#shield au

This is an alternate universe story set in 1899, near the end of the Gilded Age, in New York City. It is a time that appears to be prosperous, as economic expansion grows the economy, leading to better wages and a demand for skilled labourers, drawing immigrants from all over. But this time also has dark shadows. It is described by Mark Twain as an era of materialistic excess, combined with political corruption. Just as there are villains, there are heroes, the famed Avengers of the Society of Heroic Individuals and Estimable Lofty Deeds, or SHIELD.

Part 1 – Introductions all Around

The hansom cab pulled up in front of the large stone building in the heart of New York City, and a door attendant came straight over to it, opening the door then pulling out the fold out step. Inside the cab, Amelia Winston rose, then grasped the gloved hand of the door attendant, nodding at him as he helped her out onto the street.

"Go right on in, Miss Winston," he said calmly. "Mrs. Stark is waiting for you."

"Thank you," she replied as she turned towards the door while the door attendant called for another to help him with her luggage.

Inside, the ornate lobby of the Society of Heroic Individuals and Estimable Lofty Deeds, also known as SHIELD, drew Amelia's attention, as the gilded columns that surrounded the space seemed to reach high up into the heart of the building. The gold reflected the light that came through the almost cathedral-like windows, the beams of sunlight illuminating the mosaic marble tiled floor with a grandeur she had never seen before. The thought occurred to Amelia that surely this initial entry into the building would make anyone feel heroic and capable of great deeds, not just the individuals who resided here.

"It is impressive, is it not?" asked a female voice and she turned to see an elegant blonde woman approaching her.

Her fine state of dress was exquisitely made and obviously exclusive, but the manner in which Virginia Stark extended her bare hand was familiar and Amelia withdrew the glove from her right hand, extending it to Mrs. Stark. They stood together in the lobby, still gazing upwards as the two doormen brought in the last of Amelia's luggage. Mrs. Stark glanced at the one man, the one who had come out to greet the cab.

"Hogan, please make sure Miss Winston's luggage is taken to her suite on the 17th floor," she said. "I'll give her the tour." He touched his cap and directed the younger man with him to fetch a dolly. Mrs. Stark linked her arm with Amelia's then strode towards a more central location inside the building, where a large fountain, it's water streams caught in the beams of light from the windows, glistened. "Anthony installed this as a wedding present, to remind him of the day he proposed. We were on a mission in Chicago, when a bomb exploded on a water main, sending streams of water into the air. It was destructive in its beauty, and he just turned to ask if perhaps we should get married upon our return. I couldn't say no."

"Do you still go on missions?"

"Occasionally, when the situation warrants it, but Anthony requires someone he can trust to manage the affairs of the Society as well as his own personal empire in his absence. I'm it, but we have no rules about married woman resigning from active service so if you happen to find a connection with one of our gentlemen heroes that leads to matrimony, your future roll will be decided by you and him. They are used to having female colleagues in the field, so most should be amenable if you wish to continue your career as one of our heroic individuals."

"Even though my position is librarian?"

"You never know," smiled Mrs. Stark. "Sometimes we need someone that looks the part to play the part. Plus, it is in your contract that you may be required to perform other tasks as needed. We would never knowingly put you in danger, please be assured of that."

She showed Amelia the other parts of the lobby, the small kiosks that provided services, a shoeshine station, newspaper emporium, a small store that provided sundry needs and necessities, as well as a restaurant that seemed to have many people entering it from a separate street level door. Pausing at the elevator, she pressed the button to bring one of the cars down, then smiled at the elevator operator as he pulled the sliding grate out of the way. Mrs. Stark asked for the top floor, the 21st. Along the way up the car stopped several times, and Mrs. Stark greeted everyone who stepped on by name, proving her talent as a capable manager, as all seemed pleased at her notice. After the last of those individuals, including the elevator operator, stepped off before the 17th floor, she leaned closed and murmured into Amelia's ear.

