Strange Bedfellows

It was maybe a week after that, after the whole mess in South America and her getting suspended and put on desk duty, that Annie came home to find Coulson, sitting in her living room.

"Most people call before showing up." She said, stalking past him to the kitchen.

"I'm not most people." Coulson shrugged.

"Clearly. How'd you like being dead?" Annie grabbed two beers and tossed one to Coulson.

"Honestly, I don't remember much of it. I gather that was rather the point." Coulson caught the beer but did not open it. "Generally, being dead doesn't involve a lot of action."

"Speak for yourself." Annie grinned. "I got a LOT done while I was dead."

Coulson's brow furrowed. "Admittedly I'm guessing here, but I'm pretty sure our deaths were wildly different." He arched an eyebrow at her as she sat down. "Seriously, don't you have any other questions?"

"Only one that you're likely to answer." Annie answered. "What-exactly-are you up to with SHIELD? Aren't you guys dissolved?"

Coulson leaned back and smiled. "I never did explain that, did I." He mused. For a moment he considered, as if gathering his thoughts. "SHIELD is dissolved." He said at last. "SHIELD as it was, anyway. But there are those of us who-no offense-feel that we can better serve world peace outside of senate commissary hearings."

"Saw that on the news." Carter rolled her eyes. "'Yes, I just destroyed a federal agency, but because of that, you're helpless before me, so you can't prosecute for completely destroying a federal agency.'"

Coulson winced. "Agent Romanov has a... direct manner." He admitted. "The rest of us are a bit more circumspect. SHIELD served a legitimate purpose, once. We're trying to get it back on tracks."

A slow smile crept over Annie's face. "Agents without an agency."

"With a self-made agency." Coulson corrected. "SHIELD still exists, it's just... not a governmental organization anymore, more like a... really cool club with awesome agents and really slick toys."

"Sounds like fun."

"It is." Coulson shrugged. "By the way, how's agent Carter?"

"On your side, so far as I can tell. Whether or not the both of you are Hydra remains to be seen." Annie shrugged.

"Really? I thought you said you trusted her."

Annie glanced at him sharply. "And how did you know that?"

Coulson shrugged and smiled.

Shaking her head, Annie downed her own beer. "There was nothing to be gained from keeping her an enemy. Better to make her think she's fooled me. Might let her guard down. Or might turn out to be genuinely honest." Annie shrugged. "Who knows. Going on instincts, I trust her, but instincts don't make good security clearances."

"And what do your instincts say about me?" Coulson raised his eyebrows.

Annie looked at him. "You're friendly enough. And you seem very genuine. And I can't deny you've been a useful asset."

"None of those sound very instinctive." Coulson pointed out.

A roll of the eyes. "Fine. Then my instincts say you're to be trusted."

A grin crept up Coulson's face. "Sure you're not just saying that because there's nothing to be gained from keeping me an enemy?"

Annie gave a sweet smile in return. "If you're not going to believe what I say, why did you even ask?" She sipped her beer. "Besides, my instincts say McQuaid's a decent guy too, and I gathered you don't like him."

"McQuaid himself might be decent, I don't know." Coulson shrugged. "His company, though... they're up to something."

"According to the Agency, you're up to something." Annie pointed out.

"Fair enough." Coulson smiled. "In any case, I think we've proven that we're a useful resource, and that our help thus far has been... useful."

"Useful, sure. But I try not to lean too hard on my outside sources." Annie gave him a tight grin. "Just tends to be unwise. I'm glad to have you guys as a backup, but don't expect any favors from me. For all intents and purposes, I'm still a girl for the Agency."

"But the Agency's cut you out," pressed Coulson, leaning forward. "Are you sure you wouldn't want an agency in your corner, so long as you're sidelined?"

"I'm not sidelined." Annie raised a hand. "Just out of the field. I'm still involved, just..." she kicked at the end table, "...bored to tears."

"Can't help with the boredom, I'm afraid." Coulson shook his head. "Well, I mean, if you're REALLY bored you could always steal information from the CIA for me, but I feel you might object to that."

"Don't you get info from the CIA already?"

