Recommendation: Story recommendation for this chapter is "Heroes Never Die" by John Wolfe. HP/Stargate crossover. I can't think of a single thing I can write that doesn't give this fantastic story away. The best I can do is: Janet Fraiser isn't who you think she is. Janet/Sam; H/Hr. Not complete, but still gets occasional updates. If you like it, please leave a review and let the author know!
Chapter 11 - Rock Bottom
Harlem, New York City. August 29, 2009, 7:42 PM.
As Iris Potter approached the massive pile of rubble, pieces started shifting and rolling off as something large started moving around inside. "Good," Iris said softly, "we can have a little more fun." A single grey hand shot out and began to pull away debris, and Iris incanted, "Ossus Diffringo." When the bone shattering curse struck the hand, she was rewarded with a muffled scream from the hand's owner.
The skin of the Abomination was resistant enough to prevent the bones in his hand from shattering, but the spell was strong and dark enough for them to crack and twist, causing him a significant amount of unexpected pain and preventing him from using that hand to pull himself out from under all the rubble. Iris smirked and turned her attention to where the Hulk appeared to be trying to extricate himself as well.
Suddenly the rubble around the Abomination exploded outward, showering Iris with tiny pieces of stone and metal, cutting her all over her face. When she could see again, the creature was standing atop the rubble, breathing heavily and looking down on Iris with absolute fury. "I will destroy you!" he bellowed, not noticing that the Hulk was finally out, too. Since the Abomination was the closest target, that's who the Hulk went after, tackling him and causing them both to roll down the pile towards Iris.
She nimbly jumped away and sneered as they rolled around on the ground, trading punches in their primitive attempts to assert dominance over each other. When they finally stopped rolling, the Abomination was straddling the Hulk and trying to pound on him, though he was frustrated by the Hulk's ability to block the punches.
"You know," Iris said, "you both rather remind me of trolls — big, dumb, and ugly. Fortunately I happen to know of a good method for dealing with trolls." With a flourish, she incanted, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and a massive piece of roadway, about the size of a garbage truck, slowly lifted off of the pile in the intersection and moved sideways until it hovered around twenty meters above the two combattants. It's LeviOHsa, not LeviohSA, she thought with a snigger. Good pronunciation is so important.
"Oh, boys!" Iris called out cheerfully. When the two beasts stopped and turned to look at her, curiosity and confusion on their faces, she simply smiled and waggled her fingers at them in a mocking wave as she cancelled the spell. The Abomination was the first to sense the danger and craned his neck so he could look up at what appeared to be a small planetoid rushing straight towards him. He had no time to move, and because of his position, the Abomination took the brunt of the impact in the face.
This was not something he was going to bounce back quickly from.
Ironically, Iris Potter wasn't doing much better. When she cancelled the spell and cut the pull on her magic, she collapsed on the street in exhaustion. That didn't bother her, though, because she was laughing so hard. "Oh, Merlin," she said when she caught her breath again. "The classics are always the best!" She tried to stand but couldn't, and fell back to the ground in surprise. Uh-oh, she thought, then started to giggle as a wave of giddiness washed over her.
While Iris was laughing, the Hulk was pulling himself out from beneath yet another pile of rubble. The Abomination had inadvertently protected him, so he was in relatively good shape. The Abomination, in contrast, was unconscious and would have to be dug out before anyone would know the extent of his injuries.
Deciding that the Abomination wasn't a threat anymore, the Hulk looked in the direction of the laughter and recognized the second enemy that had attacked him. He had heard the word "sorry" when she first hurt him, but he had never much cared for apologies. Now that the monster was down, he could focus again on this puny woman who had found a way to hurt him. His back still burned where she'd done something.
As he approached her and looked down on her frail, cackling form, he wondered how she had ever been a threat. He stooped and plucked her up with one hand around her throat, lifting her so he could look her in the eyes. She tried in vain to pull his fingers apart and started to gasp for breath. He could recognize weariness in those eyes, but they were also glowing slightly, displaying her power. He shook her a few times, and her slack limbs flopped about despite the fact that she was awake and growing desperate for air. Still a threat, he thought and made the decision to eliminate her while he could.
