It didn't matter where, or when you slept on the large floating fortress that was the Shield Helicarrier; you were always going to feel the constant vibration of the engine at work. It didn't matter it you were a new, low clearanced, underappreciated agent lying on an uncomfortable, government-issued cot resting on the lowest level floor, or Director Fury himself, who, when able, slept on the highest level sleeping quarters on the ship and had earned the privilege of a bed with more than three inches of padding in it. It also didn't differ if the great, mechanical castle was claiming the skies or trekking the oceans. When most of the lights and sounds of the base died out for the night, that dull, continuous roar of the carrier continuing to operate met every ear on board, and when the residents were at their stillest, they could feel the slight buzz of the ship they were residing on working away. Some thought the sound and motion was a nuisance, another obstacle of many to keep them from sleeping at night. Others learned to stop noticing the unavoidable product of the carrier and sleep soundly through it. And then there were others, very few, but still very present, who liked gentle hum, and found that it helped them sleep better than if it wasn't there at all.

One of these few, was Agent Tess Lane.

Lane, whose room was on one of the upper level sleeping quarters in the moving palace, was an avid fan of sleep. She found that the calm vibration of the engine helped to her doze off more peacefully, as if it was a final reassurance before she slumbered that everything was still working as it should be. Unlike the rest of the crew, she wouldn't be able to hear if something misfired; she'd have to feel it instead. This small vibration was a comfort to her, a sign that even if the world outside was falling apart, she was safe where she was.

Currently, the young woman slept without care. The day Tess was sleeping into was a Saturday, which for her meant a day off (as long as there were no global catastrophes Shield was in the care of that she needed to assist in.) She was able to sleep in until as long as she wanted, she didn't need to train in the rec room, and even though she was still required to wear her uniform out of her private living space, she didn't have to have the professional appearance that she normally would be required to have. Oh yes, she loved Saturdays. Her only day off of the week...

It was about 7:30 that Saturday, as the young woman continued to doze, when the mechanical sliding door to her room opened, a suited man stepping inside and placing a tray on the desk next to the doorway. The woman was not able to hear the security code being entered, or the whooshing sound that came with every entrance or exit, so she was unaware that she was being watched from above, a smirk looking down on her sleeping form. It wasn't until this man, standing at the end of her bed, grabbed a handful of her sheets and pulled them off her sleeping form did she realize someone else was in the room.

Her training caused her reaction before she even had time to register what was happening. Lane had quickly sprung up from her slumber, grabbing the Glock 19 on her nightstand next to the bed and clicking off the safety, pointing it at the 'threat' in front of her. She hadn't even opened her eyes yet.

Agent Phil Coulson smirked at the sight.

The woman's hair was a nest of knots and tangles and stuck out at all ends, and her night clothes were wrinkled and unkempt from her sleeping in them. Her current expression was one of quick observation and defensiveness, ready to face whatever threat was in her room. But when she saw that the only out of place object in the room was her mentor and friend, her trained expression disappeared, and one of fury and annoyance took its place. The woman roughly inhaled and exhaled through her nose as she regarded the man, and she quickly redid the safety on her weapon before all but dropping it back on her nightstand and turning back to him.

What?! she angrily motioned and mouthed to him, her eyes ablaze. His returning look was a cross between an apology and a smirk of amusement.

Wake up, he signed to her, his motions fluid and smooth, as they always were. Fury wants you training today, and I knew you wouldn't get up if I just hit the alarm to get you.

Her anger became mixed with confusion, her giving the man in front of her a face that embodied this feeling.

Why?! It's Saturday! she angrily replied. Her signs were growing larger with emphasis, and her expressions more pronounced. She looked to her alarm clock for reassurance, and sure enough, she was correct; it was that special day of the week. She also looked at the time, and then turned back to the agent. I should be sleeping for at least another three hours!

The older agent almost laughed at her statement, but refrained from doing so for fear of attack from the obviously pissed off woman. She was at heart a very mild mannered girl, Tess was; determined, but quiet. She only ever got this way when she was angry, and even then if it had been any other person, she probably wouldn't be reacting this way. He, on the other hand, was special. He got to see this side of her.

He wants you in the rec room, Tess, the man continued. I know this isn't your first pick of activities to be doing on a Saturday morning, but just do what the Director says. Plus, I knew you weren't going to be happy about this sooo... He paused for a moment and turned to the side, gesturing to the desk in her room. I brought breakfast.

