Ivy here.

It was a couple weeks after all of this that I received a visit from Bobbi Morse.

I had been out shopping for the afternoon, getting groceries, and returned to my little apartment with Phillip in a carrier on my back and three shopping bags in each hand.

I set down all of the bags and unlocked the door, then reached down for the bags.

"Here, let me get those, Ivy."

I spun around to see Bobbi Morse picking up my grocery bags.

I responded by punching her in the face.

The blow sent her staggering backwards against the wall.

"You... you..." I couldn't articulate my rage properly, so I slapped her again.

"Can we just talk about this inside, please?"

I picked up my bags and carried them inside.

She followed, shutting the door behind us.

"Let me guess," I said. "There's a team of 'real' S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who will bring me into the 'real' S.H.I.E.L.D. if I don't come with you peacefully."

She shook her head. "Just you and me."

"And I should trust your word? You lied to everyone." I'd known something was going on, but I sort of thought it had to do with Hawkeye, I don't know... "I wanted to think the best, when I knew something was going on. I wanted to like you. Now, I just want to lose my temper." My hands shook. "I let you near my son. Did you plant a tracker on him?"

"No!"

"You know where traitors end up? The innermost circle of Hell." For the record, Miranda told me that when she read Dante's Inferno. I don't think that's actually theologically correct.

"How do you know my real name?"

"We got it from the files."

And so they all knew now. Brilliant. Just brilliant. "The Fortune Seller has exactly one thing to say to anyone affiliated with the 'real' S.H.I.E.L.D. – they're all..." I searched for a word to express my indignation - "They're all short sighted and they're going to regret this. Eventually."

"It's the real S.H.I.E.L.D., as it was meant to be."

"Look. I'm tired. I don't have the energy to argue with you, but I will say this – if you think that deception and tricks are what S.H.I.E.L.D. was 'meant to be', you're wrong. Director Fury chose Director Coulson as a successor. Your directors, instead of approaching Agent Coulson about their concerns, inserted moles and spies into his organization to steal his secrets. A person should do what they believe is right, but that is simply wrong."

"I know about Natalia."

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "How?"

"It wasn't in the files. But..."

"Simmons."

"She didn't tell me, or anyone. There was video footage we pulled... I'm sorry. No one knew."

"If you have something to say about finding Natalia, say it. If not, get out of my apartment."

"I might know a way to find her."

I raised an eyebrow. She couldn't... could she?

"Look, we went through all of Coulson's files. We know how your powers work – and S.H.I.E.L.D. has decided that you are not a threat for the present."

"Don't lie."

"They want to take you in. There's a team waiting outside."

"Of course there is – I wouldn't expect them to let you do this alone. While we're on that subject, S.H.I.E.L.D. is not meant to kill and entrap the gifted. Only the dangerous ones, if necessary. Not just any person who happens to have powers. And Gonzales is a hypocritical liar. He claims he wants transparency and honesty, then decieves and betrays. Instead of, you know, talking to Director Coulson like somebody with HONEST intentions would!" My voice rose to a shrill scream.

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about this with you right now, Ivy."

"Alright. But I am prepared for this problem, Ms. Morse."

"Agent Morse."

"No. Ms. Morse. If you can consider Coulson's S.H.I.E.L.D. to not be S.H.I.E.L.D., I can do the same to you."

She didn't press the point. "What's your plan?"

"Well, I have several. Since I'm not fond of the idea of calling in favors and having all of your men taken out – my neighbors down the hall would be upset at the noise, Mrs. Watson is expecting, you see – I'll simply transfer to a different apartment, in another city."

"You have more than one?"

"I have a steady stream of customers. They all pay well. I have several hiding places scattered across the globe, and I can be there at the touch of a button."

"Hear me out, okay? I talked to your friend Edward – as in, I, on my own, S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't know about it – and he told me the circumstances. He thought I knew, he was under the impression that you kept Coulson informed about everything."

