"Steve," Clint said through his earpiece. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," he answered breathlessly, pocketing the card.
"The woman, you saw her?"
"Yes."
"Spoke to her?"
"Yes. She didn't have much to say."
"Is she still there?"
"No."
"Where did she go?" Natasha demanded, breaking Clint's silence.
He shook his head in disbelief, "I don't know. I had her cornered in an alley, but she sunk through a wall."
There was silence from both spies before Tony decided to speak up.
"What do you mean 'sunk through a wall'?"
"I don't know how to explain it," he replied. "She just…fell through. As if she wasn't real."
"…So, what? Steve's new friend is a ghost?"
"We need to notify Fury. Add walking through walls to the list," Clint announced.
"What list? Who was this woman?" Tony inquired, sounding a bit irritated at being left out of the loop.
"Steve, you'll need to report to Fury when we get back to the Helicarrier," Natasha stated, pointedly ignoring Tony's questions. "There's a quinjet waiting on the street you
just left."
"Right," he answered. "I'm on my way."
Steve removed the earpiece before Tony could finish his protests about no one letting him know just what was going on. He imagined the genius was probably threatening to
hack into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s systems again to find out. And Natasha would no doubt return the threat with a much more creative incentive to leave well enough alone. He truly
didn't want to hear a repeat of a conversation long since overused.
A quinjet was, indeed, waiting for him in the street. The loading door opened to reveal a familiar agent with receding brown hair. The man offered a smile which Steve returned
politely.
"I thought you were assigned to a long-term project," he asked as he stepped into the jet.
Coulson gave a shrug, "Director Fury called me back for the time being. Said he had something important to brief me on."
"Does it have anything to do with that woman we just saw?"
"Most likely," the agent answered.
The short trip up to the Helicarrier was filled with conversations of what had gone on since they had last seen each other. Coulson told him about the time spent in Tahiti and
tracking down the Centipede before Steve explained Freyja's arrival and her battle with Thanos. The agent seemed surprised to hear the trickster god that had nearly put him
in a grave had been, and still was, in love with the Vanir goddess. But, then, everyone had been surprised to hear that. Everyone except Thor.
"Seems strange to think he was in love like anyone else," the agent commented. "Almost makes him seem more human."
"You should have seen her when she spoke to me about what he did in New York. It turns out he was being mind-controlled like Clint."
Coulson frowned, "That would explain why he didn't seem all that motivated."
Steve nodded, hands gripping the armrests beside his seat as the quinjet landed. Both walked out of the jet and towards the door leading to the inside of the Helicarrier.
"Apparently he and Freyja are working things out. She sent a message a while back saying there was trouble in Asgard."
"What's trouble to a god?"
Steve shrugged, "I don't know. It must really take up her time since she didn't send an astral projection to tell us."
Coulson raised his eyebrows at the term, but didn't question it. Steve may still have not quite grasped everything the 21st century entailed, but he was a quick learner and
remembered much of what he was told. So Freyja's explanations of magic had made a bit more sense to him. When they entered the main deck inside, Agent Hill called Coulson
away and the two said their farewells.
Though he took up residence in a floor of Stark Tower, Steve knew his way around the Helicarrier well enough to tell where Fury's office was. The few agents he knew nodded
to him as they passed in the halls. He wouldn't say the agents were more than acquaintances, but they were friendly enough. The Director was waiting at his desk, reading
over some form or other. He gestured for Steve to take a seat, not yet looking up.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Stark seems to think he can get away with not sending in his paperwork."
"Sir?"
Fury looked up at last, putting aside his pen, "Agent Romanoff tells me you've seen our mystery hero."
"The hooded girl?"
Fury nodded, "Did she leave anything?"
Steve pulled out the card he had taken from the alley and placed it on the desk. Fury turned it around so he could see it before pulling open a drawer and tossing something
next to it. Steve leaned forward to see another card almost completely identical to the first. If it hadn't been for the slight difference, perhaps a slip in the hand holding the
brush, he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.
"The woman you just met is only known as 'the Alchemist'. It's uncertain as to whether she is the result of an underground experiment or something similar to Freyja's species.
Appearing in places to help stop small-scale crimes is her MO."
"Her what?"
"Modus Operandi, a habit of operating," Fury answered. "She incapacitates murderers, rapists, thieves, and the like, leaves a card, calls the cops, and disappears by the time
anyone arrives.
"Then why would she help us? This wasn't a store robbery or something small. What drove her down here?"
"No one knows. We've been attempting to track her whereabouts for nearly a year now."
"What do you mean 'attempting'?"
Fury gave a sardonic chuckle, "Her escapades range from Seattle to San Antonio and Miami. There's no pattern in her appearances and seemingly no particular reason for her
to be there. We haven't found so much as an ID to match her. But, we've learned she's not the only one."
Steve frowned in confusion, "The only one of what, sir?"
"We don't know. Tell me what you can about the Alchemist. Did she say anything to you?"
