Carren's POV

Apparently, Nick Fury and I differ quite drastically when it comes to our definitions of "ready."

I don't know what he thought it meant, but when a young woman in a familiar black military uniform showed up at the front door of my apartment the next morning, I was wearing a T-shirt and pajama bottoms, holding a disposable cup of my favorite tea and armed with a pen and a moleskin notebook.

"Um..." She faltered for the briefest second, taking in my messy appearance (more namely my rat's nest hair) with surprise. But she recovered impressively quickly. "My name is Maria Hill. I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D." She stuck out a hand and, after a little pause of hesitation, I shook it. Her eyes flicked up to my hair again. "Do you want a few more minutes to prepare yourself...?"

I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it..." I headed back into my apartment and then came back with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders as protection against the icy cold. "Okay, now I'm ready."

I wasn't sure, but for a second I could've sworn she almost smiled. "This way then." And then she directed me towards a black car with tinted windows and a driver wearing dark sunglasses and anear piece that would've thought only existed in spy movies (had I not known of S.H.I.E.L.D.).

I climbed in slightly awkwardly, considering I was clutching a blanket around my person while carrying a hot drink, but eventually I got myself settled. Maria took the seat next to me and the car sped off.

"Are you here to debrief me before arrival?" I asked nonchalantly, sipping my tea and grimacing as the scalding liquid trickled down my throat.

"Yes." She hesitated and looked over at me, brown eyes both curious and wary, slightly reminiscent of a doe who had never seen humans before. I chuckled.

"Has Fury mentioned me a lot?" I questioned, slightly amused, although I already knew the answer.

To her credit, she didn't flinch. "What makes you ask that?"

"You're looking at me in a way that suggests you think I'm going to run at you and attack or something." I shifted in my seat, smirking. "I presume you were listening into Fury and I's cozy little chat yesterday?"

"Standard security protocol." She replied stiffly. I waved my hand in a dismissive matter.

"You misunderstand me. I don't hold it against you. Now, for the briefing...?"

"Ah, right." She paused again, and then launched into an explanation. "Lau- Loki is your charge. Most of the time he's out repairing parts of the city and Stark Tower, but when he's catching a break he rests in a cell in the middle of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. He's already monitored by about a hundred cameras, but your job is to sit at a station in close view of the cell and... well, frankly put up with him."

"What is it about him that makes him so insufferable?"

"Most people find him... difficult, to say the least. His presence alone has an unsettling effect, firstly. Employees have filed complaints about nausea, vertigo, headaches, etcetera. Secondly, if that doesn't put people off, his running sarcastic commentary gets them banging their heads against the wall. Thinly-veiled insults. Backhanded comments. Slurs about the human race and so on."

"Sounds like a savory character. And my job is merely to sit there and take it all in and watch him to make sure he doesn't bust out of his cell?"

"Roughly. There are a few other tasks, but those will be explained by Agent Kim when you arrive at your post. Any questions?"

"Just one." Here, I paused, debating on whether or not to ask. Maria glanced at me expectantly, and I forged ahead. "Loki... they say he's a god." I looked at her with pleading eyes, as if begging her to tell me it wasn't true. "Is he really?"

Silence. Maria took a few moments to survey me, as if wondering what effect her answer would have on me. I simply waited with baited breath, staring back, hoping my face gave nothing away.

Finally she spoke. "It is unclear. But from what we can gather about Asgard and his abilities and his age... yes. He is a god."

I felt a rueful grin spread across my face. That's what I was afraid of. "I'm sorry I asked."

And she couldn't get another word out of me for the entire car ride.

When we arrived at HQ, I let out a low whistle of admiration. "Looks like things have changed quite a bit over the years."

"You've been here before?" Maria sounded surprised as the car pulled up.

"Shocking, I know. Only a couple of times, though. Whenever I'm at Fury's convenience." I didn't elaborate further and she got the hint.

"Go in through the front. A quick swipe from your badge should get you through reception."

"Got it. Thanks." I jumped out fthe car and shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around me. I left the disposable cup in the car; I had finished with the tea anyway. In the back of my mind I wondered if I could get some more tea somewhere.

"Good luck." And with that the man drove the vehicle away.

