A/N: I HAVE RETURNED BWAHAHAHAHA! Kinda... Ok, not really. Some plot bunnies came sniffing around my garden after I saw the trailer for Jessica Jones and I was so happy at discovering that the extermination of my garden wasn't permanent that I wrote this! I have NOOOO IDEA where this is going. But I'm actually really excited! So hopefully I'll be able to continue this. I'd really like to see where it's going to lead me (Because, let's face it, I never plan anything.) Updates will be sporadic because I'm actually supposed to be doing school (Should get back to that after I finish this...) and I'm thinking instead of just churning out chapters I'll hold onto them a while and edit and stuff so they're better quality. If nothing else, I hope my writing has improved from all the essays and study questions and rhetoric and old books and Latin and blah I'm talking about school again. ENOUGH OF BORING YOU! Oh, real quick, to any of you who have read/are reading some of my other fics and have actually gotten this far in the exceedingly long paragraph that is this author's note, I plan to update those as soon as I can, should be some time in May after I graduate (SQUEEEE! I'm almost free!) Okay, NOW onto the story. ENJOY!
"My name is X. I'm seventeen." The ball bounced off the wall, ricocheting back towards me.
"I was kidnapped as a baby. I was experimented on. I was injected with a serum that gave me powers beyond what any human should have." I punctuated each sentence with the "bap"s made by the ball hitting the wall. I could feel the anger building up inside me as the memories bubbled up, the noise the ball made as it contacted with the wall was harder, stronger as I tried to kill the memories with the rubber object.
"I was lied to." Bap!
"I was hurt." Bap!
"I was tortured." Bap!
"I escaped." Bap. The sound decreased as I remembered what the feeling of being free had felt like, breaking out of my prison that cold December night.
"I found my family." Bap. I was home for Christmas. There was no way to describe what that felt like, my first Christmas, with a family I had dreamed of for years.
"They found me." Bap! The sound increased, coming faster and louder than before as I tried to forget the terror of seeing the agents in the snow, waiting for me.
"They killed my family." BAP! I tried to block out my mother's screams of terror, the yells of pain from my brothers and father, the smell of blood, fire and gunpowder.
"So I killed them!" A crunch sounded as the ball embedded itself in the wall. I stood, trying not to shake as the vision of bodies on the floor in pools of blood, the red stuff covering my hands, dripping off the gun and the knife in my hands, filled my mind. It only took a few seconds to compose myself and when I was done I turned around, facing the terror stricken faces of my fellow anger management attendees and the dude in charge of the meeting.
"And now I'm here," I said to the silence. I could see the man in charge trying to recover himself. He was working his jaw, seeming to have trouble choking out the words he should be saying in this situation. Thankfully, right as he seemed to figure out how to say what he wanted to say, I felt my phone buzz against my ass. I reached in and pulled it out, not bothering to check caller ID. The people I worked for always got around it.
"Talk," I said, my usual way of answering a phone.
"I would like to purchase your services." the voice on the other end said. I rolled my eyes.
"Let me guess. You wanna know what your wife is doing," I said.
"Your skills are not exaggerated," the man replied, obviously pleased I was as good as they said.
"If they were, I'd be dead. Email me her name, contact information, a picture and possible places she's going. I'll need the same information about you. I charge at the end. You cover expenses," I said, before hanging up. I didn't do small talk.
I turned to the still frozen people in front of me. "If you'll excuse me, I have places to be." I turned on my combat boot heel and began to walk to the door, zipping up my hoodie in anticipation for the cold.
"But the session isn't over!" the man in charge finally managed to call out in a horrified tone. I raised a middle finger for him to see before I plunged out into the cold. The wind hit me like a blast of ice in the face but I kept going. It wasn't nearly as cold as Russia and God knows I had spent enough winters there, doing shit in the cold, to build up a tolerance.
A beep sounded. I pulled out my phone to look over the information the nosy husband had sent me. The woman was pretty, much younger than her husband, who was noticeably older and had a cruel tilt to his face. Obviously, she was having an affair, but with a husband like that, who could blame her? He probably beat her.
Not my problem, I thought. Unless she's willing to pay. I shoved my phone back into my pocket and pulled up the hood of my hoodie, shoving my hands in my pocket.
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"You didn't catch them?" the man's voice growled. I had just informed him his wife had skipped town with her lover, neglecting to mention the huge stack of cash she had given me to keep quiet about where they were going.
"You told me to find out what she was doing, not stop it. Stopping it would require that you pay me more." I was getting tired of the man on the line. I wouldn't have even taken the damn case except 1) it got me out of anger management and 2) I needed the cash. "Now wire that cash or we're going to have a problem," I said.
The man growled. "You're threatening me?" he asked. The tone he took was obviously one he was easy with, telling me that he was on comfortable ground with people threatening him. Time to make him uncomfortable, I thought.