"Just one of the SHIELD hunters the Agency is always siccing on us. Old friend of mine. Keeps me up to date on who the good agents and who the bad agents are." Coulson glanced at the pictures on the wall.

"Oh really? And which am I?"

"Good." Coulson blinked and amended that, "As in, capable-good, not friendly-to-SHIELD-good. And by the way, it's not just him saying that, that's a pretty well-known fact across the intelligence community."

"That's not good." Annie frowned. "Being well-known is something you try to avoid in this sort of job. Tends to lead to an early retirement plan."

Coulson looked at her significantly. "You plan to retire?"

Annie stopped and looked at him. It was a simple enough question, but they both knew it had a hugely complex answer. Spies didn't retire. At best, they led a watchful life constantly glancing over their shoulder at an invisible job in some anonymous town, or else devoted their declining years to administering the missions they could no longer run, like Joan and Arthur. At worst, they ended in a jail cell or face down in a Viennese gutter.

But Annie smiled and gave a careless shrug. "Too young to plan for retirement yet." She answered lightly. "Some wild ideas here and there..." she bit back a thought about a suggestion Auggie had once made about a Carribean island, "...but nothing concrete yet." Apart from the fake passports and illegal firearm stashed in her safe at home.

Coulson nodded as if he believed her. "Take it from someone who's been around the spy game longer than you have." His gentle smile robbed the words of any patronization. "Generally, spy stories end with the hero-slash-heroine on the run from their own agency, until they fake their death so they can live the rest of their days in some anonymous far-off locale."

"Did that already." Annie nodded. "Came back from it."

"But some day you might not want to." Coulson suggested. "Some day you might find that you have no reason to go back—or more likely—that your friends are better off believing you're dead."

"Where I absorb the blame for something and 'take one for the company?'" Annie gave an odd smile. "It seems unlikely, but... I can think of worse endings. But why should it make a difference to you?"

Coulson shrugged, standing. "Well, if you 'died' and for some reason still wanted to stay in the spy game... though I'm sure you'd have no lack of opportunities—any foreign intelligence agency would jump to obtain someone with your connections—I guess I'd just... like to add SHIELD to the list of potential employers."

"Really?" Annie wrinkled her nose. "A down-and-out spy agency without funding and with dubious ties to a Nazi conspiracy? What possible reason would I have for joining?"

Coulson smiled. "Well, we wouldn't be in direct competition with the CIA, for one. We'd still be serving America's security, if not exclusively. Smaller probability of having to shoot one of your old friends. And then there's the fact that you now know the new director."

Annie looked at him, uncomprehending at first, before a flash of understanding lit up her face.

Coulson moved toward the door. "Keep it in mind. Work with Agent Carter, get to know her and what SHIELD used to be, keep tabs on us and see what we're building SHIELD into. And if you decide you want to be a part of shaping that... give us a call."

"I'll keep you in my contacts." Annie smiled. "Anything further?"

"Just one." Coulson paused in the doorway and looked at her with something akin to concern. "Do your friends know about your... condition?"

Annie's head snapped up. She should have guessed, really. After all, Coulson had clearly been tracking her during her unofficial sabbatical. Of course he would know about the doctor visits, about the diagnosis.

The fact that he wasn't using that to blackmail her was actually a strong point in his favor.

Slowly, Annie's head sank back down, and she stared at the glass in her hand. "You know I haven't told them." She answered. "They'd just take it the wrong way."

"Give them a try." Coulson suggested. "They're spies, after all—death is one of the nicer things they deal with. And trust me, the last thing you want is to be dying slumped against a bulkhead while you think of all the things you never said."

"You would know." Annie smiled wanly.

"I also know about recovering from death-like conditions." Coulson's face was grave. "We have some of the best doctors in the world and specialized equipment that no other organization has. If you came to us... we might be able to offer treatment. No promises, but no strings attached either."

Annie said nothing for a long moment. She shot occasional glances at Coulson's face and studied the tips of her fingers. Finally, slowly, she shook her head.

"Yeah, that's what I figured." Coulson gave a weary smile. "Still, if you change your mind..."

"...I'll call you." Annie waved. "See you later, Phil."