He lifted his hand above his head and prepared to smash her limp, unresisting body into the ground when he heard a voice cry out from behind him: "Bruce!"
General Ross had the helicopter land in the ruined street behind the combattants in the hope that he could capture whomever was left alive and take the bodies of whomever lost. With the woman looking tired and wounded, he thought he was about to hit the jackpot until he realized that the Hulk was preparing to kill her. It went against his better judgment to encourage his daughter in this, but he needed that woman alive, and if Betty could stop the Hulk, then he'd happily use her.
Turning around he stepped into the helicopter, grabbed his daughter, and roughly dragged her out.
"General!" she cried. "What are you doing!"
"Your boyfriend is about to kill that woman," Ross responded harshly. "Can you stop him?"
"Bruce wouldn't kill anyone!"
"Look at them!" he shouted, and when she looked she could see the Hulk shaking the woman by the throat. Then she understood the danger.
"BRUCE!" she screamed, and just in time as the Hulk had lifted the woman's body into the air, ready to smash her into the ground.
When he stopped and turned to look at her, she continued, "Stop! Please, don't do it! You don't have to do this! Just let her go."
Frowning, he lowered his hand and looked at the gasping woman again. He could still see anger and power there, but with Betty encouraging him, he let her go, and she fell heavily to the ground.
Ignoring the woman now, the Hulk walked slowly over to Betty and reached out to her. Of those on the ground, only the general and an agent in the shadows saw Iris lift herself up on her knees and elbows and pull out her wand.
Iris was in pain all over her body. It felt like she had been smashed, twisted, stretched, and crushed all at the same time — yet there were hardly any physical injuries anywhere on her. The bleeding from her head and face scarcely counted because they were so superficial. She was also likely going to have horrible bruises around her throat, but since she could finally breathe again, she wasn't going to worry about that. She couldn't understand why she was in such pain, or what she should do about it.
First, though, she had a task to complete. The Abomination was down, but the green Hulk still hadn't learned his lesson. Even worse, he dared to ignore her as if she didn't matter! I'll teach you not to turn your back on me, you animal, she thought as she pushed herself up on her elbows and pulled out her wand. Animals need to be properly disciplined, otherwise they won't behave and eventually have to be put down. So I'm doing him a favor, really.
"I'll have you know," she said softly, "that I really, really mean this." Without even bothering with a wand movement, she lifted her right arm and incanted, "Cru—"
"Iris!"
While General Ross' helicopter was landing in the ruined Harlem street, Tony was approaching from the air with Hermione in his arms and Rhodey close behind.
"Sir," came JARVIS' voice, "I've turned off your external speaker so we can talk privately. I'm reading some unusual radio traffic from about fifty miles away."
"What's so unusual about it that I need to know?" Tony asked, more concerned with finding Iris.
"It's heavily encrypted using an algorithm that I haven't seen before, but which looks much like what I've seen S.H.I.E.L.D. use."
"Oh?" Tony asked, his interest now caught.
"Based on data I've been able to extract from local civilian and military airport radar," JARVIS continued, "I've been able to extrapolate the presence of a number of stealth aircraft, about fighter sized. Perhaps two squadrons worth."
"Uh-oh," Tony said, now getting more worried by the second. "What are you up to, Fury?"
"I can't be sure what their intentions are because I've only been able to decode bits and pieces of the radio traffic," JARVIS continued, "but my analysis suggests that they are lining up for an air strike somewhere in this general vicinity."
"Why am I not surprised?" Tony asked with a sigh. "Fury's probably preparing to eliminate his problem here if it turns out we can't deal with it."
"Should we inform Miss Granger?"
"No, that would stress her out more. It's Iris, so she already has all the incentive she'll ever need. But maybe we should bring Rhodey in on this."
"Then it was wise that you asked him to accompany us, sir."
"Of course it was. It was my idea."
Once a secure communications link was established, Tony told Rhodey about Jarvis' discovery. "Can you keep an eye on those signals for us?" Tony asked at the end. "You know more about procedures and tactics of military aircraft, so you might be able to interpret their movements better than I would."
