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cherryblossomfreak · 3 years

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PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

Don't let ANYONE make you feel like shit for your kintype(s). Even if it's "weird." Even if it's "common." Even if they call it "cringe." I don't care if you're a comic book villain (I can relate) or you identify as Jesus Christ himself - identity is a complex thing, and kin or not, we're all trying to figure ourselves out. The people who judge you are just like any bully or abuser. They hurt you because they hate themselves. It's cliche, but it's the truth.

I'm 27 years old now, and I am OVER this shit. In July of 2016, years of mild hallucinations/delusions evolved into full-blown schizophrenia... for years, I was on the fringes of the alterhuman community, but it was during a two-year long psychotic episode that I discovered a number of the kintypes that I continue to identify as today - Sunday, May 23rd of 2021.

The "worst" one? The most "cringe?" I occasionally shift into "Dark Knight Joker." I'm not imagining this or trying to be "cool" - in all seriousness, I experience remarkable personality changes. The way I walk changes. The "voice in my head," the voice of my inner monologue changes... and it doesn't matter what you, me, or anyone else thinks about this fictotype - it is what it is. And if you're dealing with a kintype/fictotype that people want you to be ashamed of, that people laugh at to make themselves feel better - fuck 'em.

I see the videos people share on "cringe" subreddits. They HATE us... from the teen wolfkin wearing fingerless gloves and howling out of pure joy to the 30+ year old angel mourning the loss of their heavenly bodies, still trying to make peace with the human in the mirror... vulcan, fae or otherwise, they're going to mock you - and do you want to know why?

Because we're outcasts, and yet we don't hate themselves like they do. They have killed every last inch of themselves to fit in, and it's still not good enough - they still can't stand to even LOOK at themselves, inside or out... if I've learned only one thing in life, it's that most people died a long, long time ago because they were afraid of being alone... afraid of being hurt. Afraid of being rejected.

Please hold your fucking head up high. I'm Joker. I'm a trickster god/alien named Key who hisses and has floppy ears. I'm a "spirit of death" that loves hoarding pretty rocks and talks like an old crone... I'm a coyote. An angel with eyes adorning my arms, from the back of my hands to my shoulders. Sometimes I'm the Crow, still grieving the suicide of my first love... sometimes I don't know who or what I am - but in those moments I feel ALIVE. I'm not ashamed of myself... and whether you're a teenager taking your first steps or a graymuzzle loved all over this little community, you deserve to LOVE yourself - in spite of everything and everyone.

And know this: I love you, too. Love is a hard thing to come by in a world that treats us like we're a joke, like we deserve their laughter and scorn... all for daring to believe in and be something more than human.

And I pray that one day we feel like ourselves again... I don't know about you, but for me this hurts like hell. Stay strong.

- from "The Vague Diaries"

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 7 years

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Resource Management, pt15

Word Count: 2903 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

Erin hadn’t even gone through the stack of paperwork she had dumped on me. I was surprised, to be honest. She was usually a little more diligent when she was turning over assignments. Maybe she was as angry as she appeared. I started flipping through the reports and sorting them according to which form they were. Then I alphabetized them. Then I went back and ordered them numerically, as I realized that we’d switched from names to ID numbers. Once I had everything sorted, I started checking each ID number against the casualty list from the attack and deactivated every report that no longer needed to be assessed. It was late in the afternoon by the time I had got that far. It was boring and thankless, and I needed a break. I poked my head into Erin’s office to see what she was working on.

“Hey, I’m going to run down to Starbucks for a latte. Want anything?” I asked. She looked up and smiled.

“I’ll come with.” She pulled her purse out and followed me out of the office. “How are those reports coming?”

“Erin, you should have told me you were so far behind on them. I could have helped you,” I admonished her. A scowl flashed across her face, but just as quickly vanished. I was sure she was hoping I hadn’t noticed.

“We had a lot come through while you were at the academy. I figured I’d be able to catch it up this week. Until Fury downgraded my clearance,” she grumbled.

“Where have you sent your resume?” I asked. Erin stopped and gave me a look of surprise.