"Not much," he answered, unhappy with the Director's dismissive reply. "She didn't seem too keen on talking. We were in the middle of a fight…"
"What about her powers?"
Steve gave an exasperated look, "She could control fire, melt weapons without touching them, phase through things, almost as if she wasn't real, mmm… she gave one of the
aliens chemical burns."
"Chemical burns?"
"Skin started melting away, spots popped up…"
"Radiation poisoning," Fury murmured, frowning thoughtfully. "She was wearing all black and a long hood, correct?"
Steve nodded, "Yes, sir."
"Did you see her face? Her eyes? Anything that could narrow down who we're looking for?"
"No, her face was almost completely covered. Director, if she helps stop crimes, why are you looking for her?"
"S.H.I.E.L.D. monitors all potential threats to this world and the human race."
"But you've said she just catches the convicts and leaves. In my time, that was something to be applauded for, not hunted."
"But we can't be certain she'll always be helpful. Who's to say she won't decide to turn?"
"Then shouldn't the punishment wait until after she commits a crime, if she does so at all?"
"We need to neutralize the threat before it arrives."
"Is that why she ran when I mentioned S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
Fury seemed to tense for a second, "We've had no contact with her."
"And yet she still went running when I said the medics here could help her," Steve pointed out, growing uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation.
"I can't speculate about the motives behind her actions. Is there anything else you remember about her? Anything that coul
d help us find her?"
Steve stood up and walked towards the door, turning just before he left.
"When she was fighting those aliens, she wasn't using a technique. Watching her was like watching a street fight. She doesn't have any form of training," he stated, meeting
Fury's gaze evenly. "I wouldn't peg her as much of a threat, powers or not."
Without another word, he left the office. The door slammed shut behind him, making his final thoughts known.
The agent came to with a pained groan. His head throbbed from whatever had happened to catch him unawares. Shock rippled through him as he tried to move his arms and
found them bound behind him. His eyes glanced over his surroundings quickly as he tried to assess the situation. Across from him, a door slid open and the woman he had been
tracking walked in.
She wore the same hooded jacket she had worn in all the pictures he had been given. He strained against his bonds, unintelligible groans escaping through the gag tied around
his mouth. She pulled the cloth away before turning the empty chair across from him around and taking a seat.
"Sorry for the wait," she stated amiably. "I had to make sure no one else was with you."
"What do you want?"
She scoffed, "I think I'm the one who needs to ask that question. You're the sixth agent sent after me in two months. Did your boss really think I wouldn't notice the people in
black trailing me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.
The air seemed to take on an uncomfortable compressing sensation. The agent coughed slightly, feeling as though something was pressing against his ribcage.
"Don't lie to me," she warned. "I've let your people off without so much as a scratch. Despite what your boss may believe, I have a life to worry about. Bills to pay, mouths to
feed, jobs to work. I don't have time to comb my trail for any stragglers."
"I don't think you realize that I have no clue what you mean."
"Really?" the woman snapped, pulling his S.H.I.E.L.D. ID card from his pocket and glancing inside. "This says differently. You people have some thick skulls. I want you to go
back to whoever sent you, and I want you to tell him to stop looking for me."
"Or what?"
The woman stood up abruptly, her fingers brushing lazily over his right hand. The agent grit his teeth in pain as angry red welts bloomed across his skin. His breathing became
short and shallow as the marks traveled up his arm.
"I'm tired of having to constantly look over my shoulder," she snapped. "You tell your boss that I'm not his enemy unless he forces me to be."
Her hand grasped the back of his neck tightly and his back arched off the chair as pain rippled through his body. His pants turned into gasps as he struggled to stay conscious.
"I don't want to have to hurt anyone, but that doesn't mean I'm not capable."
Her hand left his skin and she kneeled before him. As he gazed up in exhaustion, he managed to see two stormy gray eyes. They almost looked conflicted, angry and grieving
and scared. His jaw went slack in surprise. He had been expecting a strong and powerful woman who wasn't afraid to kill. Instead, he saw just how young her shadowed face
was.
"Unbelievable," he muttered.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, "What?"
"Under all that bravado," he said with a shaky laugh, "you're just a terrified girl. You're barely older than I am, aren't you?"
A fist slammed against his cheek and he tasted blood as his teeth closed down on his tongue.
"Well, Agent Ward, I have a message for S.H.I.E.L.D. Next time I find one of your agents trailing me," she warned. "I'll give him or her stage four cancer."
She left without another word, the steel door closing with a resounding slam. Ward glanced up with a satisfied smirk before the amusement was overpowered by the lingering
sting in his new wounds. He tilted his head slightly to reach the wire on the inside of his suit and spoke.
"Did you get all that?"
"Every word," Coulson replied.
"Do you think we have enough for voice recognition?"
"Skye's running it now," the older agent answered, pausing slightly. "How are you feeling?"
"Like my skin's melting off. How long will it take for the team to get in here?"
"May will be there in five minutes. Did she take your ID?"