"You got it," Rhodey responded. "As soon as I see any threatening moves, I'll let you know." He then broke off and headed higher into the sky so he could better keep an eye out for possible threats from that direction.
Tony landed on a roof as a woman was pulled from the helicopter; a moment later she screamed "BRUCE!" at the Hulk.
"Interesting," Tony said as he watched the almost immediate change in the Hulk's demeanor when the woman approached him.
Hermione's attention was entirely on Iris. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw how limp Iris' body was when the Hulk dropped her to the ground, but she felt a flash of relief when she saw Iris moving on her own and even trying to get back up. That relief turned to horror, however, when she saw the wand pulled and the color of the spell that started glowing at its tip.
Before she could finish her incantation, Hermione screamed as loud as she could, "Iris!" and then immediately apparated down to the street, right next to the woman she never expected to try casting an unforgivable again.
Her concentration broken and her incantation interrupted, Iris wasn't able to cast her spell at the back of that animal. Grimacing in anger and pain, she turned her head to find out who had dared interfere and was confronted with someone wearing a scaled bodysuit like her own. Gloved hands turned her unresisting body over onto her back and there was a grunt of pain when it happened, though strangely it wasn't from her, despite how much everything on her body hurt.
Blinking, she tried to focus on whoever this was, but only after she had broken through the haze of pain did she recognize that it was Hermione. With her teeth, Hermione removed her glove, freeing her right hand so she could use it to stroke Iris' face. "Oh, Iris. Dear, sweet Iris," she said softly. "What happened to you? What were you doing here? You should have been resting! What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to help you when you do things like this?"
The glow slowly faded from Iris' eyes as she concentrated on Hermione's voice and face. "Hermione?" she asked slowly. "I... I... I don't feel so good..." She then went completely limp as she lost consciousness. Resting her forehead against Iris', Hermione held her tightly while trying to figure out what to do next.
Tony saw that the situation with Iris was probably under control, but he quickly realized that they were being approached by a general who was leading group of armed soldiers. He doubted that they wanted to help, and knew that neither witch was in any position to defend themselves. Deciding that he needed to intervene now, he lifted off the roof and dropped heavily in front of the general and his men. Tony was always able to land gently — he only landed with a loud thud (and maybe a bit of asphalt damage) when he wanted to make an impression.
"General?" Tony said in as friendly a voice as he could muster. "Do you need something?" He lifted his faceplate in the hope that it would make him seem a little less threatening.
"Not from you," Ross said dismissively. "So step aside, son."
"Not if you have any hostile intentions towards those two women," Tony said. He idly noticed that behind the general, the Hulk picked up the woman who had been talking to him and quickly left the area. He didn't care, though — it wasn't any of his business. If big and green was how she gets her thrills, more power to her. It's not like I have any moral high ground to stand on.
"This is a military operation, Mr. Stark," Ross said sternly. "You have no authority to interfere with our actions."
"And you have no authority over civilians inside the borders of the United States, General," Tony pointed out. "Even if either of them is charged with a crime, that would be a matter for local, state, or federal authorities. Not the military."
"Dammit, man!" the general shouted, "You didn't see what she can do! I need her!" The men behind the general started fingering their weapons nervously, unsure about what was going to happen and not pleased with the prospect of having to face off against Iron Man.
Rhodey suddenly dropped down next to Tony and opened his own faceplate. "Those signals?" he said. "They started moving away about ten seconds ago. Someone must have called them off."
"That would be me," came a voice from the shadows.
"Agent Coulson!" Tony said as the figure stepped out into the light. "I was wondering if you were skulking around here."
"I don't skulk," Coulson said, sounding more amused than offended. "I'm simply very, very quiet."
"You're a military officer," Ross said quickly, pointing at Rhodey. "I order you to take that woman into custody."
"Sorry, I'm an Air Force officer, and you're in the Army, General," Rhodey replied. "You're not in my direct chain of command and can't give me orders that are either outside the scope of your authority or that would interfere with the orders I'm currently under — and that's assuming that your order is even legal, which it isn't."