Tess turned her head to her right, and saw what he was pointing to. On her desk was a tray piled with food, and to be more specific, all her favorites. There was bacon, potatoes, pineapple, strawberries, an omelette that looked to be stuffed with mushrooms, spinach, and cheese, a biscuit, and a tall glass of juice. It all looked delicious, and though she absent mindedly wondered how Phil knew all of her favorite breakfast foods (she stopped worrying about this kind of stuff a long time ago), her mouth started to water, and her stomach growled. Shield had employed some fantastic cooks. She had learned this very quickly when she first arrived at the carrier.

She turned back to glare at the man.

You think you can buy me off with food.

He smirked. Can't I? She continued her death look at him, and he took that as a yes. Be there by 8:15.

Sighing, Tess nodded her head, accepting defeat. Fine. What are we doing today, then?

His expression changed ever so slightly. This was the question he had been preparing for. I don't know what you'll be doing. I'm flying out soon to meet with Doctor Selvig, so I won't be training you today.

The girl paused.

Oh... It was a moment before she continued. Is Natasha back then? I didn't hear anything about her returning.

Phil didn't answer her for a moment, and instead bit his lip as he looked at her.

No, she's not.

Tess's eyes grew to the size of plates. Phil and Natasha were her normal trainers, one taking the other's place when one wasn't present. Occasionally Barton would fill in for Natasha if she asked him to, but she knew for a fact he wouldn't be doing it. He was stationed at Selvig's base. Hill even sparred with her for a time a few months ago when Phil was on a mission, but that was a very rare occurrence. So because none of those options were available, that meant there was only one person left to be with her. Her mouth hung open.

Phil! I hate training with Carpenter! I never get to try anything new, and all she wants me to do is create a field again and again and again! I want some target practice! I would rather have Fury train me!

He sighed; he knew this reaction would be coming. Though he knew and understood why Tess didn't liked Agent Carpenter, he didn't have another choice. Hill was too busy to train today, none of her usuals were on base, and no one else on the carrier could know about her powers. Most of the agents there didn't have enough clearance to know what she could do.

I will ask her to include that today, he told Lane, trying to calm her down. I know you don't like her, and believe me, I tried to see if Hill could do it, but she can't. I'm sorry. He paused for a moment, and took a breath. A relaxed but unyielding look came on his face. Now, I'm leaving in fifteen minutes. I don't want to hear that you gave her a hard time, got it? He meant this as partly a joke and partly as a warning.

Tess rolled her eyes at him. She was thirty-one years old and he said this to her like she was ten. She know he didn't mean anything by it, but Phil had become much of a surrogate father for her since she gotten there two years ago, and he seemed to know he had acquired this role. He was just reminding her. He knew she never gave anyone a hard time on the carrier. Hell, she hardly ever conversed with any of the other agents.

Yeah, yeah. Who do I give a hard time anyway. She signed this more as a statement than a question.

She started to rise from her bed, standing on her feet and stretching upward. She then looked over at Phil once more, giving him a questioning look as she remembered something.

You never said why Fury wants me training today.

Phil's face looked as if it fell a little, but she only knew because she was around him so often. Any other person would have never noticed.

We don't know... he began, but didn't finish his sentence. He then started a new one. We want you to be prepared. Things are going to be changing soon and it's... just in case. The look on his face left no room for a response, so she left it at that. She nodded to him.

Stay out of trouble, he then told her with a smirk, the previous look disappearing from his face. She waved him off, giving him a Whatever, before she told him the same. Phil then left the room, the sliding door announcing his exit.

Tess watched after him for a moment, and then started on her breakfast, never getting off her face. Eating a piece of bacon between her fingers, she walked back to her nightstand and picked up her headpiece, placing it on her right ear. Turning it on, she smiled slightly as sound flowed through her ears, the noises of a busy helicarrier outside dancing in her head.

She bite off a piece of her breakfast and sighed. She hoped it wasn't going to be one of those days.

Training was just as Tess expected it to be; repetitive, mundane, irritating. Agent Sarah Carpenter once again only trained her in the very basics of her skills, basics that she had mastered within a year of her realizing her abilities. She was able to practice her aim... for about ten minutes in her three hour allotted training time. This irked the woman, angry that even a request from Agent Coulson couldn't make her change her unyielding, constant agenda. She didn't understand why she was so set on making Tess create a field that she had already demonstrated many a time before she could.

