll cover until the replacement gets in." She offered, doing another once over of the area. "I've worked a bar before."

The coordinator looked at her skeptically for a moment, the gears turning in her head so fast Nicole could practically see the smoke. After a few seconds though, practicality seemed to outweigh any doubts because the coordinator nodded.

"Just… try not to mess anything up and stick to simple drinks and cocktails." Nicole would almost be insulted at that, if she weren't so busy.

Slipping behind the bar the redhead turned to the nearest customer, a middle aged woman wearing a stunning gold gown. "What can I get for you?"

"A Manhattan please, with two cherries." She smiled as she got to work, setting out the glass and gathering the rest of the ingredients.

Working at SHIELD gave employees - field operatives in particular - more than ample opportunities to broaden their horizons and pick up a new skill. It was invaluable to be flexible, because when on a mission a person could never know what all they would be doing. That was the main reason why she personally knew several languages, how to pick a lock, ballroom dancing and at least three different advanced basket weaving techniques. One of the first elective classes she'd taken in the academy had been bartending and drink mixology; it had been a fun activity and she'd wheedled Trip into taking it with her. Over the years she'd learned an expansive list of cocktails and their proper preparation, as well as more than a few flourishes.

As she stirred the Manhattan, Nicole threw a warm smile to the woman, ears perked as she listened to the conversation going on between a pair of men at the far end of the bar. It turned out there were more people invited to Hackney's private party than she'd been expecting. Nicole made a mental note of that, draining the drink into the glass.

"Here you go!" The woman gave her a small smile, handing over the payment before giving a few dollars in tip.

She did so love when she could actually turn a profit at work.

The next forty five minutes became a blur of alcohol, eavesdropped conversations and clumsy pick up lines before a familiar head of blond hair was settling in the seat in front of her. "What can I get'cha handsome?"

"Scotch on the rocks." Steve answered, the french accent perfect and the exasperation real.

"Coming right up." She threw him a wink, reaching up on the shelves. "You lookin' for a place to drown your woes, honey? I'd think a party like this would have your spirits up."

"Merci." Steve glanced up at her, amusement chasing the corners of his lips. "It's been a long day, I have to admit. A longer night too, by the looks of it."

"Ain't that the way of the world." She slid him the glass, propping her elbows on the bar as she watched him study it.

Steve looked down at the alcohol thoughtfully, lifting his gaze back up to her. "What's a girl like you doing in a dive like this?"

"Man did me wrong, I'm afraid." She answered with a shrug, her gaze turning sly. "Cheated me out of a fortune, truth be told. I could have been one of them," She gestured to a group of women dressed in diamonds and silk. "Carefree and beautiful. Now I'm here."

This time the smirk on his face - as fleeting as it was - was real. "Sounds like a bastard."

"Oui, a real asshole," She confirmed, grabbing the bottle and pouring a single shot of it. "But thems the breaks I guess. I've got my prospects though, gonna bag me a big fish."

"To life," He lifted his glass, "And making the best out of the shit we've got."

"C'est la vie."

Nicole clinked her shot glass against his, downing the liquid so fast she could barely register the burn in her throat before it was warming her stomach. Steve fished out a few bills, handing them to her in payment before he was drawn into another conversation. She watched her friend go, pursing her lips thoughtfully. This wasn't exactly what she'd pictured when she'd realized that they were going to go on missions either, and she genuinely hoped that this wasn't setting the precedence for what they'd be doing in the future.

IOI

"Alright, so I've got dinner and then I'll be heading straight to the warehouse to scope out the area." Nicole stepped out of the bathroom, thankful for the fact that she was in a pair of flat heeled ankle boots instead of the originally planned heels. "I'll be out of comm range, so if you need something you'll have to call me. You will be okay, right?"

It wasn't that she didn't think he could do his job… she just worried.

"I'll be fine," Steve answered, pushing a huff of air out of his nose as he tried to fix his cufflinks. "I just, ugh, hate this."

"It's not ideal." She swatted his hands out of the way, fingers deftly fixing the rumpled sleeve. "But we didn't have to take this."

Phil had given them complete freedom to take the mission or leave it; even he had known that it wasn't what they were best tailored to. But it was a two person run, and they were the best fit at the time; Romanoff and Barton had been sent to Bahrain, Bobbi was back to working on something top secret for Gonzales, and Klein was overlooking something at the Fridge. So Steve and Nicole had been the next best thing, and here they were.

"It's not going to be all like this is it?" He asked, offering his other arm and looking up at her. "That's, um, that's a rather short skirt."

