It was supposed to be a simple mission. In the middle of a flight over the Atlantic Ocean, she received information for a new mission through the computer panel. Reading through the files, she thought it would be an easy task but as always, Director Fury left out a few details. He seemed to enjoy watching her deal with the unexpected complications. Her latest mission was to retrieve a Chitauri gun, one of the many pieces of Chitauri technology left behind from the infamous Battle of New York. Though SHIELD retrieved most of the weapons, other government organizations and random people on the streets managed to steal some in the midst of the destruction. Since the incident in New York, SHIELD agents were sent all over the world to find these stolen weapons before they ended up in the wrong hands. There were already rumors of an underground science project that used Chitauri metal in filters for a serum, similar to the one used on Steve Rogers in the 1940s, to create super-powered soldiers. Organizations like Rising Tide, an anonymous group of hacktivists that leaked all kinds of classified information, made it difficult for SHIELD to operate in secrecy, inhibiting much progress in locating the missing Chitauri weapons or the scientists involved in this super soldier project without frightening the public.

Agent Elena Hart was sitting on a tattered black sofa that was covered in over a dozen beer stains and had a mixed, pungent odor of beer, urine, and other unpleasant smells typical in a college dorm. She was pressed up against the side of the couch by five other college students who crammed themselves into the small space. Her complaints went unheard, the already wasted students enjoying the party on a late Friday night. At just twenty-two year old, she was one of the younger agents in SHIELD yet she had more experience than most agents three times her age. Her young age allowed her to be sent on missions involving high school and college students since she could easily fit into the crowd. For her latest mission, she pretended to be a new student, named Alexis Gable, at the University of Florida. It was a renowned party school and she did not have trouble making friends and getting invites to the hottest parties.

Elena bit her tongue when the petite girl beside her, who sat partially on her lap, nearly spilt beer on her dress. The girl giggled obnoxiously, waving her hand as if it counted as an apology. After spending two hours at the party, Elena was reaching her boiling point, having to dodge drunk, clumsy students and the advances of horny college boys. As she moved her legs to avoid the fresh stain on the couch, she locked eyes with a blonde-haired boy her age. He was surrounded by a group of people praising him for his recent football win. Besides being the captain and star quarterback, he was also her target for the mission, Reese Danvers. On the way to the campus, Elena had read all of his background information. His father worked for the CIA, which smuggled Chitauri technology from the battle site. Reese was a popular student at the university with a perfect GPA, majoring in computer science, and a member of Rising Tide.

Behind his friendly exterior was someone very arrogant, cold-hearted, and rotten. He acted like the typical spoiled rich kid who got everything he wanted but if he did not get his way, he turned into a stubborn child. From the SHIELD files, she learned that Reese had been cut off from his trust fund after an intense argument with his father. Unable to cope with his reduced cash flow, he hacked into CIA security system and stole a Chitauri gun. He was offering to sell it to the highest bidder among the nation's enemies. To many, it would sound like an unusual case but Elena had seen this situation countless times over the years. Her original plan had been to appeal to a misunderstood Reese but the files left out that he was known for his exploits with girls and had an ego the size of a football field. By befriending his friends, gaining even more information about him, she changed her plan and decided to purposely ignore him. Her lack of attention only made him more interested.

When he flashed her a crooked smile, she immediately glanced down and stared at her nails, pretending to be bored at the party. She squeezed herself away from the couch, feeling a slight pain in her ribs from being pinned to the side for an entire hour. Passing by a beer pong table, she waited at the end of a short line for the keg. A red plastic cup, filled with cheap beer, was dangled in front of her face. Turning around, she saw Reese.

"You can just share mine," he offered.

"No thanks, Jake."

"It's Reese."

"Right. I'm usually good with names but I guess I don't care enough to remember yours."

Elena moved forward in the line. He chuckled, his hand brushing against her hip. She resisted the urge to smack him across the face.

"You're a tease, Lexi."

"It's Alexis to you. Only my friends call me Lexi."

"We're not friends? That hurts. I've been nothing but nice to you for the past two days. I even helped you find your classes. Why are you playing hard to get?"

"I'm not. I just don't want you."

"And why not? I'm good-looking, star quarterback and captain of the football team, popular, smart, funny...what's not to like?"

"Maybe it's your huge ego. Contrary to what you might think, not every girl wants you all over them, especially me. Go find some drunk girl to bother."

"All I want is you, beautiful. I am not leaving your side for the rest of the party. I'm going to show you how great I am and by the end of the night, you'll want me so badly that you can hardly look at me without having dirty thoughts."