"Only those in the Avenger service, and certain staff, are permitted beyond the 16th floor. Since many of our heroic individuals have unique abilities, we protect their privacy in the residential area. Anything you see, hear, or experience here is to be kept to yourself as part of your contract. Failure to do so can result in immediate dismissal."

When the elevator car opened on the 21st floor she opened the sliding grate herself, then the outer doors, allowing Amelia to exit first. Leaving the elevator as it was Mrs. Stark stepped forward and led the younger woman to a large open area, punctuated only by a few pillars. On one side was a doorway to another wing, containing the Stark residence, a fully self-contained suite. This side had a view of New York that was breathtaking, as one could see out over both the Hudson and East Rivers. Handsome leather club chairs and sofas punctuated the area, interspersed with small decorative palm plants, side tables, and off to the side a large billiard table. Along one wall was an impressive display of books, with several tables with bankers' lamps on them, presumably for someone to perform research at night. Another wall contained a large bar, backed with many bottles of fine liqueurs, wine, and even a beer dispenser. It was done in a most elegant and civilized way. A piano in another corner hinted at the possibility of performances. Next to it, a dart board promised some competitive activities.

"This is where most of the Avengers come to relax after a mission or between missions," said Mrs. Stark. "It can get quite lively in here. Some are quite happy to quietly imbibe a spirit, gazing out the window at the landscape, while others seek something more active. Many undertake their own research, using the library here. You, being the librarian, will be responsible for the care of these books, as well as those on the 16th floor, a more extensive collection, which is why you have been given Avengers status for access to this floor."

"It seems to be very quiet right now," Amelia ventured.

"They are on a mission," answered Mrs. Stark. She checked a pocket watch that she pulled out of a small pocket in her skirt. "I expect their return after dark. Now, let me show you your apartment."

They re-entered the elevator, and Mrs. Stark, once again pulled the sliding grate back, then pressed the 17th floor button. When they exited the car, Amelia was surprised to see another open area immediately in front of the elevator core. There was a small kitchen area, as well as a dining room, sitting room, and a large room that seemed to have several projects going on at once.

"The Avengers have various personal interests," said Mrs. Stark. "Captain Rogers is an accomplished artist, while Dr. Banner has several different interests, including gardening, chemistry, and astronomy. Sergeant Barnes shares the astronomy space with him, but is also inclined to tinker with engines, although that is down in the basement due to the noise and smells. Anthony often joins him there. They can talk for hours on mechanical subjects. Miss Maximoff is a musician, while her beau Vision is attempting to learn the culinary arts. Mademoiselle Romanoff is a student of fashion and has worked on making appropriate attire for our female operatives that allows them greater freedom of movement in the field, while maintaining their femininity. If there is anything you are interested in, please pass it on to Jarvis, the concierge. He will go to the ends of the earth to acquire your needs."

"Those you just named are also residents on this floor?" asked Amelia.

"Yes, in fact, your apartment is between Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers." She stopped at a door, then showed how they didn't use a lock and key. Instead, there was a rolling dial, with three columns. Stark showed how the three numbers were selected then listened as the locks disengaged. "Only you, I and Hogan know the combination. I know it so that if there is ever an emergency we can enter. Whether you share that number with anyone else is your choice. We do respect your privacy and expect the same from you."

Pressing the door open, Amelia walked into a suite unlike any she had ever lived in. The furniture was well appointed, without appearing too opulent or gaudy. Her sitting room promised many hours of quiet reading, knitting, or crocheting, and she realized that she could even start some other hobbies that she had considered, like needlework, flower drying, and philately. Hogan had correctly determined which of her cases held her own personal book collection, as it was placed next to a sizeable bookshelf, positioned behind a wide desk. The rest of her luggage, containing her clothes was in her bedroom, placed beside the large wardrobe. The bathroom alone, comprised of a separate toilet in a small room, sink, large vanity and claw foot bathtub, that also contained a shower, was almost as large as Amelia's previous flat in Chicago.

"This is more than I anticipated," she exclaimed to Mrs. Stark. "Are you sure it isn't an imposition to have me live here?"

