Despite Ward's rather sincere apology about his outburst in the lab, Nica couldn't find herself warming up to him fully. Despite Skye's numerous attempts – and wasn't she just endlessly hopeful and positive – Nica didn't befriend her either. Working with May was easy enough; getting the job done, silent mutual understanding exchanged through one look... Nica considered her a salvation.
Coulson appeared to be the toughest one; his ever-present fatherly advices, his support and dedication to his team as if they were his children, his family, which included Nica now, his knowledge of her past... that was making things difficult for her. She found it harder and harder to keep her distance and while she didn't take pride in it, she granted him a glimpse at her inner turmoil once in a while. He gave her no reason not to trust him entirely after all.
Fitz-Simmons, being the odd pair of friends potentially crushing on each other, were the last pieces of the mosaic of the unlikely team. They were much less insistent than Skye, but they tried... sometimes. In Fitz' case, it was mostly calling NIca out on her Ice Queen attitude.
The façade of an Ice Queen did stick. Nica showed emotion as little as possible, leaving them for when in private, and even then, she was pushing them away, not allowing herself to be hurt and weak. She knew that if she lapsed once, she would enter an endless vicious circle of misery, self-pity and... thoughts on the ultimate solution to her problems. She couldn't do that. She simply couldn't.
No one knew apart from Coulson and even him, he didn't know the half of it. For the rest of the team, she was a rather cold and efficient agent, who somehow found her place on the team, yet never really fitted or cared. She didn't allow herself to care, yet she could feel her teammates getting under her skin, crawling into her heart and finding their space in it. The more she felt, the more she hid it on the outside, burying her true feelings in. She tried not to worry about their whispers and Ice Queen remarks and told herself that they didn't bother her.
It worked pretty well. She held her own quite alright she thought, her defences rather solid.
The first break in her walls came unexpectedly. Of course, she couldn't know that beforehand. No one knew what future held – not really – and honestly, Nica wasn't sure what she would do, had she found out about the team-up with another task force ahead. She'd probably jump out of the Bus.
Without a parachute.
-.-.-
"Sir, I don't understand. Are you saying we are going on a mission without you?"
They were all gathered in the debriefing room if they could call it that, staring at Coulson with confusion when he told them the news. It was Jemma who expressed her concerns.
"Exactly."
"Why? We're your team. You're the leader," Skye stated unnecessarily, earning raised eyebrows from Coulson, May, Fitz and Simmons. The corners of Ward's lips twitched as well, while Nica fought to keep a straight face. It wasn't a secret Skye wasn't one to follow orders and respect authority. So that coming from her... then again, Coulson seemed to be a good influence; he truly had a way of bringing out the best in people.
"You'll be working with a task force. Another team. Their commander will be yours as well," Coulson announced and this time everyone stared at him downright baffled. "You know how it goes, two authorities who might end up disagreeing, that's never good."
"What kind of a task force?" May asked dryly.
"STRIKE team. You'll be in good hands, the best hands, to be honest. May, you're second in command."
Nica would swear Ward's breath hitched, while May's eyes widened.
Also, Fitz and Simmons squeaked.
And Nica prayed her brain was just not cooperating at the moment, was mixing things up; Coulson didn't say what he said, right? Because that would be... bad. Nica had read about the STRIKE team during her training if she remembered correctly. And she recalled who the leader was; or at least led several of their missions.
She opened her mouth for Coulson to prove her theories wrong, but Skye beat her to speaking, sounding curious and excited.
"What's the STRIKE team?"
"Special Tactical Reserve for International Key Emergencies," Ward informed her, making half of the team roll their eyes. Show-off.
Coulson just smiled widely. "Exactly. We'll be arriving at the Hub in few minutes. May, please, take the pilot seat. I need to do some quick packing. Debrief dismissed."
With those words, he spun on his heels. May exited the room as well and Skye measured the rest of the team with a questioning glance.
"Alright. Mr. Walking Encyclopaedia told us what the abbreviation stands for, now someone wants to explain what does it mean for us?"
Jemma smiled at her, awe-struck, still in disbelief. Nica was suddenly uncomfortably certain that her assumption hadn't been wrong. Which was a terrifying thought, because that meant they would-
"It means that we will work under the command of Steve Rogers."
Well.
Fuck.
Nica's heart jumped to her throat and she had a truly hard time to let it go unnoticed. She probably failed too.