Her itinerary wasn't the only reason Lane disliked Carpenter. It was her expressions, looking down at her as if she had some kind of power over her. She spoke very little to Tess, but when she did it was as if she was speaking to a child, slowly and carefully, like she wouldn't be able to understand. But she understood perfectly; Carpenter underestimated her. It made the woman's blood boil, that even though she was one of the few who knew what she could do, she would look at her that way. But as always, she said nothing. She held her tongue; getting angry at the agent wasn't going to make anything better.

After the three hours of her personal hell, Tess walked to the locker rooms to clean up and change into her uniform. Her training suit, though it was not covered in sweat due to her lack of exertion, wasn't suitable to be walking around the base in. When she looked presentable again, she began to walk towards the bridge of the ship. There wasn't anything or anybody she was looking for in particular; she just wanted to be around people, even if she wasn't speaking to anyone.

Upon arriving, Lane was met with the usual aura of activity that she was used to in the bustle of Shield agents. The bridge, the center of all activity on the Helicarrier, was crowded with people, most of whom were either stationed at computers doing some kind of technical work, or walking around hurriedly, files present in their hands. Tess, who had no work to complete like the agents in front of her, slightly leaned against the railing out of everyone's way as she watched them all.

Tess was often regarded as 'the agent who wasn't an agent,' sometimes as a jest, and sometimes as an explanation, because in truth, that was what she was. Though she was trained to an extent as an agent and given the title as one, she didn't have the same roles or duties of a normal agent of Shield. Ever since her arrival at Shield, Fury had her training with agents to help improve her abilities, and mainly, only that. She had never been on a mission, never had to file paperwork, or never was put in the line of fire. She was basically the backup if it was needed, despite her powers. But despite all this, she was given a title and level 7 clearance. This made many on the ship resent her.

But none of them knew how hard she trained, how hard she had been pushed for control. There were only six people who frequented the Helicarrier who knew of her abilities, so to the rest of the crew, she was woman who didn't do anything and somehow found the lift to the top of the food chain. But they didn't understand. Her background, her story was a secret. She was a deaf X-gene carrier who had escaped the clutches of AIM to be rescued by Shield. No one knew this, no one even suspected what she could do. She didn't just have level 7 clearance; she was level 7 clearance.

She had asked Coulson before why Fury didn't put her in the field, make her be a productive member of Shield. He only told her that Fury wanted her to train and improve her abilities because he was saving her for bigger and better things.

She stayed in her position for awhile, watching the agents scurry about the room and carry out their tasks, avoiding the curious glances of those who looked up at her. However, after a time of standing there, she had to leave her spot on the railing. She had a habit of reading the lips of those her eyes settled on, but because they weren't positioned directly towards her and kept turning on their feet as they spoke, if gave her a headache to keep concentrating on something that came so easily to her. She slowly turned around on the bridge, something catching her eye.

Lane looked above to identify was caught her sight, and she was easily able to tell what, or who, it was. Director Fury was standing on the platform above her, dressed in his usual garb of dark clothing outlined by a long, black trench coat, watching her with his vision that seemed to look right into a person. He didn't turn his head when he and Tess locked gazes, and instead continued to watch her, as if he was analyzing every cell in her body. Used to the examination but still not comfortable with it, she nodded to him, and he responded the same way. She then continued walking, her destination not far from where the Director was standing.

Walking up a short flight of stairs, Tess quietly made her way to her stop, an unoccupied lab on her right. Upon walking near it, the sliding glass doors opened and allowed her to enter, a cool blast of air hitting her as her walked in. The lab was one of many on the Helicarrier, but she liked this one the best because of it's view of the bridge; she could always look down on all of the agents at work from her seat in the corner of the room. The empty work space was equipped with all the latest and advanced gadgets and technology Shield could get its hands on. Not that that was much of a problem for the highly classified government agency. Their requests for anything were very promptly met. The flashy gizmos meant nothing to the woman, however; she wouldn't know a computer from an expensive gamma ray scanner anyway.

Sitting in her seat next to the large window, she picked up one her books that was in a small pile under the chair. She kept a few there whenever she left so that she would be able to chose when she came back. Reaching under the seat and ticking up the pile to select what she wanted to read, she looked at the five books neatly stacked on top of each other in her hands. Tracing her fingers along the spines, she selected the one F. Scott Fitzgerald book she had. Though she loved contemporary novels, she wanted to read all the classics too. Relaxing into the chair, she flipped to the page she was currently on, and began to let her mind wander to the excitement and splendor of the roaring 20's, and the follies of Nick and Gatsby.