"No, it is more efficient, considering the nature of our vocations," said the blonde woman. "There may be times when you are roused from sleep to undertake some last-minute research on a location, or a certain segment of the population to prepare the Avengers for their mission. Having you on-site means you can dispense with having to get fully dressed." Amelia's eyes widened. "I meant that in the sense you wouldn't have to wear a corset or even a full sleeved blouse, which you don't have to anyway if you're more comfortable not wearing them. You can wear more practical clothing that takes moments to don and be at your desk quickly. Our society in this building is quite modern in temperament and liberated for 1899, Miss Winston. Suffragette is not an unpleasant word in these confines."

With that last pronouncement, Mrs. Stark left Amelia to commence unpacking, inviting the younger woman to join her for dinner at 7 pm, sharp. Putting her mind to the task, Amelia was fully unpacked well before 6 pm, leaving her enough time to bathe then dress appropriately for dinner. After summoning the elevator, she entered the empty car, copying the motions that Mrs. Stark had performed earlier, then pressed the button for the 21st floor. There was no one present but the door into the Stark residence was open, so Amelia walked towards it, only to be almost bowled over by a small dark-haired girl, running out without looking where she was going.

"Morgan H. Stark, you come back, please," called Mrs. Stark from within the apartment.

The little girl stopped suddenly in front of the visitor, who spoke first.

"Hello, my name is Amelia Winston and I've been invited for dinner. Who might you be?"

"Morgan Stark," she replied. "I live here. Are you the new librarian?"

"I am." She looked up at the doorway. "Perhaps, you could escort me in and announce my presence?"

A grin crossed Morgan's face and she held up her hand. "Okay." Leading her inside she took the young woman into the sitting room. "Mama, I am announcing Amelia Winston, the new librarian."

"You have met our little cyclone," smiled Mrs. Stark. "Thank you, Morgan, for your excellent introduction. Now, if you would be so kind as to wash your hands, I think you can join us, if you're on your best behaviour."

A maid appeared and escorted Morgan to perform her ablutions.

"She is very spirited," noted Amelia. "You have only the one child?"

"Yes, thus far," smiled Mrs. Stark. "Please come in."

They sat in the sitting room, chatting until the reappearance of Morgan, who had also had some repair work done to the ribbons in her hair. With her appearance, Mrs. Stark advised the maid to let the cook know they were ready to eat, and she led the way to the dining room. The grand room, with doors to both the apartment and shared common area, centred by a table large enough for twenty, was richly decorated, with paintings, small statuary and thick damask curtains on the windows. The table, set for three, was oak, stained almost black and buffed to a high shine. It was both impressive and its chairs comfortable to sit at, as Mrs. Stark kept up a commentary of the origins of much of the furniture while the entrée was served. It seemed that many countries and rulers were indebted to the society for their services, feeling the need to provide some recompense in the form of unique furniture or other gifts.

"Now mind you, the gifts we received from the head chief of a tribe in British New Guinea, aren't exactly meant for regular company. When you explore your domain, you will find the artifacts catalogued in the collection of religious icons." She leaned over and whispered. "Skulls, as the tribe were still engaging in ritual cannibalism at the time. They are probably our most unusual "payment," but they were appreciative of our work on their behalf."

The subsequent conversation was just as engaging as that fact shared with Amelia and she found herself enjoying the company immensely. When dinner was finished, and while Morgan was prepared for her bedtime, the two women sat in comfortable chairs, overlooking the south end of Manhattan. The view of the streets below, lit by a combination of gas and electric lamps was breathtaking. After they finished their tea, and Morgan came out to say goodnight to Amelia, Mrs. Stark also bid her goodnight, as she always read her daughter a story and tucked her in for bed. It was a genial way to end the evening.

Back in her suite, Amelia disrobed, then washed her face and neck in the bathroom. Her hair was let down, and she brushed its long length before plaiting it into a single braid. Slipping into a cotton nightgown, she then turned down the bed, and after making sure the door was locked and windows secure, got under the covers and turned off the electric lamp at the side of the bed. Her heart was full of both hope and ambition that this position would be fulfilling for a young woman graduate of Chicago's Armour Institute library program, completing her formal education just two years before. Now, here she was, on the cusp of the next century, the head researcher, curator, and librarian of the Society of Heroic Individuals and Estimable Lofty Deeds, along with other tasks not yet specified. Life was truly exciting.