Nicole choked on her laughter, fastening the other cufflink. "I don't think so, Steve. And I am supposed to be seducing someone, so a short skirt is in order. Why, too scandalous for you old man?"

The unamused glare that he levelled at her was all the answer she needed and Nicole dissolved into giggles. "You're hilarious. Just promise that you'll be careful."

"I'll be careful, don't worry. Dude is like, old, so I should be fine." Just to be careful she grabbed her coat and checked the pocket. "Plus I have this."

She held up a tube of lipstick, tossing it to him. Steve caught it easily, brows furrowing as his fingers rubbed against the gold ridges. "Sweet Dreams?"

"I would avoid skin contact if I were you." She warned, applying another base coat of a matching shade from a more modern cosmetic. "It's a sleep induced compound that will knock a regular person out if it touches their skin. Aunt Peg used it when she worked with the SSR, and when she started SHIELD."

His eyebrows lifted as he carefully replaced the tube. "Wouldn't it knock you out too?"

"The base coat of CoverGirl protects me. It's a tried and true method." The redhead promised, carefully adjusting the curls around her shoulders. "Ugh, shit, I've got to go."

It was already nearing a quarter 'til and she had to flag down a cab. Nicole paused to drag her gaze over Steve once more, collecting the sleeping agent from her friend and tucking it back into her jacket pocket. He was right though; Nicole was wearing a rather tight mini-skirt… it was probably for the best that he couldn't see the vest that she was wearing as well. She'd washed the uniform vest and squeezed herself back into it. Without the bra and undershirt though, it was a little more comfortable.

"You be careful too, Steve." She warned, mind unwillingly going back to last month. "I want both of us to be able to enjoy Halloween this year, okay?"

"I'll call you when I'm on my way." Nicole allowed herself to be pulled into a quick hug, clearing her throat as she stepped back to smooth out the imaginary wrinkles in his suit.

"Okay, I'm off to go grab a cab." She was comfortable in the skirt, actually, and shoved her hands in the light jacket as she made her way out of the hotel room. The elevator ride down to the lobby was jam packed with people, more than a few who were throwing appreciative glances at her long legs. Being tall came in handy sometimes; getting onto rides sooner than her friends, being able to reach the top shelves without too much effort, and of course having legs that didn't stop.

Also her pace was naturally larger, so she could cover more distance in a single bound which was incredibly helpful when running from gunmen.

Nicole enjoyed the kiss of warm air on her face as she stepped out of the main lobby, the streets all lit up as cars and cabs zoomed past. One of the things she loved about large cities like Houston was that cabs were a dime a dozen and they were always willing to stop for a pretty lady.

"Oh, taxi!" She called, lifting her hand and waving it towards the street, "Taxi!"

If her jacket 'accidentally' fluttered open to reveal a bit of skin, earning her a ride before the man that had definitely been waiting longer, well... such was the way of the world. Nicole knew that she had an attractive body, she had a toned physique and she hadn't been lying when she said her ass was fantastic. And while sexual appeal wasn't exactly her highest priority, the redhead knew how to use it to her advantage. Which was exactly what she had done to get her sliding into the leather seat.

"Where to, baby?" The driver asked back at her, twisting in the seat to drag his eyes over her figure.

"Hotel Sorella." She answered curtly. "Quickly, please, I have a date at seven."

"Sure thing." He grumbled, attitude doing a one-eighty. "Bitch."

Nicole quirked an eyebrow at that, lowering the burner phone slowly. Well, excuse her for not jumping right into his cab-driver fantasies. She flipped through her messages, most generated to make her look like a normal young woman. Some from mom, a few pictures from friends, and of course the running conversation she was having with her best friend Pippa.

To: Pippa

omw now lol. how pissed u think dad wld be if he found out?

Pippa was, of course, Phil. It was an easy and innocuous way for them to communicate in real time without raising too many questions.

From: Pippa

lmao he'd def kill u. omg tho i can't believe u rn! how old is this guy? 90?

She had to repress a laugh at that message; Phil Coulson talking in text lingo was more than a little hilarious. She took a screenshot of their conversation for later blackmail purposes, eyes lifting to gaze at the passing streetlights. This far into fall, the days were already starting to shorten and the light was low enough to merit the lamps overhead. Call her cliche but Nicole adored the fall season; everything was starting to cool down, the leaves were changing colors into a beautiful scheme, and of course Halloween was one of her favorite holidays.

To: Pippa

he's like 50, chill. and he's so rich! just got to the hotel, v swanky, i'll call you if all goes well. still on for fro-yo this sat?

