The Second Hand Unwinds (Book 2)

Homesteads and Helicarriers

"Pack up your shit. Now," Fury snapped as he stormed into the bedroom.

Betty was instantly on high alert. "What's happened?" she asked, disturbed, as she threw what little belongings she'd unpacked into her large duffel bag.

"I'll tell you on the way," he replied, uncovering the hidden cache of documents, weapons, and cash that was present in every safe house and shoving things into his own bag.

"Where are we goin'?" she pressed, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Home," he said simply, "but first, you need to teleport us here." He held out his phone to show her the co-ordinates and satellite images of what looked to be an abandoned air strip a few kilometres from where they were staying.

"Sure," Betty replied, trying to remain nonchalant whilst her head was spinning.

She did as Fury had asked, teleporting them both to the location he'd given her, and he led them into the old hangar to find a thoroughly modern and well-maintained quinjet. He left no time for conversation, opening up the ramp and getting the jet ready for the off. Betty sat in the number two seat and strapped herself in. She watched Fury in fascination. Technically she knew how to fly a quinjet, had used the simulators at S.H.I.E.L.D., but had never actually flown one in reality.

"I wonder what other tech you've got hidden up your ass," Betty mused, purposefully trying to draw him from his anxious state a little.

"No-one will ever truly know the depths of my ass," he side-eyed her, but she saw his lips turn up just the slightest amount.

The jet took off towards the destination that Fury had plugged into the navigation system. Betty turned in her seat and stared at him, arms folded across her chest, waiting. He glanced at her once, twice, and on the third time huffed a sigh, unlocked his phone, and threw it across to her.

"Read the report if you want. The mission in Johannesburg went south. Fast. Our guys took a big hit. We need to go and make sure that they're not gonna fall apart. Keep their momentum going."

"Give 'em a rousin' Fury TEDTalk?" Betty sassed.

"How the hell do you know about TEDTalks?" he sassed right back.

"I'm 98 Fury, not fuckin' dead. Of course I know what a TEDTalk is!" she barked out a laugh, which quickly died as she began to read Steve's mission report. "God, just fuckin' get us there fast," she breathed.

Home was apparently Waverly, Iowa, and it was homely. A beautiful white farmhouse appeared out of the trees behind which Fury had landed the jet, wanting to be as inconspicuous as possible. This guy would hide from his own fuckin' shadow, Betty thought fondly as they ploughed through the long grass of the meadow. A woman was waiting for them at the front of the house. A little taller than Betty, she had dark hair, a sweet face, and was very obviously pregnant.

"Nick," she smiled, embracing the ornery spy.

Betty was gobsmacked to see Fury returning the hug with a tender smile.

"Mrs Barton, you're blooming," he gushed. "How's my newest recruit treating you?"

"You're not allowed to have every Barton in the world Nicholas, you've had enough of them already," the woman teased, drawing away from him. "But our son is growing well and keeping me exhausted," she laughed at the last and then turned to Betty. "You must be Betty. I'm Laura, Clint's wife. He's told me a lot about you." She reached out to shake Betty's hand.

"It's lovely to meet you but I'm so sorry, Clint told me absolutely nothin' about you. It seems I'm destined to spend my life surrounded by sneaky spies."