Chapter 5: Miss Swan

"Jackie?!" Tyler gasped as she saw her friend behind the door.

"Hey, Tyler!" Jackie smiled wide and pulled Tyler into a hug. They stayed there a moment in each other's arms, not having seen each other for years, before Tyler separated and held Jackie at arm's length as she looked at her.

"I can't believe it's really you," she breathed. Before Jackie could say anything Tyler dropped her hands from her friend's shoulders and motioned inside. "Come in," she offered. Jackie smiled as she stepped forward and Tyler shut the door behind her. They turned to face each other and stood there, neither of them truly believing it was the other they were looking at.

Jackie was exactly how Tyler remembered her. She had long, black hair that was tied back into a pony tail and curled at the end. Her skin was spotless and she had a natural tan that looked absolutely perfect. Her eyes were dark but they shined like no other and her smile reflected her genuine kindness. The only thing different about her was that she wore a blue, skin-tight S.H.I.E.L.D uniform instead of her normal tank-top, short-shorts, and whatever-went-nicely-with-it type of clothes.

Tyler was the first to break the silence.

"What on earth on you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you said you were moving to India for your father's job!"

Jackie nodded sheepishly and tried to find the right words. Tyler saw that this would be quite a story so she walked over to the two armchairs and pulled her bag off the first. She motioned for Jackie to sit and followed suit once her friend was situated.

"That's what I thought too," Jackie finally said, "it's what my father told me before we left because S.H.I.E.L.D. is a secret to the general public and... Let me start from the beginning, sorry." Jackie' smile became a little nervous.

"That's alright," Tyler reassured as she waved it away with her hand. Jackie took in a deep breath before continuing.

"My father was a secret agent here for years, but when he fell in love with my mother and married her, she insisted that they moved near her family since my father's own family wasn't a part of the picture. My mom didn't know it, but the reason why my father was living in Los Angeles was that the station he was assigned to for S.H.I.E.L.D. was currently there and he needed to remain there. His love for my mom, however, was too great for him to be able to ignore her plead.

"He talked to Director Fury who agreed to let him move as long as he continued to report back any trouble he got wind of to the agency. They moved after that to New York where they had me and I met you when we were eight," this brought a smile to both of their faces. Jackie's, however, faded as she continued.

"My mom became ill when we were fifteen, as you probably remember, and the doctor told us it was highly developed stage four cancer. He said there was nothing he could do for her but ease her passing when the pain became too great because the cancer was too far in development to be treated with chemo-therapy. She died a month later and brought us all despair.

"After the funeral my father decided there was no more reason for him to stay away from his job, all he needed was to find a place for me. I refused, however, and demanded he take him with me. It took a while but eventually he gave in and Fury gave his permission that I was allowed to remain here with a tutor for school and I could even take up a job if I wanted. After a couple months of no friends and only school I began to regret my decision to come and more than once I thought about going back to New York and telling you everything; you were- are- my best friend, after all.

"Fury, however, forbid it and told me that if I was in that much need of something to do he would find me something himself. He did, and I immediately fell in love. I was always a sucker for fashion, as you know, and even dreamed of designing my own clothes. My talent, however, was too common for me to get a job on my own so Fury asked if I could design a uniform for his agents to wear. Though I admit they aren't too comfortable or fashionable now, they were way worse before I came. I designed uniforms for plenty of other things as well, and Fury was even able to pull some strings so that I could be a designer without having to leave the HQ aside from a few business trips. That's what I continue to do, though I am officially labeled as an agent.

"When I heard that a Tyler Stark was coming on board my heart literally skipped a beat; I didn't think that I would ever see you again, but then there you were on the jet. I couldn't believe my eyes, for two reasons. One was because it actually was you, the other was because," she paused to snicker a bit, "you had to be carried by the Captain."

Tyler's heart immediately sunk as she heard this. She looked around a bit as she tried to gain the motivation to speak.

"I what?" she asked with horror. "Steve told me that... that..."

Jackie burst into laughter. "Your reaction," she stuttered between breaths, "priceless."

Tyler pouted and reached behind her for the pillow resting on the chair. She threw it at Jackie who was barely able to catch it. "Jerk," she accused.

"Guilty as charged," Jackie admitted. "Really, though," she managed after catching her breath, "what was it that Cap told you?"