The hotel was huge, with a pond out front and several flowerbeds filled with beautiful plants as well as lush green grass. The awe on her face as she stepped out of the cab, paying the driver with the tips she had made earlier, was not entirely faked. As much as she hated Texas, she may just be convinced to come back if it meant staying at a place as nice as this one.

From Pippa:

hell yea, fro-yo! have fun w/ your sugar daddy

The string of emojis that followed that message was almost as great as the mental image of Phil actually having to type the words sugar daddy in a sentence. Oh, she was definitely going to make fun of him for this on Saturday. There was nothing better than reducing her very professional SO to the use of the local vernacular, except, perhaps watching how into Super Nanny he got. The latter she only knew about because a few years ago she hadn't been able to go home for the holidays and Phil had offered up his place for thanksgiving. It had been her, Barton, Romanoff, Morrissey, Hill, Jones and of course Phil that holiday and they'd had a ball. She'd learned that Clint made a pretty damn good green bean casserole, and never to put Natasha in charge of making anything with alcohol because damn not everybody was Russian.

Nicole slipped into the lobby quietly, integrating herself within a group to ensure that she wasn't noticed by any of the men or women moving around from guest to guest in their well pressed uniforms. It wouldn't do for witnesses to place her in the area, and the sooner she passed out of sight the better. Not that it would make much of a difference she realized, considering the security cameras that riddled the halls, doorways and elevators. She kept her face downcast, hair blocking it from most angles and her back surreptitiously to the camera when she stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to take her to Abbott's floor.

The penthouse suites were on a floor all their own, the elevator opening up to a hall with beautifully intricate sconces that led to several gorgeous redwood doors. Taking a moment to admire the door itself and mentally prepare herself for what she was about to do, Nicole rapped her knuckles against the surface twice. She could hear the sound of footsteps on the other side, soft despite the heavy footfall, as though he wasn't wearing any shoes.

"Ms. Drake!" Abbott grinned, pulling the door open. "And not a minute late, I'm a little disappointed. I was so looking forward to your chastisement."

It didn't take a genius to catch his drift, and she barely resisted the urge to curl her lip at him.

"I can wait out here for a few more minutes, if you'd like." She offered instead, tilting her head just so as she glanced down at him. "We can pretend I never knocked."

Abbott licked his lips at that, sweat starting to pepper his brow as he stepped aside to let her in. "No, no, by all means come in. Let me take your coat."

As she stepped into the hotel room, Nicole noticed the small square dining table that was set for two. There was a bowl filled with salad, as well as a cart not too far away with several covered dishes that she assumed would make up the main meal.

"Oh, wow, it's beautiful." She breathed, letting her coat fall from her bare shoulders as she removed it, the tube of lipstick clenched in her hand. In the few seconds of distraction allotted as Abbott hung her coat up, she easily hid the cosmetic from sight.

"Yes, it is." Abbott agreed, though Nicole had a feeling that he wasn't referring to the luxury of the room. "Would you like to take a look around while I set up our meal?"

She allowed the man to press against her, clammy hand roaming along the swell of her hip, as she glanced around thoughtfully. This was nothing new for the field agent; she'd gone under cover before, had gone deep undercover, and had done… less than moral things to earn the confidence of a mark. Nothing she wasn't unwilling to do, of course, as shady as some of their missions were SHIELD was still one of the good guys and they didn't force her into anything she wasn't comfortable with. But there were only a few things that Nicole was uncomfortable doing, and seducing a mark was not one of them. It wasn't her favorite thing in the world, but it was something she was willing to do, which was one of the many things that made her a versatile agent. Of course, it wasn't like she was going to be expected to do anything more than kiss the man.

"Oh, may I?" It was easy making her voice sound fluttery and nervous, and it worked like a charm in getting the older man to drag his gaze away from her chest with an indulgent smile.

"I insist. Make yourself at home." He hung her coat near the door before going back to where the food was.

Nicole allowed herself to wander a bit, making her way out of the foyer area and towards the huge windows. She glanced down at the golden watch face, looped around her wrist by an almost delicate looking chain band. It had been only twenty minutes since she'd said goodbye to Steve in their hotel, and there was plenty of time until midnight when the deal would be going down at the warehouse, so she wasn't pressed for time. She still didn't know if that justified staying for dinner though, and the longer Abbott spent conscious in her company, the more time there was for something to go wrong.

Her next destination was through an open doorway, to where the master bedroom was. The bedroom itself boasted huge windows offering a view of the surrounding area, lit up and beckoning to the nightlife, as well as a huge, luxurious looking bed. No doubt the room where Mr. Abbott was hoping they would end their night. She slipped through the door into the adjoining bathroom, shutting it behind her quietly as her fingers dug out the tube of lipstick. Nicole remembered the story about the first time Aunt Peggy had used the lipstick, was reminded of it each time she used the chemical.

