Chapter 7 - Stevie

January 9, 2014, 10 p.m.

Stevie crouched, every nerve on high alert. She did a quick mental inventory.

Shield by the door. Gun in the safe on top of the fridge.

There was a knife block, but it was on the counter. The only items to hand were books and the occasional scattered toy. She looked into the living room. A shadow in a black coat put the cover back on her record player and sat down in her armchair with a grunt, bars of light from her half-open blinds slanting across his face.

Fury?

For a moment she thought he'd somehow read her mind, divined her choice to reveal Project Insight. It wouldn't be too far fetched, after what she'd seen. She edged closer, straining her senses to try to pick up if anyone else was inside the apartment. And then she smelled it.

Blood.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. Stevie stepped out from behind the bookshelf.

"I don't recall giving you a key." She said, over the sound of Aretha Franklin singing about how she'd been drinking again.

"Do you really think I'd need one?" Fury replied, single eye half closed. Humor in his tone. Still so goddamned smug. "My wife kicked me out."

"I didn't know you were married." In fact, I'm pretty sure you aren't.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

"I know, Nick." She turned on a table lamp and saw blood shining in his neatly trimmed goatee. "That's the problem."

He turned the light off and held out his phone, down at knee level. The text on the screen read "EARS EVERYWHERE."

Stevie was acutely aware of Maggie's presence in the bedroom, just a few feet away. She fought the desire to turn and flee, to scoop up her daughter and run. If someone was watching the apartment, that would be the worst thing to do.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but I had no place else to crash." Fury had been typing on his phone one-handed while he spoke. When he turned it toward her again, it read "SHIELD COMPROMISED".

"Who else knows about your wife?" Stevie's mind was racing. Who could have done this to Fury, forced him to run with no plan? He was, as Tony had once put it, the spy. Stevie had no doubt his contingency plans had their own contingency plans. For him to be caught flat footed...

"Just," Fury stood stiffly. "My friends." He held his phone down by his side. It read "YOU AND ME."

"Is that what we are?"

"That's up to you."

He stepped toward her – and the window shattered.

Stevie dove across the room, protecting Fury with her body. He cried out in pain as they landed heavily on the floor.

They'll be coming to finish the job. Commandos breaking down the door any moment. My gun. Maggie!

Fury seized Stevie's hand and pressed something into her palm. A USB drive. Was it the same one from the Lemurian Star? He pulled her close and whispered, painfully, urgently.

"Don't. Trust. Anyone."

Something hit the front door – a solid impact, the sound of a boot. Stevie pulled herself along the carpet to where her shield was propped against the wall, whirled and came up just as her door splintered inward, coming face to face with a wide-eyed Maria Hill.

Don't trust anyone.

Hill took a step forward, as if to go around Stevie to where Fury lay on the floor, but Stevie swept her to the side and pinned her to the wall, shield between them.

"What are you doing here?" Stevie growled.

"He contacted me." Hill's hands were raised, voice high. "He contacted me! Is he alright?"

Stevie looked into Hill's eyes for a moment. They were wide with fear. What am I thinking? Hill had led her on so many missions, had held her life in her hands.

Stevie let her go. The other woman ran to Fury, crouched by his side and pulled a walkie-talkie out of her pocket.

"Foxtrot is down. He's unresponsive. I need EMT's."

"Do we have a 20 on the shooter?" came the voice on the other end of the line. Male. Unfamiliar.

Through the tatters of her venetian blinds, Stevie saw a shadow move on the rooftop. A glint of streetlights on metal. She considered chasing him, then she heard her daughter's wail behind her.

Maggie.

Stevie burst into the bedroom, where her daughter sat up in bed, howling. Dropping her shield, Stevie snatched the girl up, checking her for blood, for broken bones...Nothing. Nothing. Just a tired, angry baby. Thank God.

A late update today! I had a day at home with the kids while the husband was out, so...no time to post until now. ;-)

You may notice the conspicuous absence of Agent 13. I eliminated her for...a couple reasons. Mostly because she is complete pointless. Don't me! Or do - I love feedback. :-)