If she did not need to locate the gun, she would be showing far less restraint. She imagined breaking his legs and giving him a massive wedgie by hanging him from the flag pole. Reese had not been joking about staying with her during the party. She used his persistence to her advantage, slowly getting him drunk. As he drank multiple shots, she would only take a sip and discretely dump the rest on the floor. He was clueless that her drunken behavior was all an act. When she began to loosen up, he assumed it was due to the alcohol. She poured two more shots of tequila.

"Why do I seem drunker than you?"

"Maybe you're a lightweight. What's the matter? You can't handle a little tequila?"

"Of course I can. I can even sneak it back to my room, past the RA. Come back with me."

"What if someone sees?" she asked, nervously.

He twirled a strand of her dark brown hair around his fingers. "You want to keep up the little innocent routine? We both know that you're a naughty girl. My roommates won't be back until much later. We'll have the dorm to ourselves."

"O—okay, but I don't want to take things too fast."

"Never. We'll just hang out and watch a movie," he said, his eyes showing his true intent.

Reese picked her up bridal style and carried her towards his dorm. He stumbled down the hallway, almost hitting the wall a few times. Once they were in his bedroom, he dropped her down on his bed and sloppily kissed her neck, his hands sliding under her dress.

"I told you not too fast. I thought you said we'd watch a movie," she said, grabbing his hands.

"We can make our own movie."

"Or we could play a game."

"I like games. How about one where I kiss until I find your favorite spot?"

"I have a better idea."

She sat him down in a chair near his desk. Searching his drawers, she grabbed a tie and used it as a blindfold around his eyes.

"I'm liking this game."

"It's about to get better. You're the dirty criminal and I'm the cop. I'm going to ask you questions and every time you answer wrong, I punish you," she explained, handcuffing his hands behind his back.

Elena turned on his laptop and blared loud rock music through the speakers. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small gun. Hiding the gun, she lowered the blindfold. Reese looked at the handcuffs, commenting that they felt real.

"Are you ready to start our game?"

"I think you'll be punishing me a lot. Don't hold back," he said, smirking.

She giggled. "Oh, I won't. First question. Where's the Chitauri weapon that you stole from the CIA?"

His smirk faltered. "W—what?"

"Where's the gun? I've read your file like ten times, Reese. You're so arrogant that you would hide it here because no one would think you're dumb enough to have a weapon in your room."

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the one asking the questions and remember the game. If you answer incorrectly, I get to punish you. Sadly, it won't be as enjoyable as you think. This can be done in two seconds if you tell me where you hid the gun."

"Screw you," he hissed.

Reese closed his eyes tightly when she pulled the trigger. Instead of a bullet, he was hit in the face with a clear liquid. She squirted him a dozen times. He spit some of it out, disgusted.

"What is that? It isn't water."

"I told you that I'm the one asking the questions. If you keep being rude, I'll squirt you again. Let me try to find it first and then we'll go back to my questions, okay?"

"Untie me right now. This can't be legal. You—"

"Shh, I'm trying to concentrate. You're not the first spoiled brat I've dealt with…you all have the same story. You fight with mommy and daddy, lose your precious trust fund, steal something top secret, and offer it to some nasty people so you can keep buying your expensive cars and travel to all kinds of exotic places for spring break. Without that money, you can't get the equipment to help your Rising Tide buddies," she said, walking lightly around his room.

One of the floorboards squeaked as she stepped close to his bed. She lifted up the loose floorboard, finding a rectangular, metal safe with a key hole and a code lock. Taking out her phone, she held it over the code lock and it became illuminated by a blue light. The code, 73235, was revealed on the screen.

"Where's the key?"

"Not telling."

"It would be a shame if I had to bloody up that handsome face."

"You can spray me for hours and I won't give you that key. My roommates will be back soon. They'll call the cops and you'll get hauled off to jail, you psycho bitch."

Elena punched him across the face. He gave a howl of pain and recoiled his head. Blood seeped from his nose. He spit out the blood that seeped into his mouth.

"You boke my nose."

"I what? I poked your nose?"

"I won't gib id do you. You're wasting your dime."

"Well, we have something in common, Reese. I like getting what I want but sadly, we both can't win in this situation. You're cuffed to a chair and have a broken nose. You're smart. How do you think this is going to end?"

"Bide me," he replied with a harsh glare.

"You're bringing this on yourself. Tell me where I can find the key and I'll stop. Keep quiet and you're going to get more than a broken nose."

For the next hour, Reese maintained his silence. He refused to divulge the location of the key, despite being hit by several punches. When that approach failed to yield any useful information, she resorted to non-violent tactics. She straddled him and unzipped his jeans.

"Dis is wad you're doing now? Bribing me wid sex?"

"That would be silly."

A bright white flash shined on his chin. She laid on his bed, looking through the photos.

