Agent Kennedy

That voice was enough to pause her step as she approached her front door. A second of doubt as she glanced behind her shoulder to find a face that was becoming all too familiar.

"Well congratulations."

Raising her brow in amusement, a few questions already springing to her mind as the tables had finally turned. How much did he figure out. Who helped him? And more importantly, what was his plan now.

He had tapped into every resource he had access to and come up with nothing; eventually being forced to employ an underhanded method.

Technology had been what had led him to her doorstep. A small tracking device made up of biomechanic material, that had been placed on her without being noticed the last time they had met.

“Immensely.”

He could do nothing but admit the difficulty he had faced, while he stepped up behind her, close enough that escape would be impossible without using force, his front pressed against her back.

A hidden flaw in her almost perfect cover, but she hadn't the time to obsess over her mistakes. Not when he was at her door, breathing down her neck as she stood with the keys in her hand.

"Afraid? Oh, you've got it so wrong."

Recalling the countless tools at her disposal. Her gun tucked behind her coat, being the most obvious that he no doubt could feel from the lack of space.

Thinking of his... abilities, he was also likely aware of the gun in her purse, the countless blades. She even had wire within her hemlines. Most of it metal.

"You didn't exactly do as you were told, but sure."

Trying to contain her excitement at this possible challenge, she would turn on her doorstep with the little space she had and smile brightly. Reaching for his wrist, she would pull up his sleeve just enough to note the time on his watch.

A fact that he knew she was aware of, now that he was convinced she had done her research.

He knew there was a whole plethora of information out there for anyone who desired it. Both public knowledge and concealed files.

It seemed likely that she had utilized both.

“I am not prone to listen to those that I cannot trust. Experience has taught me it is usually wise to do the opposite.”

As she shifted in place, he moved back just a little bit to allow for the transition. Reminiscent of the intimacy often shared between lovers, his gaze remained locked on hers; the space between them still close enough that he could have counted each of her eyelashes.

He met her smile with one of his own, as the keys in her hand were slipped from her grasp and sucked into his own; quickly trapped inside his closed fist before she could even react.

There wouldn't be a fight from her. At least not yet.

In fact, she expected his argument. The little magic trick was brushed off as him showing off. Pissing on a tree to try establish dominance, but she wouldn't take her eyes from his for a second.

"Those keys belong to the Kawasaki." Allowing a pause for the penny to drop, a minor challenge she was eager to see if he would accept or work around some other way.

The fact she was on a higher step made it easier to lean forward, closing that small space once more to purr in his ear. "Now it's clear we are past personal space, but even I wouldn't trust me to watch my back."

She had a car, and the keys were rested on a hook inside her apartment, but she wasn't about to tell him. Where was the fun in that?

A sad attempt to get under skin that had been built up thicker than steel. She was looking for a chink in his armour. Something that she could use.

Unfortunately, she wouldn’t find it this time.

“I’ve had enough knives in my back that I have grown accustomed to the feeling. There is little point in fearing that which is inevitable.”

He offered the smallest of smiles before stepping away with the keys still trapped within his fist. The motor bike would not deter him.

Any excitement she had over this situation was deflating quickly as he ramble on. No fight back, no quick comments? She had seen more spark in a dead lighter.

Of course he would fall back to that little trick of his to threaten her. It made her chuckle softly as she stepped down the stairs at her own antagonisingly slow pace, not even glacing his way as she walked past him towards her bike that stood waiting.

With one hand on the storage box, she half expected for him to fumble with the keys in his hand. "Lucky you, I've two helmets so you can keep the roman soldier cosplay for another time."

It wouldn't be the first time she had gone over that bridge. Would rather not have to do so again, but if the alternative was listening to his sob stories, then the shock of the cold water sounded far more fun.

He would not give her the satisfaction. When it came to being stoic, he had it down to an art. Years of practice and a fierce determination to gain complete control. It would take a lot more than her to get under his skin.

He actually chanced a laugh, as he paused and reached forward to take the helmet from her outstretched hand.

“There’s no need for safeguards when I am dealing with someone evolution has chosen to leave behind.

Every other month? They must have found someone else to focus on.”