"Of course it's legal!" the general shouted. "This is a military matter and—"
"No, General," Coulson interrupted, "I'm afraid this is now a S.H.I.E.L.D. matter. You've overstepped your authority yet again, and it won't be allowed to continue."
General Ross scowled at Coulson for a long moment before turning around and stalking back to the helicopter. "This isn't over," he called back.
"I'm sure you think it isn't," Coulson responded. "Expect a call from the President."
Once the helicopter was finally taking off, Coulson turned to the two men in armored suits and said, "I think it's time to get these two ladies to a hospital, don't you think?"
Neither Rhodey nor Tony were entirely sure what had just happened, recognizing that there had been a lot more unsaid than said; but they couldn't deny that Hermione and Iris were in desperate need of medical attention. Everything else could wait.
Mount Sinai Hospital, New York City. September 10, 2009, Morning.
Iris came to consciousness slowly, knowing she was injured. It was an experience she was all too familiar with, and she had long ago developed a system for dealing with both it and with whatever medical center she woke up in.
First she went through a personal inventory. Toes? Movable. Fingers? Also movable. All limbs were still attached and probably working. That left the deep-seated ache she had over her entire body. It felt like every single muscle, every single bone, and every nerve had been pounded flat by bludgers for a week. She supposed that Voldemort's cruciatus curse might have been worse, but it was a close thing.
The next step was to figure out how she got here, wherever here was. I remember the expo... I remember fighting those drones... Hermione went off on her own and was hurt... I apparated with Pepper back to the apartment. Then what? There was... another incident? Banner! Yes, there was Banner and some other monstrous creature. There was a fight and... oh, sweet Merlin! What did I do?
"Iris?" she heard a voice say. It sounded distant, but she hadn't quite reached full consciousness yet.
"Iris," came the voice again, a little closer this time. "I know you're awake. I've been in this position too many times not to know when you wake up."
Iris slowly opened her eyes and blinked rapidly against the unexpectedly bright lights. She tried to say something but only ended up croaking.
"Here," came the voice once more, and she found a straw against her lips. Instinctively she took the straw in and sucked, then moaned in pleasure as the cool water hit her mouth and throat. "Mmmmm... thanks," she rasped as the straw was withdrawn. Blinking rapidly again, she looked up and saw Hermione leaning over her, her bushy hair almost glowing with the nimbus of bright lights behind her head.
"Hermione?" she asked, still having trouble with her voice.
"Who else?" the brown-eyed witch asked. "Even in our dorms, I could tell when you were asleep and when you were awake. That's how well I knew your breathing patterns."
"Where?"
"Mount Sinai Hospital, in Manhattan," Hermione responded.
"How long?" Iris asked next, her voice gradually getting stronger.
"It's been almost two weeks since you passed out after the fight," Hermione said as she sat down in a chair next to Iris' bed. "You'll be here for a few more days yet, too."
"Damage?"
"Well...," Hermione said hesitantly. "You... kind of broke Harlem."
"Urk?" Iris croaked out as her eyes widened in shock.
"Well, you didn't do it alone, so there's that," Hermione said, as if that made it all OK. "You by yourself seem to have turned a couple of city blocks into rubble." When Iris moaned, Hermione quickly added, "But it was all in bad shape already from the Hulk and that other creature fighting, and it all would have had to be torn down anyway. So you see, you did them a favor. Sort of."
Iris looked up at her with a skeptical expression on her face. Hermione merely shrugged as if to say, "That's my story and I'm sticking to it."
Iris steeled herself for the next part. "What did I..." she trailed off, then tried again. "Did I... I mean, did anyone..."
"No," Hermione said gently as she put a hand on Iris'. "As far as we can tell, nothing you did killed anyone. Some were probably hurt, and you definitely could have killed someone, but you didn't." She scooted a little closer to the bed and reached out with her hand to turn Iris' head to face her. "What happened out there, Iris? What got into you?"
