Elodie
I threw my leg forward, kicking yet another guy's ass. I shook my head as he fell to the ground, limp. Come on, at least put up a fight.
I wiped my hands on my black pants and retreated to where Natasha currently stood, hoping to hear more orders from Director Fury.
"Anything?" I casually place my hands on my hips, nodding a stray white-blond curl out of my face.
"We're done here, actually." She smiles slightly, happy to be finished with yet another mission. I sigh. Unlike most of the agents, this is the one part of my job that I do enthusiastically.
"Let's get on the plane then, I guess." I shrug. I wait for her to turn away so I can follow. We scramble onto the airship and inside, relaying the events of our mission before being dismissed for the night.
I sit on a cushy chair and stare out the glass pane, waiting for the ship to land so that I can make my way home, knowing the streets of New York will surely become much busier soon.
"Hey, Elodie." The cushion sank beside me, and I knew right away who it was. Steve is the only man on this ship who favors calling me by my real name over 'Coleman'.
"Hey, Steve." I respond. I can feel his gaze burning on my cheek as I stare out the window, at the clouds that mindlessly float past.
"Do you want to do something tonight?" He questions. I give him a pointed stare and he looks away gloomily, knowing he lost again.
"Shouldn't have asked." He mumbles. I shake my head once in agreement, knowing he hadn't seen me.
"Sorry." I mutter, something that I don't do often. Usually I don't feel so bad about turning him down. What was it about today? I reach over and gently clasp my fingers over his hand, giving him a reassuring look.
It was never the best thing to turn down one of your best friends, over and over, but he knew I never liked going out. I never understood why he kept choosing to disappoint himself in that way.
He smiles down at my hand, and I lean over and give him a hug. I don't depend on anyone in SHIELD more than Steve.
"I need to go." I say quietly in his ear, before straightening up and leaving him to sit at the window alone. I weave my way through the ship and finally find the exit, happy to step foot back onto safe, New York City land. Well, as safe as it gets, at least.
I've already she's my SHIELD uniform for a t-shirt, jeans, and my comfy, old, worn out combat boots. I stand at the edge of the sidewalk and call out for a taxi, waving my hand around frantically.
I smile as one pulls over fast. I'm easily noticed in public, with my naturally white hair and pale face. I stand out, like a ghost among the living.
When I get inside, I recite the address of my apartment building to the driver and he nods silently. I quite enjoy the people who understand that I prefer a quiet car ride.
I watch the skyscrapers rush past, comparing them to the one's I've seen in the many other cities I've been to. Somehow, no other city has managed to achieve the height that New York has. I've always found comfort in the loud noises of the city, ever since I moved near here at the age of 5.
The man stops in front of my apartment, and to my delight, he decides to let me go, free of charge. Apparently he's received a call from this building earlier, and he was already headed this way. I thanked him graciously and ducked inside, taking my key out of my pocket.
"I'm home." I called into the silence, as soon as I opened my door. The sound of a clinking metal tag and hard claws against wood finish echoed through the halls, and I was soon met by my golden retriever. His name is Winston Churchill.
I was born in Britain, and I didn't move away until after I learned to speak. While my family let their accents vanish, I chose to keep mine, and I've learned every word I know pronouncing it in the way that my accent dictates. Many people compliment me on it, and I like the way it separates me from others, and it also keeps my late parent's memory living on.
I change into wool socks and find myself on my creaky leather couch, in front of the TV, holding a bowl of chips. (And no, I don't say crisps. I may have kept my accent, but American slang will always be more familiar to me.) Winston joins me, letting his chin rest on my arm.
After a few hours, I'm broken out of my sleepy, bored state by a knock on the door. Because it's late, and I always have a target on my back, I shove my handgun into an easy to reach place in my back pocket before approaching the door. When I open it, I find two large, solemn-looking New York City police officers crowded together outside.
"What's the problem, officers?" I say politely, raising my eyebrows.
"Are you Miss Ello-dye Coleman?"
"Elodie, actually. But go on." I can't help myself when I correct him.
"Your old legal guardian, Miss Thea Parker, has been murdered."
That's the moment I faint, with a reverberating thud.
-
Different kind of fanfic(:
Hope you like it, all you Marvel fans!
Next chapter will be in a different POV, it'll switch each chapter.
Hope you liked Elodie, if you couldn't already tell, she's a bit of a workaholic;)
Lots of love,
Kat xxx
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A Heart of Gold
RandomElodie Coleman strived to become S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agent. She has one last mission to seal the deal, when tragedy strikes. Someone calls to tell her that the woman who raised her was murdered, and the main suspect was the notorious dark prince of...