A slip of paper placed under Amelia's door before she woke up in the morning, invited her to dine with the others for breakfast, in the large dining room on the 21st floor, at precisely 9 am. Wrapping her hair up in a turban, Amelia tried out the bathtub, amazed at the water pressure coming out of the tap at this high floor level. After bathing and putting on her undergarments she decided to take Mrs. Stark at her word, and dispensed with her strongest corset, instead using one that she often used when on vacation with her family. It didn't interfere with her breathing, and she had accomplished several hikes in the mountains of Colorado without difficulty. She put on a white blouse, cut in a close-fitting shirtwaist style, then draped her favourite necklace over it, a silver locket pendant given to her by her father when she graduated from high school. Her petticoats and skirt were stepped into, and she buttoned the opening then fastened a beaded belt at the waist. Twisting her hair into a loose chignon, and fastening it with several long hair pins, she pinched her cheeks and admired her figure in the mirror. Finally, she placed a small dab of her perfume, Cœur de Jeannette, behind her ears. At least she would look nice and smell good for this first meeting with the others.

When she stepped out of her apartment, she noticed several individuals were already gathered in the sitting area. They all rose when she made her exit out of her suite. One of them, a beautiful red-headed woman approached her eagerly.

"At last, you must be Miss Winston," smiled the woman. "I am Natasha Romanoff, code name Black Widow. Please call me by my first name, as I know we will be great friends."

"Very well, call me Amelia." She shook Natasha's hand, then looked past her to the others, who were approaching.

"Amelia Winston," repeated Natasha, "may I introduce you to Wanda Maximoff, code name Scarlet Witch, her beau, Vision, whose name is his code name, Captain Rogers, who everyone knows as Captain America, Samuel Wilson, known as The Falcon, and Clint Barton, known as Hawkeye, who is my fiancé. The others are still to appear."

She looked at them in turn, the petite and incredibly beautiful Wanda seemed younger than her, while her beau Vision, a tall blond man with a serious air seemed older and more reserved by the formality of his greeting. Captain Rogers was everything she ever imagined from the drawn images of him in the newspapers; tall, handsome, broad-shouldered and sporting a short haircut that seemed to be somewhat unruly as a shock of it draped itself over his forehead. His blue eyes twinkled as he shook her hand.

"It's a pleasure, Miss Winston," he said. "I've been fortunate to see some of your published sketches of your hiking trip in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. You must be an accomplished hiker and mountaineer to have ascended the heights you did."

"Thank you, it was quite an accomplishment, considering I had been limiting myself to less extreme terrain before," she replied. "We had excellent guides and the presence of my father and brother added to the enjoyment."

Another handsome man stuck his hand out, repeating the introduction of himself as Sam Wilson. She detected an accent of the south in his speech and commented on it, to which he admitted coming from Louisiana.

"So, by your code name are you a falconer, Mr. Wilson?" she asked. "It is a noble profession with centuries of history behind it."

"I do have falcons," he admitted. "But I am also the person who wears one of Mr. Stark's newest inventions, a flying suit. So far, I haven't used it on missions, but I will soon, once I become more skilled at it."

Mr. Barton, or Hawkeye was also friendly, admitting that he acquired his archery skills in a circus, then spent several years portraying one of Sitting Bulls braves in a Wild West show. That was where he met Natasha, an aerialist originally, who picked up other skills such as trick shooting, and trick riding.

"I didn't feel right portraying one of the Sioux, since, let's face it, I don't exactly look the part, but my skill was archery and that is where the owner of the show wanted me. Then I met Natasha, and we learned of SHIELD recruiting skilled individuals as part of their operations. It seemed tailor-made for us. We've been with the society for five years now."

"I am just excited to be here, in New York, working and living in the same building," said Amelia. "Your exploits are in all the newspapers."

