#shieldagentreader

Now closer, you shoot two spider bites at her, successfully finding her neck as the small volts of electricity pass through her body. It annoyed her more than it harmed her but it gave you an opening to land a strong left hook against her cheek, sending her stumbling back.

The attack shocked Agatha, who brought a finger to the corner of her lips only to spot blood that had slowly started to escape. No human had ever bloodied her before, not by a simple physical attack.

She narrowed her eyes on your panting form, trying to understand what kind of tricks you were using. Something within her system, within her magic core, tingled; the presence of foreign magic close by.

She suspected it must be coming from you, though she could not see nor truly pinpoint it. If you were a witch, you certainly did not know it, or you had been masking your magic so that even she was fooled.

An impossible task, Agatha thought as she started to send one blast after the other.

You could block her attacks, but you would eventually get tired. And as hell, she was not going to let you come near her again. One punch was humiliating enough, and that would be all you were allowed to get from this fight.

Each blast of magic met resistance from you, your hands doing their best to block and redirect the magic to the side, keeping you unharmed. However, the force of each blast kept pushing you back, making it harder for you to regain a stable footing or try to find an opening and come closer to Agatha.

Agatha, who grew tired of your refusal to fall down or even die, chose to change the rules of this battle. There was no need to waste her precious and hard-earned magic on a pitiful creature like you, not when there were other ways to get you.

Purple smoke enveloped her form, quickly making her disappear from where she once stood.

Panting, you started to slowly turn circles around yourself, trying to listen and predict where Agatha’s next blast would come.

Eventually, one did come, and by instinct alone, you jumped to the side to avoid it. It left you open for a few seconds, and that proved to be your fatal mistake as you felt something wrap around your neck.

Purple thin cord of magic pressed against your windpipe, the handler pulling you back and slowly cutting your breath intake. You tried to fight it, to find a small opening and slip at least a finger beneath, but your attempts were futile.

Before you knew it, Agatha gave a sharp pull and took you with her. Unable to fight it, you felt your body being yanked back before your head slammed on a hard rock, your consciousness quickly fading as the last thing you saw was Agatha’s purple dress in your fading field of vision.

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When you woke up, the first thing you felt was an annoying ringing in your ear. A sharp pain coming from your right temple reminded you that you were still alive, and slowly, you forced your eyes open.

As your vision cleared and your senses tuned in, you slowly started to realize where you were.

You were not in that clearing, for that you were certain. A quick look at your surroundings made you suspect that you were in some sort of rocky basement if your eyes were not mistaken.

You tried to move, only then to realize your limbs were not responding. Finally, you dared to look down and saw purple binds of magic wrapped around your arms and legs, keeping them behind your back while a similar force was levitating you mid-air.

“Look who is awake,” Agatha’s voice drew your attention and tried to find the source of it, a futile attempt to look above your shoulder as she entered the underground room.

“Where am I?” you asked, voice hoarse after the time you were unconscious.

“You have never been to a witch’s lair before?” she questioned as she slowly walked to be in front of you, in her arms, a bunny.

You looked at the bunny, not expecting an evil witch said to be responsible for all those catastrophes to actually have a pet, let alone a bunny of all kinds. “Should have?” you snapped back, getting annoyed by her little questions.

Your arms were getting sore, and so were your legs. Your head was killing you, and you would like to know why the fuck you were alive and, apparently, her prisoner.

“Considering your little show of skills...” she started, petting the bunny, but her blue eyes were locked on your form. “Now, how did you do it? How did you block my attack like that?”

Confusion appeared on your face as you started to realize why she had kept you alive so far. The issue was that you needed an answer to give her. Yet again, you wouldn’t tell her so easily even if you did.

The first attempt to hopefully earn time and maybe potential freedom was to try and play it more clueless than you actually were. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Agatha tilted her head to the side, watching your every move, every breath and every muscle twitch as you tried to lie to her. “Oh, but you do. What you did, that wasn’t someone testing it for the first time,” she argued as she let the bunny down and walked closer to you. Long fingers grabbed your chin and forced you to keep your attention on her. “Now, I will ask one last time. How did you do it?”

You did not dare to look away, both out of stubbornness and pride. You did try to yank your head back and free your chin from her grip, but you found how quickly she tightened her grip, to the point you were sure bruises would form if she continued.

“I told you. I don’t know,” You spat at her, narrowing your eyes, passively challenging her to let you go and face you properly.

A wiser person would think twice about using such a tone when they are a prisoner of a powerful witch. A wiser person would try to work with their kidnapper or have even freaked out by the fact that they were suspended by magical bonds.

