Fic for colebaltblue: Playing The Game: Act I - Pawns & Politics, Secrets & Strategy, Part 3/4

[holmesticemods]

Maria was only gone for a day and a half. She showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters the day the Senate inquiry started in a rather disgruntled mood, muttering something about “God damn HYDRA operatives” and “fucking Talbot” before locking herself in her office for an hour. When she came out she seemed a bit calmer and went over what had happened with Molly: Ward had infiltrated Providence and taken one of Coulson’s team members and murdered another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the process. The head of the military team she had taken with her, Glenn Talbot, had made things harder than they needed to be and in the end she had helped Coulson and his team escape and they had gone off the grid completely to get their teammate back. She was told by Talbot that she could basically kiss any career in the government good-bye at this rate, and she had since spent the last hour packing up her office. Any second now she was going to be escorted out of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and where she was going to go after that, she had no idea.

Molly’s heart sank at that. Maria didn’t deserve this. She was a great agent. Once of the best Molly had ever gotten to work with. She’d come into the agency after Molly but Molly had been quite impressed. And not only that, she was a wonderful person. She deserved far better than this. Molly embraced her for a moment and then Maria picked up the boxes with her things in them, opened the door to her office, and then walked away with her head held high.

She knew that Natasha was supposed to be testifying today and she wasn’t surprised to see a text message when she got back to her mobile after leaving Maria’s office. Done testifying. Meet at Rus Uz in Arlington for lunch. Bring your friends. I brought mine.

Most of the business Molly was taking care of was being done via phone or secure email right now and she could keep an eye on that on her mobile as well as she could in the office she was borrowing. In fact, it would probably be more secure on her mobile, if the government started seizing records and equipment. Perhaps it would be best if she, Sherlock and Mary moved their base of operations to one of their hotel rooms and worked off Sherlock’s laptop and her mobile and modified laptop. And now with Maria gone, there really wasn’t as much point in being there. She had no real allies left at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters now.

She gathered her things and went to the room that Sherlock was using. She knocked on the door and opened it, and he looked up. “I’m kidnapping you,” she said, giving him a small smile.

“Good,” he said, not looking up from his mobile. “This is not an environment I’d prefer to be in. It’s too tense and I have the feeling that there are too many people fishing for information to be beneficial for themselves.”

“Then maybe we should move our base of operations to the hotel,” she said. “At least there we can keep our secrets safe, not just from anyone here trying to steal them but maybe from the government as well.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Sherlock said. He stowed his mobile and then stood up. “Mary said she was going to go meet a friend who has a private security firm to see if their firm can take some of the field operatives who want to stay here locally, but if we text her the address of the restaurant she might be able to meet us.”

“I’ll do that,” she said. The two of them left the room and made their way out of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, heading out to where they could catch a cab. Molly realized this could very well be the last time she ever saw the place, and she felt a slight pang of loss at that. But soon it was behind her and she settled in, chatting with Sherlock as the two of them split their attention between each other and their mobiles.

They pulled up to the restaurant and went inside. Natasha was easy to spot and Molly’s eyes went wide before a huge grin blossomed on her face. “Clinton!” she said, moving over to their table.

Clint Barton grinned back, standing up and giving Molly a hug. “Hey, Molly,” he said warmly.

“I hadn’t expected to see you,” she said, embracing him back. She pulled back a bit to take a good look at him. “I swear, you really haven’t changed much after all these years. You just look slightly more ruggedly handsome.”

“And you’re still the prettiest person from the UK who can kill me with a few moves,” he said with a laugh. They let go completely and he looked over at Sherlock. “You’re the famous consulting detective, aren’t you? Sherlock Holmes?”

Sherlock nodded. “And you are…?”

“Clint Barton,” he said, offering Sherlock his hand to shake. Sherlock shook his hand and then they all sat down together. They picked up their menus and began to study them, though Nat was looking at her mobile phone instead. After a moment Clint nudged Natasha. “Nat. They have a drink here called The Incredible Hulk.”

“I know,” Natasha said, not looking up from her phone.