"Our very exaggerated exploits," joked Captain Rogers. He checked his pocket watch. "We should go on up otherwise we'll all be tardy."

He offered Amelia his arm and they stepped into the elevator together. The others joined them and within moments they were at the penthouse level. As they stepped out, Anthony Stark came forward, his eyes only on the librarian.

"Miss Winston, it is a great pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," he said, extending his hand to shake hers. "I've heard much about you from my daughter."

"All of it good, I hope, Mr. Stark," she replied, blushing.

"Very much so." He stepped aside then checked his pocket watch. "Come, we're still expecting Dr. Banner and Sergeant Barnes. The brothers have gone to see their father and will return later this afternoon."

"Parker?" asked Captain Rogers. "He was worried about his aunt when we arrived late last night."

"You're right, I believe he has taken the subway to Queens to be with her." He leaned towards Amelia. "I've offered her an apartment here many times so that Parker isn't so worried about her, but she insists she's fine there." He shrugged. "I won't stop asking but it isn't only his aunt who draws his attention away from our domicile."

The sound of the elevator doors opening, presaged the arrival of others. Since it was impolite for Amelia to turn, she waited until the late arrivals presented themselves. The first, a rather rumpled looking man with a thick shock of greying hair and glasses, introduced himself as Dr. Bruce Banner.

"You are the scientific and medical consultant for the society?" asked Amelia, as that is what she had read in the newspapers.

He nodded uneasily. "Partly. I also have another role that is kept secret from the public." He looked to Anthony Stark who raised his eyebrows as if to say it was the doctor's decision to elaborate. "Are you familiar with the tale The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?" Amelia nodded, slightly puzzled at the reference to the famous novel. "As part of my scientific endeavours I was exposed to a substance that turns me into another being, a frightening vision. You've no doubt heard of the rumours of a giant of a man, with green skin and a frightening personality who has appeared at several incidents where the Avengers are present. He is me and I am him. If you ever encounter him, I bid that you do not panic. He is fairly friendly with the others, and Mademoiselle Romanoff has been able to soothe the beast within me with her words so that he settles down."

"Is there no cure for your malady?" asked Amelia, her heart affected that this obviously gentle man was afflicted with such a fearsome condition.

"Alas, no, I have tried many times to develop a cure. I thank you for your concern."

He bowed and stepped away, having dealt with that pronouncement. It was then the last person who arrived stepped into view and Amelia thought her heart would stop at the sight of the tall, handsome man before her.

"Amelia Winston, may I present Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes," stated Captain Rogers. "He is my longest and closest friend as we have been like brothers since we were boys."

"Miss Winston," he stated, in a low melliferous voice that noticeably quickened her heartbeat. "A pleasure."

"For me also, Sergeant Barnes," she stammered, taken in by his blue eyes, dark hair and impressive physique.

It was only then she noticed she was still holding his right hand and let it go, blushing at the same time. A hint of a smile crossed his face as he gazed down at her, for truly his imposing height would have him looking down on most individuals. He bowed his head slightly and stepped aside, allowing Captain Rogers to escort her to the dining room. When everyone was seated, she was placed between Anthony Stark and Captain Rogers, with Mrs. Stark facing her. Sergeant Barnes was several seats down the table beside Samuel Wilson, who leaned towards his seat mate and murmured something before gesturing towards her. Barnes glanced at Amelia and smiled slightly, then placed his napkin on his lap, awaiting the service of the food.

The quality of the breakfast food was excellent, as it appeared that Mr. Stark was emphatic on providing a fine meal at his table. The conversation also flowed well, and many interesting topics of conversation were discussed, except for politics and religion. Partway through the meal a gentleman staff member, Jarvis, based on the whispers of his name when he appeared, dressed in full morning dress stood at Mr. Stark's side, presenting him with a slip of paper. He read the slip then nodded his head and continued to eat. Although the others looked at him questioningly it was obvious that he wasn't going to let anything interfere with his enjoyment of the meal. After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, Anthony Stark finally picked up his napkin, dabbed it to his lips and looked out over the assembled Avengers.

"It appears that HYDRA is up to their old tricks," he said. "Secretary Fury has advised me there are cryptographic messages between several of their operatives in several different New York newspapers. Miss Winston, how are your cryptographic skills?"

"A little rusty, sir, but I'm sure that I'll be up to speed in a short time. Do we have microfilm copies of the newspapers in our collection? I haven't had a chance to get acquainted with our library yet."

Stark smiled. "Of course, we have files for up to a week ago on microfilm, with paper copies since then. Is anyone free to assist Miss Winston in gathering the intelligence and decoding the cryptograms?"

"I can," stated Sergeant Barnes. "I cleaned my weapons on my return last night and need only 15 minutes to prepare to leave."

"Very well," stated Rogers. "Everyone else, check your weapons and supplies. We meet here in three hours for a briefing."

Captain Rogers pulled out Amelia's chair and she hurried to the elevator, accompanied by Sergeant Barnes. As he closed the doors and pressed the button for the 16th floor, he looked grimly at the young librarian.

"Sergeant Barnes, forgive my ignorance, but who is HYDRA?"

He breathed out sharply then studied her in that inscrutable way he had. "Trouble."

Part 2>>

Series Masterlist

Pierce turned his office chair to the skyline view of LA. “Mr. Rogg may have a special opportunity for us. A mission only I can complete. And I’d like your assistance, if you don’t mind a little field work. We’ll have to get you a new uniform, of course.”

“A uniform, sir?”

Pierce chuckled. “Shopping, Ms. Romanov. Something that you can travel in. Put it on your company card.” He winked. He often referred to the agency as his “company”—a habit that secretly grated on everyone’s nerves.

“Thank you, sir. You know how we girls love our shopping.” A more perceptive man would have caught her playing directly into his bias, but Pierce’s ego was too inflated this close to victory.

Pierce turned to her and stood. “I have one more task for you, Ms. Romanov. There’s a new enhanced recruit downstairs. Carol Danvers. We will need her on this mission as well.”

Natasha feigned concern. “A recruit, sir? Has she even completed her field testing?”

Before Pierce could answer, his computer dinged with a notification. “Ah. Mr. Rogg is heading over early. Fetch Ms. Danvers and send her up before he arrives, won’t you? We’ll meet for an initial briefing in one hour.”

Natasha turned to leave, stomach knotting with anxiety about the rushed timeline but outwardly as cool as a cucumber.

“Oh and Ms. Romanov?” he paused as Natasha turned back to face him. “Just tell her I have picked her for this mission on her demonstrated merits and accomplishments under Agent May’s guidance. No reason to bring Mr. Rogg into this; it’ll just confuse her. I’ll explain all she needs to know in the mission briefing.”

Natasha nodded in obedience. “Yes, sir.

“One hour, back here, field work ready.”

“Yes, sir.” Nastasha set off in the direction of the elevators down to the training center, but she made a pit stop at Phil’s floor first. She knocked at his office door.

“Come in!” he called. “Ah, Agent Romanov, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Phil wore his reading glasses and a plaid shirt, with a navy blazer draped across the back of his chair. Typing away at his computer like that, he almost looked like an average history professor rather than a chief strategist at an intelligence agency so secret that even other intelligence agencies considered it an enigma.

“Director Fury would like to see you in his office. Something about Project Pegasus. I think its planning deadline is coming up soon.”

Pegasus was their code word for their effort to protect Carol, namely because she could fly in ways others could only dream of. If Natasha or the others heard of Yon-Rogg and Pierce putting their kidnapping plan into motion, or any danger to Carol, they could work the code word into the conversation and meet in their secure conference room.

“Thanks, I’ll head up. Oh, and have you seen my daughter around today?”

Natasha frowned. “Sorry, I haven’t seen her. If I do, I’ll send her your way.”

In other words, Skye didn’t know that Pierce was on the move to take Carol. With luck, Skye would be at the training center with Melinda, Carol, and the enhanced recruits, but between her status as an enhanced agent and as a cybersecurity prodigy, Skye could feasibly be working anywhere in the building.