"Wad are you doing?"

"I'm about to send pictures of the little twig between your legs to every single person on this campus. Have fun with your new nickname, baby carrot. I doubt the girls will be begging for your affections."

"You dink I care wad dese losers dink?"

"Maybe not but when I post the picture on every social media page of yours, along with a little message identifying it as yours, it's going to go viral. I also made some pictures of you and your jock buddies in uncompromising positions. You have five minutes, Reese."

"I'm nod falling for id."

"Oh, did I say five minutes? I meant fifty seconds. I sometimes have trouble reading numbers. It's forty seconds now. Tick tock."

Reese struggled to get out of the handcuffs. He grew visibly tense as she loudly counted down to zero.

"Ten…nine…"

"Stob!"

"What was that? Eight…seven…"

"De key is daped under de snow globe!"

Elena tapped the screen and walked over to his desk, which was littered with trinkets. Picking up the Disney snowglobe, she found a key taped to the bottom. She removed the key and tossed his phone onto his lap. Using the key, she opened the safe. It was filled with various computer codes, classified government documents, and a large, thin gun. She grabbed a duffel bag under his bed and placed all the contents of the safe inside, slinging the bag over her shoulder. While Reese whined about being untied from the chair, she slid a flash drive into his laptop. The flash drive downloaded any information related to Rising Tide and government secrets.

"Dere's noding dere."

She looked at Reese. "Did you say something?"

"You never dook a picdure. You lied."

"Very good, Reese. You have basic observational skills."

"You said you'd undie me."

"Actually, I said I'd stop hurting you if you told me about the key. I'm going to leave you here to teach you a lesson about stealing things that don't belong to you. You're lucky that I don't tell your dad about your little hacking activities. I had fun tonight. By the way, you were right that I wasn't squirting you with water. It was dog piss."

"Whad?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Yea. I thought it would be funny…well, it was to me. Good luck getting your buddies to hear you over this music and the party down the hall. I'm sure they'll be back by five in the morning. Hang in there."

Elena suppressed a smile, hearing him shout as she left his room. The hallway was crowded with students returning to their own dorms. She blended into the group, who were too inebriated to notice anything strange, and headed over to a clearing close to the campus. Seconds after pressing a red button on her phone, a jump jet became visible. She sat in the cockpit and switched on the control panel.

"Mission accomplished. Device has been retrieved. Orders?" she said, tossing the duffel bag onto the floor.

Words began to form on the panel with the following order: Bring device to the Fridge then report to the Hub for next debriefing. She put the jet into autopilot to give herself some rest. When she woke up, she was five minutes from her destination. She landed on the roof of the Fridge, a maximum security facility where SHIELD stored its most dangerous prisoners and objects. Consisting of a hundred floors, the only point of access was through the roof. Two guards stood inside the entrance.

"Identify yourself and state your purpose."

"Agent Elena Hart. Dropping off Chitauri weaponry."

The doors slid open and they followed her into the elevator. One of the guards pressed a button for the bottom floor. Agent Tyler, a recently promoted field agent, was standing by a door at the end of the corridor. She unzipped the duffel bag and handed him the Chitauri gun.

"Hate to see what the kid who stole this looks like now."

"I just broke his nose. He should be thanking me. Girls are suckers for a guy with an injury."

By the time she arrived at the Hub, it was already half past two. Her stomach grumbled from lack of food since the previous night. She received a new message on her phone. The debriefing was delayed until the next day due to the other agent taking longer than expected on their mission. She rolled her eyes, reading that the agent was Devin Moore. Like her, he was a level seven agent but he tended to do poorly on solo missions. Being on a mission with him was never a fun experience. Walking through the Hub, she realized that she stood out among the sea of black suits. She had not changed out of her outfit from the party, a very short, sleeveless black leather dress and black ankle boots. Her eyes narrowed at two boys around eighteen blatantly staring at her chest. Catching her eye, they quickly looked at the floor.

A young man in his mid-twenties, with a Scottish accent, attempted to push a cart of gadgets through a sliding door. The cart was wedged between the glass. He eventually slipped the cart through but then the door shut completely in his face. Shaking his head, he complained about the malfunctioning door and a faulty wiring system.

"In the Hub of all places. A monkey could do a better job with this wiring."

"Do you need help?" she asked.

"Yes. You can tell those incompetent mechanics that—"

Turning towards her, he stopped, his pale cheeks reddening. She stepped in front of the side panel.

"It's probably just the mechanics playing a prank. They mess with the wiring once a month for fun. I've seen enough of this thing to know what they altered in the system."

"T—the door's stuck."

"I guessed that when it wouldn't open. No worries. There's the problem. They changed the language from English to French. Their pranks get lamer every month. Ouvre."