“Why does Banner get a drink named after him? Why can’t they have a drink called The Hawkeye?” he asked incredulously.

“How do you think I feel?” Natasha asked. “I’m a regular customer and I’m Russian, and yet there’s no Black Widow.” She paused. “Though they have considered renaming the Habañero infused vodka shot after me, which I suppose I could live with.” Finally she looked up. “It’s a decent drink, though. I like to think Bruce would like it.”

“I’m tempted to try it,” Molly said.

“I could give it a shot,” Clint said. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock shook his head. “I don’t normally choose to imbibe alcohol,” he said. “I think it’s best if I keep my wits about me for the time being. When I was last in Russia I had a drink that sounded similar to the Compot so I think I’ll try that. Though a pot of hot black tea also sounds good too.”

“You know, it might be best if I avoid alcohol right now,” Molly said. “I’ll share the tea with you, Sherlock, and perhaps try the Mors instead.”

“The Mors is a good choice,” Natasha said.

After that they lapsed into silence until Mary joined them just before someone came to take their orders. They ordered a black caviar tart, potato pirozhki, chebureki and samsa as appetizers to split all around to start with. Natasha got borsch, Fish Under Coat and vareniki for her meal, Clint got beef stroganoff, Molly got chicken Kiev, Mary got lagmon and Russian roasted salmon and Sherlock got shurpa and plov. Clint looked over at Natasha. “You got all your comfort foods, didn’t you?”

“You know me well, Barton,” she said with a nod.

“Well, any time you get stressed you find the nearest Russian restaurant that has authentic Russian food and at the very least you get borsh and some form of pirozhki and if you get really lucky you can find Fish Under Coat,” he said. “We’ve been partners for so long I can read you like an open book. I know you almost as well as you know yourself.”

Natasha shrugged. “Even I have my limits. When I get angry I want my comfort foods and then I want to punch things. This whole situation is going to be a disaster of epic proportions, and it’s going to be a headache I would rather not deal with. Despite its faults S.H.I.E.L.D. was a good organization and the world needed it and soon it’s going to be gone.”

“Well, it may still be around,” Molly said slowly.

“Unofficially, I take it?” Natasha asked, Molly nodded. “Wonder who they’d put in charge. There really isn’t anyone left to trust.”

“Too bad Coulson’s not alive,” Clint said. “That was a man I’d trust with my life.” Molly looked away at that, just for a moment, but Clint leaned forward. “Molly…”

“Clinton…” she said.

“Molly, you know something,” he said.

“I can’t say,” she said.

Natasha studied her for a moment. “Coulson’s alive, isn’t he?” she asked.

“Not possible,” Clint said, frowning.

“You know a man who turns into a big green rage monster,” Mary said, rolling her eyes. “I imagine if there are things that can cause that there are things that could bring a man back from the dead. Your agency covered up alien attacks, correct? Aliens have technology beyond our means. Who’s to say what’s possible?”

“Is he alive?” Natasha asked again.

Molly bit her lip, and then sighed as she nodded. “He’s very much alive,” she said. “It came as a shock to me when Maria told me, but…he was at the Triskelion, after everything. In and out pretty quickly.” She was quiet for a moment. “Both Maria and Fury have reason to suspect that one of Coulson’s team members betrayed the team and is the one that killed Victoria Hand, not John Garrett, even though they were working together.”

“Son of a…” Clint said, leaning back in his chair. “Who?”

“Grant Ward,” Natasha said.

Clint scowled. “I always disliked him. He seemed so…smarmy. Fake.”

“Well, he was quite a good actor, but then again, so was Garrett,” Natasha said.

“Does anyone else know he’s alive?” Clint asked.

“Maria, Fury, me…now all of you,” Molly said. “I’m not sure beyond that. But if you mean your fellow Avengers? No, I don’t think they do. I don’t think you were ever supposed to know.”

“Well, shouldn’t they know?” Clint asked. “I mean, after New York and all…”

“We’ll tell them,” Natasha said. “After. Let’s just get through this first.”