“Oh my god, I was just blowing off steam, Annie!” She exclaimed. “I have no intention of finding another job. I was just pissed off.”

“Could have fooled me,” I commented as we turned into the Starbucks. She fell silent as we stepped in line.

“Do you think I should be looking?” She suddenly asked.

“Well, you’re obviously not happy. Venti non-fat London Fog please.” I handed some cash to the barista, and turned back to Erin. “Maybe you should be looking for somewhere safer.”

“Do you think my job is in jeopardy?” Erin pressed. I accepted my change and looked at her, long and hard. I could feel myself giving the ‘are you an idiot’ face to her.

“Erin, if you don’t follow through with what the director wants, your life may be in jeopardy. Isn’t that more important than a paycheque?” I demanded. “I mean, really. I get that this is not what you signed up for, but we’ve entered an arena now where risk-negation is far more important than personal pride. Don’t you think you’re being a little childish?”

“Wow. Tell me how you really feel,” she snapped as she paid for her coffee. We moved toward the pick up area. I could feel my cheeks flushing and my heart thumping in my chest.

“Okay, I will. I very nearly fucking died last week. I was a target in that attack. Everyone in our department that was at work fucking died except for me. So forgive me if I’m a little sensitive about this, but grow the fuck up. Fury is trying to keep you safe and alive as well as keep SHIELD running. If that means you need to put on a pair of runners and do five K, or take your fucking sidearm to the range and learn to defend yourself, maybe you should. Be more proactive about your personal safety. And if you really don’t want to take those steps, then yes, I think you should be looking for a new job at a different agency,” I retorted. The barista handed my tea across the counter. I snapped a lid on it and walked out, not waiting for Erin.

When I got back to the office, I tossed a ‘do not disturb’ note on the door and shut it before getting back at the stack of reports. I connected my phone to my console and put my favourite playlist on to keep the outside distractions down and then started pounding away at the pile. It shouldn’t have taken Erin more than a few hours to resolve what she’d given me, and I was determined to get it done before I went home. I kept my head down and pushed through, completely losing track of time. There was a tentative knock at my door on the third repeat of the playlist. I looked up as Stark opened the door. I raised an eyebrow at him. Tentative was not in his nature.

“Hey,” I looked back down at the report I was working on as he sat down across from me. He kicked his legs up and crossed his ankles on my desk

“Your receptionist was just locking up when I arrived. She said you haven’t left your office since three.”

“I had a pile of crap dumped on my desk that should have been managed while I was away two weeks ago,” I explained. “It’s been a long day.”

“But Coulson sent hugs and kisses in his text message. You should be all swoony,” he teased. I groaned and opened my phone. I pulled the tracer sticker off and tossed it in the garbage, giving him a smug look.

“Stay out of my text messaging,�� I said, for emphasis. Stark just laughed.

“Where are we going for dinner?” He asked.

“We are going nowhere for dinner, Stark. Anna and I have an actual date. No work tonight.” Phil caught Stark off guard, and Stark rocked back in the chair just enough that he lost his balance. There was some undignified limb flapping, and his feet crashed to the floor before he regained his balance.

“I know when I’m not wanted.” I had to hand it to Stark; he knew how to play the wounded drama queen. He rose and walked to the door, his face a mask of exaggerated sadness. I looked at Phil and back to Stark.

“You are not wanted, Stark. However, I think we should get together tomorrow and go over what we know and what we’ve discovered.” Phil gave Stark the bland smile that I’d learned was his business fuck-off. Stark glanced my way and seeing the set of my jaw, sighed.

“Fine. I’ll bring my secret decoder ring tomorrow and we can find out who’s been stealing the lightbulbs from Old Man Johnson’s backdoor.” He swept out of the office, leaving Phil and I in confused silence. I looked at Phil and back at the door and cracked up. Phil shook his head.

“So tell me about this coded message.” Phil and I were sitting in my living room, eating Thai take-away. I took a big mouthful of noodles and chewed.

