The Developing {An Agents Of Shield Fanfiction} [2]

Black Coffee

My car beeped as I opened the door and slipped in the drivers seat, tossing my backpack over to the passengers side. I cranked the ignition and my old Jeep '98 turned over as I rolled out of my driveway.

It was a Saturday late morning. I had slept in longer than usual, no thanks to the series of nightmares. I had decided to treat myself to some coffee while heading into town to run some errands. My mom had left for vacation a few days earlier with some of her friends. I would have the house to myself for the remainder of the school break.

A few minutes later I was pulling into the parking lot of the Java Stop and taking my backpack with my laptop inside with me. I opened the door and the crisp smell of the place flooded over me. I ordered a tall black coffee and settled down at a table to get some stuff done.

The door opened and tall, blonde woman walked inside. She glanced at me but walked right past to place her order. I looked back at my laptop screen, sipping my coffee. My eyebrows furrowed. Did I forget something?

I checked in my bag and around my table. No...what's going on with me?

I glanced back at the barista counter where the woman was ordering her coffee. She wasn't facing me, but I studied her. She had on black pants and a black leather jacket, her thick blonde hair curled and resting over her shoulders and down her back. I turned back around. Chill, Alex. You're overthinking.

I opened Google on my browser and began typing in things for a research paper I needed to finish. I clicked from link to link and scribbled down notes on my notepad. The woman walked past me on my left holding her coffee and went to sit on a lounge chair near the door, right in my view. She settled down and picked up a magazine from the table, casually sipping and reading.

Who reads magazines these days? Like for real, what is this lady doing? She's at least in her thirties so she knows how to work an iPhone. There's probably something else she'd rather be doing than catching up on Paula Dean's latest recipes.

I glanced up at her subtly, then shook my head and refocused on my work. Quit being paranoid.

I had jotted down about a half a page of notes when I looked back at the woman, only to find her intently staring back at me. She quickly averted her gaze back to her magazine.

That's it. She's stalking me. I knew it.

I looked back around the coffee shop. Ironically we were the only ones inside, besides the barista, whom at the moment was nowhere to be seen. I glanced at the woman again to find her walking towards me. My heart beat quickened as she looked right at me and smiled. I studied her. Her eyes were an icy blue, her teeth straight and her expression very bright. A fake kind of bright. She was tall and looked like she could beat the hell out of anyone who walked in that door.

"Are you Alex Rogers?," she asked me sweetly.

I was taken aback by surprise. My mouth gaped open until I found words. "Uh...yeah, um," I said looking up at her. "How did you know?"

"Oh, it's written on your coffee cup," she said.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh. Right, of course," I said shaking my head.

"Mind if I sit?," she said, gesturing to the seat across from me.

"No, sure," I said. I closed my laptop and returned it and my notebook to my backpack, zipping it up.

"I'm sorry, I just know that I've met you somewhere before, I just can't remember where," she said.

I studied her again, looking deep into her eyes this time. Something about her gave off a particular aura of darkness, the kind that someone who has killed carries. But it wasn't easy to uncover that. She was particularly good at a fake emotion cover, as was a fairly well actor. She felt calm and collected, which made her harder to read. I suspected she was lying, but it was difficult to determine.