Skye gasped, her eyes shining with enough excitement to power a small town for a week. "You don't mean like... that Steve Rogers, right?" Jemma just chuckled and nodded hastily. "You're joking. Are you saying we're meeting Captain America? Holy shit!"
Nica couldn't say she shared her enthusiasm. In fact, she was horrified.
She needed to talk to Coulson. About sitting this one out.
-.-.-
For all she had an undying trust in her boss, she considered his decision an utter betrayal; Coulson had not complied with her wish.
"Nica... I understand this might be hard for you, but if the only fear you have about working with him concerns your identity, I assure you he will be subtle. It's not like he's gonna track anyone to tell them about you," he spoke coaxingly, yet with enough authority to assure her he wouldn't budge. "He's a soldier. He's working with S.H.I.E.L.D. This kind of intel is classified and he knows that. You'll be fine."
Nica considered herself a realist. There was a fat chance he wouldn't even remember her. However, she remembered all to precisely what the circumstances of their last meeting was – and God, didn't it feel like ancient history – and they were making her sick to her stomach.
"But-"
"You'll be fine. Trust me."
At the time, she might have been feeling like throwing up, but she swallowed the bitter pill. Now, with the STRIKE team entering their jet, Steve Rogers in a subtle dark blue suit with a star in the middle of his chest, she felt more like she couldn't even breathe in and her head started spinning.
She thought she might actually faint as the group of eight more men in tactical gear stopped in front of them in the debriefing room and unlike with Jemma, Fitz, Skye or even May, it was not because she was just that star-struck.
Please, please, don't let him recognize me.
"Captain Rogers, I'm Agent May. This is Doctor Fitz, Doctor Simmons, Agent Ward, Agent Davis and our consultant, Skye. At your service," May introduced them swiftly and he gave a firm nod at each name in response.
Nica allowed herself to release the breath she was holding when he didn't pay her special attention, didn't linger with his gaze. It didn't seem like he recognized her.
Why would he? He met you once. The fact you threw yourself on him, because he agreed to help you save M-- Daredevil and the little fact that he carried you when you got shot wasn't as special to him as it was to you. He was used to that kind of shit.
Well, Nica was slowly getting used to that shit too. What a fucked-up turn her life had taken.
"Agents, Doctors... Ma'am," he added, clearly unable to come out with a better term for Skye. Nica's stomach made a somersault upon hearing his firm voice. Soldier indeed. Professional. She remembered his voice being rather coaxing, but that had been under quite different circumstances. There was no reason to treat her in kid gloves now. She found herself grateful for that. "A pleasure. Agent May, if you would set the course to 41°23'N 2°10'E and then join us. We need to be on the move."
"Yes, Captain."
If Nica didn't know better, she would think a brief smile appeared on Captain's lips as if he could sense that Miss Always Cool And Never Bothered was a bit nervous around him. It must have been just Nica's imagination though, she thought as they all boarded and headed to the debriefing room.
"Shall we start? Can we?" their temporary leader asked, beckoning to the monitor and the desk.
"Of course, Captain," Skye hurried, immediately starting the tech, holograms appearing.
"Thank you. Rumlow? The files?"
A dark-haired man with few days' stubble stepped out and shoved a flash-drive to the slot. A map, blueprints and personal files on their targets immediately filled the space and Nica blinked when she noticed where they were heading.
Well, she thought bitterly, maybe this time my Spanish lessons are about to pay off.
Bienvenidos a Barcelona.
-.-.-
The meeting took almost an hour. Now the agents of STRIKE team were shuffling away with the members of Coulson's team as their guides, Nica herself having two agents on her tail—and that was when it all finally went to shit.
"Agent Davis," sounded behind her as she was leaving and she stopped dead in her tracks at Captain's voice. She gulped before turning around to face him, focused on keeping a straight face.
"Yes, Captain? How may I be of assist?" she asked, desperately trying to keep her voice even as her heart started hammering in her chest with enough force to try and break through her ribcage.
A coincidence. It's just a coincidence, no need to panic.
"A word, please."
Nica could feel everyone who heard them burning a hole into the back of her head with their glares as she nodded rigidly, unable to quite look into Captain's eyes.
"Yes, Captain," she replied dutifully as everyone else exited the room, her previous pursuers finding a different victim.
To be honest, she would rather leave with them to show them the bathroom or the secret stash of alcohol he had recently discovered than talked to Steve freakin' Rogers.