“Kate’s grandma called today. She’s Kate’s next of kin,” I started, and took a sip of my beer. “I figured she was calling about Kate’s life insurance, but she wanted to tell me all about this hornet nest she had in her yard years ago. She said something about smoking it, so the hornets left it but were calm, and then setting off a bug bomb, and then burning the nest so they couldn’t come back. I thought she must just have Alzheimer’s or something, but when I looked in Kate’s file, it showed her grandma had been a field agent.”

“What’s Granny’s name?” Phil asked.

“Cecelia Banks,” I answered. Phil choked on a mouthful of Pad Thai. I smacked him on the back and handed him his beer. He took a drink and coughed a couple time to clear his throat.

“Cecelia Banks? Jesus, she’s legendary,” he coughed again. “Her name is constantly being brought up at the academy. She discovered a cell of traitors in the 60s, and she wasn’t sure how deep it went. So she planted false information about a project she was working on to root them out. When she knew the extent of the infiltration, she exposed the works. Basically burned the nest so there was nothing left. That was a fucking brilliant analogy. No wonder they say she was one of the best.”

“How could she possibly know the importance of sharing that story with me?” I puzzled.

“You should go offer your condolences to your friend’s grandmother,” Phil recommended.

“That’s an excellent plan. I’ll see if Barton can meet me earlier tomorrow so I can drive up. She’s in Philly. Think you can get away and join me?” I asked. He nodded.

“Yeah. Fury has asked me to keep an eye on you anyhow.”

“I thought you were the mysterious security detail,” I laughed. “Natasha was quite concerned that she didn’t know who you were.”

“How did that go today?” He asked. I launched into an explanation of my training time, and how incredible Natasha was. I mean, Phil knew what I was talking about, so I really had no need to be so descriptive, but it had been an excellent session, and I could feel the ache settling into my muscles. Natasha was a tough teacher, and was going to challenge me, and I liked that. Phil leaned back on the couch and watched me as I gestured and tried to demonstrate stuff we’d done all alone. The indulgent smile, and loosened tie, combined with his completely relaxed posture and lazy grip on his beer bottle made me stop, midsentence and just look at him. I cocked my head to the side and smiled. He raised his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked. I shook my head and collected our plates and took them into the kitchen and brought us each another beer. I climbed onto the couch beside him and stretched my legs across his lap. He wrapped an arm around my knees as I leaned into his side. When I handed him the beer bottle he smirked.

“I know it’s a little early in the week for a two-beer-evening, but I’m feeling a little less invincible tonight. I feel vincible. Is vincible even a word?” I asked. He laughed and kissed my forehead.

“I’m not sure.” He ran his hand along my bare leg. “Is this what you wore at work today?”

“Yeah. Why?” I started pulling the pins out of my bun and fluffing my hair.

“Complete with your glasses there on your blouse all day?” He nodded toward where my glasses were tugging at the front of my blouse.

“Yeah. Why?” I asked.

“I got a text earlier today asking if Librarian Dominatrix Barbie was my new girlfriend or if it was The Other One.” He put air quotes around Librarian Dominatrix Barbie and The Other One. “I guess Librarian Dominatrix Barbie is my new girlfriend.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or amused. I chose to be amused. It wasn’t the first time I had been compared to Barbie. It wouldn’t be the last. I could be offended every time, and point out the obvious differences: my boobs weren’t that big, my waist wasn’t that small, I wasn’t tall enough, my panties weren’t permanently molded onto my body and I was able to bend at the waist. Or I could roll with it, and let people underestimate me. It was probably to my advantage to let people underestimate me.

“So do I smack you around with a riding crop or a dictionary?” I teased.

“Well, if you have a dictionary, maybe we can look up vincible before you start hitting me,” he chuckled.

“Be forewarned. All my dirty talk tonight will be in words of no fewer than four syllables,” I taunted, whispering in his ear.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever looked forward to castigation and deprivation more.” He leaned across my legs and placed his beer bottle on the table, then took mine and put it beside his. He lifted my legs off his lap and slid across me, pinning me under him on the couch.

“Hey! I’m supposed to be Dominatrix Librarian Barbie. Get off!” I protested. He shook his head and smiled. I briefly considered flipping him off me, but in the end, I let him stay where he was. He was warm, and his hands were rough and it was exactly where I wanted to be after my day.

