Serenade

Author: Frost on Maples

Author's Notes: Please accept my apologies - this was previously posted, but due to problems with editing I took it down to do some corrections, and then real life went a bit crazy...

I don't own the Avengers, the latest sandbox I'm playing in belongs to Marvel/Disney. Really. If you think otherwise, I'm sure I have some swampland for sale somewhere that would be a great deal!

This is a follow-up to the movie from the perspective of a character that is often forgotten or ignored in favor of other relationships. I thought it only fair that this person gets at least one fic...

Many thanks to the great bunch at the Beta Branch, especially Cariadne, for betaing this. My writing skills are a work in progress, and the help was very much appreciated. Any mistakes are solely mine.

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She stayed behind after rehearsal. Extra practice was needed - her distraction had led to a performance she considered less than acceptable. She had standards to maintain. Her mind wandered as the cello sang Saint-Saens' The Swan - the rich tones reminded her of a past concert, with warm hazel eyes watching...

Caught up in memory, she didn't realize for several minutes that her fingers had shifted to another melody, the mournful strains of the short Eagle's Serenade better reflecting her melancholy. Professionally, the move to Portland had made sense - there weren't very many opportunities to be first chair cellists - but personally, she found herself thinking more and more of New York, and what - who - she had left behind.

New York. The music slowed as memory called up the images on the news. Invading aliens, superheroes - she was glad to be on the opposite side of the country, but she was worried. He had never told her very much about his job, beyond the fact that he worked for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. She had a foreboding feeling that that would entail being around when an alien invasion threatened New York...

He hadn't returned her call.

She suddenly realized she had strayed from the The Swan. Deep breath - clear the mind - She started again, determined to have at least one successful run-through of her part of the piece before leaving. Her eyes closed in concentration, she didn't notice movement in the shadows.

legato...tiny bit more dolce...and vibrato... She smiled in satisfaction as the notes finally matched her expectations.

She opened her eyes - and jumped with a small shriek, her bow falling to the ground. She was used to being oblivious while concentrating on her music, but this was the first time she had someone get so close while unaware.

Her first impression was towering height - not just physically, but in attitude. Bald, black, with an eyepatch and long leather coat, she found herself totally intimidated, while an irreverent voice in the back of her mind whispered, 'screw Johnny Depp, this guy would be a kickass pirate king'. He seemed puzzlingly familiar - she was sure she had never seen him before, but there was something...

"Louisa Sinclair?" His voice boomed in the acoustics of the hall. For all that it resonated with authority, it seemed toned down, almost gentle.

"Yes," she confirmed. She looked around, noting shadowy figures at each entrance (securing the room, his voice whispered, from a memory of New York). "Who are you?" Dread started to stir in her chest.

"My name is Nick Fury. I am the director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." For all that he was intimidating - downright frightening - his face was full of compassion. She felt her mouth go dry, and suddenly realized that her hand on the neck of the cello was shaking. "I need to speak to you about Phil Coulson..."