Devotion [Book 1]

Good At Goodbyes

Chapter 8

***

Nicholas Fury was too old for this shit.

Rubbing a tired hand over his good eye, he tried not to look at the red digital numbers glowing above the door to his office. It was a real nice office too.

Customized within an inch of its shiny and very expensive life, Fury had made sure that every item in his airborne office served dual purposes. He was not a man who liked chaos or clutter, unlike the life he led.

He leaned back in his seat and drummed his fingers on the table. While he'd never admit it, least of all to anyone living, he always breathed a little easier these days when he knew Natasha Romanoff's exact whereabouts, and right at this very moment, he was as far from knowing her location as he'd ever been.

Needless to say, Fury was... concerned.

It was no great secret that the deadly redhead had always been his favorite agent. As close to him as a daughter figure he'd never had, nor wanted, she made it increasingly difficult over the years to maintain a good emotional distance from her.

Every time he sent her out on a mission, he knew there was a potential for it to be the last time he saw her. That's how the business of spies worked. The key was to not develop personal attachments with anyone.

Yet, like all things Natasha Romanoff, it was complicated.

Fury had enough faith in her to trust that whatever had happened she was capable of handling it. It wouldn't be the first, nor the last time she would come face to face with death, and the only thing that helped him sleep at night was the knowledge that she was made of the same strong resilient stock that he was.

And yet... Fury's stomach churned as the minutes ticked by and the silence grew. He reached into the top draw on his left and removed a half-consumed packet of antacids and popped two in his month.

Those damn kids were giving him an ulcer.

But even as he chewed angrily on the peppermint flavored tablets, Fury knew deep down that something wasn't right. Something was different – she was different.

Since the addition of Steve Rogers to the fold, Nick Fury had immediately noticed a change in his normally ruthless agent. Working alongside the super solider, Natasha had seemed to grow both stronger and more alive than he'd ever seen her.

Fury knew the minute he'd spotted the two of them walking side by side on the deck of the helicarrier that the solider and the spy would make a dynamite duo. Over the years he had continued to observe them from afar. He'd even placed a secret bet or two with Hill and Stark. At the end of the day, Fury knew without a doubt that assigning the two as partners had been one of his more brilliant ideas.

But as with all things in life, things had changed. The ridiculous bureaucratic nonsense otherwise known as the Accords had happened, and he'd watched with acid burning in his veins as the fallout from the pencil pushers attempts at greedy control had shattered years of his planning and hard work.

Fury had naively hoped things would go back to normal after the dust had settled.

After all, nothing brought people together like a common enemy – and running from the government was an excellent team-building exercise. Which was exactly why he'd dropped Natasha off with her remaining teammates and encouraged her to reconnect with a sullen Rogers. God knows that man needed some loosening up.

So, he'd given her a month, enough time for her to shake off the funk she seemed to be stewing in before he called her back to work. The world never stopped revolving after all and there was always work to be done.