The door slid open. "There we go. Don't tell anyone else how to fix the problem. It's a lot funnier to watch them try to figure it out themselves."

"Good thing Elena was here to help," she heard.

Elena smiled, seeing Agent Coulson. He embraced her in a fatherly hug. She had not seen him since he assembled his team. When she first heard that he was killed before the Battle of New York, by Loki, it was like a punch in the gut. Coulson was one of the first SHIELD agents she met when she was recruited for the Operations Academy and acted as her supervising officer. She pushed his shoulder when he commented on her unusual attire.

"I was dealing with the Danvers kid. Fury forgot to mention what a narcissistic twit he is…if I didn't need to get something from him, I would've broken both of his legs."

The rest of his team was staring at them with mixed expressions of confusion and curiosity. Elena only knew Agent May, who gave her a warm smile. May was known for being a very skilled agent, earning the nickname The Calvary after an incident in Bahrain, but in recent years, she worked in an administrative position. She was supposedly just the pilot on Coulson's team yet Elena doubted that she never got involved in combat. Coulson introduced her to the other team members. The young man she helped with the door was Leo Fitz, a genius engineer who was rarely seen without Jemma Simmons, a brilliant British biochemist. Their close parternship led to them being known as Fitzsimmons. The other girl, just a couple years older than Elena, was Skye, a former member of Rising Tide who was very skilled with computers. Coulson drafted her onto the team, despite her not being an actual agent. Director Fury was skeptical of the decision, thinking it was a risk, but trusted Coulson's judgment. The final member, certainly lived up to his name. Elena had heard rumors about the anti-social, stubborn Grant Ward. He was a specialist who preferred to work alone. From what she heard, he had the social skills of an enraged grizzly bear. Besides his cold demeanor, he was also known for his handsome looks, mostly his chocolate brown eyes and nice cheekbones.

"This is Agent Elena Hart."

Only Skye did not look shocked when Coulson introduced her. Elena was quite a well-known agent in SHIELD. Her recruitment alone was an interesting story. When she was only sixteen years old, she was recruited for the Operations Division by Fury himself. He had been on a mission in her hometown and she rescued him from an explosion. Being a fast learner, she figured out how to work his gun and managed to shoot the attacker in the leg. Fury was impressed by her skills and offered her a spot at the Academy. She was the youngest recruit for the Operations Division, especially among the women. Within a year, she graduated, earlier than most recruits, and by the time she turned nineteen, she was a level seven operative, working with other infamous agents like Romanoff and Barton. She had been part of over a thousand missions.

"It is such an honor to meet you in person," said Simmons, awestruck.

"You too. Your night-night guns are awesome," she replied, looking at Fitz and Simmons who seemed ready to faint when they heard she used their technology.

Elena was surprised by Ward's reaction. He was being oddly silent. She had been a freshman when he recently graduated so they never crossed paths at the Academy. Knowing his reputation, she wondered if he thought that Elena could not be the great agent from those stories. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Simmons whispering to Skye excitedly while pointing at her.

"Don't tell me you flew from that college to here without resting," said May.

"I had to go to Fridge first. I thought I'd at least get time to eat but I have another debriefing. Lucky for me, it was delayed because Agent Moron is taking too long on his mission."

"You two need to start getting along. I'm sure Agent Hand can give you some of the details on your own," suggested Coulson.

Elena tensed up, glancing around the corridor. "Hand is here? Where is she now?"

"In the debriefing room. I'm guessing you've met her."

"Yea and every time we meet, I'm not in what she calls 'standard SHIELD attire'. It's not like it's my fault. If she sees me, she'll give me that judgy face. I came prepared."

Reaching into the duffel bag, she pulled out a black blazer. She put the blazer on over her dress and looked at Coulson.

"Good enough, right?"

"Well, it's...not as bad. Pants or a longer skirt might help."

"I thought I packed—it's fine. It's not like I'll see her until tomorrow so—"

"Afternoon, Agent Hand," she heard.

Hand, a tall, statuesque woman with red streaks in her dark hair, was walking along the corridor with two other agents. Even without saying a word, she was intimidating.

"Not good, not good. If she asks, you haven't seen me yet. I'll be tricking some level four agent into giving me pants or a skirt. I can just call it an initiation. It was nice meeting all of you."