The door made of reinforced glass clicked shut and she was left alone with him, face to face with her past, hoping with her whole heart it was not the case and Steve Rogers picking her to have a word with was a pure coincidence. Judging by his searching gaze on her face, sharp and brilliant blue eyes examining her, it was probably a fool's hope.
"Vera?" he whispered questioningly and she couldn't help it. She winced, no matter how much she tried to stay composed and keep her cool.
She could immediately tell he noticed, because his eyes lit up with recognition.
FUCK.
Her mouth felt suddenly too dry and she closed her eyes to escape the disbelief written all over his face. Sakra, sakra, SAKRA-
"How-"
"Ca-captain Rogers, I—" she stuttered, her throat squeezed in a vice of emotions she was desperately keeping at bay; she was a professional, she had buried Vera Murdock, she-- what did it even matter to him that she was with SHIELD now? "I would appreciate if you wouldn't call me that name again. My name is—my name is Nicole Davis. I am an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Whoever you might have met-"
"I heard you were dead," he accused her, incredulous, and actually sounded a bit wounded; all that while speaking in low voice.
Hearing that emotion in his tone, softening the commanding voice, she blinked in surprise. Did he... care? It wouldn't be such a surprise, after all Natasha Romanoff had saved don't-say-his-name from the induced comma he had been in and they had sent and invitation to the Avengers for the wed-
Alright, stop the train of thoughts right here. The thought of him caring is ridiculous anyway. He's a virtue incarnated; he just doesn't like lying.
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that and look into his baby blues that are gazing at you as if you were an old friend who betrayed him.
"As I was saying-" Nica breathed out, her voice shaking, "whoever you might have met, she is dead. It wasn't like she had anything to live for."
She raised her gaze to his face hesitantly, meeting with sea of blue full of compassion.
Oh. Uhm... oh. Christ, her own eyes were burning. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't, she didn't need his damn compassion, she didn't his goddamned pity—anyone's pity, that was why she ran, why she became someone else, why--
"I... heard. I'm truly sorry. My condolences."
Nica's throat went tighter, tears stinging in her eyes with more intensity. Don't, don't, DON'T-
"Thank you, Capt-" she shut her mouth, unable to escape the cage his stare locked her in, remembering that he had once asked her to call him something quite different. To address something he was showing her now. She owed him to reciprocate the gesture. "Thank you, Steve."
A tiny sad smile appeared on his lips and despite everything, Nica couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked, alluring even, with his expression softened like that. The last time they had met, she had been too busy to take a proper look or to care; now, the circumstances were even worse. However, the swirl of emotions in his eyes did something to her gut. She could relate to Peggy Carter alright. He was quite a looker and she wasn't talking his serum-pumped body... only. She would fall for his eyes alone. She always was a sucker for pretty eyes...
Nica quickly shook the strangely familiar feeling off, guilt replacing it for having such a thought in the first place in her position. A widow. A failed mother. A dead woman walking. People like her didn't get to move on, not that she truly wanted to. But gosh, unable to help herself and taking in other man's attractiveness, hell, his beauty? How dare you.
Focus.
He's your boss too; act like it.
"Can I just know..." he took two steps in her direction, his hand – the one closer to the table, not the one easily visible from behind the glass – brushing her forearm in attempt to comfort. Nica's breath got stuck in her throat. What was the last time some touched her this way? Other than being punched? What was the last time she experienced a gentle touch, tender even? Coulson was wary of touching her and she had spent some time with him already. "The cover-up. The-- in the prison-"
Her heart stopped at the unspoken question and she knew exactly what he was asking, not even surprised by how much he knew anymore; she just didn't want to answer and finally managed to lower her gaze. She couldn't tell if it was because she was ashamed in front of him, in front of a man who always fought and never gave up, or in front of herself.
"Very close to reality," she said breathlessly, barely audible.
She immediately knew he heard her, because his fingers curled around her wrist, grip growing a little stronger before loosening again. He didn't say anything and she could feel his silent judgement, crawling up her skin. She reluctantly looked up, expecting the same emotion written all over his face. It genuinely surprised her she couldn't see a least trace of disappointment.
No, his eyes watched her intently, soft, an honest smile playing in one corner of his lips as he squeezed her wrist once more and let go.
"Then I'm glad you're here, Agent Davis."
Nica inhaled shakily, few tears escaping her at last, rolling down her face. She let them, but stopped the flood that threatened to follow. She managed a little grateful smile.
"Thank you, Captain Rogers. Am I dismissed?"