"That I was able to wake up enough to walk to my room on my own but then collapsed on the bed when I reached it," Tyler murmured, suddenly feeling like the most gullible person in the world.

Jackie smiled. "Don't worry, Cap's always like that. He doesn't want to hurt another person's feelings and when you first meet him you think he's so nice that he could never lie to you. Am I right?"

Tyler nodded solemnly before a thought crossed her mind and her head snapped up. "You keep calling Steve 'Captain' or 'Cap,'" she observed, "Is he the boss of this whole thing? Or, close to the top, considering you were saying something about your father talking to 'Director Fury...'"

Jackie quirked an eyebrow. "He didn't tell you?" she asked. "Well, I don't suppose that's much of a surprise; he's not one to wear his title like a badge. Steve isn't a normal person. In fact, he's sort of a super human... He's uh… Captain America."

Tyler's jaw dropped; she didn't see that one coming. Steve was the Captain America. The super soldier, the, the... He lied to her. If she was going to be working with him, didn't he think it was a good idea to tell her who he was? Didn't any of them? For all she knew Clint could be the Hulk or something! Or… maybe not… he didn't seem like the type to become a big, green rage monster, as Tony once described to her.

Jackie must have seen her sudden spike and fall in attitude about this because her lips curled up into an amused smirk. Tyler caught this and glared at her.

"What?" she barked. Jackie just shrugged.

"I always find it fun to see people's reactions about these things," she explained. "I have to admit, though, yours wasn't nearly as good as Coulson's..." Her voice trailed away and her features became grim. Tyler looked at her with concern for a moment before deciding that now wasn't the time to speak of whoever Coulson was. Instead, she changed the subject to something Jackie loved.

"Back to the topic of uniform," Tyler said as she leaned forward with her elbows on the coffee table and her chin resting in her hands, "I assume you're the one who designed mine?"

This brought the smile back to Jackie's face, even if it was just a small one.

"Indeed I was," she confirmed. "I actually designed it earlier on a wild thought tangent that you might someday be here, since your father is... well-known by the agency. I never got to actually put it to material until I asked Fury if I could make it for you. It took a little bit of convincing, but he gave in eventually." Jackie's eyes traveled along the suit, "I have to say, you wear it a lot better than I expected."

Tyler smiled and sat up in a sexy pose.

"Do I?" she asked in a seductive voice. They both burst into laughter a moment later, just like they used to, and for once neither of them thought about anything but having fun. When their laughter died down they began updating one another about things that had happened over the three years that they had been away from each other. Their conversation went on until eight, and would have continued if their food wasn't on the line. As soon as they noticed how late it was they hastily made their way over to the kitchen so that they didn't miss dinner.

Tyler was surprised to find that there weren't very many people there, as she had previously expected. Bruce was there talking to Steve, Clint and Natasha were sitting together, and a few other strangers meandered around whom she didn't recognize.

"There's no one here," she whispered to Jackie who nodded.

"Many of the agents have their food delivered or they eat early, and there's a more than one kitchen on each floor so we don't have to try to cram everyone in one room."

"I see," Tyler said as she stepped forward to fill her plate with the food that had been prepared. There was a generous amount of juicy steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, and even some fluffy biscuits and honey. She was surprised that the food was so gourmet since this was a ship and generally the food tended to be more... dry, to say the least.

When her plate was full Tyler turned around and made her way toward Steve and Bruce. She set down her plate on the opposite side of the table from Steve and slid into her seat with a pompous grin. As the Captain looked up his smile pursed into a confused pucker.

"So, Captain," Tyler said with a look that almost mirrored her father's, "what was it you said about me walking to my room without help earlier?"

Steve grimaced and looked down at his plate of food. "You found out," he stated simply. Tyler nodded.

"Mhmm," she hummed as she took a bite of her mashed potatoes without looking away from the abashed Steve. Jackie sat down next to her friend with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Cap," she said sympathetically, "I thought she already knew."

Bruce, who had been quiet and watchful until now, chuckled a bit.

"I think he had that one coming to him," he observed. Steve nodded as he pushed his food around with his fork like a child being scolded by his parents.

"Yep, probably did," he agreed. The group, aside from Steve, laughed at this and moved on to another subject.

"So," Banner began, "did you guys know each other before Tyler came?"

Jackie was the first to respond, "Yes, actually. We met when we were eight and have been best friends since."