Securing the helmet over his head, he swung one leg over the bike and waited for her to get on behind him.

With one hand on his shouler, she moved to straddle the seat behind him. An unfamiliar place on her own bike, but she only took a small moment to adjust herself, smiling happily all the same. It reminded her of the small hit missions she went on with other widows, although coffee wasn't exactly an adrenaline rush.

"Besides, I've never led you wrong yet. You simply didn't listen to me."

Leaning back ever so slightly, shaking her hair from her face, she can hear him mumble something behind his helmet and chuckles to herself whilst she slips her own on.

Pulling herself close his body, a lingering hand on his side, she can't help but count the opportunities she had to carry out some wicked fun. Starting with a single slap to his thigh to get him going.

He had been thinking about her. Though mostly about her motives. Why had she tried to warn him about the demonstration? Was she trying to help him? Or did she know he wasn’t going to listen?

Was she in on the whole thing and a key player in whatever sick game was unfolding before him or was she sympathetic to his cause?

If she expected casual conversation over a cup of frothed espresso, she was sadly mistaken. The only date he desired was a quiet interrogation in a public space. To make sure she didn’t try anything too bold.

His back straightened as the weight of her body pressed against him. A smirk she wouldn’t be able to see and a laugh she wouldn’t be able to hear over the starting of the bikes engine.

He had to speak a little louder to make sure she heard him as he revved it, just to get a good feel for it before they took off.

Something told her he didn't usually have a passenger on a bike. She could just about make out the word desperate, but that alone was more than enough for her to fill in the gaps.

As they rode off, her hands were already itching to risk searching his pockets, but she knew she would need a better distraction, just incase.

A moment to think, a grin splitting her face before her fingers began to teasingly walk up his chest. Every step climbed was done so slowly, almost waiting for a reaction until she reached the zip on his jacket and inched it down.

Carefully, her hand eventually found its way around his throat, just below the helmet. A light touch, a gentle squeeze, and before he could drive them both into the wall she would raise her finger to hit the small bluetooth button.

A little tune rang in both their ears as she slipped her hand back down and the other from out his pocket. Confident he would hear her through the headset she would only then give her direction.

He had been in the game for far too long to not notice when someone else was playing it. Women were all the same. Naturally equipped with the most dangerous weapon anyone could wield. Desire was a powerful tool.

He knew she was far too sharp to miss the subtle way his head tipped back as though silently daring her to grip his throat a little tighter. Words spoken with action.

Go ahead. Do it. See how that works out for you.

As the headset inside the helmet crackled to life and her command to turn left rang in his ears, he was tempted for the most fleeting of moments to go right instead. The only thing that held him back was the thought that she was likely expecting that.

"You can listen, such a clever thing you are."

Continuing with further direction. Take the third right, then left at the nest traffic lights. The lack of reward from his pockets lingered in the boredom of her voice.

Noting her opportunities to flee as he slowed at corners or pulled up to red lights. Her heart rate increased that little more, resisting the urge to leap out the seat. The possibility of a chase, that was always a fun way to spend an afternoon, but he would only return to her apartment.

She wouldn't be surprised if he had already tried to go through it. The alarm systems wouldn't be too hard, but her study... he would evaporate himself and the whole block if he tried it without the code.

Pointing to the quiet coffee shop on the corner, the very place she told him not to go to those past few weeks back.

He didn’t have to put much effort into manning the bike. Not when he could perfectly dictate its every movement without needing to utilize the hand controls. A crash was impossible. Unless it was done deliberately. A possibility that lingered in the back of his mind, ready to be employed at any second if the situation called for it.

“I may have liked it. If I had ever actually made it there. But you saw to it that I didn’t.

Did you not?”

He didn’t expect an answer. At least not in that particular moment.

He coasted into a parking spot and disengaged the engine, before promptly removing the helmet. As much of an unnecessary precaution as his other one would have been.

"Another fight? That's funny." In the footage she had seen of him, she couldn't recall a single punch thrown. His signature move defaulted to standing like an open target and watching the metal do all the work. Hardly what she would consider a fight. "Throwing a snowball has more physical work than your so called fights."