Elena hurried down the nearest corridor. She felt a twinge of pain in her ankles from running in her high-heeled boots. Entering the Operations division, she spoke with the newest batch of level four agents. Level four agents were rarely assigned dangerous missions and did not experience much combat in the field. It did not take much effort to convince the girls about the fake initiation. They were eager to level up and doing favors for a high-ranking agent was a good start. She changed clothes with the girl closest to her size, assuring her that the superior officers would not reprimand her for her non-standard attire. Instead of the leather dress, she was now wearing a short-sleeved white blouse, a black, single button blazer, and a mid-thigh length black skirt. Though she was dressed appropriately, she was sure that Hand would find something to nitpick, probably her boots. Sitting in the cafteria with a group of agents, they discussed the latest mission from the debriefing room. Ward and Fitz were sent to South Ossetia to retrieve a weapon called the overkill device. The device created sonic vibrations to trigger weapons and the separatists planned to use it to declare their independence. Their mission was to disable the device within twenty four hours.

"They'll need luck getting across that border. I remember how hard it was back in '08," said Cale, biting into a burger.

"Twenty bucks says that Ward throws the little scientist over a cliff before they make it back," joked Mack.

The men sniggered at his pathetic joke. It was not uncommon for the operatives, usually the specialists, to tease the scientists and their lack of combat training. Many agents disliked any mission that involved working with the scientists, due to their differences in tactics. On the way to her office, she passed by a group of agents dressed in full tactical gear.

"Um, what brings you to this restricted hallway so late at night?"

Around the corner, Simmons was having a conversation with Agent Sitwell, a man in his early forties. He was bald with a tanned complexion, light stubble, and glasses, dressed in the typical SHIELD suit. At the other end of the corridor, Skye was hiding behind the door. He questioned Simmons about the open wall panel. Elena stifled a laugh when she complimented his head. Simmons was certainly brilliant but a terrible liar.

"Are you on comms with someone?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Jasper."

Elena walked over to them. Sitwell's demeanor changed dramatically as he straightened his suit. If she was not protecting Simmons, she would have avoided him for the rest of the night. Sitwell was not even close to the top of her list of favorite agents. She hardly considered him a friend. Despite proving herself as a talented agent over the years, some of them, mostly men, only viewed her as a pretty girl. They focused more on her looks than any other attributes like her intelligence. On a daily basis, she dealt with their shameless flirting and Sitwell was among them, constantly hinting that he was attracted to her. When they played poker games during downtimes, a few agents, including him, tried to play a dirtier version that involved less clothes. She had gotten used to the cheesy pick-up lines and lame attempts at getting her on a date.

He cleared his throat. "Agent Hart, I didn't realize you were at the Hub. I thought you were still on your mission."

"Nope. I got back early. I was looking for you."

"You were?"

"I snagged two bottles of bourbon from a dorm. I thought we could have a poker game. With a few shots in me, I might be willing to play the other version you like, " she said, batting her eyelashes and playing with his tie.

"I'll uh make sure my office is empty. We wouldn't want someone to interrupt the game and break our…concentration."

"Good. It'll be better if it's just the two of us. I'll be in your office in ten minutes. Don't make me wait too long."

His lips twisted into a subtle smirk. As he left the corridor, Simmons repeatedly thanked her for her help. She had worried that Sitwell would get her in trouble for accessing the restricted panel. Elena followed her through the door.

"Was that all right?" asked Simmons.

"That was terrible. You are terrible at this. That was a total meltdown. If Hart didn't show up and save you, it could've gotten worse," said Skye.

"I'm not a good liar."

"Really? Didn't notice," said Elena.

"I panicked. He was—and I just—I don't like being a bad girl. Thank you so much, Agent Hart. I can't say it enough. Do you like sandwiches? I could make you one. My homemade pesto Aioli is quite good. Well, Fitz thinks so but I think you'd like it as well. Unless you—"

"Why don't you sit and take a few breaths? You look like you're about to pass out."

"Yes, good idea."

Simmons sat on a nearby metal bench, taking slow, deep breaths. Elena turned to Skye for an explanation. Accessing a restricted panel was not typical in the Hub. She assumed that they wanted classified information. Her first thought was that Skye was still working for Rising Tide and attempting to uncover some SHIELD secrets. Skye confessed that they were concerned for Fitz and Ward. She had seen the men in tactical gear and believed that there was something wrong with their mission.

"Are you going to tell Hand?"

"I avoid her like the plague so no."

"I know it was risky. Coulson said to trust the system but I have this nagging feeling…"

"I get it. I've done similar things when people I cared about went on dangerous missions. We'll keep it between us but no more hacking restricted panels. Be glad that I was the one who found you and not Hand. If it was her, she would've arrested you without a second thought. I'll keep Sitwell quiet too."

"Wait, you're actually meeting him?"

"If I don't, he'll know that I just said it to get him away from Simmons. Don't worry. We play poker, I tease him by losing bits of clothing like my shoes, he gets all excited, I start playing for real and win a bunch of hands while getting him drunk, and he blacks out, forgetting what happened during the game."