"That depends, Mr. Rossini," I said, my subzero like the Russian winters I used to endure. "Are you going to put that tumbler of 1880 brandy on the table to your left, get your ass out of your one hundred year old Italian armchair, in your Tuscan villa and wire me my money, or are you going to try to play the tough guy?"
I could hear him put the glass on the side table. "How did you know all that?" he asked.
"You're not a very trustworthy man Mr. Rossini. I take my precautions. Which is why if you don't hand me the money, not only is it going to get out that you were beating your wife, you're also going to find your business records on the internet and I highly doubt Interpol will be happy to hear what you've been doing."
The fake information the man had given me hadn't fooled me for a second. There had been a half hour metro ride, which I had used to figure out who the man and his wife really were. After that, it had been a cakewalk.
"I don't take kindly to being threatened," Rossini said, his words heavy.
"And I don't work for free, especially for idiots who can't make themselves clear. Now send the dough." I could feel more than hear him pick up and twirl his tumbler around, thinking. It didn't matter, I knew the conclusion he'd come to. It was the same conclusion they all came to.
"Very well. You'll get your money. But I will not forget this Ms. X," he said.
"Save it for the people who care about the room they take up in your head," I replied before hanging up. I put my phone back in my pocket, deciding to hit the convenience store before I went home. I picked up a bottle of booze and a pack of cigarettes, giving the guy behind the counter a look that could freeze Hitler when he tried to card me. After that, I made my way home.
"X where is my money?" my annoying landlord asked as I walked into the building. I glared before reaching into my pocket and pulling out the stack I had set aside.
"Here's your two thousand," I said, shoving it into his hands before making my way to the stairs. I felt him counting it behind my back as I climbed the stairs.
"This isn't counterfeit, is it?" he demanded when he was done. I turned around and shot him a glare.
"Like hell I would give you counterfeit money. Don't insult me again by insinuating I would," I growled. The slimy landlord took a step back before recovering himself.
"Just make sure you're on time next time!" he said, walking away. I rolled my eyes before I finished climbing the stairs. I walked to my apartment door and moved to unlock it, stopping when I realized it was open. I narrowed my eyes, standing silently and feeling, trying to figure out who was on the other side of the door.
Cologne, mid-range expensive. Easy lock pick. Positioned in the chair where he can see. It all pointed to a professional on the other side of the door but since he left the door open to make himself obvious, I assumed he was here to talk. Probably a job offer, I thought, continuing inside but still on my guard.
"How was anger management?" Nick Fury asked. I continued to the table like finding the director of SHIELD sitting uninvited in my apartment was a normal occurrence, and dropped the booze on the table, taking out the pack of cigarettes and lighting up. I took a deep drag of smoke before slowing blowing it out.
"Still pissed," I said, offering a half-ass "whoops" face before turning my back on him and walking to the window. I propped it open and then leaned back against it, taking another drag of my cigarette.
"Aren't you a little young for cigarettes and spirits?" Fury asked, eyeing the bottle of bourbon I had bought.
"Aren't you a little old to be avoiding the point?" I asked, raising a sarcastic eyebrow as I walked over and dropped onto the couch, crossing my legs and laying a hand over the back of the couch.
"Alright fine, we'll cut the small talk. You've caught SHIELD's attention."
"Whoop de doo," I said, exhaling smoke.
"You're a talented young woman S-"
"Don't call me by that name. It doesn't belong to me anymore." Fury raised an eyebrow at my icy tone but otherwise let it drop.
"We want you to come work for us."
"How about no? Just cuz I've taken down some of your agents and managed to hack your system in my spare time, finding a bunch of dirty secrets I doubt even you know are there, doesn't mean I'm cut out to be, or even want to be, an agent," I said.
"What kind of dirty secrets?" Fury asked, slightly surprised.
"Nice try, I'm not doing your dirty work for you. So take your offer and kindly shove it up your ass." Fury chuckled.
"You're one smart bitch. You knew I was coming and what I was offering before I came, didn't you?" he asked.
"You may want to do a full system purge when you get back. Sorry you wasted your time convincing that council of morons to bring me in," I said, offering an "innocent" smile. Fury smirked.
"Apparently, I should. Well, if you ever change your mind, you know how to find me. Enjoy your booze," he said, getting up and walking to the door.
"But X?" Fury asked at the door.
"What?" I demanded.
"Leave my agents alone," he said, his tone dangerous. "Now have a good night." He exited the room as quietly as I'm sure he entered it. I snuffed out my cigarette before getting up and pouring myself a glass of booze. I chuckled as I put it to my lips.
"They aren't your agents you know," I said, before downing the glass and going to take a shower.
A/N: Well? Haz I improved? Did you like? PLEASE REVIEW!