Bruce nodded and asked, "Was it you who got Tyler into this then?"

Jackie gave a short laugh. "Are you kidding? Fury would have my head if I told anybody about this." She stopped and looked at Tyler quizzically, "I honestly am not sure how she came here."

Tyler took this as her cue and explained, "I was getting bored of being a secret to the world so Tony decided to place me inside a bigger secret so that I wouldn't be restless." She snorted and motioned to the outfit she was wearing. "Not exactly when I had in mind when I asked him for a suit, but it'll do."

Jackie laughed. "Are you saying that my design isn't good enough for you?"

"Oh, no," Tyler said with a smile, "it's a lot better than my old T-shirts. I was just hoping for something a little more... explosive."

Steve raised an eyebrow at this. "You said something about not being like your father?" he asked.

Tyler looked at him with her eyebrows raised on her forehead and her lips curled into a half-smile. "I said for the most part. I never said I was entirely different from him."

"Oh, boy," Banner said with fake nervousness. "Who invited her here again?"

"That would be Director Fury," Natasha joined in the conversation without warning as she pulled up a chair to the table. Clint followed right behind her, food and all. "You wear the suit well, by the way," she complimented.

"Thanks," Tyler said with a smile. Natasha's first comment didn't go over Bruce's head, though.

"Must be pretty talented for Fury to let you here on such short notice," he said, implying something that Tyler had no idea how to respond to. The others at the table turned their eyes on her and the blood rushed to her face under the scrutiny.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she replied hastily, trying to get the topic off of her.

"Oh, yeah," Clint grunted before she could change the subject, "and I'm pretty sure I saw a flying pig the other day."

The group chuckled and Tyler shrugged with exasperation.

"I'm serious, I have no idea how Tony did it," she insisted. "He doesn't tell me anything."

"But," Natasha spoke up, "Fury said Stark showed him a video that you obviously had to be in for him to let you onto the ship." The others nodded in agreement and kept their eyes fixed on Tyler, except for Steve who had been staying out of this particular conversation. Tyler looked to him for help, knowing that she couldn't satisfy the needs of the other S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Steve glanced up at her then turned to the others.

"Guys," he said, "Come on, give the girl some space. You're going to give her a heart attack and it's only her first day."

"If Tony's her father," Clint scoffed, "I highly doubt the attention is really bothering her that much. Right, Miss Swan?"

Tyler's blush was immediately replaced with a sharp glare in the agent's direction.

"Where did you hear that name?" she asked icily. The rest of the people at the table were left to glance from Clint to Tyler with the utmost confusion.

"Well," Clint began, "I've been friends with your father for quite some time now. We've had our share of drinks at his mansion, but I never once heard him talking about you. I continuously raked my memory for anything that might hint to your existence until I remembered Jarvis saying something he apparently wasn't supposed to. I recall him alerting Tony that a Miss Swan had come home," he paused to take a drink from his cup, "and Tony immediately left to 'take care of something.' I honestly wasn't sure if it was you or not, but, it appears I had the right hunch. Do you mind if I ask what the story is behind that name?"

Tyler simply glared at Clint who kept her gaze coolly. His eyes no longer seemed that threatening to her. As a matter of fact, they now caused her to grit her teeth with irritation. Not one person aside from Tony and Pepper knew the meaning behind the nickname; not even Jackie and Tyler told her everything. But there truly should be no reason for her to get mad at Clint, he was just curious. She took a moment to cool herself down before she answered.

"There is no story," she managed to say without anger. Clint raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his drink before continuing.

"That why you're scowling right now?" he asked.

"Clint!" Natasha interrupted finally with an incredulous look in his direction.

"What?" he asked as though he weren't doing anything wrong. He really wasn't; he was just asking her about the nickname Tony gave her. There was no reason for Tyler to be angry, but... the way he said it with an implication to, to something that he couldn't possibly know was there caused her anger to heat up. She hated the name. Always did, always will. It wasn't so bad when Tony said it since he was being playful about it, but when Clint said it... He seemed to have a knack for getting his nose into places it didn't belong. She didn't want to begin trying to explain to him how childish he was being right now. Was it that big of a deal that Tony didn't want her to be followed by the paparazzi everywhere? It was the only reason he kept her hidden from even the closest of his friends, aside from Colonel Rhodes. The name Clint overheard was…

"Excuse me," Tyler said quietly as she stood and dumped her dishes in the sink. Normally she wouldn't mind washing them but she needed out of that room. It was too small for so many people looking to her for answers that she just couldn't give away. Figures, huh? She hated secrets but she herself had a huge one that clung to her like a tumor.