Advanced technology, tranquilizers that could be fired from a gun to knock a person out, and she still used super secret spy lipstick on people.

"Would you like some champagne my dear?" She glanced over as she was exiting the bathroom, to where Abbott was standing in the bedroom, two glasses in his hands.

"Sure." Nicole reached out to take the glass, inspecting the liquid before taking a very small sip. "It's very good."

"It's a vintage." He explained, lip curling up under his moustache as he smiled at her. "You haven't been snooping, I hope."

"Nothing personal, I assure you." She giggled. "This bedroom is amazing though, the view is spectacular."

Setting the glass down - she still hadn't regained the stomach for champagne - Nicole plopped herself down on the bed, crossing her legs so that the hem of her skirt rose up just enough. "And this bed is so comfortable! I don't know how you can stand to leave it."

It was a very comfortable bed, it felt like memory foam through the bedding but she couldn't be quite sure. Abbott grinned, a few steps carrying him so that he was standing right in front of her. Nicole tilted her head up to accommodate for the perspective difference, chest pushing out ever so slightly as her fingers played with the edge of her skirt.

"It took some effort, darlin'," He leaned over, hand on her thigh and face inches from her own. "But I had a compelling reason."

She bit her lip, coy and irresistible, and Abbott pounced. Well, actual pouncing wasn't involved, but he slammed his lips against hers roughly, demanding, and Nicole forced herself to be pliant as the chemical did it's work. The redhead reached out to grab the champagne glass from his hand before it fell to the ground, catching the dead weight that slumped against her with a grunt. He had to be easily as heavy as Steve, though without nearly as much of the muscle, and the sudden drop against her pushed the woman back ever so slightly.

"Good God." She grunted, sliding out from beneath Abbott and letting him slump onto the bed. Which was, in fact, very comfortable. "Okay, time to go to work."

The laptop was back in the foyer, a small circular table in one corner near the window that acted as a desk. The redhead first went to her coat, pulling it off of the hook and switching the lipstick for her cellphone. One thing that Nicole would always find mind bogglingly amusing was the amount of people who carried laptops without password protection. She supposed that most people didn't have to worry about high level SHIELD agents seducing them to steal their information but… still.

"Do you want the entire hard drive?" She asked, not bothering with greetings when Phil answered the phone. "Because there is a lot of porn on this thing."

"Yes, the entire hard drive." Phil replied dryly. "I assume everything's going well on your end?"

"Peachy." She inserted the SHIELD issued backup drive, fingernails tacking over the keys. "Oh my, Mr. Abbott has quite the search history. As it happens, he knows absolutely nothing about the inner workings of the female body, and should probably see a doctor about his gastrointestinal problems."

There was a smothered cough on the other end, no doubt Coulson trying to mask his laughter. "That may be a little beyond the scope of the mission."

Nicole watched as the contents of Abbott's laptop was copied to the small SHIELD drive, fingers drumming against the edge of the table while she waited. "You did tell me to have fun with my sugar daddy, so…"

"I'm not living that one down am I?" Coulson sighed.

That earned a laugh from the agent. "Not on your life boss. I'm almost done here."

"Vehicle will be waiting with your gear in it. The hard part is over, now all you have to do is beat some people up." Ejecting the drive and sliding it safely back into the pocket of her coat, Nicole took the time to shutdown the laptop and make sure that Abbott would never suspect what had happened before climbing to her feet.

"Thank God, this shirt is so tight I can barely breathe." Her tactical suit was much more comfortable, and flexible.

"Don't forget to program your comm device to the new frequency." Coulson warned. "Check in when you arrive, and when you get into position."

"Yes mom." She stretched out her spine, weaving around the sofa as she slipped her coat back on. "I'll make sure to be home in time for dinner."

"You're hilarious." The line cut dead at that, leaving the agent with a smirk on her face as she inspected the dinner that she could have been having.

"Aw man, steak." She sighed in disappointment, lifting another silver lid to display two individual dishes of whipped mousse. "Well hello there, chocolate, don't mind if I do."

By the time Nicole reached the lobby, the dish was empty and discarded neatly in one of the potted plants as she made her exit. It was as inconspicuous leaving as it had been coming in, and she kept walking until a valet blocked her path with a set of keys.

"Your vehicle, ma'am." She glanced over his shoulder at the black SUV waiting, hand reaching out for the key fob.