Scoffing, she would tuck her helmet in its box, reaching out for his own with an outstretched hand.

"We both have reasons not to be here. It's the most neutral ground I could think of with such little time. If you have other suggestions, I'm all ears?" This is after all his idea. She was going to leave a coffee on his windowsill, but he couldn't wait.

The use of English was too common for the subjects she was certain he would want to discuss, and German wasn't that much better, but if that was her options, she would take the latter.

“Work smarter, not harder. Someone sounds a little jealous. Or perhaps that is disappointment I sense.”

He made sure to place the object right inside her hand, when he was done being an obnoxious tease.

“Perhaps you wanted me to slaughter all those people. Despite what my files contain, I am not one for shameless massacre. Nobody deserves to die a pointless death.”

He gave a casual shrug before continuing.

“English. French. German. Polish. Portuguese.

Russian.”

"Just an observation. It's a common theme I've found in men who think they are above everyone else. They always hit like a little bitch."

Continuing her German as she took the helmet from him, a smile on her own face as she packed it away and waited for him to get off her bike.

"If I want anyone dead, I'd have no issues doing it myself."

To her, the planet is overpopulated anyway. What are people, if not mere parasites? Drinking the world dry to satisfy our own selfish desires.

She would catch the subtle shift when he mentioned Russian. Her smile changed to something more playful, daring as she lifted her finger to her lips.

Quick witted and sharp tongued. Verbal jab after verbal jab coming at him, like the hits of a welterweight champion boxer.

“I don’t think I am above anyone else. Just a little higher on the evolutionary scale than some.”

He gave a casual shrug and turned towards the coffee shop, while effortlessly switching to the chosen dialect. It was one he had learned while making his way across South America. He couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps that was where she had picked it up as well.

“I don’t think proper English would be easily recognized in there. The world does not exist outside of America, you know? There is little need to learn anything about it.

Watching him carefully, she was more than aware of how delicate the matter might be, but she wasn't about to sugarcoat the facts. He was a dangerous person. She could recognise that charming facade was just a paper lock on an ape enclosure.

His joke about the American education system did manage to break her icy character. A more genuine smile pulled at her lips before she would shake her head of the thought.

"Maybe I just wanted to show off. Why are you looking for open positions? How long were you watching me before you showed up at my door?

Adapt or die. Survival of the fittest. Extinction or evolution.

It was natures way and a process that had happened a million times over since earths creation.

Society tried to deny it. How they fought with futility to entertain the idea that all humans were created equally, but he was living proof that they most certainly were not.

“You like being watched? Does the notion make you feel special? Such primitive methods. I have more than one trick up my sleeve. It would do you best to remember it.”

"Maybe I do." Dropping a wink as he stormed past her, amusement dripping off every word. "I think it's amusing. You're warning me of your hand, but you dont even know the game you're playing, do you?"

It was beginning to feel like reading a book for the second time in a row. His desire to be the one in control of the situation seemed to outweigh his stubbornness in all other matters. If she tugged on the reigns just enough, perhaps he would pull exactly where she wanted?

The shop inside was quiet, a couple of customers sat by the window and a young woman behind the counter reading her book. Even the chime of the bell above the door wasn't enough to raise her eyes as they entered.

Walking past him as he took it in. Nicole headed straight for the little booth in the back corner, sliding into the seat that overlooked the cafe.

There was a quiet thrill to this situation that had her heart fluttering. Despite the close proximity of previous encounters, or even the countless footage online, she was being handed the chance to study the infamous Magneto under a whole new light.

There was no reason to hide. He could easily fight his way out of nearly any situation that happened to transpire if he were to be recognized. Even those who allegedly held up the law were intelligent enough not to engage him in such a public forum.

That was half the reason why he had picked a public setting of which to hold their discussion. She might have felt safer in a secluded place in the middle of nowhere, but to him that was just offering up the opportunity for an unfortunate turn of events.

With an almost graceful ease, he slid into the booth across from her and offered her a wry smile.

“Caffè macchiato. Tall.”

His order.