Clint leaned back in his seat, running a hand over his mouth and chin. “This is just…huh. Unexpected.”

“Welcome to what my last few days have been like,” Molly said wryly as a waiter came with their drinks. She watched Clint up his drink and took a long drink. Yes, she definitely understood how he felt. She’d been drinking far more than usual to cope with what felt like one bombshell after another. She looked over at her friends. “On top of that, today Maria came in and cleared out her things. Apparently this Grant Ward fellow abducted a member of Coulson’s team and they’ve gone after him, and the person Maria took with her to find out what was going on made things more complicated. So I have no real allies left at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.”

“Do you have a place you can use elsewhere?” Clint asked.

“Any of our hotel rooms,” Molly said. “Sherlock and I both have secure laptops and mobiles.”

“It probably would be best anyway,” Sherlock said thoughtfully. “Not that we have to answer to the US government, but if they get any ideas of raiding the premises it’s best if we’re not there. Fewer awkward questions to deal with later.”

“Staying away from S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters is a good idea,” Natasha said. “If the mood in the room today was any indication, this could turn into a witch hunt rather quickly.”

“Then we’ll move our own operations elsewhere,” Molly said with a nod. She had another sip of her drink. “I think I can shelve most of the business I need to take off for the day. Everyone’s attention is turned towards the hearings right now. But we can start working from the hotel rooms tomorrow.”

“If your afternoon has freed up, then why don’t we hit The Box?” Natasha suggested. “Now that my favorite sparring partner has returned I can at least get a decent workout.”

“The Box?” Sherlock asked.

“It’s a gym-slash-training facility that some retired S.H.I.E.L.D. agents set up that’s only tangentially affiliated with the agency,” Natasha said. “They offer a hefty discount to S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives, but they also cater to other government agencies as well. They’ve got good workout equipment a weight area and also a large area for sparring and fight training.”

“It could be interesting to see what you could do,” Mary said, giving Sherlock a grin. “John said you know your way around a few different fighting styles.”

“I suppose I could give you a demonstration,” Sherlock said, giving Mary a slight smile. Then he turned to Molly. “What about you?”

“I’ll be perfectly fine with a punching bag,” she said with an answering grin. “But that sounds fine. I knew there were training facilities so I brought workout clothes with me. I just need to go back to the room to get them.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll go to the gym after we eat,” Clint said. “I can’t wait to see what new tricks Nat’s learned.”

“Oh, you’re in for a surprise,” Natasha said. “Or maybe I’ll pull out a few old ones I’ve never shown you before.” She gave Molly a wink and she grinned a bit. She had the feeling Clint was in for a very interesting afternoon.

---

Molly had to admit, she was quite impressed with The Box. It was definitely on par with the training facilities at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and certainly put the gym she went to in London to shame. The sparring mats had all been booked when they’d arrived so they’d spent time in various other parts of the gym first; she, Clint and Mary had gone to the cardio room and used the machinery there while Natasha had gone to the weight room and Sherlock had been off…somewhere.

In fact now she was off looking for him to let him know the mats were open. She was going to each area, poking her head in to see if he was there, having dropped in on a class or something, when she finally found him in a large supply closet. He was the only one there, sitting with him back against the wall, his eyes shut. He’d changed into a pair of loose fitting cotton trousers and a T-shirt, and swapped his dress shoes for a pair of trainers. He hadn’t brought a garment bag with him when he joined her and Mary in the cab to meet Natasha and Clint at the gymnasium so she assumed he had more casual clothing in his bag as well. It was rather a treat to see him in it.

“I know you’re staring,” he murmured, eyes still shut.

“The sparring mats are open,” she said, smiling slightly. He must always have his senses on alert. “What were you doing in here?”

“Calisthenics,” he said, opening his eyes. “I had an audience, I didn’t want an audience, so I moved in here and was left alone.”

“Male or female audience?” she asked, her smile growing more amused.