I'm sure I made quite a sight, walking towards the front doors of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, my pajamas and blanket offering stark contrast from the black business suits and uniforms of the people around me. A few curious glances and suspicious frowns were thrown my way, but I ignored them and they left me alone.

Reception was a different matter altogether. The lobby was dead silent when I waltzed in, so it felt like sacrilege walking up to the secretary's desk and speaking.

"Um..." I fished my badge out form my pajama pants pocket and put in on the desk. "Super-secret agent stuff... I have to report for a supervision assignment... personal request from Nick Fury? So... please... let me through."

The please was thrown in as an afterthought.

The secretary looked up and squinted. She had coiffed dark brown hair set in an elaborate hair style on top of her head, and I could easily tell that she was wearing mascara. Her skin reminded me of that of a model wearing too much makeup– without the Photoshop to make it look natural.

Her critical eyes traveled down my form to my less-than-flattering outfit and the blanket draped around my shoulders.

"I don't think so," She drawled, drawng out her syllables in an infuriating matter. "Personal request from Nick Fury? Uh-uh. You don't look it. I don't let little girls in."

I felt my cheeks heat up; not with embarrassment, but in anger, and I was about to let this benighted receptionist have it when a man bounded in through a side door.

He was tall and Asian, with black hair spiked up in the front with too much gel, a grin on his face and dark eyes. I barely managed to read the surname 'Kim' on his badge before he slung an arm around my shoulders and flashed the receptionist a white smile.

"Aw, Becca, what are you talking about?" He glanced at me and winked, as if to say go along with it. "From where I'm standing, no little girls here– all the right curves in all the right places."

I rolled my eyes as the secretary- Becca- looked at us with her eyes narrowed and her eybrows drawn in tight with suspicion.

"She's my girlfriend." Kim explained.

"You wish." I shot at him and disentangled his arm from my form, glaring. "And thanks for your help, but I really don't need it." I turned back to Becca and scowled. "That's fine– don't believe me. But I don't want to be here when Nick comes in in all his righteous, trench-coated one-eyed fury and blames you for scaring away one of his agents."

And with that parting statement, I turned on my heel and started to stalk off.

I was stopped with a hand on my wrist. "Aw, c'mon, babe. I was just joking. I know who you are– Carren Paradizo, right? Come with me. I'm your boss."

"You would have no idea what a pain in the neck it is to be in charge of the Loki thing." Kim- I learned his first name was Kevin- complained as we went down hall after hall in the labyrinthine corridors of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

"You must be suffering so badly." I mumurered sarcastically, shuffling after him, making careful note of every turn we made. He nodded morosely, sympathizing with himself.

"I am. Haven't had a proper date in... what, a month? Yeesh. Fury's really pilling it on. Especially with all of the other agents begging to be reassigned... oh well. Maybe you'll last longer."

"I intend to last a great deal longer than all of the imbeciles you put before me."

"Rather well-spoken, aren't you? And is that a trace of a French accent?"

I gave him a cautious look. He was sharper than I gave him credit. "I got my college degree at nineteen. I would hope that the education paid off. And yes, I am French. I would have thought "Paradizo" gave it away."

"Hm. I thought your surname sounded a bit familiar... does your father do business, or something?"

"Something like that, yes." I replied vaguely, and changed the subject quickly. He either didn't notice or chose not mention it. "Now, I didn't come here for idle small talk. Can you give me the specifics on my job?"

"Oh yeah." He rubbed the back of his head. "Pretty simple. You watch him. Almost day and night. Especially when he's repairing Stark Tower. Try to put up with him– I swear, that guy has a sharp tongue. He'll turn anything you say into an insult against you."

"Noted."

"Oh, one more thing." He dug around in his pocket and produced a small little device the size of an iPod nano. He handed it to me. "He wears this bracelet kind of thing- it deposits this special kind of poison into his veins that has been tested to knock him out, god or not."

I felt my throat close up at the word god.

"And that little thing allows you to administrate the poison. So if he misbehaves, just twist the little red dial... try not to deploy too much, though."

"Right." I said shortly, and pocketed it. "Anything else I need to know?"

He stopped in front of a door and swiped his badge across a pad. A green light blinked on, and he turned to flash me a grin before opening the door for me and waving me in. "Um, watch yourself. He's in a bad mood today."

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

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