Glancing at the keys still firmly in his hands as she grabbed her bag and headed for the counter. The thought of leaving regardless would have crossed her mind if the cafe wasn't so quiet. Feeling his gaze on her as she stood at the till to order his drink, her iced americano and a slice of the devil's chocolate cake sat behind the glass counter.

She would wait at the counter, watching carefully as the young girl made each drink, her mind pondering the ldngths ghat could still be gone to lace a drink with something more. She might have appeared kind, preventing the worker from having to go out their way to bring their order to the table. The truth was she didn't trust anyone to be left with something she would consume.

Plucking a fork from the container, hesitating if only a moment before picking up a second, she would carry the tray to the table, placing his coffee before him and taking her seat once more.

Her face would be the only answer regarding the hotdogs. Wrinkled nose of didgust as though she could smell it now. She was quite happy giving it a miss.

Watching the waiter as the leave, a polite smile before she raised her brow at the question. "A lobotomy." It was the first thing she could think of, never putting much importance to food it was a means to keep the body going, and that was all.

"I had heard that before. Statistically speaking, which one of us is more likely to get poisoned here?" She's mostly joking, and had they been sitting side by side instead of across the table, she would have given Nicole a gentle nudge with her elbow.

Charlie couldn't help but let out a loud laugh at the absolute curveball of a lobotomy. She had made a similar joke often enough at the office that most didn't even blink when she said it these days. Meanwhile, hearing it come from someone else's mouth had her almost choking on her first sip of sake.

"Remind me to never ask you for recommendations."

She settled back into the booth, expression softening into soft fascination as Nicole described the various dishes she wanted to try. While she had never been to Vietnam, there was a decent little family-run pho place near her office that she was tempted to suggest if this became a regular outing for them.

"Work sends me here and there, you know how it is, I imagine." She had only a few friends who worked on SHIELD's more mysterious side, and she would go months without seeing them sometimes. They would pop back up out of nowhere ike they'd never been gone. It was a style of friendship that amused her, but she had grown accustomed to, at least with them. She wondered if Nicole would have the same tendencies to vanish and reappear like a ghost.

"Sometimes for new work, mostly for assessments, and I've been on their emergency volunteer list so every once in a while I get called out to help with something more like this than architectural." At the word this, she gestured toward the front window, as if even through the narrow streets they could still see the wreckage from which they emerged earlier in the day.

The laughter brought a smile to her own face. Glancing around the room to check no-one was watching too long, she wasnt use to drawing out that type of reaction from others. Sipping her sake, feeling rather proud that her dark comment was taken so well.

Nodding as Charlie spoke, she would take it in. Speaking to those outside her line of work always made her realise just how freeing most people were in terms of discussing themselves. How it must feel to not look at every question like a trap?

"I imagine any new plans will be on a back burner for some time, hu?" Following her guesture, she would glance out the window.

"I have family all over. When I'm not travelling for work, I visit them when I can." It wasn't wrong. She had many sisters dotted across the world, most she was unaware of. "Unfortunately, there isn't much difference between Iraq and my family gatherings, no matter who semds me where, its a guarantee I'll be doing work."

A soft smile, one she has to force to meet her eyes as she sugars her reality. Careful to match the truth as close as she can to what her files would confirm. A task that only gets easier the longer she plays the part of Nicole.

All the while, Nicole took notes. Her fist was too stiff. She would eventually break a bone like that. And there was far too movement in her feet and not enough in her hips. If she kept hopping like that, she would fall.

What was aimed for her jaw ended up a poorly swung hit to her breast as she lunged forward. Gimancing, Nicole moved to steady Charlie quickly rather than allowing her to fall flat on her face.

"Not many people go straight for the boobs, but I admire the imagination." Was it too soon for a joke? Would it help lighten the situation?

Helping her gain her balance before stepping away, trying to keep that grin in check as she looked around the gym satisfied, none of the others decided to be nosy.

In those moments, with only a split second to react, there was no opportunity for overthinking. She hadn't been so concerned with her footing, her weight distribution, or the angle of her fist. And she certainly hadn't been performing under the critical gaze of such expert eyes.