"Thank you." Slipping the kid a twenty - she did have appearances to keep up - Nicole hurried to the vehicle. A quick glance in the back revealed a large duffle, one that she knew held her suit, as well as a longer, more narrow one. And she knew that, since it was a SHIELD vehicle, the bottom would open up to show more weapons, and Steve's shield. It had been repainted all black to be less… Captain America-y. Steve hadn't been entirely thrilled by the paint job at first but had come to understand the necessity of it.

She slid into the driver's seat, bringing up the coordinates of the warehouse on the GPS as she hit the ignition switch. The drive was short; the hotel was right on the highway and traffic was minimal. Twenty minutes later when she located the warehouse - just past the water treatment plant - Nicole gave a quick glance around. There didn't appear to be a lot of vehicles parked there, judging by the expansive and empty lot, but she drove a little further down until she found a disused road lined by trees. A quick glance around confirmed that she was, in fact, alone as the redhead opened the back hatch. Sliding the bag over to her, she unzipped the main compartment.

One-piece catsuit, thermal resistance to temperatures of 4,000 degrees fahrenheit and kevlar reinforced paneling to protect from most gunshots and knife wounds, black tailored in muted bronze and dark red with the SHIELD logo on the right shoulder. That went on first, the top bunching around her hips as she pulled the pants on under her skirt before peeling it off. Using the SUV as cover she discarded the tight vest, sliding her arms through the sleeves and zipping the uniform up to her chin. Tactical boots, thick soled and flexible, rounded toe with a slight heel, calf length with a knife hidden in the left one. She slipped those on over a pair of socks, checking the ease of access of her knife before she went through the rest of the items in the bag. A black high necked kevlar vest, belt and attached gun holsters across her hips, bandolier for her throwing knives, and spare ammo packs.

She grabbed the comm device, making sure the frequency was set properly before sticking it into her ear. There was also a set of rose tinted glasses, a large nodule in the upper corner of the right lens, that Nicole slid on. They were programmed with a small computer that would allow her to adjust the ocular display to night vision, infrared, whatever she needed, as well as providing a feed back to Coulson. The tinting of the lenses didn't exactly have a huge impact on the technology, she just really liked the reddish color. The weapons themselves were in the under storage, and Nicole holstered everything in it's rightful place before she grabbed the shield and the long case. Reaching up with her free hand the redhead pressed her finger against the comm device.

"This is the Sentinel checking in on comms." She murmured, feet falling silently on the ground as she made her way down towards the warehouse. There was time, oh was there time, before even the most eager of Hackney's guests would be arriving. Nicole had moved quickly through Abbott's things, taking less than forty-five minutes after arriving at the hotel to dig up every personal secret the man had.

Even with the drive, and changing, she still had three and a half hours before midnight. It gave her time, time to look around and make sure there would be no nasty surprises waiting for her or Steve tonight. Nicole hated Texas as a general rule, and it was more than just the climate or political issues; she didn't have good experiences in the state. She did, however, have the souvenir scar from when she'd been been sliced in the hip from the last time she'd visited, and the off-angled middle finger from when she'd gotten it slammed in a door back in San Antonio.

"Copy that Sentinel." Coulson answered coolly, "What can you see?"

"Well," She drawled in a half-whisper, "I can see clearly now, the rain is gone."

"Hilarious." Phil deadpanned.

"Nothing so far, I'm not close enough." Came the honest answer as she picked her way through the trees and underbrush that surrounded the area. "I'm finding a vantage point."

That vantage point came in the form of a tall, gangly branched pecan tree with limbs that tangled and pressed against others in the crown of the small patch of forest. It wasn't too far from the warehouse, and it offered a good view of the parking lot as well as two different entrances. Nicole glanced up at the lowest branch - easily within reach thanks to her height - chewing her lip thoughtfully. The agent double checked the security of the shield on her arm, switching her hold from the handle of the gun case to the long shoulder strap so that it was better positioned on her body, as she bounced on the heels of her feet.

Nicole reached up, swinging her body against the trunk and kicking her feet against it to provide better climbing purchase as she hoisted herself up. It had certainly been awhile since she'd last climbed a tree, and the rough bark scraped against her palms as she positioned herself on the thick branch. From there it was an easy matter of climbing up higher, getting a better angle as she switched the glasses to night vision.

"I'm not seeing anything from this side." She answered after a few minutes, settling down on a branch as comfortably as she could. "I'll case the joint for a few more minutes before doing a perimeter check."