"I don't know," Iris said softly. "I can remember it all, mostly at least, but it's like I'm watching someone else doing things. I remember feeling powerful. I remember feeling strong. I remember... I remember that I wanted more than anything to use that power — I didn't much care how or where. I wanted to dominate. I... I saw them as little more than animals that needed to be disciplined." Iris wanted to look away, embarrassed and ashamed of what she had done and how many lives she must have put at risk.
"Well, it's clear that your problem with control is a lot more serious than I realized," Hermione said, regretting that she hadn't recognized the extent of the problem sooner. "Though I suppose part of the problem was how so much was pushed on you in one day. There was the massive fight at the expo, then I got hurt, then Fury had the gall to send you out again..." She stopped when she saw Iris shaking her head. "What?" she asked.
"I started losing it back at the expo," Iris said. Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise at hearing that. "It was when you ran off to go after Vanko. I just... I couldn't handle it. I started lashing out at the drones because I knew Vanko was controlling them. It felt like the only way to lash out at him because I was so afraid he would hurt you."
Hermione shook her head and said, "That's something else we're going to have to talk about: your over-protectiveness. I swear, you're worse than my father." Iris started to reply, but Hermione interrupted her. "No, we'll save that discussion for later. Right now we have more pressing matters to deal with.
Hermione took a deep breath, then said, "I think it's time I joined S.H.I.E.L.D." When Iris' eyes widened, she continued, "I know we've talked about this, and I wasn't prepared to do it before. But Tony doesn't need me to find a cure for him anymore while you do need me — a lot. And I've seen that there are other things out there — other threats and dangers — that an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. is needed for. I think I can help, both directly through my own skills and indirectly by helping you."
"Are you sure about leaving Stark Industries, though?" Iris asked. "I know you like your work there."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I like Stark Industries, but I think I'll like S.H.I.E.L.D., too. I'll still get to do some of the same things, but I'll get to do even more." Then she smiled in a predatory fashion. "I'll also get to be your boss, too."
Iris groaned and try to pull the cover over her head, but Hermione wouldn't let her. "Now, now," she said. "I promise to be a good boss. I promise not to punish you too often." She said the last with a grin as she moved her hand to push some hair behind her ear.
It was the same hand that Vanko had crushed, and it still had heavy bandages on it. Iris saw them and cried out as she grabbed Hermione's wrist. "What happened?"
"Oh," Hermione said, sounding a little embarrassed. "That was from Vanko." Before Iris could say anything about that, Hermione continued, "It was pretty bad, but I was able to fix it up. While Tony brought you here, I had Rhodey fly me to Tony's apartment. I keep a supply of basic potions there, just in case, and I took some Skelegrow and a couple of other healing potions before Pepper drove me over here. It was healed the next day, and the X-rays all look good; but since it's my hand I've been extra cautious and using bandages to cushion and immobilize it for a couple of weeks. I'll probably take them off tomorrow to see how it feels. It's been inconvenient, but I don't want to take any unnecessary chances."
"Unnecessary chances?!" Iris choked out, "You want to talk about unnecessary chances, let's talk about you trying to take on Vanko all by yourself!"
Iris was prevented from continuing her rant by Tony and Pepper coming through the door. "Hello, hello!" Tony said. "Look who's awake today! Boy, this looks familiar. Eerily familiar, in fact. Say, aren't you two in the wrong positions?"
While Pepper rolled her eyes, Hermione responded, "Actually, these are our normal positions. I'm usually the one sitting by the bed worrying while she's the one in the bed, unconscious or injured."
"Hey!" Iris complained while Tony and Pepper laughed.
"Don't let her tell you otherwise," Hermione continued, "In our school's hospital wing, the healer put a plaque above one bed, designating it as the Iris Potter Hospital Bed. It's probably still there, too."
"Here you go," Tony said as he approached the bed, "I remembered the flowers this time."
"We remembered the flowers," Pepper corrected as she joined him.
"Well, yeah, it was a team effort," Tony admitted under Pepper's withering glare.
Hermione grinned at their antics. This is what Iris needs at the moment, she thought. A slice of normality and friends. We'll deal with the heavier issues later.
"How are you feeling?" Pepper asked with genuine concern. She was, in fact, the first to ask that question.