She could hear a muffled sound and a grunt as she turned to leave that probably came from Clint being kicked by Natasha again. There was also the scrape of someone's chair, most likely Jackie, but someone stopped her with a quiet no.

"Let her be," was the last thing she heard as she sped down the hallway toward her room.

Why did she get so angry at such a trivial thing? Was it just Clint or... no, no it wasn't. The name wasn't trivial. She was mad at the person who named her in the first place. That horrid, evil… thing. Or maybe, she was mad at Tony for giving her the nickname even though she insisted that he call her Tyler.

Suddenly she didn't care. She didn't care why she was mad; all she knew was that she was mad. She was mad at Tony, at Clint, at... at him. And she needed to let it out. She needed... something to hit.

Before she knew it she was stationed just outside the gym Steve had showed her earlier. The gym? Why was she there? Had her feet carried her there by instinct? Not that it mattered; the gym was probably the best place for her to be right about now.

Without caring that she had no water or suitable work out clothes she marched into the empty gym and stopped when she reached the many rows of punching bags. She stared at one for a while before she stepped forward and punched it as hard as she could with her right hand, and it felt good. There was nothing like a little violence to let out her jumbled up emotional system.

She punched again with her right and followed up with her left. She paused for a moment then threw another punch. And another, and another. She began to throw her arms with steadily growing power and speed. Soon enough she even hashed out a few kicks. She continued this for... a long time. She had no idea how long, but it felt like a week.

When she could no longer keep herself up she stumbled backwards until her back hit the wall behind her. Or was it a wall? It might've been another piece of equipment. At any rate she slid down the obstacle until she was sitting on the floor, her breath coming in heavy gasps. She stayed there staring at the punching bag until her vision became blurry. It took her a while to realize that tears were streaming out of her eyes. She reached up to wipe them away but they just kept falling without letting up.

It was only the first day and she was already having a break down, that was just great. Dandy, beauteous, whatever other sarcastic comment that was out there. How had she managed to get herself mixed up in this? All Clint did was ask her about the nickname, couldn't she have just answered him? It wasn't the name that was the problem but the man who named her; she didn't have to tell them about that part. Now everyone probably thought she had extreme emotional problems which… she probably did. But still, why? Could it have been that she... no, she couldn't blame herself. It was his fault, it always was. Why did he have to—she cut off the thought and heaved herself back to her feet. She would not let herself think of it, of him. Not now, not ever.

She once again stepped forward and began to hash out her anger on the punching bag. She punched and kicked and elbowed the large sack of sand until both her limbs and brain became numb with exhaustion. She tilted forward and steadied herself on the punching bag with her palms and her head leaning on it. She should... she should go to bed...

Instead, she punched the bag one last time and remained standing there. Even though her muscles were shaking she just stayed rooted to the spot. What did it matter, anyway? She had no favor with Clint and he'd probably just make her life hell. The others would ask her about it and once again open her wounds. She was quite content staying here for the rest of the night and maybe even tomorrow. She closed her eyes and buried her conscious into the depths nothingness.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there but she was just about to tip over and fall to the floor. The only thing that stopped her was the gentle hand that found its way to her shoulder.

"Tyler?" a quiet voice asked. It was Steve.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" she mumbled, not moving from her spot or opening her eyes.

"I've had seventy years worth of sleep," he replied softly, "I think I've had enough."

Tyler didn't respond; she just wanted to be left alone. Though it was incredibly selfish of her to be thinking this she honestly didn't find it in her heart to care about anything other than her pain at the moment.

"Come on," Steve urged with a gentle tug on her shoulder. She simply shrugged his hand away and remained clinging to the punching bag. Steve gave a heavy sigh and asked a simple, "Please?"

Tyler took a deep breath before saying, or maybe it was slurring, "Go to bed."

"After you," Steve ordered sternly. When Tyler still didn't move he sighed. "I will drag you to your bed myself if you don't come back with me."

"Try it," Tyler challenged sleepily. Steve huffed.

"Alright, you said it."