I'd forgive Edward for that one, I'd never given him reason to believe otherwise. He'd never do anything to undermine me.

"And you're willing to cut me some kind of deal. I help you, you help me."

"No. We actually have a pretty good idea of who it was."

My jaw dropped.

"HYDRA agent. When they were interrogating you, he was on premises. He was barely involved in the … interrogation itself, but he was there. Somehow, the two of you brushed against each other or something and he got the energy you travel between universes on. Edward was vague on the details about what happened, but the way it seems to us, he somehow got transported to that planet, realized what was going on, and took revenge on you in the way he could. Then he somehow ended up here. He's dead now – he knew too much. Dr. Whitehall killed him."

I pulled off my blond wig and set it on the table. Stupid thing.

"When I found everything out, I did a little digging for you. As it turns out, your daughter had some of the energy on her too – from you holding her, I suppose."

"Where is she?"

"I can't answer that. It's all universes and dimensions and things far beyond me. But doesn't just look in this universe. Try some others. Working with you... some things have fallen through."

"Like what?"

"I used to think Heartland was a TV show, until I ended up in the middle of it on my last mission."

"You watch Heartland?" I don't like horse shows myself, but Ariel had made me sit through a few episodes.

"Anyhow, apparently there's a criminal named Raymond Reddington who works with the FBI. Try contacting him."

Once upon a time, I would have laughed at the idea of making any business for a criminal like that. But If he knew something... "Why do you suggest him?"

"Long story. But he might be able to help. He could probably provide more help than S.H.I.E.L.D. If we had anything for you, I'd offer to trade if for information."

"Aren't you supposed to be arresting me and bringing me in?"

She shrugged. "In sixty seconds, they'll be bursting through the door. I'd get moving if I were you."

I picked up Phillip, wrapping him in his blanket, then walked into my bedroom and pulled my emergency bag from under my bed. "Thank you, Ms. Morse. There's ice in the fridge to put on the swelling in your face."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and when my neighbors – the Watsons – show up, feel free to tell them the truth, they knew about what I was up to. No, they don't know where I'm going, do not interrogate them or anything like that. I will find out if you do."

I pressed one of the buttons on my teleporter.

The next moment I stood in the little apartment I'd bought in New York.

It was small – a tiny kitchen/dining room with a bedroom off of it. Not spacious. I could have bought a larger one, but had wanted to stay off the radar. This way, I looked like a single mother with a small source of income.

I pulled sheets off the crib I kept waiting and placed Phillip in it.

There went my London apartment. Ah well. Maybe Mrs. Hudson would rent out something to me in a few months, once they stopped looking for me in London. Dr. Watson might put in a good word for me.

I glanced around. There was little furniture – I would have to deal with that, of course. Arrangements could be made. The dust would need to be cleaned up.

I dropped the bag and began to unpack.

This apartment needed to be my home now.

Flowers. I should get some flowers. I needed a hobby, something to occupy time when I was at home. I missed flowers – we used to have tulips everywhere on the front lawn. I love tulips. They die every year, but they just keep reappearing every year. They just don't seem to die, do they? I'd have to find out if they could take being grown inside. Too bad I'd left my Easter lilies back in London.

I'd need a new name, of course. My old one wouldn't do. And there was no chance I'd use my initials this time. Something unique, something no one would connect with me... Rebecca. Rebecca Brown. That would be nice. Rebecca was a pretty name.

I only tell you this, of course, because you are just people on the internet who will almost certainly never actually meet me. If you do meet me, tell me you're a reader of these stories at once.

I guess that's all for now. Just thought I'd fill you in on a few important details. No, as of yet, Skye and I haven't talked since our argument. I considered visiting, but didn't want to get her in trouble, there's been enough of that. Besides, I don't really know how to find the place.

And here's where I sign off. I'll have to dig out the name of that person Miranda sends these recordings to.