Phil typed on his computer. “Thanks. She is definitely around here somewhere according to her phone location.”

Natasha smirked and leaned against his doorframe. “Be honest, did you ever put a tracker on her before she worked here with a Shield phone? Or get tempted to?”

Phil relaxed for a moment and chuckled with fatherly affection. “Oh yeah, I wanted to. From the day she arrived. She was always running off after her own curiosity and wonder, faster than we could keep up. Given how she arrived, though, Melinda thought it was too much of a risk, in case someone came looking and hacked the tracker.”

“Wise woman.” Natasha stood up straight. “I better get going, Agent Pierce has a visitor arriving soon. In about an hour, I’m supposed to find out my first field assignment.”

“Ah. Good luck.” Phil understood exactly what she meant. In reality, of course, Natasha had more field experience than nearly anyone, but coded as office chit-chat for the sake of anyone who might be listening or simply overhearing, she was giving him the urgency of the timeline for their plan.

“Thanks. See you around.”

As soon as she was gone, she knew, he’d head to the secret conference room. She just had to get to Melinda and Carol before Yon-Rogg arrived. If Pierce planned to take her to space with him as his assistant, she’d have to show unwavering loyalty to go along with her undercover ruse so she could keep Carol safe and return her to Earth. The point of Project Pegasus, however, was that it didn’t get that far, metaphorically and astronomically.

—---------

Natasha changed clothes into more flexible material, and she alerted Melinda and Carol that it was go time. With Melinda’s clearance level, they were able to bypass all other floors on the elevator ride up from the training center to the secret conference room. Skye was waiting for them with Phil and Maria Rambeau when they arrived.

“This isn’t going to work.” Carol fiddled with the communications equipment Fitz had brought in. “I don’t know the codewords they are using to verify their identities, and they are already waiting for us for the mission briefing.”

Fury and Maria Hill popped up on the conference room screen. Fury announced, “I have a plan B if you’re taking suggestions.”

           Roman grinned as he leaned over and bumped me in the side of the head gently. “He’s too much of a coward to say it to your face.”

           “I mean, in his own asshole way he was trying to be a good guy,” Dean added. “He’s an ass, and he thought leaving might be the best way to do it.”

           “Tell us the truth,” Roman continued, leaning over toward me. “How do you feel about Seth? Honestly?

           My heart ached. For a moment, I thought back to when Roman asked me the exact same question in that locker room last semester. How just the thought of wanting someone else when I had such a wonderful guy like Roman was enough to make me hate myself. Now I had Dean, too. I wondered anew if there was something wrong with me. Why couldn’t I be satisfied with Roman? Why was I so selfish?

           “Hey, princess,” Dean said, taking my chin between his finger and thumb so that I had to look at him. “I know that look. Stop it right there.”

           “Guys, I—”

           Dean shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with you. How many times do I have to tell you that? Do we have to?”

           Roman slipped his arm around my back and pressed a series of soft kisses against my temple. “You are who you are, baby girl, and we love you. It doesn’t bother me that you love Dean, too. Or that you might feel something for Seth. You’ve never been anything but honest with me. Be honest with yourself.”

           I closed my eyes and sighed. “I feel like… you should be enough. Ro, you should have been enough. Dean would have been enough. The two of you together should be more than enough. But I feel like… like there’s something off inside me. Something horribly selfish.”

           “Addy, some people love differently than others,” Roman soothed. His fingers swept up and down my back in calming strokes. “You love so much it isn’t enough for just one person. And being with you like this has made me better friends with Dean. We’re closer because of loving you.”

           I reached out and took their hands in mine, pulling them onto my lap. Quiet settled as we looked out over the valley below. I tried to make sense of how I felt about all of this. I loved Roman and Dean more than I could have imagined I’d love a single person. Not to mention two. I was eighteen, in a new place hours away from home, surrounded by new friends and honestly in love with two guys. And they didn’t seem to mind. If I were to believe Roman, even though they had to share my attention, they were better friends now than before. Could it really be that simple?