Unfortunately for you, wisdom was not something you were given credit for. Stubbornness, now that’s more like it. Though, in your defence, considering how many times you had been attacked, kidnapped and even tortured, this was a regular Tuesday for you.

Agatha did not seem to like your answers, either because she did not believe you or because she was not a patient person. Her blue eyes scanned your face, thinking of ways she could make you confess soon.

That was until she spotted something; a little ink mark, barely visible beneath your blouse, wisely positioned close to your collarbone. Her fingers moved from your chin down your neck, making you shiver at the invasion.

Your muscle stiffened in response as her fingers went beneath your blouse and you tried to pull back, only to be reminded that you were completely at her mercy; unable to do anything but watch.

“What are you...” your voice grew weaker, and you felt betrayed by your own body once you realized your heart was beating faster, reacting to her touch as if you had not been with someone in years.

Technically, it had been a few months since your last short-lived relationship, but that was not the point.

Agatha removed her fingers, only to grab and lower your blouse to the point your cleavage was exposed; yet her blue eyes did not stay too focused on your chest, but rather what existed above it.

A thought clicked into her mind, and you swore you saw a glimmer of light in her blue eyes, her tempting lips forming a smirk.

“Perhaps you do not know, but your body does.”

You looked at her, confused, until you saw the purple magic coming alive between her fingers. In seconds, cold air hit your skin, and the sleeves of your jacket and blouse were literally ripped off.

You suppressed a shiver at the sudden change of temperature and the fact that you suddenly were a little more exposed to her roaming gaze. You kept your chin up, trying not to let her see how you felt, trying not to let her understand how empty your confidence was in such situations.

“Well, well... you are full of surprises, aren’t you, hon?” she questioned, her eyes travelling up and down your one arm and then the next.

Familiar to her, symbols had been inked into your skin since you were a child, tattoos that you never understood what they meant but never truly questioned. They had been with you for as long as you could remember, the only physical thing left to you by your parents.

In your mind, they looked cool and yet deep down you felt there was something more behind them. Your suspicions started to pay off as you went to more and more missions, as you encountered all kinds of threats, magic and not.

No true answers were ever given, though... until now.

“Now, this explains so many things,” Agatha continued after noticing how silent you went. “You have no idea what those things are, do you, cupcake?”

The nickname felt unnecessary, though you quickly came to realize it was kind of her thing. She loved calling people anything but their real names, refusing to give them that satisfaction or even respect.

“Do I look like I do?” you snapped back again, getting tired of her monologue.

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” she rhetorically asked. “What you have on your arms are runes. Specifically, protection and shielding ones. It was why you were not taken down by my magic. Those pestering symbols on your skin protected you.”

Blinking slowly, you tried to play it surprised, but you failed. Deep down, you knew and made a connection of a similar nature about those symbols. It was why Fury had specifically asked you to try and capture Agatha, only for him to underestimate how willing she was to play dirty.

It was not just Agatha’s mind that was working on scenarios and coming up with ideas at that moment. It was also yours and a risky enough plan formed in your mind, one that might not pay as well as you expected but it was better than remaining a prisoner.

“I don’t need them. Release me, and I will show you,” you said, trying to target her ego and her pride.

You were rather good at reading people, a skill you developed over the years as an agent and even during your academy years. You had already started to read Agatha, and you simply had to play your cards right.

As you expected, the challenge within you was what had drawn Agatha’s interest in the first place. Your snarky remarks, your ability to just get up despite the hits, and your stupid bravery in facing her even when you lost the first battle were what made you interested in her eyes.

Fully confident in her abilities, now that she had started to figure you out, Agatha obliged. With a single move of her hand, a little twirl mid-air, your binds were gone, and your face planted on the rocky floor.

Your arms and knees felt sore from the forceful landing; your weight did not help, but you fought beyond the pain as you started to get up. If those runes did protect you from her magic, at least the blasts, you could take her down, but you had to be mindful of any more tricks.

Agatha eyed you carefully, placing one nail between her teeth. “Well, show me,” she ordered.

You took a step forward and readied yourself, her blue eyes following your every move. At the last second, you bolted for what you saw were stairs leading up, intending to escape her and call for help.

Agatha could take down a few agents, but she had exposed herself and her threat level, and Shield had more than enough capable forces to actually take her down.

Your legs pushed you towards the stairs, arms frantically swaying back and forth as you felt your heart beating inside your head. You stretched one leg, ready to place it on the step, when you felt the attack.

Agatha had blasted you with her magic, and you felt it this time. The force tossed you against the stairs, and it was a miracle that you did not hit your head for a second time. Your body burned from her magic, and your guts twisted as you felt her readying for another attack.