Instead of the intended target, her fist firmly struck lower, and she hastily started blurting out apologies, mortified.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" The hand at her elbow didn't do much to hold her in place, but it kept her from stumbling further and staggering straight into Nicole. For that spared embarrassment, she was grateful.

Stepping back, she took a deep breath, trying to rid herself of the hot flush that burned its way into her cheeks.

Stop overthinking it. Just move. Resorting to mentally coaching herself, she hoped her internal pep talk would work this time.

Rolling back her shoulders and ignoring the slight pain in her chest, she prepared herself for the next hit.

Her feet spaced well apart, each movement seemed less forced than before, the breath of air for clarity.

Watching her fist fly and fighting the urge to catch it, Nicole allowed it to land across her jaw. Her neck twisted as she embraced the initial shock, stepping back to catch her balance as her ears rang with that rush she gained in every fight. The numbness only ever lasted a few seconds before that burst of pain heated her face.

" Your in luck cause I happen to have some ice." Margo went over to her small refrigerator that she keeps in her office to pull out a few cubs of ice and a clean cloth to put in. She couldn't believe she didn't notice the huge bruise on her face and not stopping at a hospital to get looked at. Something told her that she didn't seem the type to go for that.

"Something tells me who ever did that to you must be in worse shape. If thats the case then..good." Margo knew that Nicole had been through alot and was more than capable of hitting back just as harder. Sometimes margo wished she could be that resilient however the life she leads sounds too dangerous to even consider. Which was why she respected the other woman for it.

"Oh right, now that you mention it, I think we never gotten the chance to exchange numbers yet." They have ran into each other for awhile but never really exchanged numbers to be in direct contact. This time is a good time as any. Pulling out her cell to punch in jer number while giving Nicole her own she nods with a satisfied hum. "I'll be sure to do that and likewise if you ever need to contact me."

As much as margo loved her job as a journalist, it was often alot to deal with. The only reason she took upon this was because it was something she always wanted. To get to the truth along with helping people. But she also knew that she would make mistakes along the way. Making choices that could put herself and the people she cares about at risk.

looking up at the woman who keeps surprising her by being considerate of how she was feeling. It only led her to like Nicole a bit more.

The motion of swapping numbers was a welcomed distraction. Taking the phone to fire in her digits, "My only ask is that you never pass this out to anyone." Did she think Margo would? Not really, but emphasising the point left no room for argument later down the line. There was a hesitance before she handed Margo her phone back, her eyes lingering on the device like she just told the woman her social security code.

Slipping her own phone back into her pocket. The device felt that little bit heavier of information.

Margo would blame her one day. It was inevitable when everything went to hell. The more someone helped her, the more danger she put them in. An easy acceptance for an agent or mutant who lived that line every day, but a civilian? How could they possibly know what they were in for?

Margo noticed her hesitation when she pauses slightly before handing her cellphone back, she sighs softly assuming something was wrong. "In you were wondering my phone has a tracker, just in case I get kidnapped or missing. Always better to take precautions." She mentioned with a slight nod towards her phone.

Once margo had slipped her own cellphone back inside her purse, she felt a bit at ease knowing that she could contact her if things went wrong or even just to ask questions and maybe get some answers.

"So I guess we just wait until this all goes down? I seriously don't know how you do it, this job your in. Tell me..does it get easier for you or more difficult?" Maybe the silence between them was getting to her or that she just wanted to drown out the guilt she had when agreeing her arrangements. When it came to SHIELD she was iffy about, yet so far Nicole had proven that she wasn't as cold as she originally thought she was.

It fell in similar lines to how she slept at night, a question many sneered when they dealt her without the warmth of her undercover alias. Yet, Margos' question wasn't sneered. It wasn't spat out through gritted teeth as the inevitable happened.

To Nicole, this was any other day. She would carry out the rest of her day and not think twice about the man she was killing, only which name would fall next on her list. There was no guilt about the things she had to do, she wasnt sure she could even describe the feeling of guilt, but watching Margo twist in her seat brought her a sense of shame.

It's ironic that the feeling she lacked often clung to those around her.

"I can't really remember how it was before." All she knew was violence and order, it's was how she was raised. "I've been in the job so long now." Another vague truth.