           “I don’t know if I love Seth, not like I love the two of you. But I feel something for him,” I said after a while. “What if what I feel for him isn’t the same? If it isn’t what he wants from me? I don’t want to be the reason that the three of you stop being friends if it doesn’t work out.”

           “We’ll figure that out when we get there, princess,” Dean assured me. “And we’ll talk about it rather than one of us not talking to the others, yeah?”

           I couldn’t help but grin and duck my head. “Yeah.”

***

           “Go on,” Roman said as we sat in the parking spot in front of their apartment. He squeezed my fingers and pulled them up to his lips. “He’s home, and we won’t be far away if you need us.”

           Dean nodded encouragingly, cradling the back of my head with his palm as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “We’ll be at the Red Barn, okay?”

           I took a breath and climbed over Dean to get out of the truck. “I love you both. You know that, right?”

           “We know, princess.”

           Roman brushed his fingers down my spine as I crawled over Dean, who gave me a firm, playful smack on the ass. I grinned back at him at the distraction. The moment my feet hit the gravel, I squared my shoulders and walked up the steps toward the door. By the time I knocked on the door, Roman’s truck was already easing around the corner out of sight.

           Seth stood in front of the open door in a black band t-shirt and grey sweatpants with his hair in a knot hidden beneath a grey beanie. “Oh,” he said once he realized it was me, “hey, Addy. Ro and Dean are out. I actually thought they were with you.”

           I tried not to look away. My heart felt heavy. “I’m actually not here for them. I was hoping you and I could talk.”

           He looked uncomfortable as he stood out of the way to let me inside. The television was on and was paused on a screen for a videogame. I remembered just before New Year’s and sitting on the sofa watching him play as I teased him about Becky Lynch. Now he looked like he didn’t even want to talk to me.

           “Look, Addison…”

           I closed my eyes, suddenly afraid that I was going to cry at the sound of my full first name. “Addy,” I said slowly, my heart skipping a beat. “My name is Addy, and you know that.”

           Seth sank down on the arm of the couch and practically put his head between his knees. “Did they send you here to let me down easy or ask me to stay?”

           “I was under the impression that you were staying anyway,” I replied as I sat down on the chair. “Why didn’t you say anything, Seth?”

           He ran a hand over his face and scratched at his beard. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey Addy, can I join your stable of boyfriends?’”

           Part of me wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. “You could have just told me the truth. What was the worst thing that could happen, Seth? I tell you that I didn’t feel the same? We stopped being friends? I stopped coming over? Honestly, why didn’t you say something?”

           “Because Dean and Ro are my best friends!” he shouted at me, pain twisting his expression. “How do you think I felt knowing that I wanted you the way you want them? That I was in love with you?”

           I tried my best not to flinch as he shouted. He wouldn’t look at me, and I let him get it out. I remembered how it felt being so confused and scared. I knew how it messed with your head, and Seth needed to get his thoughts together.

           “I had to look at the two of them every day and know how they felt about you and then know that I felt how I did. The whole time, I had to think about how I had to be around you all the time and I couldn’t ever really have you.”

           My heart skipped one beat and then another. “And you thought running away was going to fix it?”

           He stood up, hovering over me. “Leaving my two best friends was easier than having to stay here and see you!”

           I thought of Dean and Roman and their confidence in me. Of how much they loved me. Trusted me. “Do I get a say in this at all?”

           Seth opened his mouth, but immediately snapped it shut. He leaned back on his heels, watching me as if he couldn’t quite believe what I’d said. “What?”

           “If this involves me, Seth Rollins, I think I deserve a choice.”

           He sank back onto the arm of the couch, the fight gone out of him. “I didn’t think you’d want one.”

           Without a word, I closed the space between us and tipped his head up with my fingers under his chin. I leaned down and pressed my lips against his. Seth rested his hands on the curve of my hips, almost unsure of what he was supposed to do. “I want a choice,” I whispered after leaning back. “The question is do you want to be part of this.”      

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