Gathering all your willpower, you pushed your body to the side, nearly missing another magical blast that would have pinned you to the ground.

You looked at Agatha as she attacked you again, and you brought your hands forward like before, attempting to block it. Only that you felt no protection this time, and the blast knocked you against the rocky wall.

A third blast pinned you there before you felt her magic wrapping around your body, pinning your hands by your sides. Panting, you looked at your capture only to feel her magic tossing you to the side.

One wall, second wall; you groaned as you felt the rough impact, and you found it a miracle that your bones were intact. Bruises would sure form, and you swore a few fresh cuts had found their way on your skin, droplets of blood slowly escaping.

“I... I don’t get it,” you breathed out as she slowly brought you back to the centre. “What did you do to me?”

She had just said those runes on your body would protect you from her magic and then they didn’t?

Agatha was amused by your confusion and lack of knowledge as her magic pulled you closer to her. With her free hand, she motioned you to look around you, and it was then you noticed glowing purple symbols similar to some of the ones tattooed on your body.

“In a given space, only a witch who cast the runes can use her magic. In here, your pesky little protection runes are useless against my magic,” she explained smugly. “I wondered how you did not notice before; then again, you are not as smart as you portray yourself to be.”

Her insult did not settle well with you, and you glared at her with all the anger and hatred you could muster. It seemed to only delight her, finding no true threat in you, not at that moment. “You do not know me,” you said through your teeth, wishing for her to pull you just a tad closer so you could smack your forehead against her nose.

As if reading your mind, Agatha smirked and kept you at a safe distance, yet close enough so she could grab your chin again. Like a prized animal at a fair, she inspected you once again, pleased with her latest toy.

Yet, you did not accept it right away.

Instead, you eyed the mug carefully and then her, silently showing her that you did not trust her or whatever she might have put in there.

She seemed to catch up with it, for she rolled her beautiful blue eyes at your drama.

“You don’t trust me?” she questioned, though the answer was pretty obvious to you.

You narrowed your eyes in defiance, not letting your bound position or the fact that you were a prisoner actually break you. “Should I?” you snapped back.

She pressed her tongue behind her teeth, leaving a quick ‘Tch’ sound, clearly unhappy with your drama. “If I wanted to kill you, I assure you I wouldn’t take the long way of actually poisoning you.”

You thought about her argument momentarily, and you realized that she had made a point. Of course, she could also poison you just enough to torture you, hoping if you were close to death, you would open your mouth and confess whatever the fuck she wanted to know.

Ultimately, your dry lips and the fact that you had no liquid for a while won over your internal conspiracies. Thanks to the magic binds, you opened your palms as much as you were allowed and let her hand you the mug, the coffee inside still warm.

It was unknown to you what time of the day was or how long you had been out. However, considering you had tried to capture her in the early afternoon, you figured it was past nightfall.

Unfortunately for you, the small living room you were currently in had blackout curtains drawn, making it impossible for you to see outside for any signs of daylight. There was no clock anywhere, and you wondered how she knew what time of the day it was.

You brought the mug to your lips and slowly took a sip, surprised by the sweetness in your coffee. You had a knack for sweet things, whether pastries, chocolates or just a lot of sugar in your morning coffee.

After you felt the hot liquid go down your throat, you lowered the mug and focused on Agatha, who got comfy on an armchair, positioned to look at you.

Agatha was studying you just as you studied her. A playful smirk on her lips drew your attention.

“Sweet enough for you?” she asked, and like the prideful peacock she was, she was ready to flash her fancy tale at the fact that she had figured you out.

You chose not to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was right. “How did you know?”

Her smirk remained. “What can I say? I am an excellent judge of character,” she answered, moving one hand to emphasize her flare.

Eventually, you would come to notice that she used her hands a lot, elegant long fingers dramatically joining her sharp comments as the faintest traces of magic could be seen by their blackened edges.

It was your turn to roll your eyes at her drama and merely suppress any unwelcome comments by drowning them with hot coffee.

“Why am I here?” you finally questioned after a full minute of just pure silence between the two of you.

“Would you prefer to go back to the lair? Because I can arrange that.”

If you were anyone else, you would have immediately reacted and argued against being sent back to the lair, back to the place that truly made you vulnerable. But you were not just anyone else.

Years of training in the Academy and multiple missions beneath your belt made you a veteran in such situations. Even your poker face had been worked on to the point that any mortal could not read your thoughts.

Now, as for magical beings went... that remained to be seen.

“You know what I meant,” you commented, showing her that she was not going to have the upper hand in this conversation.

