"Sir?"

"Yes, Agent Hill?" Fury responded, striding down the hall. The agent fell into step, hurrying to keep up.

"About Stark's LookOut program." Fury took a moment to stare her down as he swung open the door to a conference room. With a quick hand motion, he sent a handful of techies with lunch bags scuttling out. Hill followed him in, standing just by the door.

"What about it, Agent? Is there a problem?"

"No, sir."

"Good. We paid him a lot of money for that." The director settled back into his chair, hands folded.

"Sir, we got a hit on Waverly East." Fury's eye sharpened on Hill like a laser. In all honesty, she was a little surprised. It had been so long since the assignment had been given that she'd thought Fury had forgotten about it. Evidently not.

"Took it long enough. Where was she?"

"Stark Tower in New York," she said, giving him a significant look. There was a pause as he processed. Suddenly, Fury scoffed.

"What a surprise. Now, I want-"

"Sir?" The table in front of him lit up, the image of a telephone glowing in blue. "Incoming call."

The director sighed, then leaned forward, pressing the display. "I accept." A loading symbol appeared and Fury glanced at Hill. "Sometimes, I wonder if it's a mistake to go so technological."

"Then you tell yourself that it's better to be ahead of the game than behind it," Hill finished, remembering the other seven times he'd lectured SHIELD agents on that topic.

"Exactly." To Fury's right, the conference room's screen blinked on, the face of Phil Coulson suddenly plastered on the wall.

"Morning, sir. How's Atlanta?"

"Philadelphia, Agent. I wasn't expecting a report from you today."

Coulson grimaced. "This- isn't a report."

Fury leaned forward. "What happened?"

Coulson glanced down and away, then back up. "The O-8-4 from Halifax is missing. We believe it was stolen."

Fury leaned against the table. Hill looked away, the man's stony expression reminding her of a time when he'd stood in his New York office, watching a cleaning crew siphon glitter out of his favorite leather armchair. "Agent Coulson, what did your team do?"

"You're the girl from the Albany mission three years ago. Blonde hair, blue streak, ran down a hallway and vanished into thin air."

"Right into the fire, then," Waverly said, turning to Natasha. The rest of the Avengers looked up from their cards, Tony making a discrete time-out gesture. Waverly laid the Uno deck back on the table. "Yes. That was me."

Natasha's eyes stayed fixed on her. "What happened?"

"Just what I told you. I'd been walking in the woods, and got jumped. I woke up there."

"And fought and beat the dozen adults that were in the room."

Waverly grinned. "Did you see my fight with Sunflower?" On the corner couch, Thor shifted, grumbling.

"I never heard about you after that," Natasha continued. "Ever. Why not?"

Waverly thumbed at her cards. She sighed.

"Agent-" She stopped. "Agent Coulson was assigned my case. We met a few times and he- decided to keep some things out of SHIELD records. Out of sight."

"He was a good man," Steve commented.

Waverly stared at the Uno cards. "He was my friend."

Hill had long since noticed that Fury had a tendency to lean back when upset. At an unsatisfying report, he'd ease back into his chair, fingers knitted together. A disrespectful subordinate often caused the squeak of the recliner function. At the end of Coulson's story, Fury looked ready for a graceful backwards dive onto the meeting room floor.

"There wasn't even a tracker placed on it?"

"No, sir. To be fair, we didn't think it would leave our custody."

"That went well, now, did it? Is there any way to find it?" Fury asked.

"Well," Coulson started, face already scrunched into a negative. Then, the agent's eyes flickered to the side, as if looking at someone. He pinched his lips together, then started again. "Actually, we were given information about obtaining the identity of the recipient."

Fury's glare deepened. "When?"

"In Halifax, sir."

Hill shifted forward, legitimately worried about the safety of the director's head as it drew ever nearer to the ground.

"What information?" he growled out.

"We were told by a woman called Tyche that, well," Coulson's image shifted on the screen as he again looked to the side. "According to her, we could ask Waverly East."

Fury's chair snapped straight. A moment passed, and Hill could almost swear she heard a chuckle. "That's some good news, Agent."

"Is it, Director?" Coulson asked warily.

"Agent Coulson, I want your team to back off of this assignment. Stay in Halifax, but keep a low profile. I'm bringing this to the Avengers."

"The Avengers, sir?" Coulson's expression scrunched again, confused and evidently a little scared. "Are they even assembled?"

Fury straightened his trench coat as he stood. "They are right now. And I hear they have a visitor. Goodbye, Agent."

The screen flicked off and the director finally turned back to Hill.

"You know what I need."

Maria nodded. "Yes, sir."

What a box. One that curators, collectors, and art thieves across the world would hunger over and dream about, if only they knew of its existence. Probably better this way, as a secret buried deeper than an ocean trench. So beautiful. Such delicate designs, such intricate features. A box of pure, never tarnishing silver- and the contents. Talk about the real treasure.

Such trouble, too, using that creepy shop to get the box, only to have to track it down again.

Speaking of the shop... he hadn't expected to see Wave. They hadn't met in so long. Did she even realize who she'd seen? He frowned, and shook off the thought. Ducking his head, his fingers traced engraved silver words. Never to see the light of day. Never to meet the dark of night. Gods willing.

A waste, leaving it to dust over, never opened, in the hands of humans. Not that any human could lift the lid.

Too bad for them, he thought, sitting hidden, a shadow under a canopy of trees, as a black government jet rose above the woods, that some things only open for a demigod's touch.

AN: Oh my god, I am so sorry. I know that I have not posted in over a year. I know that you probably forgot all about this story. I have no excuses. I could have done things. I didn't. But I wanted to. I will do everything in my power not to abandon this story again. I will finish it, I promise you. Considering it's New Year's Day, this is my New Year's resolution.

If any of you are still willing to read this, know that I'm eternally grateful, and appreciate everything you have to say about it. The reviews I've gotten, even after months, have been one of my greatest sources of motivation. Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed.