Chapter 7
“So this is your life, huh?”
It’s one of those summer nights where it’s warm even after the sun goes down. Were it not for all the bombing-related activity, the campus of Midtown High just after twilight would be kind of pretty. It’s almost a college campus, and it’s just on the cusp of summer, when things are still blooming but not dried out yet.
Unfortunately, that night the campus is defined by what happened there. There are cop cars everywhere, parents and students wearing shock blankets (no injuries, except for one man who dislocated a shoulder trying to break down a door), and three quinjets on the football field. They’ll need to take more funding from the arts to fix the lawn, she thinks idly.
“I wish I could say it’s never boring, but honestly it’s usually way more boring than this.” It’s true; operating without SHIELD’s safety net under her has been an adventure. Not one she’d prefer to do again, but not a wholly unenjoyable one, either. She mentally files Steve Rogers into the “actively prefers company” folder in her mind.
“Maybe that’s because it usually doesn’t have me,” Steve says, and she grins, remembering their conversation from the gym. Honestly, he might not be wrong. Ever since he walked into her life, it’s gotten a lot more eventful, even for someone in her line of work. She hasn’t decided if eventful is good or bad yet.
“What happens now?” Steve asks as Felix Harker is led into a quinjet.
“He goes to trial,” she says “and, given all the witnesses, loses. They keep him away from the public. Get answers.” Like how the hell he got Vira Kovaleva’s phone number, or how he managed to break into the bank.
“Try to rehabilitate him,” she continues. “Maybe SHIELD even hires him, if that goes well.”
“That’s the kind of person SHIELD hires?”
There’s a lot of different ways Leila could respond. She could try to back down on the hiring criminals thing. She could try to defend it. She could spin it. Or she could tell the truth, or something close to.
Part of it is that she’s just tired, and doesn’t feel like questioning her instincts that hard. But she also knows, somehow, that honesty is the best way to get him on board. At least at this point. Leverage the good will she’s garnered from him. It could completely break his chances of joining, but it could also be the thing that seals it for him.
“I dunno,” Leila says, “It worked out pretty well for me.”
Steve looks vaguely surprised at this, and she wonders if it’s the fact that she has a shady past or the fact that she just admitted it to him. Before she can ask, she hears “I think New York would agree,” and turns around.
“Hey, Nat.”
“Hey, Princess.” Nat turns to Steve. “Cap’n. Looks like your lunch date got interrupted.”
“No one died. That’s the important part.”
“Right.” Nat smirks, like she knows something they don’t, and nods back at the helicarrier. “You need a ride? We’re heading back to New York.”
“We drove here. I don’t want my car towed.”
“He’s weird about his car,” Leila adds.
“Why does that not surprise me?” Nat asks. “See you around, Cap.”
“You too, Romanoff,” he says by way of farewell. Then, to Leila, he adds, “Hey, Manhattan.”
It takes her a second to process the nickname before she turns, smiling.
“Thanks,” he says. “For everything.”
“You too, Brooklyn,” she says, and he smiles as he turns back to the parking lot.
“So I missed a lot,” Nat says as Leila turns back to her. “You guys have pet names for each other already?”
“They’re more like vague insults.”
“That’s what pet names are. Rumlow will be shattered.”
Leila rolls her eyes, not bothering to argue. She’s pretty sure Nat just finds Leila’s introversion and aversion to romance fun to toy with.
“So how about it, Princess? You need a ride?”
And Leila considers it. The thought of sleeping in the on-call room is very enticing. But then she considers everything else that’s happened that day. And what she said to Steve before Nat showed up.
“I would,” Leila says, “but I still have a mission to finish. Fury’s orders.”
Steve isn’t surprised when Leila asks him for a ride, and he doesn’t wait long before asking.
“So?”
“So what?”
“So what do you think I’m gonna say?”
She doesn’t bother to play dumb, just looks at him expectantly.
“You think I don’t know Fury wanted you to recruit me?”
“Smart boy,” she says. “When’d you figure it out?”
“When you offered to come to the barbeque with me. You’re not exactly the social type.”
“Wow, you know me so well,” she deadpans.
“Am I wrong?”
“I didn’t say that.” She leans back in her seat, looking out at the highway. It’s kind of pretty at night, all the lights in the dark. “But you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t already considering joining. Am I wrong?”
“Maybe not,” he says, and glances at her. “What do you think I should do?”
Leila considers this carefully, and it’s one of those fun moments where the thing she’s pretty sure is the right thing to do for the person in front of her happens to be the right thing to do for SHIELD, too. Which is good, because if she’s really honest with herself, she’s not 100% sure what she’d choose if she had to.
“I think you should talk to Peggy Carter about it,” she says finally. “I assume Fury gave you her contact information, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you reached out yet?”
“I don’t know what I’d say,” he says quietly, keeping his eyes trained on the road.
“Say ‘my extremely smart, cool, hot coworker suggested I ask you for advice about whether I should join SHIELD, the organization you helped found and named after me, and I decided that coworker is always right about everything.’”
“Great, I’ll say that. Can you write it down for me?”
“Sure. Don’t forget the part about me being hot. It will inform the answer she gives you.”
“How could I forget?” he rolls his eyes, and she smiles.
Leila wakes up alone the next morning, but for once, it doesn’t bother her so much. It’s weird. There’s still this warm, frantic energy running around from the day before. Maybe this is what it feels like when you have actual conversations with people. She’s not sure.
What does bother her is the fact that once again, her phone is waking her up. At least it’s from a dreamless sleep, this time.
She grabs her phone off the nightstand and hits the green button without checking the ID. “Hello?”
“Call Fury,” Steve says without greeting. “Tell him I’m in.”