Mizpah 𝖃 Bucky Barnes

005. . .metal man

Fury shuts his eyes and sighs. "You touch me again and you're losing that hand." He threatens then slaps her wrist away.

"Are you threatening your boss, Director Fury?"

"The day I die will be the first and only time I refer you as that."

"I'll accept that," Mulan nods, lips pursed, then holds out her hand. "C'mon shake my hand. Won't you shake the poor sinner's hand—"

"If you don't get to your point—"

"Right yeah no you're totally right," Mulan babbles then clears her throat. "So did you think sending the only agent I like into the lion's den that is Tony Stark was a good idea?"

"We need to play our cards, Mulan. He is—would be a valuable asset to this division."

"Yeah I know he would, the Starks keep on finding ways to out-do themselves. And I've lived long enough to go through two of them, so I would know. But I told you he is not Howard," Mulan starts pacing. "He is not built for this type of thing, Tony can only deal with so much and people can only deal with so much Tony. If you think about it I'm saving everyone here!" Mulan motions her hands in circles as she stops pacing.

"Is Stark even informed that you're still involved in S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Fury sighs and rests back in his chair, deciding while Mulan was here no work would get done so he should give up trying.

"No. And he doesn't need to be, alright? And it's not like I'm involved in this like you, not after the shooting. . . but um I'm just a supervisor, yeah let's go with that. But hearing the gossip among the agents is so funny I swear!" Mulan drawls out with a wide almost manic smile.

"Fucking agents, make you out to be some all-mighty spirit who lingers the S.H.I.E.L.D. hallways in the dusk of moonlight." He rolls his eyes as Mulan bursts into laughter.

"I love my effect here."

"Get out my office."

"Alrighty Mr. Grumpy-lost-my-eye-to-a-cat. How is Danvers doing by the way?" Mulan sighs now stood by the door with one hand on its handle.

"M.I.A as usual." Fury monotonously shrugs.

"Well, at least that's good news for us. Oh and I forgot to mention, the next time you have my favorite agent Phill do your dirty work and make me mad at him, I will find you." She grins then opens the door and struts out the Director's office.

Getting into her car Mulan sat still for a second and thought about what was said in that office, most importantly how she brought up the shooting so nonchalantly. It scared her a bit.

The year was 1987, she was leaving the S.H.I.E.L.D. office after hours with her usual meetings, appointments, and paperwork. This was when Mulan gave her whole devotion to the division, wanting it to strive to its fullest potential. It was cold, dark, and rainy—a combination she never liked— she should've known something, someone was there. Trench coat wrapped around her body, hair stringy and wet, with her briefcase gripped in her left hand and her car keys in her right, she tried to unlock her car. It wouldn't budge, it actually snapped her key in half when she noticed the presence behind her. But it was too late.

Two gunshots rippled through the cold rainy air connecting with her frame, one in her thigh and the other in her chest. Blood splattered on her 1987 Audi 5000 then she sunk to the cold gravel of the parking lot as small whimpers of pain escaped her lips. She could recall her body feeling on fire and every breath she took felt like swallowing needles. Her vision was hazy, her body numb, but she could make out a shining metallic object and maybe something red through the rain. Mulan thought she was going to die that night. It was a good thing Howard was still there and found her just in time, and after that, she pulled back from S.H.I.E.L.D.