Suddenly Tyler's feet were lifted off the ground from under her. She opened her eyes wide with a gasp and instinctively clung to whatever she could to keep balance; it just so happened that the only thing there was Steve's neck. He held her legs in one arm and her shoulder's in another, like how a groom would carry his bride.

"Let go of me," Tyler demanded. Steve shook his head and began walking toward her room.

"No can do, Ma'am," he said with his usual politeness, "I'm sure you understand."

Tyler glared up at him but didn't have the strength to argue.

"Fine," she mumbled as she closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. This was the second time he'd carried her like that and it was only her first day... How pathetic. Not that she could really do anything about it. At least this time it was too late for anyone to be walking the halls... maybe it would go completely unnoticed.

When they were outside Tyler's room Steve set her feet down gently on the ground and steadied her as she swayed.

"Careful," he cautioned. "Are you alright from here?"

Tyler looked up at him with half-open eyes and nodded. He searched her face for a moment but took a step back as she turned and fumbled with the door knob. He was just about to open the door for her when it opened unexpectedly and she almost fell forward. She cursed under her breath but was able to catch herself.

"You sure you're alright?" Steve asked again, warily watching to make sure she didn't fall forward a second time. Tyler threw a sharp glare over her shoulder at him.

"I'm fine," she insisted. He nodded and slowly turned to leave, but stopped as Tyler spoke again. "And Steve," she said suddenly. He halted and turned to her.

"Yes?"

Tyler paused before finishing with a simple, "Thanks."

Steve smiled and nodded. "My pleasure, Miss," he said softly before Tyler fully entered her room and closed the door behind her.

She wasn't sure exactly how she did it but she was able to shrug off the suit Jackie had given her and change into a comfortable pair of PJ's. After that she fell face first onto her bed and let her exhaustion overtake her.

The night air was cool and crisp, but felt heavier with stink than any air on Asgard. It almost made him want to hurl when he was on the ground, but when he was up here it was surprisingly light and refreshing. The only good thing about the giant skyscrapers other than giving him more things to destroy was that they lifted him out of the jumble of Midguardians and relieved his senses of their stench.

It hadn't yet been a year since his first attack on the city and the effects were still visible. The remnants of the Chitauri bodies were the first to go, probably dumped in an ocean or cremated, but the impressions they left were still prevalent. Streets were destroyed, bridges cut in half, buildings crumpled to the ground. Tirelessly the Midguardians worked, slaved even, over their weak edifices that made them feel so safe and secure. If they were destroyed so easily the first time, were they not going to be just as easily destroyed when he returned? The Midguardians truly were a pitiful species, yet there were so many of them.

Out of all of the thousands of women in this city alone, why could he not find just one that would accept the spell he had crafted? Maybe he simply needed to change it so that it would be more compatible with the dull creatures. But to belittle his talent to such a low level… no, he couldn't. He would change the spell a little, yes, but unless he could find someone fit to give its gifts to then he would scrap the idea and move on with his plan. Having a Trojan horse wasn't his top priority at the moment; Heimdall could find him at any point in time.

As a matter of fact, he was surprised that he hadn't been found yet. Wouldn't Heimdall have noticed that Loki was still residing on Midguard? Then again, the all-seeing sentry could not be asked to see that which he was not looking for, and currently Loki was in Thor's possession. Allegedly.

Yes, Loki would keep up his stealth while he continued searching for an acceptable host for his magic. It could take months, but he was prepared to wait as long as he needed. After all, the bulk of the attack rested mostly on the preparation.

He turned from the city below him and disappeared to his warehouse. With luck, he would find what he needed and be able to catch the petty Avengers completely off-guard, and the ending would be so much sweeter than last time. For him, anyway. His lips curled up in a smile as he thought of the horror on their faces when he caused even more destruction.

That would show them. They would all finally feel what he had felt, see what he had seen. Pain, despair, darkness. He relished the thought of bringing the petty warriors to their knees before him. The power he would feel…

As he rematerialized in the warehouse he took a deep breath and smiled. The end is near, Midguardians, he thought. Prepare yourselves.

Hooray for character development! More next chapter, along with some angst and lots of sweat(from training). Thank you lots to those who have reviewed and to those who haven't... *^* I know you're reading this. I will find you. (Now's the part where you click the box that says review! :D ) Well, even if you don't, thanks for reading. :)

-KC