What looked like the main entrance wasn't necessarily going to be the entrance that everyone used. Nicole leaned forward slightly, hands braced on her knees as she squinted at the doorway. It was a quiet night, a little too quiet for her liking, and with the occasional sweep of bats around the light posts, there was no movement that she could see. Which made her very concerned; from personal experience weapons warehouses weren't typically abandoned. Especially when there would be visitors soon.

She must have sat there for ten minutes, long enough for the pressure of the branch against her body to cut off some of the circulation before calling it. Nicole left the shield and the rifle in the tree as she dropped down - the odds of someone coming out and finding it in the next twenty minutes were slim - jogging around the tree line until she found herself on the other end of the building.

"Oh look, I found them." She could see a couple of armed guards on the roof, as well as a blurry outline of someone standing near the window inside. "Two on the roof, at least one indoors. It'll be tricky getting in."

"But you can do it?" The redhead rolled her eyes at that question, continuing her slow orbit around the building.

"Tricky, Coulson. Not impossible." It was simply a matter of timing; she needed to get in close to midnight, too early ran the risk of running into guards and being found out, too late ran the risk of a gunfight that she wasn't there for.

The guards were the main problem though; she'd need to take some out, but she would have to be able to do it without immediately alerting Hackney to her presence. Then there was the consideration of finding a good place to set up shop and… very tricky.

"Looks like I found the back entrance." At least, if the armed individuals entering in and out were anything to go by. "Not too far from my tree."

She could make the run in under a minute at least, which was good considering that her window was ten. A quick distraction was all she would need to slip in through the door - it wasn't locked but probably guarded on the other side - and get her ass up high where she could be of some use. Deal with a few of the guards, quickly and non-lethally thanks to the tranquilizer ammo loaded into her weapons, and sit back to watch the deal going down. She had the shield in case Steve ended up needing it, which he very well may, so Nicole needed to make sure she was within suitable throwing range. She'd practiced tossing the vibranium disc around a few times, but she was definitely not as good with it as Steve.

"Alright, satellite surveillance doesn't show anyone heading your way yet, so get back to cover and hang out. We've got eyes on you." Coulson informed her.

"Yes mom." Everything was exactly where she'd left it when she returned to the tree, and Nicole took the time to make herself comfortable as she settled in for the wait.

And wait.

And wait.

She had forgotten how absolutely boring stakeouts were, and by the time midnight had finally rolled around she was starting to regret not staying for dinner. The redhead swung her legs over the edge of the branch, tapping her fingers in a random pattern against the surface of the shield as she checked her watch.

"You're humming." Steve's voice in her ear startled her, making the agent jerk up and rub at her eyes under the glasses.

"Huh?" She fought back a yawn, pressing her hand into her mouth.

"You're humming." He offered again, "You do that when you're bored."

"I've been sitting in this tree for the past three hours, not exactly exciting." She noted, stretching her spine as she slung the rifle case over her shoulder again and pulled the shield onto her lap. "How far out are you?"

"Pulling onto Enclave now. Hackney left about ten minutes after me." She looked down at her watch, setting the timer on it before scrambling up to rest on her haunches.

This was one of the things she loved about her job; the adrenaline rush she got from successfully pulling off an infiltration, the absolute ease of incapacitating her opposition… yeah, she was glad that she'd become a field agent.

"Nervous?" The redhead asked, stamping down the jittery feeling in her stomach.

"Been awhile since I've seen any action." Steve answered, "A little."

Her lips lifted into a lazy smile, fingers tensing against the bark. Cars were starting to filter in, men in black suits stepping out crisply to open the doors for more men - a couple of women - dressed just as finely, but more colorfully. "Just don't announce to the world that you're with SHIELD and we should be fine."

"Promises, promises, Dugan." Steve snorted, and Nicole saw the car pulling in. Steve didn't have a bodyguard of his own, but she knew that he was armed.

"Alright Nicole," Coulson cut in. "Get ready in three… two… go now."

Nicole hit the ground running - literally - her long legs carrying her across the corner of the warehouse. The door was cracked open and she pushed inside, coming face to face - more like nose to forehead - with a rather startled looking armed guard.

"Who the fuck are you?" He snarled, aiming a handgun at her.

She offered a sheepish smile. "Would you believe candy-gram? No? Shame."

Before the guard could pull the trigger, she slammed the shield into his face. It connected with his face with a rather loud crunch, reverberating against the metal expanse before the man dropped. Another turned to face her, weapon rising sluggishly in surprise but she was already in motion. Her gait brought her beside him in a matter of seconds, and from there it was child's play. She didn't intend on using a gun unless absolutely necessary; they had a tendency to make noise and attract unwanted attention. It was all about subtlety at this point.