While Phil was in the shower, I sent a quick email to Erin to let her know I was going to be out of the office for the day. I clicked through the other emails and saw one from Barton in response to my message about changing our training time. I quickly responded by text message to let him know I was available until ten, and by the time I’d hit send, Erin had emailed back, demanding to know why I wasn’t coming in. I opted to phone her instead.

“What the hell, Annie? You chewed me out yesterday and then locked yourself in your office for the rest of the afternoon and now you aren’t coming in today?” She snarled into the phone instead of saying hello.

“One of the casualties from the attack had a dependent grandmother, and she phoned me yesterday. She wasn’t making any sense. I need to go see her to find out what needs to be put in place to ensure her safety. I think she has dementia.” I was not going to rise to the bait.

“And no one else can do that?” The venom was just dripping through the phone at me.

“Considering she called me, I thought it prudent that I check into this myself. If she has some sort of memory loss, it might help to hear my name.” I hoped that made sense. I knew nothing about dementia.

“Fine, whatever. Do whatever you feel prudent, Madam Director.” Her tone was contemptuous. It was time to rise to the bait.

“You know what? Don’t bother coming in today either, Erin. You can take a day without pay for insubordination,” I replied coldly.

“Fuck you. I don’t answer to you. Unless Fury tells me to take the day off, I’m not staying home.” The line went dead.

“That went well,” I sighed.

“What was that about, princess?” An unfamiliar male voice asked from the kitchen door. I dropped the phone and whirled around. It was Barton. How he’d got in was beyond me.

“Jesus Christ, Barton!” I gasped. “You scared the shit out of me.”

I prayed that Phil had head us talking, but I could hear the shower still running. Barton looked through my cupboards for a coffee cup and sat down to drink his coffee. I leaned against the counter, between him and the hall to the bathroom and my bedroom, hoping to somehow intercept Phil before Barton saw him.

“Hey, Annie?” Phil’s voice floated down the hall. “Can you toss my shaving kit to me? I left it at the front door.”

I closed my eyes and fought to keep my face calm. I knew Barton would have noticed the shoes at the door, so he would be expecting my boyfriend. But he knew Phil well, and I was just hoping he wouldn’t recognize his voice. I turned to get the shaving kit from the entry, but when I moved to head down the hall, Barton blocked me, and took the bag from me. Without a word he walked down the hall and knocked on the door. I stood, frozen in place, where he’d left me. Phil opened the bathroom door. Barton dropped the shaving kit into Phil’s hand, turned and walked back to the kitchen. He sat down and looked in his coffee cup and up at me and then back to his coffee cup.

“What’s in my coffee?” He asked.

“Nothing,” I answered. The look on his face made my blood run cold. Barton’s eyes narrowed and he was across the kitchen and had me against the fridge in seconds.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS IN MY COFFEE?” He screamed at me. Phil was in the doorway of the kitchen in a flash, towel around his waist, sidearm drawn and trained on Barton. If I hadn’t been so fucking terrified, I would have laughed. He only had half his face shaved, and the other half was still covered in shaving cream.

“Let go of Director Ellis, Barton,” he ordered. Barton looked at Phil, then at me. He looked back at Phil and his face fell. His grip loosened and he slowly let go of me, without taking his eyes off Phil. I saw a tear snake down his cheek and without realizing what I was doing, I reached out and rubbed his shoulder. He pulled away from me without looking in my direction. Phil lowered his weapon and placed it on the counter beside him. Barton took two steps to cover the distance between them and reached out hand to Phil. Phil, aware of his partial nudity, intercepted the gesture and turned it into a handshake.

“This isn’t the way I would have liked to tell you, Clint, but –“

“Jesus Christ, Phil?” Barton pulled him into a bear hug. Phil looked so incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. He patted Barton’s back stiffly, and then extricated himself from Barton’s arms. He backed up a few steps, grabbed his sidearm and pointed at the bathroom.

“I’m just going to go get dressed. I’m sure you have questions.”