"Ugh," Iris responded, "I hurt all over. Like everything has been stretched, folded, spindled, and mutilated."
"That's the magical exhaustion," Hermione said. "It's probably worse for you than for most witches and wizards because of your unusual magical core. Actually, it's not so much magical exhaustion but the fact that you pushed yourself beyond magical exhaustion. It's like working a muscle well past the failure point. You've hurt yourself badly, and it'll take more than two weeks for you to heal."
"How long will she be like this?" Tony asked.
Hermione shrugged and said, "Because she's unusual, it's hard to say. Most magicals probably would have died from pushing themselves as far as she did, so she's already way ahead at this point. The pain might last for another week at least. She shouldn't use any magic for another month, maybe longer."
"No magic at all?" Iris whinged.
"Nope," Hermione said firmly. "That's what you get for pushing yourself so far."
"Look on the bright side," Tony said with a smile, "you get to be taken care of by a gorgeous nursemaid." The last was said while he gestured in Hermione's direction.
Hermione huffed. "If you think I'm going to nurse Iris back to health..." She trailed off as she looked in Iris' direction and was hit by the full force of her puppy-dog eyes. "...You'd probably be right," she finished with a heavy sigh.
"Don't get any funny ideas, buster, the next time one of your crazy stunts goes wrong," Pepper said with a glare in Tony's direction. "I'm immune."
Mount Sinai Hospital, New York City. September 12, 2009.
One evening, after everyone had left and Iris was drifting in and out of sleep, she received yet another visitor. Despite her inconsistent state of consciousness, she was still able to recognize the sound of his footsteps as he approached her door.
"Agent Coulson," she said in greeting without opening her eyes. Her tone was friendly, a sharp contrast to the coldness with which she had greeted him the last time he came to her in a hospital room.
"Agent Potter," the man returned as he walked up to her bed.
He stood there in silence for a long moment, then she finally opened her eyes and looked at him.
"You've looked better," he said.
"I've felt better," she replied.
"You've also looked worse," he added.
"Oh?" she asked, wondering when she could possibly have looked worse than she did just then. She hadn't been this bad even after Budapest, not that she'd ever admit that to Clint.
"Yes, when you were fighting in the street a couple of weeks ago," he replied. She frowned, trying to discern his meaning and wondering if the pain killers she'd been given were interfering with her brain more than she'd realized. "You lost control, and from what I saw it seemed like you were enjoying what you were doing. You weren't doing a job anymore, you were having fun. The look on your face then? That was much, much worse than how you look now. I didn't know that woman, and I didn't want to. She was someone I thought I might have to fight."
Iris wanted to sink through the floor as she absorbed Coulson's words.
Coulson took a deep breath and sighed, clearly struggling with something he'd kept bottled up for a while. "To be perfectly honest, I'm still trying to figure out if I know this woman, either. She's not the same as the Natasha Romanoff I trained and later worked with. You look like her and you sound like her, but you're not her. The Nat I knew wouldn't have lost control, I'm sure of it. She wouldn't have risked civilian casualties except in the most extreme circumstances. She wouldn't have taken pleasure in hurting others, even opponents like the Hulk and Blonsky."
Iris closed her eyes and grimaced at the rebuke, knowing that Coulson was right and unable to offer much by way of a defense. "You're right, unfortunately," she finally said. "The Nat you knew didn't perform the sort of magic that can destroy entire city blocks with a flick of her wrist. The Nat you knew kept that knowledge and power buried deep inside, where it wouldn't hurt anyone."
Coulson nodded, as if he'd expected to hear something like that. "It sounds as though the Nat I knew didn't exist, then," he said. "It sounds like she was a mask, designed to keep others at arm's length and prevent them from getting to know who she was so that she didn't have to risk what they thought about the real woman underneath."
Iris opened her eyes in surprise, then whispered, "Yeah, she was."
"Well, I guess we'll have to start fresh, then, so I can get to know this person." He held out his hand and continued, "Hi, I'm Phil Coulson, a special agent with S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Hi," Iris choked out as she took his hand. "I'm Iris Potter. I'm a witch and also a special agent with S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Nice to meet you," Coulson returned as he sat down. "Do you know when you're going to get debriefed?" he asked.