“Mostly female,” he said, standing up. “They don’t interest me. They never have.” He moved closer to her. “Most women never do.” The way he looked at her told her that, perhaps, he found her to be one who did. They still hadn’t talked about the kiss at the hotel. They’d rather ignored it, pushing it out of their minds, but soon it was going to come up. Soon it would be an issue, she could tell. And then he moved around her and the intimacy of the moment dissipated.

They made their way to the main part of the gym, housing the sparring mats. Molly had not been surprised to see Maria there, working out with a man she had been introduced to as Sam Wilson, one of the other people involved with Captain Rogers at the Triskelion. They had chatted a bit when they were introduced but not too much. She also spotted her cousin sitting on the sidelines, watching with a bit of a scowl on her face. Maria called for a pause in her session with Sam when she spotted Molly, and while Sherlock went away to go to Mary Molly moved over to Maria and Sam. “Feeling any better?” Molly asked.

“I’d feel better if there was a punching bag with Talbot’s face on it,” Maria said with a sigh. “I mean, Sam’s good, but Sam’s still injured after fighting Rumlow.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “Brock Rumlow? He was HYDRA as well?”

Sam nodded. “Oh yeah. Not one of the top dogs, but pretty high up,” he said. “High enough he tried to take down Cap from inside the central control room when the Helicarriers were going up.” Then he turned and gestured towards Sharon. “Agent 13 pulled a gun on him to get him to stand down. Considered the beat down he tried to hand me, I’d say that was pretty brave of her.”

Molly gave her cousin a studying look, ignoring the glare in her direction. She had known Rumlow when she was an agent. She knew what he was capable of; he’d had extraordinary hand-to-hand combat skills and had been well on his way to being part of STRIKE. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been running it when the HYDRA uprising had happened. And Sharon would have known that. Perhaps there was something in her cousin to be admired and respected after all. Then she turned back to Sam. “Well, if you’re standing on your own two feet after tangling with Rumlow and still able to spar with Maria than I’m quite impressed with you,” she said. “He used to toss me to the mat like a child’s plaything they no longer wanted to play with. It’d be at least a day before I felt like crawling out of bed.”

“So you have some skills?” Sam asked with a grin.

She nodded. “I have a few,” Molly said with a grin of her own.

“You should show them off,” he said. “You could probably spar with Agent 13.”

Maria’s eyes went wide. “Probably not the best idea, Sam. Think sibling rivalry on a grander scale.”

Sam looked away from Molly to Sharon and then back to Molly. “You two are related?” he asked Molly.

“Cousins,” Molly said. “Our grandmother is Peggy Carter.”

“Get out,” Sam said, his eyes wide. “Your grandmother was the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Yes,” Molly said with a nod. At this point Sharon had gotten up and started to make her way over. When she got to them she stood by Maria. “Sharon.”

“Molly,” Sharon said.

“You two don’t look like cousins,” Sam said.

“We took after our fathers,” Sharon said. “Mine looks more like his mother, so I look more like Peggy Carter and Molly…doesn’t.”

Molly tried to remain expressionless. “I suppose,” she said quietly.

“Were you suggesting we pair off and spar, Sam?” Sharon asked, turning to face Sam. Sam nodded. “I think that sounds like a great idea.” Molly looked at her with wide eyes as she looked back. “I’ve learned a few things since the last time I saw her.”

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” Maria said.

“We’ll be fine,” Molly said, her tone even, not taking her eyes off her cousin. She gestured to the mat Maria and Sam had been using. “Shall we?”

Sharon nodded. “Yes.”

The two women went to the center of the mat. Molly hadn’t stayed away from sparring; she took jiu jitsu classes and worked with a personal trainer who taught her things from other specialties and mixed martial arts, plus she kick boxed as well. Just because she had left S.H.I.E.L.D. after a relatively short time and hadn’t gone on many missions didn’t mean there wasn’t the chance she hadn’t made enemies. And there was always the chance that exactly what had happened now could have happened sooner, with her classified records being leaked. It never hurt to stay at the ready, just in case. She could easily hold her own against whatever her cousin threw at her.