#avengers fanfic #avengers fanfic with OFC #Phil Coulson x OFC

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 7 years

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Resource Management, pt6

Word Count: 2627 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses

If I could make one recommendation to Director Fury about SHIELD it would be to never release employee mortality rates to potential recruits. I didn’t envy him the pile of condolence letters he would be writing. It was bad enough just deactivating the personnel files of the deceased. I saw my name in at least half the files I was working on, which meant I had interacted with each of those victims of the attack on some personal level; I’d either processed their intake paperwork, given them their orientation, or assisted them to navigate through the mysterious coding system for SHIELD paperwork. Each time I recognized a name, my heart tightened.

I was only about a quarter of the way through the first task when I had to take a break. The casualty list was organized numerically by employee ID number. I never knew who was going to come up until I keyed the number into the computer. I was on a roll and picking up speed as the task became more familiar. It sounds like a horrible thing to say, but when you have 300 files to process, you begin to count keystrokes. It took thirteen keystrokes to deactivate a file. And that was only the first part of the process. I still had benefits and insurance to process after each victim was deactivated. So I was focusing on the task at hand, and trying to keep my emotions in check. But when Kate’s name flashed onto the screen, I dropped my coffee cup on the laptop and started crying.

Skye either heard the coffee cup clunk to the floor, or more likely, saw the laptop suddenly drop from the network as my coffee destroyed it. Regardless, she found me, sobbing into my hands. Her small arms wrapped around my back and she nestled into the arm of my chair, stroking my hair and shushing me.

“I can take it from here, Skye,” Phil spoke from behind us, and Skye slipped away. Phil took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Follow me.”

I let Phil lead me back to his office. He sat me down on the couch and poured me a very generous tumbler of whiskey.

“I can ask Fury to farm this work out to another HR branch, Anna.” Phil sat beside me, and rubbed my back. I took one of those deep gasping breaths, trying to regain control. He handed me a handkerchief. It was so out of place, I forgot for a moment that I was upset, and just stared at it. And then in my mind I saw Kate’s face smiling at me from her personnel file, and was flooded with memories of our week at the academy and couldn’t breathe for the tears and sorrow.

I wiped at my tears ineffectively. Phil pulled me into his arms, and continued rubbing my back.

“I’m sorry,” I managed, between gulps of air. I was beginning to feel like I could fight the tears, fight the sobs that were wracking my body. I fought to steady my breathing. It was to be an on-going battle, I would breathe normally for a moment, then those galloping gasps would hit me again.

“Who?” He didn’t say anything else, but I knew what he was asking.

“Kate.”

“Your partner in crime from last week? Christ, I’m sorry, Anna.” He looked down at me, and brushed a tear away with his thumb. I found the tumbler in my hand and took a long pull from the glass, savouring the burn as it coiled down to my belly. I mostly felt numb, but the liquor was a welcome reminder that I was, at least, still alive. I tossed back the rest of the glass, and slammed it onto the coffee table.

“Who did this?” I asked. “Was it HYDRA?”

“At this point, that is our belief,” He nodded. I looked around for tissue and realized I was going actually have to use the hanky to blow my nose. I stuffed it in my pocket and felt a cold rage descend over me. I stood up, smoothed my shirt, and pulled my hair over my shoulder.

“I think I wrecked that laptop. Is there another one I can use?” I asked. I still sounded tearful, like I might start crying again without notice, but I knew I was ready to get back at my duties.

“Anna, I can talk to Fury about someone a little more distant from this taking this task over,” Phil offered. I looked him dead in the eye.

“No. I knew these people. I worked with them. I may not be in operations, and I may not be able to stop HYDRA, but I can data-process the fuck out of their files so their families don’t have to suffer any more than they already are going to.” I squared my shoulders and managed a weak smile. Phil nodded.

“You’re a warrior, Anna. Just a different brand than me.” He stepped in and pulled me into his arms.

“I’m soft, and weak,” I sniffled, disagreeing.

“No. You’re capable, and intelligent. And you are strong. Did you have any idea how well you tested last week? On the range and the track, you showed the most improvement. You might not be an agent, Anna, but you could have been, had SHIELD steered you that way when you were hired.” Phil held my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. I broke away, my eyes filling with tears.