"Sounds like you've done this before."

"By now, I'm an expert at it. Here."

She handed an access card to Skye. "It's for the level 8 lab in the basement. I think it'll calm Simmons down if she's around science stuff."

After a quick stop by her office, Elena walked up to Sitwell's office on the third floor. Sitwell grabbed two glasses and a deck of cards from a cabinet. She silently shook her head at the dimly lit room. He showed no attempts at hiding his real intentions.

"For a second, I thought you weren't showing up."

"I was the one who found you. Of course, I want to play. Those college kids made me want to tear out my hair and I don't have debriefing until tomorrow, so why not relax with some poker?" she said, placing the bottles of bourbon on the table.

"We could do a little debriefing of our own."

"Not yet. Keep it in your pants. I'm not drunk enough to play that version."

Unlike Reese, she could not just pretend to drink the bourbon. Sitwell would easily see if she was putting on an act. She started to feel a bit tipsy after her tenth shot and agreed to play strip poker to make the game interesting. Choosing a different tactic, she decided to distract him by purposely losing at poker. She pouted when she lost the first hand.

"Damn it. I can't be drunk while playing this game."

"You know the rules."

Elena removed her hair tie, letting her dark tresses fall past her shoulders. "There."

"That doesn't count."

"You never said that before we started playing. What, you don't think it's sexy?" she asked, tousling her hair.

Each time she lost, she took off clothing like her shoes and bracelets. She shifted her focus as he became more intoxicated than her. The tables turned and he was the one removing his clothes. He spilled bourbon onto the table as he poured it into both glasses. She grabbed the bottle.

"I think we're done with this for tonight."

"I hardly feel it."

"You're going to make a mess . No more bourbon for you. You lost again. Take off something."

Sitwell pulled her onto his lap. "You could help. I'm having trouble with my tie."

"Really? That's the best you could come up with? I'll let you have one more drink. If you can finish it without any problems, I'll let you take something off me too."

Behind her back, she sprinkled white powder into his glass. It was disguised by the dark color of the bourbon. As he drank from his glass, his eyelids drooped. About a minute later, he was slumped in his chair, unconscious. She sat down at his desk and texted Infilitration successful. Target asleep to a secure number. The person on the other end replied that she should skim through the files for any strange activity. While Sitwell was fast asleep, she searched all of the files on his computer and made copies on her flash drive. She received a call from the secured number.

"Anything get your attention?"

"He's got a lot of meetings scheduled that aren't in SHIELD's records. A few are buried between authorized meetings. I also uncovered censored documents about Project Insight. He couldn't get these by himself. What would you like me to do, sir?"

"Bring the flash drive to me after you've completed your next mission. I want full surveillance in all those offices."

"Understood, sir. I'll have the surveillance up by the morning and all transmissions will be sent directly to your computer through an encrypted folder. No one will be able to access it but you and me."

"Good. Keep both eyes open, Hart."

Elena spent the rest of the night planting bugs in every office. She sat in her office, checking that the video feeds were functioning properly. Besides spying on the various agents, the bugs allowed her full access to their computers, including any sent or received messages. Around eight o'clock, she headed down to the debriefing room. She was dressed in black leather pants, a dark blue camisole, knee-high boots, and black leather jacket. Entering the room, she overheard an argument between Coulson and Hand. She was able to hear bits of their conversation through the glass. Coulson was angry that there was no extraction plan for the mission to retrieve the overkill device.

"You yourself have designed dozens of operations like this. You know how this works," said Hand, brusquely.

"Usually with an extraction plan."

"Barton, Romanoff, Hart…they never have an extraction plan."

"They know that going in!"

"Eavesdropping on Daddy Coulson, Bambi?"

Her nostrils flared, hearing that familiar grating voice. A boy, three years older than her, with well-coiffed dark brown hair, hazel green eyes, and a slight muscular build, was standing behind her. He was wearing the usual smirk that seemed to be tattooed to his face.

"Coulson isn't my dad."

"Right, you just wish that he was…because yours cared more about guzzling another beer than making sure you had dinner every night."

"What took you so long, Moore? I read the file for your mission. Six days? I would've had it done in one."

"Well when you have Fury treating you like a special star, it must be easy to get things done."

"Or you just can't handle solo missions. Maybe you'd be better demoting yourself to level 3. It's not as much work."

"Your neck looks a little crooked. Too much time spent laying on your back in Fury's office?"