They started off easy, testing each other out, seeing what each other’s weak spots were before it began to get more intense. “You’re good,” Sharon said as Molly sent a kick to her head. “A bit slow, but I’d expect that from someone who’s out of the game.”

“Well, I’d expect better from someone who was in the field, and younger than me to boot,” Molly said as Sharon tried to get her in a hold while Molly got her balance again. She slipped out of it easily enough. “It’s what you get for doing surveillance. Cushy jobs make you soft.”

“Like you do much cutting up dead bodies for a living,” Sharon scoffed.

“Well, at least I didn’t allow Fury to talk me into chatting up Grandmum’s boyfriend,” Molly said, glaring.

Sharon got a set to her jaw. “I wouldn’t have allowed anything to happen between me and Steve,” she said, taking a swing at Molly, who easily deflected it.

“But why you? Why not any of the other women who work for S.H.I.E.L.D.? Surely there were other women with your clearance level and skill set,” Molly said, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet. “Didn’t it feel at all strange to know that the man living down the hall from you, the one you were supposed to keep an eye on, the one who, for all we know, Fury could have insisted you go on a date or two with, could have been our grandfather?” She squatted down and swept her leg out, knocking Sharon off her feet. After a moment she used her body to pin her cousin down to the mat.

“I’d rather have handled it than let someone else screw it up,” Sharon said, gritting her teeth slightly as she struggled against Molly’s grip.

Molly’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. You volunteered.”

Sharon glared and then pushed up, causing Molly to land on her arse. “So what?”

“Do Aunt Kate and Uncle Allen know?” she asked, trying so hard not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Oh Lord, her cousin fancied for the man their grandmother had fancied. This…this was too much. Oh, this was just too much.

“Shut up,” Sharon said. “At least I did something about my crush.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Oh, if you think you’re going to throw my infatuation with Sherlock in my face and embarrass me with that, Sharon, don’t bother. It’s old news. He doesn’t care.” She wasn’t about to mention the fact he’d kissed her. Sharon didn’t need to know that, not when she was trying to sort out how she felt about that. She pushed herself up from her sitting position and looked around. She could see people were starting to pay attention to them and she hoped they didn’t attract a crowd. “I moved on.”

“Yes. To a Sherlock wannabe,” Sharon said, getting up off the ground herself. “You know, that was one thing that had always disappointed Grandma about you. Well, one of the things. You didn’t have gumption, she said. When you left S.H.I.E.L.D., you left behind the strong part of yourself and you became a mouse, just like your mother.”

Molly stood stock still, her back still to her cousin. “You take that back,” she said quietly.

“Why?” Sharon said. “Those were her words, not mine.”

“Grandmum wouldn’t call my mum a disappointment,” Molly said, turning around. “She loved my mum.””

“She barely remembers her,” Sharon said. “She barely remembers you. It’s what Alzheimer’s does to a person.” Sharon looked over at her. “You should have stayed gone, Molly. Stayed in your own world of little crimes and left the big world problems to the professionals.”

“Oh, like you ‘professionals’ did all that great a job keeping things all neat and tidy,” Molly scoffed. “Letting HYDRA slip into S.H.I.E.L.D. under everyone’s noses. Wonderful job, that. At least with my crime solving day job I helped bring down a criminal empire.”

“Not you,” Sharon said, moving closer to Molly. “You’re just a cog in the wheel. Just a tiny insignificant speck.”

“Like you’re that much more important to S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Molly replied, moving more into Sharon’s space. “The only reason you’re Agent 13 is because I left. If I was still here, you’d be nobody.”

“But you left, because your mummy got scared,” Sharon said in a slightly mocking tone. “She got scared and she cried and you left it all behind and went running back off to-” Sharon was not expecting the punch that Molly threw at her face and she stumbled backwards slightly. Blood was running down from her nose and she stared at her cousin with wide eyes. “You broke my nose!”