“It doesn’t matter,” I shrugged. “I’m going to find Skye, and get back to work.”

I walked out of Phil’s office and back down to the lounge. Skye had the laptop open and was mopping up the coffee before she attempted to repair the damage I’d done. At least, that’s what it looked like. She heard my approach and looked up at me, giving me a kind smile. Her eyes shone with empathy, and as I felt mine beginning to fill again, I looked away and swallowed the lump in the throat.

“I killed it, right?” I asked.

“I think so,” she nodded toward the pile of damp towels on the floor beside her. “Gives you an excuse to farm this out to someone else.”

“I can’t. A lot of those casualties are my staff. I owe it to their families to get their paperwork in order as soon as I can. Survivor benefits can make a huge difference in those first few months.” I dropped my butt onto the coffee table.

“I’ll grab you another laptop then, and get you connected to the network.” She hopped up without another word and disappeared momentarily, reappearing with another laptop that she opened and started fiddling with. She handed it over to me, and I moved to the table I’d been working at and logged in, bringing Kate’s file back up on the screen. I worked through it quickly, and noted her next-of-kin was a grandmother. I keyed the address into my phone, making a note in my calendar to send a card. I slogged through to the halfway point before I needed to get up and stretch. Skye had been working on something sprawled out on the couch and she popped to her feet and headed to the galley. She came back carrying sandwiches for both of us, and fresh coffee.

“Just finish it before you go back to work, okay?” She teased. I felt myself blushing and smiled despite it.

“I promise I won’t destroy any more computers.” I held up three fingers, like a Girl Guide. The sandwich was amazing. It was some sort of ham and cheese but it was incredible. I wanted to make happy eating noises, it was that good.

“How’s the sandwich?” She asked, as she started her second half. She looked up and saw mine was completely gone and started laughing. “That good?”

“I think I need a cigarette,” I groaned. “That was a damn sexy sandwich.”

“You should tell Simmons, she made them. And Fitz, actually. It’s his favourite. Let me see if I can remember. Prosciutto and Buffalo Mozza with some sort of aioli.” She closed one eye and scrunched up her face, her open eye looking up, as though she were actually trying to extract information from her brain.

“Pesto. I’m sure it’s pesto,” I offered.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, and took another bite of her sandwich. “Listen, you said that those personnel files need to be completed as soon as possible for benefits. Can I help you? I’m a pretty quick study on a computer,” she winked. I sat back and drank my coffee, a bit blindsided by the offer.

“You don’t have something better to do?” I asked.

“Not right now,” she shook her head.

“I think I would really appreciate the help, Skye. Thanks.” I finished by coffee and took my dishes back to the galley.

The afternoon sped by, as they always do when there is too much to do, and Skye wasn’t just being a smart-ass when she said she was a quick study. I expected her to be quick on the uptake with regards to the computer skills required to deactivate personnel files, but the stepping-stones through the process required a bit of a flowchart approach. She picked that up quickly as well, and was a huge help. We finished the last of the files late in the evening, opting to skip dinner to get gone.

“Thanks again, Skye.”

“I’m glad I could help, Anna.” She stepped behind me and rubbed at the knot in my neck. “This would have been brutal for you to manage on your own, while you’re grieving for team members.”

“Just one thing.” I relaxed against her hands. “I can’t let anyone know you helped. Your security clearance isn’t high enough.”

“I know.”

“So I owe you something fantastic,” I smiled.

“Just treat A.C. good, okay?” She asked. I laughed and looked at her with a smirk.

“Well, that benefits me as well, Skye. Of course,” I winked. She dropped her hands from my neck and gave me a light swat on the shoulder.

“Gross, Anna!” She protested. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Director Fury is asking to speak with you.” Ward leaned out of the command centre while I ate my very-late dinner. I brought my plate with me.

“Ellis, you did a lot of work today.” Fury’s eyebrow was quirked. I swallowed my mouthful and put my plate down on the furthest surface I could find from anything electronic.

“I’m efficient,” I offered.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe you deactivated and processed benefits and insurance for over 300 people today?” He asked.