He nodded, his face closing off a little, becoming more guarded; the commander's face back in place. His voice felt like Captain America's too, gravely, when he spoke again.
"Yes, Agent Davis. Get some rest."
Nica couldn't tell what exactly caused her to reply the way she did, but if she could take a guess, it was his eyes, a strange twinkle to his irises, the last traces of... almost a personal connection in the captain persona that had been put up again.
"Gracias, jefe," she said with her best effort to sound Spanish, the foreign language tasting bittersweet on her tongue.
Steve's raised eyebrow and the subtlest hint of a lopsided smile followed her as she left the room.
-.-.-
Nica assured all of her weapons were in position. Gun in the holster on her right leg, billy clubs in the left one. Two switchblades in strapped to her belt. Tactical suit zipped to the limit; yes, that was a concern too, because when that thing was loose, it turned into a nightmare – she didn't need to offer her opponent anything to grab on her. It was one of the reasons she had her hair cut, not quite boyish, but definitely not her fairy-like hair reaching her shoulder blades.
The rest of the team – their momentarily large team of eleven agents plus their captain – seemed to be caught in the same process. Nica would be lying she wasn't impressed and rather horrified at the rifles at STRIKE's disposal; Ward took one too as did May, but Nica blatantly refused. So far, she hadn't had to shoot to kill and she sure as hell didn't plan on it; she was perfectly fine with slowing people down and knocking them unconscious then.
The STRIKE guy handing out the rifles raised when eyebrow when she shook her head, a mocking glint in his eye as he gave her a onceover.
It honestly and genuinely pissed her off. Great. A chauvinist. Just what they needed. She loved working with dumbass guys with patronizing approach. Now Nica was sure he had reasons to brag and be a tiny bit smug since he was on the top squad, but still.
She couldn't help it; she shot him a smirk in return.
"I'm more of a hand-to-hand kind of girl," she said simply, purposely emphasizing the last word, colouring it with irony. "Not much I can do with this when they get close."
He scoffed, but turned to the others; finding no one else in need for the weapon, he went to put it away.
When he had to brush past her, he slowed down, whispering in a barely audible voice that made her stomach somersault in the worst way.
"I know what I'd do if I got close to y-"
"Gibbs!" a strict voice with icy edge made Nica look up, straight to the steely blue eyes on their pair as if their owner had heard the suggestive line... which he possibly could. Nica swallowed at the thought, while Gibbs' shoulders squared, his posture straightening as he turned his head to his commander. Captain's glare was drilling a hole to the agent's forehead, an unspoken threat hanging in the air as everyone in the room froze. Steve's voice softened just a fraction, still menacing. "If we could all focus on the mission, that would be splendid."
Gibbs nodded curtly and continued his path, the rest of the room remaining motionless for another five seconds. Nica exhaled and closed her eyes, mentally thanking and cursing Captain Rogers at the same time. Right, because more attention on her was just what she needed. And looking incapable. She knew he was as disgusted at the remark as she was, but dammit-
Still, when she opened her eyes again, she found his gaze and nodded minutely. He looked away, but one corner of his lips twitched.
"Alright, team. Let's get this done, so we can go back to our usual business. Stick to the plan. Be each other's eyes and ears. Something goes sideways, we all need to know about it to move on to plan B. Everyone clear?"
The echo of 'yes, sir' filled the garage, Skye's and Fitz-Simmons' voices ringing in your comms. They were securely in the debriefing room, ready to support you without potentially getting shot at. Nica was caught between envying them and pitying them, to be honest. Momentarily strapping a parachute to her torso, she was more leaning towards the envy.
With one last glance at his team as Skye informed you on approaching the targeted building, the captain hit the button to open the exit.
Nica couldn't wait the moment her feet would touch the ground. Too bad she had to experience a few seconds of free fall before that and pull the ripcord handle at the exact right time otherwise she'd splash on the roof.
Yeah, she definitely envied them. Why only had she refused to catch the ride with Ward? Oh right, she hated when someone was patronizing her and like this, she wouldn't be. What a comfort that would be to her when they'd have to scrap her from the concrete.
With a deep inhale, she followed her team and took a leap of faith into the void.
-----Notes:
I wonder if (anyone's still reading) you got a hunch when reading the line '...jump out of the Bus. Without a Parachute.'
Let me know what you thought... even if it's something in the lines of 'you just can't help yourself, you Steve freak, can you' ;) I promise he's important tho ;)