She took the time to properly hide the bodies; sloppy field work to just let them stumble out after regaining consciousness to blow her cover. Making sure they were properly bound and concealed she was off again, dashing down a narrow hallway before coming out into the main room of the warehouse. There were shelves and crates stacked from floor to ceiling, tops just barely brushing against grated overhead walkways.

Nicole pressed herself into the shadows, creeping behind a stack of crates as her eyes scanned the area around her. There were several acceptable places, and only a handful of guards patrolling the upper walkways. Most of them were hanging around, scattering around the nooks and crannies of the warehouse.

"Hackney's off the highway." Coulson warned. "Get into position."

"Roger that." She snickered slightly, dashing over to a stairwell. There was only one person in between her and her chosen corner, and he was taken care of easily. From there it was a matter of setting the shield nearby and readying the rifle. She steadied it on the crates she had opted to hide behind, inching forward to sight through the scope.

"Sentinel is in position." She whispered. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Austin." Steve greeted, his voice jovial.

"You found the place easily enough, then?" Hackney asked, hushed and attentive.

"Rather easy, though I almost missed the turnoff. Not a well advertised place, though that doesn't come as much of a surprise." They were making small talk - Nicole loved making small talk - and she could hear the background noise of the others chatting.

"Do you think he likes you?" She mused, "I think he likes you. I'm just not sure if it's 'friendship bracelets' likes you or 'wants to kiss your face' likes you."

"Trust me," Steve answered. "The man does not want to make me a friendship bracelet."

Nicole didn't answer, sucking in a breath of air to smother her laughter as the door opened to reveal people filing into the warehouse. They were all paired off into little cliques, and she noticed her partner still chatting with Hackney; Steve had his hands in his pockets and the other man was standing very close, one hand resting just above the small of his back as his attention was turned to Mr. Carlton, who looked to have sobered up relatively quickly.

"Both Carlton and the brunet with the glasses and pinstripe suit have a gun." She noted, pulling away from the scope to adjust the view on her glasses. "The woman in the blue Vera Wang has a small pistol on her thigh, also that hair pin could probably be used to kill someone."

Her eyes flicked to the bodyguards, and then the guards that were still pacing the floors. "Assume everyone in a black suit has a gun, though if it comes to a fire-fight their main priority will be getting their employers out. We only want Hackney."

"Correct." Coulson confirmed. "Hackney's the basis of this operation, everyone else is collateral that want to make it big."

There was a pause. "Not collateral, but you know what I mean."

"Red dress has a knife, and glitter-ass has to be packing." She tacked on, leaning back on her haunches. "Ugly orange tie's probably going to have a heart attack if a fight breaks out. Other than that, I'm nearby and I've got your back."

Steve looked up at that, blue eyes scanning the upper walkways. He didn't see her, but that was kind of the plan, so he didn't seem too troubled by it. If he was - and just a very good actor - there wasn't time to stew on it because Hackney had put himself in the center of the open area, a charming smile on his face.

Nicole wanted to slap it.

"Welcome to the after party, ladies and gentlemen." He purred, "Of course you all know that each and every one of you received a very elite invitation to join me tonight."

There was a wave of murmurs and smiles at that , a few people tilting up glasses. Hackney's lips pulled back wider at that, the man casually resting his hand on one of the many crates. "I know it's very late, and I'm sure we all have other activities we'd like to get to tonight, so I'll keep this short."

"We live in interesting times, my friends, and the face of personal security is changing. How can we, as citizens of the earth, be expected to protect ourselves from men in metal suits and machines of destruction falling from the sky? Well, I think I have the answer." His fingers deftly undid the latches on one of the crates. "I have friends, friends in high places that want to make sure we can defend ourselves. For the right price of course."

There was a curious murmur as Hackney pushed the lid off, revealing the weapons and while Nicole couldn't see them from her angle, she could see Steve and he had gone bone white. His lips were pressed into a thin, hard line for all of two seconds before he forced his features to relax. The tension was still in his frame, high strung and ready to strike, and his eyes were like chips of ice.

"What is this?" Carlton chuckled, "I thought we were getting weapons, not antiques."

"Niall," Hackney chided. "I understand your confusion, but you have to keep in mind; HYDRA utilized a unique energy source, making their weaponry much more effective than almost anything we have today. These are prototypes, based off of old designs and utilizing that same energy source."

"Coulson…" She hissed, stomach clenching in dread. "Tell me that box isn't filled with what I think it is."

"Stolen technology from the Fridge. You didn't think we were sending you on a level one op, did you?" Their handler confirmed. "HYDRA weapons."