Something sparkled within her blue eyes at your defiance, at your unbroken spirit. It was not every day that Agatha met someone like you, so stubborn and untamed. This was what made you interesting but also challenged her to find a way and get what she wanted from you, one way or another.

“Thought you would like to be treated a little more like a human being,” she pointed out the obvious, and yet your look did not change. “Fine. You have something within you, and I am interested in what it is. Now I can find a way and drag it out of you, or...” There it was, that sparkle again. “We can find ourselves on more common ground.”

You arched an eyebrow, clearly not believing her—at least not truly. She could be trying to present herself as a better person to gain your trust, and perhaps, had your first meeting been different, it would have worked.

But you were too sceptical, too careful with everything, to just drop your guard around her.

Suddenly, Agatha pressed two fingers against her temple. “My god, are you always so paranoid?” she asked, rubbing her temples as she felt a throbbing weak pain making an entrance.

You blinked, once, twice... then you frowned, trying to understand what she meant... and then it dawned on you. That sparkle you swore you saw in her eyes, the way she seemed to know how sweet you took your coffee...

“You have been reading my mind?” you asked, though it felt more like a statement than a question. “All this time?”

Agatha sighed. “Well, I have been trying. But you have so many inner monologues, I feel as if I am watching a boring biography turned into a documentary.”

“I am surprised you know what any of those things mean,” you scoffed before you could process what you just said.

To your surprise, Agatha smirked. “Clever. Perhaps the cleverest thing you had said in a while.”

You pressed your lips until they formed a thin line, clearly not liking her well-targeted comments that were meant to draw a reaction out of you. To battle it, you chose to change the topic and hope you could get something out of this as well.

“If you can read my mind, why not just take what you need? Why keep me here, playing all nice?”

“I told you, hon. You interest me. You have something more, and I am not planning to let that go so quickly.”

Her cryptic words started to irk you. “What the fuck do I have then? Except for those stupid symbols on my arms?”

Agatha took joy in hearing you snap slowly, the rising tone of your voice a personal success. That was the first step she needed from you. She needs you to react, speak before your mind can stop you, and expose what you subconsciously held under lock and key.

She could always force it out of you, use her magic, but where was the fun in that?

Slowly, the powerful witch showed up. Every move she made and every step she took radiated pure confidence, and you could not help but silently admire her for that. The way she held herself without fear, without a single care in the world.

She knew she held the power at the moment, and she made sure to remind you every second of it.

And surprisingly, a part of you actually liked it. You found a weak voice at the back of your head admiring her confidence and what a dominant figure she could be even in such a simple, silent room.

“Oh, but you see...” Agatha started slowly. “Those pesky little symbols on you, they do not work just on anyone. Imagine the world if any useless being tattooed a rune on them,” she scoffed, amused by such a crazy idea.

This caught your attention. “So, what makes me special to make those runes work?”

“Now we are on the same page,” Agatha said. “But you shouldn’t be asking me that question. It is you who have those answers.”

Once again, her cryptic answers irked you. This time, you could not hold back the sarcasm. “If you are so confident that I have the answers, why don’t you show me, huh? I mean, aren’t you supposed to be an all-powerful witch?”

The idea settled in Agatha’s mind faster than you expected, and it was too late to take back your words, as you were already regretting the idea.

“If you are so willing,” she smirked and headed towards you.

“No, no, no,” you repeated, trying to push yourself harder against the wooden back of the chair as if you could somehow magically phase through it and escape her.

“Relax, hon. I am not going to harm you.”

“Your words are not very reassuring.” You argued.

Agatha came to a halt in front of you, a hand on her waist. She looked down at you, dark curls framing her face to a perfect angle while her bright blue eyes locked on your form.

For a moment, you breathed in, muscles tensing in anticipation of what might come. Yet nothing did happen, and you were left staring back at her, trapped in that chair.

“Aren’t you a bit curious?” Agatha suddenly asked. “Don’t you want to know why you have those runes on you? Why do they work the way they do?”

You thought for a moment, and you dared to break the eye contact, for the shade of her blue eyes was not helping you think.

Truthfully, you were curious. You had them as long as you could remember their origin, a blurry memory that never made sense to you. Perhaps this might be the only way and the only chance you could have to find out.

In the end, you sighed in defeat. “Fine. Help me learn,” you said as you looked up at her. “But no mind tricks whatsoever.”

Agatha dramatically dragged a black-tipped finger across her heart, forming an invisible cross on her clothes. “Cross my heart.”

“And hope you die?” you continued for her, earning an eye-roll from her.