“That is not why I left S.H.I.E.L.D.!” Molly said loudly through gritted teeth. It seemed as if all the noise in the training room ceased for a moment, but only briefly before Sharon came at her. It all became a blur at that point, as the two of them used every skill they had learned in their training, every trick they had learned on the job, everything they had picked up from mentors and friends who they had trained with, until Molly felt a pair of arms go around her waist and pull her away from the fight as she saw a pair of hands go to Sharon’s shoulders to hold her back. She looked up and saw Sam holding Sharon back to keep her from lunging forward before she sagged slightly and clutched at her ribs Somehow Molly had managed to break skin over her eye and blood had dripped down her face. She looked an absolute fright.

Served her right.

Molly realized it was Captain Rogers who had pulled her back and she stopped resisted as he physically carried her over to where Clint, Natasha, Sherlock and Mary were watching. “Can I trust you not to go back and keep fighting your cousin?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Molly said, a bit sullenly. He let her go and she turned to face him. “I see they released you from the hospital.”

He nodded. “I heal pretty quickly. Super serum will do that.” He studied her for a moment. “You’re definitely a Carter woman. You remind me a lot of Peggy. More than Sharon, I mean. Is your name short for Margaret too?”

She nodded. “Yes. My grandmum had been touched that my mum named me after her, but to keep the confusion to a minimum I was nicknamed Molly instead of Peggy. Still, we bonded over that, when I could come to the States or she could come to Bozeat to visit.” She looked around him at where Maria, Sam and Sharon were. Sharon still looked quite angry, even as Maria and Sam tried to calm her down. Then she looked back at Captain Rogers. “Perhaps it’s best if I go elsewhere.”

He nodded. “That might be a good idea,” he said before turning and heading towards Sharon and the others.

“You can start by letting us know why you really left S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Natasha said. She turned to Clint. “Did you use Tony’s name and get the good suite at the Four Seasons like he told you to?”

Clint nodded. “Yeah. Tab on room service and everything.”

“Good. Then food and drinks are on Tony tonight,” Natasha said. “Get your stuff and let’s go relax. I think I want to know exactly what happened to make one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best agents leave.”

Natasha made her way to the locker area with Mary following. Clint was right behind them, but Sherlock lingered. Molly looked over at him. “Yes?” she asked.

He gently ran his thumb across her fat lip and she winced. Ever since the kiss outside her hotel room, he’d found reasons to stay close, to touch her. She knew she shouldn’t let him; she and Tom weren’t officially unengaged, just putting things on hold. But she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the moments when he was near her. They sent a shiver of awareness through her, just as this one did. “We should get ice for that,” he said quietly.

“Natasha will make sure there’s at least one bottle of ice cold Stoli in the room,” she said. “If her, Clint and I leave any in the bottle I’ll just put that to my lips.” She reached over for his other hand, running her fingers along the palm. “But I do thank you for your concern.”

“I find your well being one of my highest concerns,” he said, grasping her hand for a moment before pulling away to head to the locker rooms. She watched him move away, her hand already missing the feel of his. If she hadn’t fallen in love with him before, she certainly was falling in love with him now, she realized. Soon she would have to make a choice, to either keep what she had with Tom, who was safe and reliable, or see what might be there with Sherlock…if there was anything there at all.

---

Molly had to admit, she was extremely envious of the accommodations Clint had. The Royal Suite at the Four Seasons was nothing short of extravagant. He had mentioned that, unlike most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, he didn’t actually live in Washington D.C., instead being more or less on the move. He had a home base, he just didn’t tell most people where it was. Molly knew she didn’t know him well enough anymore to be privy to that information, and that was fine. Apparently Stark had overheard him complain about the subpar conditions of a hotel room he’d had in Johannesburg and the next thing he knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was telling him that Tony Stark would be personally covering the cost of his accommodations and Tony had said whenever possible get the best of the best, no expense spared.

And he took full advantage of it every opportunity he got.

Clint had told everyone not to bother with the showers at the gym because he had a better one, and when she saw it it certainly did not disappoint. He had requested additional bathrobes for all of them, and she had been pleased to see they were the thick terry cloth kind. He’d also asked for extra bath products, enough for five people to make use of them. They’d each made use of the facilities, and while she was fairly sure everyone else had made use of the shower by the time it was her turn she realized she was quite sore. Say what she would about her cousin, Sharon had delivered quite a beating. She eyed the white marble bathtub before sticking her head back out to the others, who were lounging out in fresh changes of clothes. “Would you mind terribly if I took a bath?” she asked.