"How did you get these?" Steve asked, carefully composed and still in character. "I imagine you didn't just find 'em lying around somewhere."

"He's right." Glitter-ass sniffed. "SHIELD isn't one to part with their toys lightly."

"I have made friends, friends in high places. Have you heard of the Ten Rings? They are very interested in making sure SHIELD's enemies become good friends." The dread was clawing up her throat, tasting surprisingly of bile.

"We've got all the evidence we need. Take him out." Coulson ordered, using his full Agent voice.

"So you're working with a terrorist organization." Nicole lifted her sights, lining up with one of the guards along the walkway.

"That's a rather narrow-minded way of looking at it, Eleanor." Hackney shrugged. "I'm ensuring the security of our ventures."

The entire warehouse broke out in argument, which was exactly what she was hoping for. Shouting socialites made an excellent mask for the sound of gunshots, even gunshots fired from near silent rifles. Adjusting her sites, Nicole narrowed in on the guard, lips pursing. There was no need to kill them - though she was sure in a few minutes they wouldn't be as considerate - so she dropped just half an inch to the shoulder, tranquilizing rounds at the ready. In, out, deep breaths while the world falls to white noise. Finger on the trigger, inhale deeply, pull, recoil, exhale.

"Scoped and dropped." She murmured to herself, lips lifting as the guard fell. She found the next one, suspicious and on his way to investigate. Finger on the trigger, inhale deeply, pull, recoil, exhale. "Two down."

If Barton was here, he could probably have dropped the rest of the guards before anyone had been the wiser. Nicole was a decent sniper, sure, but she wasn't Hawkeye; by the time she'd began moving her attention down to the ground floor people started wising up.

It was Vera Wang that sounded the alarm too; she'd been standing right under the grated walkway when Nicole dropped the last guard and - true to movie cliche - had noticed when the first drop of blood hit her bare shoulder.

Move, lady, that dress is too nice. The redhead thought, a small breath of relief out of her mouth when in fact the woman did move.

Short lived relief when she looked up in confusion. And then horror. And then she was opening her mouth and shit could that woman scream.

"Think they may have caught on to me." Nicole noticed, pulling her weapon back and placing it gently in the case.

"This was a set-up!" Glasses hissed, pulling his gun out. "Should have known better than to trust you, Hackney."

And then a whole new type of chaos broke out in the warehouse; there was gunfire and yelling as everyone and their uncle decided to get the hell out of dodge. And Steve, being the Steve that he was, was using the confusion to his advantage. The blond rushed forward, leaping over the crate of HYDRA weapons to intercept Hackney.

"I don't think so." Hackney's eyes widened, and his hands fumbled in his jacket to pull out a gun. "You're under arrest."

"F-Fuck!" His hand shook slightly, face blanched in fear, and Nicole was moving before her brain fully registered what was happening.

"Incoming!" She scooped up the shield, body spinning as she swung her arm around to throw it. The intent had been to hit Hackney before he fired, knocking the gun out of his hand and providing enough of a distraction that Steve could incapacitate the man. Everyone else was beating a hasty retreat, even as more guards moved in.

As it was, the shield bounced off of a pillar, crashing into a crate and sending it to the ground in a huge clatter. It certainly made the man jump, head whipping to the side at the sudden noise. Steve used it to his advantage, ducking down under the gun just as it fired, before popping up with a well placed jab to disarm Hackney. Her partner moved like a blur, pinning his arms behind his back before knocking him out; Hackney was slumped behind cover by the time Nicole dropped down from the upper level.

"Your aim is terrible." Steve noted, diving under a flurry of bullets in search of his shield.

"So is your fashion sense." She shot back, before actually shooting back because bullet holes weren't fun and she was not getting another one in Texas of all places. It was less likely to happen now that she was actually in uniform, but better safe than sorry blah blah blah.

"Coulson," She ducked down into cover, before dropping a few more guards. "Looks like the collateral has scattered. You can send in that clean up crew."

"Extraction is on it's way. We'll do the debrief in the quinjet." Steve sent the metal shield flying, pinballing into three different people and knocking them all flat on their faces.

She squinted at the way he spun upon recovery, twisting just in time to slam it into the face of a suit that was trying to creep up behind him. He was a fucking ballerina, and this was not acceptable.

"Fucking horseshit is what it is." She muttered to herself, flushing when he turned a curious look at her because, right, comms were still a thing.

"SHIELD is on it's way." It was time to collect the weapons. Didn't want anyone waking up to try and kill them again. "And then we get to go home."

The blond nodded at that, reaching up to pull at the collar of his shirt. "Thank goodness, I hate suits."