Unexpected

Urgent Translation

Blinking blearily as my alarm started spraying out song lyrics I rolled over, hitting my side table blindly trying to find my phone to shut off the alarm. Once the blaring stopped I lay there with a yawn that stretched my jaw, trying to calm my heartbeat as I kicked off my blankets that had cocooned themselves around my legs in the night. I was hot, so hot. My pajamas felt damp; like they were clinging to me and as I brushed my tangled mess of hair from my face I found my face to be damp too. I must have had a nightmare last night. I closed my eyes, laying my arm over them as I tried to remember what had tormented me the night before. After a few moments I gave up. If it was that bad that it had me twisting and turning and sweating, it was probably a blessing that I couldn't remember it.

With my music on shuffle I started through my morning routine, trying to ignore the soreness in my body. To "Hooked on a Feeling" by Blue Swede I scarfed down a blueberry bagel hungrily as I picked out my outfit, trailing my fingers not tainted by cream cheese longingly over the fabric of my new dress. Not today, but soon. To "Smooth Criminal" by MJ I mumbled "Annie, are you ok? So, Annie are you ok, Are you ok, Annie" around my toothbrush and as I tied my golden hair back into a braid. By the end of "Enchanted" covered by Owl City, I was dressed in a lacy purple blouse tucked into a sleek black pencil skirt with black nylon tights and simple black flats. The pendant of my necklace stood out starkly, like a shimmering teal star in the center of my chest. I fiddled with it as I paused my music and looked down at the thin, cylindrical device lying beside my jewelry box. Quickly clipping it to the waistband of my skirt, I grabbed my purse and left my apartment, heading downstairs to my car. Was my nightmare about Loki again possibly?

I thrust that out of my mind as I drove, focusing on what my schedule would be today instead, and on planning to try to track down Nat. She'd get a kick out of me actually taking Steve clothes shopping yesterday. Clint would probably poke fun too. I smiled at the thought as I pulled in to a parking spot and started heading inside.

It astounded me how much like a regular, if somewhat upscale, office building S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Triskelion looked like when you walked in. The white floors and people of all appearances and backgrounds dressed in business wear, some even carrying laptop bags and briefcases seemed surreal when you knew of the gym, the training rooms and reconnaissance rooms, people dressed and ready for combat, satellite stations, holding cells, shooting ranges, and laboratories were all hidden inside.

In far better spirits this morning than I was yesterday morning I made my way up the elevator and down the hall to my small office. My computer started up right away as I plopped down into my rolling chair, looking over the bare walls of my office. I should get something to customize this place, maybe a framed picture of my grandparents. Maybe I'd get a little pot of succulent plants to put in the window. Pulling up my work email once the computer had run its usual security checks and I had typed in all the appropriate passwords and whatnot, I scrolled my eyes down the list of a half dozen new translation requests and orders that had come in overnight, each one labeled urgent for various classified missions and surveillance prompts. Sighing, I clicked on the first one whose subject line promised Grecian drama.

By noon I had managed to get through three sets of documents, including one that seemed to be some sort of accounting sheet, and another was a photocopy of what looked like a note left behind by a turncoat. Working with the bits of messages, including a schedule of ships and cargo scrawled in French by someone with poor grammar and penmanship, struck my curiosity. What were these bits of redacted conversations and what looked like random strings of numbers and lists? What were they for? Who wrote them? Why are different sections of S.H.I.E.L.D. focusing on these specific documents?