Before she could retort, they were interrupted by Hand. She ordered them into the debriefing room. Their newest mission was to retrieve alien technology from a notorious criminal in Paris. The device had the ability to brainwash people to obey any commands. Hand would send them the coordinates later that night. She was well aware of the intense rivalry between Elena and Moore yet put them together as a team. The rivalry between them began at the Academy. They were in the same freshman class, despite their age difference. Elena already received attention from many students because rumors spread that she was recruited by Fury himself. Moore saw her as nothing more than a ditzy teenage girl. After she beat him in their first exam, he threatened that she needed to let him be top of the class or he would make sure that she did not survive the Academy. Their fights could become very volatile, to the point of physical altercations. Elena graduating three years early only worsened the animosity between them.

No matter how many successful missions she completed or even led, he did not accept her as a real agent. In his mind, the only reason she did well was because of her looks. He had spread countless rumors that she was having affairs with superior officers to achieve her level seven position. Elena thought he was the one who deserved to be ousted from SHIELD but he was a talented agent. Known for being quick on his feet, he had been given the nickname Speedy. His own nickname for her, Bambi, was meant to be condescending, as a nod to her harmless appearance.

Elena went out onto the landing bay. Stepping onto the Bus, she searched for Coulson. He was sitting in his office, his eyes on his badge.

"Am I interrupting important thinking time?"

"Of course not. I'm sure you heard that argument between me and Hand. My temper got the better of me."

"Don't apologize. Do that more often because it was awesome."

Coulson smiled, placing his badge on the desk. "I saw that you and Agent Moore are working together. I can already tell that you're not pleased."

"Far from it. Hand's doing this on purpose. She thinks if we work together on a bunch of missions, it'll get rid of the anger between us. I'm telling you this in confidence. If he somehow disappears on the return trip, you need to back me up that it was an accident. So when do you leave for the dashing rescue?"

"Dashing rescue?"

"Coulson, you're not going to leave those two to fend for themselves. You'll make your own extraction plan. You did the same for me when my first solo misson had no extraction…and I knew it when I read the files. It's who you are. I don't have to be at my mission until later tonight so I'm good to go. You're getting old. I'll handle any angry rebels."

"Oh, I'm getting old?"

"You can barely tell," she teased.

She followed Coulson out of his office. May, Skye, and Simmons were in the cargo hold, discussing their plan to help their teammates.

"You don't need a battalion for an extraction. Three can pull it off," assured May.

"Five's better."

They glanced up at Elena and Coulson by the railing. "You're in? I thought we all had to be level eight to discuss this," said Skye.

"We're not discussing anything."

May headed to the cockpit. Within minutes, the plane was in the air, flying towards the location of the overkill device. Elena sent a message to Moore, telling him to meet her there. The plan was for her to find Ward and Fitz and bring them to the designated pick-up point. As she tied her hair up in a ponytail, Skye walked over to her.

"Is it safe for you to go alone?"

"I've handled worse. Don't be nervous. I'll get Ward and Fitz back in one piece though I have a feeling that Ward won't like me saving his ass."

"Have you met him before?"

"No, but I've heard stories. He's not exactly the poster child for friendliness."

"Definitely not."

Reaching for one of the guns in a box under the bench, her fingers brushed against the cold metal. She placed the gun into the holster around her waist. The plane landed at a clearing one hundred yards from the building. Elena sneaked into the building. Fitz was standing at the top of the staircase, holding the overkill device, while Ward fought off a burly man with rusty chains. Another man crept up behind him. She tapped his shoulder. As he turned around, she shoved her palm upwards towards his face. The man staggered back, holding his bloody nose.

"I'm sorry. I can't let you do that."

He snarled and grabbed a metal pipe from the ground. Elena dodged his attacks. Avoiding another swing, she kicked him in the stomach. He doubled over, dropping the pipe. She balanced herself on one hand and wrapped her legs around his head, bringing both of them to the ground. After a couple seconds, he fell unconscious. Ward was now fighting two men at once. She grabbed the metal pipe and swung it at the scrawnier man's back.

"What the hell are you doing here?" said Ward, choking the other man with the chains.

"Helping. A simple thank you would be nice."

"I don't remember asking for your help."

The thin man lunged at her. She dodged his attack and swiped his leg with the pipe.

"Then the rumors are true. You're about as antisocial as they come."

"Well, you don't live up to your stories. I was expecting someone like May. I've seen scarier rabbits."

Their argument continued as they fought off the rebels. "Would you two stop fighting? I want to make it out of here alive! Hart, watch out!" said Fitz.

A man three times her size grabbed her from behind, lifting her into the air. He smelled heavily of whiskey. Throwing her head back, she headbutted him and flipped him over her shoulder. She knocked him out with a swift kick to the head. Ward was pinned against a ladder by the remaining rebel. He struggled against the man's grip, getting hit by several punches. Fitz kicked the man in the face and jumped down from the ladder. He looked surprised by his own strength.

"I just did that."