"No," Iris said, "I just woke up a couple of days ago, and you're the first person from S.H.I.E.L.D. to visit."
"Fury was waiting around for a while, hoping you'd wake up sooner," Coulson said, "but he had to leave the country for a few days. Really urgent business, he said. Even I don't know what it was. There are others who want to visit, but they've wanted to give you a chance to wake up and adjust. Clint, for example, has asked about you several times. I'll let people know."
"Oh, gods," Iris said, putting her head in her hands. "What must he and the others think of me now?"
"Nothing different, for the most part," Coulson responded. "Director Fury has classified the details so highly, that only he and those who were there know the full extent of what went on. Others are aware that you were there and were injured, but are under the impression that the Hulk and Blonsky were responsible for all the damage - which is mostly true."
Iris simply looked at him for a couple of moments before saying, "I'm not sure if I should be grateful or not. I mean, to have done all that damage and then hide it from the people I have to work with..."
"He didn't do it for your sake," Coulson said pointedly. "Or at least, not just for your sake. He also doesn't want too many people to know what your full capabilities might be. If you can learn to maintain control, he hopes you'll be able to start using them in a more positive way."
Iris nodded. "I hope so, too."
Coulson was about to say something else when he was interrupted by a beeping from his phone. He only had to look at it for a moment before he sighed and stood back up. "Sorry I have to leave already," he said, "but I just got a message about something that needs to be checked out."
"Anything interesting?" Iris asked.
"Don't know," he answered, "but it's in New Mexico, so how interesting can it be?"
Outside on the window ledge, a raven was tucked in the shadows where she couldn't be seen. Now that the witch's magic wasn't exploding out of control, she again felt more comfortable in the witch's presence — especially when the second witch was nearby. This wasn't quite what her two mentors had promised her, but it might work out after all.
The Porcupine, Charing Cross Road, London. September 13, 2009. 7:50 PM.
The time they had agreed on for the meeting was 8PM, but Nick Fury had arrived over an hour early. He didn't have a lot of spare time to waste, but this meeting was important, and he couldn't afford to take any chances. He was taking a sip of his third seltzer water when the man he was meeting entered the pub. Fury spotted his two minders immediately: they were dressed well enough, but the way they moved and checked out the pub screamed "security."
The tall, bald, black man looked around the pub slowly, taking in all the faces and sights, before focusing on Fury's table. When the two men caught each other's eyes, they both nodded, and the newcomer strode through the maze of tables to the back corner. Nick stood and shook the other man's hand before they both took their seats.
"Good choice of a place for a meeting," the newcomer said in a rich, accented voice. "Dark interior, mirrors to help you see better around you. I've never been here myself, but I've heard good things about the food."
"Then let's order first," Fury suggested. "We may be here for a while."
"Very well," the other man agreed. Once they had placed their orders and their drinks had arrived, it was time to have a serious conversation.
"So, it's been a long time, Nick Fury," the man said. "What's got you so upset that you had to send a high priority alert to the Ministry?"
"I'm sorry for handling things this way, Minister, but..." Fury was interrupted as the man waved his hand and said, "Please, call me Shacklebolt. Or just Shack. All my friends do."
Fury nodded and continued. "I've got a problem, Shack, and I need some help. Or at least some advice. You remember that witch I talked to you about a few years ago?"
"Yes," Minister Shacklebolt said as he set down his glass and leaned back in his seat. "A powerful witch, if I remember correctly, though one who didn't want to use her magic for some reason and who was staying away from the magical world. You never would tell me her name." Something in his manner suggested that he could guess, though — the list of likely candidates was probably pretty short.
"And I'm not going to tell you now," Fury replied evenly, "But I'm worried that she's becoming a problem, and I need to make contingencies for the future. Unfortunately, my people haven't been able to come up with anything that isn't incredibly destructive, so I'm hoping you can help. Is there anything you can tell me or give me that will let me restrain or otherwise stop a powerful witch who's gone rogue?"
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