“I finished everyone marked deceased on the casualty lists. You should have pending approval notifications for each file. I will start on the injured tomorrow,” I clarified. “And any updates to the casualty lists, of course.”

“How did you get through that many files, Ellis?” He demanded.

“Skye got me set up with a blazing fast network speed, and I spent my entire day doing it. I stopped for 45 minutes to eat lunch,” I lied. Fury blinked slowly, but said nothing. I knew he was going to continue to say nothing because it was a classic interrogation technique. Wait until the guilty party blurts out the truth. Wasn’t going to happen.

“I would like to see a complete restructure of Human Resources once we are back online, Ellis. Starting with your promotion to director of the department,” he finally spoke.

“I’ll give it some thought,” I responded.

“I know you are not an agent, Ellis, but this is an order. It’s not optional.” Fury was more tense than usual. Understandably. I nodded.

“Fine, but I want my thoughts considered on this restructuring,” I bargained.

“That’s why I want you in the position, Ellis,” he barked. “I spent the better part of today securing office space for your department. There will be significantly less space, which means a smaller department. Agent Coulson will be bringing you in day after tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.” I think every person who ever interacted with Fury knew better than to argue once a certain tone entered his voice. He’d hit that point. I turned to retrieve my dinner and leave the command centre.

“One last thing, Ellis,” Fury stopped me. “Tony Stark was asking for an update on you. I assured him you are fine, but as I am sure you are aware, Mr. Stark doesn’t always see eye to eye with me. I suspect he is probably trying to track your whereabouts.”

“Why does he care?” I asked, to no one in particular.

“Regardless, Ellis, being on that airborne mobile command is compromising Agent Coulson’s cover.”

“With all due respect, sir, it’s a fucking miracle that Stark hasn’t already hacked our computers and seen Agent Coulson’s personnel file is still active,” I retorted.

“Ward, May, can you give Agent Coulson, Ellis and I a moment?” Fury asked. The two senior agents slipped from the command centre. Coulson stepped beside me after sliding the partition shut.

“Sir?” He asked.

“I am willing to overlook whatever it is you two are up to. For now. SHIELD protocols exist for a reason. If you flaunt your relationship, or it compromises security in any way, I will separate you. Permanently,” Fury began. I looked down at the console and back up again, waiting for him to continue.

“Sir, I’ve already given up one life for SHIELD. I’m not about to be told how to live this second one.” Phil’s voice was steady, but I could see a slight tremor in his hand. He was angry.

“Then make sure you don’t need to be told,” Fury snapped. “Ellis, what the hell is the story with Stark? Why the hell was he even in the building?”

“He was in a harassment seminar during the attack. He called the suit, and flew me to safety before he went back in to see who else he could save,” I explained.

“He’ll be in your new office at 0900 on Thursday morning. Coulson, you are not to walk her to the door.” He reached forward and the picture cut out, ending the transmission. I looked at Phil and smiled.

“I had a sandwich today that may have been better than sex,” I teased. One corner of his mouth tilted up.

“It wasn’t.” There was no change to his tone, but his eyes lit up, taking on a mercenary look.

“No? It was pretty amazing. It had pesto aioli.” I held up my hands, imitating a scale. He leaned close, his lips at my ear.

“I have nothing to prove,” he whispered, enunciating each word clearly. I leaned toward his ear, sliding my hands under his lapels.

“Pesto aioli,” I whispered back. I stepped back, winked at him and slapped his ass on my way out of the command centre. I stopped part way through the door, leaned back and grabbed my dinner. I’d forgotten that the command centre was walled in with clear glass, and when I looked up, Skye was biting her knuckles to stop herself from laughing.

“What the hell did you just say?” She was staring into the command centre. I turned and saw Phil glaring at me. We’d been on the plane together for over 24 hours and had barely had a moment alone. I was pretty sure he was as frustrated as I was. I’d spent most of the afternoon avoiding him, rather than fighting my need to drag him up to his bed every time I saw him.

“He’s jealous about the sandwich.” I blew him a kiss and sat down to finish my dinner.

#avengers fanfic #avengers fanfic with OFC #Phil Coulson x OFC

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