"Yea."

"Come on. Let's get out of here before we're blown to pieces."

She led them outside. The SHIELD attack was underway, with explosives being dropped on the compound.

"Where's your jet?" asked Ward.

"It should be here soon."

"Soon? What kind of extraction plan is that? Were you going to just bat your eyes at the rebels and hope they'd let us go?"

"I am like five seconds from kicking in your teeth."

"Can you reach them?"

"Guys," said Fitz.

"Why don't we find out right now?" she hissed.

"Guys!"

A dozen rebels circled the compound, pointing guns at them. Elena reached into her jacket pocket and tossed a circular metal ball on the ground. The ball released thick grey smoke. She grabbed her gun, clicking the safety off, and when the smoke began to clear, she shot at the rebels. Once the smoke completely vanished, she saw the rebels laying on the ground, holding wounded legs and knees. Fitz's mouth hung open in shock.

"That was incredible."

Though she took out those men, over a dozen more replaced them. Right at that moment, she felt a light breeze above her. The Bus was hovering over the compound. May reversed the engines and blew the exhaust towards the rebels, knocking them down with ease. The cargo doors lowered and Elena, Fitz, and Ward hurried onto the plane. Ward thanked Coulson for getting them out of the compound.

"Agent Moore is following our coordinates. He's about seven minutes away."

"Joy," said Elena, sarcastically.

She went into the bathroom to wipe blood off of her. Lowering her shirt sleeve to get the last of it, she spotted a nasty burn on her right shoulder. The burn continued up to the back of her neck though half of it was covered with concealer. She found a tube of concealer in her bag. Carefully, she dabbed it onto the scar, making it match her skin tone. She was startled by a knock at the door. Pulling on her sleeve, she tossed the concealer into her bag and opened the door, seeing Coulson.

"Everything all right? Did you get injured?"

"No. I was just wiping off some rebel blood."

"Moore's landed. He'll be down shortly."

"Do you think if I pushed him out of the jet, he'd survive the water?"

"Elena…"

"You're right. Even the sharks wouldn't want him," she replied, leaving the bathroom.

"Be safe out there."

"Always am."

Elena waited in the cargo hold. Fitz, Simmons, Skye, and Ward were in the lab, listening to Fitz talk about the mission. The girls laughed as he mentioned saving Ward from Russian mobsters.

"Agent Hart, are you leaving already?" asked Simmons.

"As soon as my lovely partner shows up."

"Well, it was wonderful meeting you. I hope we'll see you again."

Skye nudged Ward's side. "I think Ward has something to say to you too."

Ward looked like it physically pained him to speak to her. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"You did—good at the compound. It was good that you were there to back us up. It wasn't necessary but—"

Elena crossed her arms. "When I got there, you were getting your ass kicked."

"I was not."

"You could barely handle two guys on your own. You're telling me that you could've taken all of them on by yourself if I never showed up? I highly doubt it."

"I would've handled it. If anything, you're the reason that it took so long to get out of there."

"Excuse me?"

"Heh, this isn't going how I thought it would at all. What Ward means, in his own twisted way, is th—" started Skye.

"If anything, Agent Broody Pants, you were the one slowing me down."

He scoffed. "I slowed you down?"

"You heard me. Fitz was there. He saw the whole thing. Tell Broody Pants here that without me, you two wouldn't have made it out of there."

"Please don't get me involved," said Fitz, shaking his head.

"Aw, why is little Bambi angry?"

Her fists clenched. Moore was at the bottom of the staircase. He looked amused by the tension between her and Ward.

"Finally, Moron. I thought it would take you six days to get down here. Get out of my way. I'm flying the jet."

"The hell you are. I'm—"

She kicked him roughly in the kneecap, fracturing it. He winced and leaned against the railing.

"I have seniority over you. If I say I'm flying the jet, then I am. You two should start your own organization…Agents of Ungrateful Jackasses."

"I am so tossing you into the ocean to be fish food," she muttered to Moore, passing him on the staircase.

"What did you say?"

"What are you going to do? Hobble after me? Try to keep up, Speedy. I'll gladly fly the jet with you hanging onto the door."

Elena waved at the others and walked up to the jet. Sitting in the cockpit, she waited for Moore to limp onboard. She picked up her laptop and typed in a special code. Video feeds popped up all over the screen. On the far right, the screen showed Coulson's team in the lab. Skye and Simmons were throwing disapproving looks at Ward. Simmons explained that it would have been polite to thank Elena for her help at the compound. The scene shifted to Coulson and May in his office, discussing a redacted file related to Skye. Hearing a door close, along with angry muttering directed towards her, she shut the laptop, hiding it in her bag, and flew the jet towards the intended destination…