"Yes, sir. We should have a location soon."
There was another pause before Ward spoke up again.
"Is Director Fury really going to send someone after her? She seems to be harmless except when provoked."
"We'll send Agents Romanoff and Barton to watch her, see if we can find a way to bring her in without angering her."
Ward nodded, though he knew Coulson couldn't see him, "My sympathies for the poor sap they send in to retrieve her."
It was nearly a week later when Steve found himself in the gym room, or rather gym floor, of Stark Tower. The section of the floor which Steve was in had been specifically
designed for him. Holograms of Nazis, Tony's personal idea, appeared at random and charged towards or around him. He flung his shield at the holograms, causing them to
shatter into pixels as it flew through them and bounced off the walls. A thin sheen of sweat had coated his skin and his shirt stuck to his chest.
Still he pushed himself harder, channeling all of his frustration at Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. into each swing of his shield. He hated being in the dark, hated not knowing what made this unfamiliar world work, hated not being sure if he was doing the right thing or not. But he couldn't seem to do anything about it. So he trained harder, despite not
needing to.
Suddenly noticing movement out of the corner of his eyes, Steve swung around and flung the shield in the direction of the shape. He only had an instant to register a certain
philanthropist's eyes widening before the rather slender superhero ducked as the vibranium disk flew by. It ricocheted off the wall and hit another hologram before Steve managed to catch it again.
"Jarvis, shut off the simulator, please."
The holograms immediately dissipated and Tony stood up cautiously.
"Watch where you're throwing that thing, Spangles," Tony snapped. "I'd like to keep my head."
"Sorry," he answered automatically. "What is it you wanted?"
The dark-haired genius leaned against the wall, "Jarvis says your stress level has been through the roof since our last mission."
Steve raised an eyebrow, "You're having Jarvis monitor my health?"
"My apologies, sir," the butler's voice suddenly piped up.
"What has your spandex in a knot?" the billionaire pushed on.
"S.H.I.E.L.D.," he said with sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Tony raised his eyebrows, "Finally realize it's not quite as clean as they've been leading you to think?"
"Something's off about this whole Alchemist business. There's something Fury's not telling me."
"Alchemist? That whole clandestine hero-girl mix-up last week?"
Steve nodded, "Fury says there's very little information on her, but she seems to know us."
"There's always a quick way to tell if he's lying," Tony hinted with a knowing smirk.
"Just how many times have you hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database?"
Tony gave a dismissive wave, "Enough for Fury to hire a new programming team. Twice."
Steve sighed in resignation, "How much can you find?"
The grin on Tony's face was almost enough to scare him off, "Let's see. Jarvis, start the new program, will you?"
"Bond 2.0, sir?" Jarvis asked as they walked out towards the elevator.
Steve frowned at the name, knowing he had heard it before. But he couldn't place it. He had missed so much of what had happened while he was frozen that it was taking
forever to catch up on everything. P
ulling his notepad and pencil out of his jacket pocket, he quickly scrawled 'Bond' along one of the clear lines. His eyes slid over the evergrowing
list of terms, names, and movies he had missed. It had been Natasha's idea to write everything and he had found it useful beyond measure.
Replacing the notepad in his pocket, Steve followed Tony out of the elevator and into his expansive labs. Holographic screens floated around the room like ghostly mirrors.
Every flat surface, including some of the floor, was covered in everything ranging from a wide array of pens to scribbled-on papers to scraps of metal and tools. A few of
Tony's robots rolled across the floor, one brandishing a fire extinguisher.
Much to Steve's confusion, Tony eyed this particular drone with a skeptical expression as they walked by. It was almost as if the billionaire was expecting the robot to attack
them. As he reached one of the screens, a face popped up in front of the loading symbol. It was an almost unassuming face, pale and smooth with short-cropped hair that
was very nearly white and eyes that were close to the shocking blue Freyja's had been. It was the face Tony had recently given Jarvis, and the AI had taken to it well.
"How much longer?" Tony asked, spinning in his chair like a child.
"Two-point-three minutes, sir," Jarvis replied. "What is it you're looking for this time?"
Tony looked to Steve with a questioning glance and the super soldier cleared his throat.
"Anything on a woman known as 'The Alchemist'."
The AI nodded before frowning slightly.
"I apologize for the delay, but there seems to be something blocking this information."
"There's something blocking it?" Tony repeated blankly. "Like what?"
"A virtual wall, sir," Jarvis deadpanned.
Steve had to fight back a smirk at the playboy's unamused expression. It seemed that Jarvis was becoming more and more sarcastic with each passing day. Not that anyone
within Stark Tower seemed to mind. Anyone who could knock Tony down a notch, even if he didn't technically exist, was welcome to do so.
"How long will it take you to override their defenses?"
"Not long."
In reality, it only took thirty more seconds. Files and folders began flooding the holographic screen as Jarvis dug through the encryptions and defenses S.H.I.E.L.D. had put up
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