Clint grinned. “With the way Agent 13 was throwing those punches I thought you might want to.” He got up and went to another part of the suite and after a moment came back out, tossing a plastic jar at Molly, which she easily caught. “For your muscles when you’re done. It’ll work wonders.”

She looked down at the unmarked jar. “What is this?” she asked.

“Barton’s secret muscle rub recipe,” Natasha said with a smirk. “It makes Tiger Balm seem like after shower lotion. Trust me, you’ll want to steal the jar.”

“She can keep it,” he said. Natasha turned to him and raised an eyebrow at him. “I have only seen one other person in all of S.H.I.E.L.D. throw those series of punches she got off after Sharon nearly fractured her rib and that was Melinda May in Pakistan in ‘02. I mean, people have been trying and failing to do it ever since but Molly…Molly did it flawlessly.”

“Molly taught it to her,” Nat said with a grin.

“Who taught it to you?” Clint asked, turning to Molly.

“Jim Morita,” she said with a smile. “He incorporated martial arts into his fighting style, and when I was younger he taught it to me.” Her smile faltered slightly, just for a moment, but she knew her friends had caught it. They had to. She purposefully brightened it again. “I’ll go settle in for a soak. I’ll try not to take too long, I promise.”

“Take all the time you want,” Clint said. “We’ll order the Stoli and try not to drink it all.”

“He’s joking,” Natasha said. “We’ll wait for you. Go soak.”

She nodded and then headed back into the white marble bathroom, turning on the taps at the sculptural bathtub and adjusting them to the right temperature before stripping out of her clothing and then climbing in. She had glanced at the assortment of lovely Salvatore Ferragamo bath products and chose a few that appealed to her and then settled in, letting them and the hot water do their magic.

She wasn’t quite sure how long she had been in there when there was a knock on the door. “Molly?” she heard Sherlock say.

“Yes?” she called back, sitting up slightly.

“The others wish to order from the room service menu. Barton wants to know if you’re hungry.”

Now that she thought about it, she was famished. “Yes, I suppose I am. But I want to put the muscle rub on before I put the fresh clothing on.”

There was a pause. “I could help,” he said.

She was quiet for a few moments. This was treading on very dangerous ground. There was an attraction between them, and the two of them alone in a room with her in…well, either a towel and her bra and knickers or at the very least far less clothing than usual could be asking for trouble. But even though she’d been in the water so long that it was now tepid her muscles were still quite sore and she was fairly sure she was going to have quite a few bruises. Her damnable cousin really had learned how to throw a punch over the years. “All right,” she said. “But at least let me dry off and put on my bra and knickers.”

“Very well.” She got out of the bathtub, letting the water drain out, and went for a towel to dry herself off. Once she was dry enough she moved to her bag to fetch the clean knickers she’d stored there and the regular bra she’d brought. She put them both on and then for good measure wrapped herself in the towel before going to the door and opening it. Sherlock stood there, his hair still damp from the shower, garbed in denim trousers and a dark grey button down shirt that he hadn’t bothered to tuck in. She’d seen him in denim on a few occasions but not often, since he usually preferred his suits, and she wasn’t used to seeing him quite so casual. She liked this look, though. It suited him. “Thank you.”

He nodded and came into the room. “Where is the jar?” he asked.

“Over on the vanity,” she said. “The one on the left.”

She watched him move over to the vanity and pick up the jar, unscrewing the lid and dipping his fingers inside. “Pungent,” he said when he took a whiff.

She groaned. “I’m not going to reek, am I?” she asked.

He grinned just slightly and shook his head. “It smells more like the inside of an herbal tea shop,” he said. “But not in a bad way.” He motioned for her to turn around and for her to let the towel fall open in the back so he could spread the ointment onto her. She did as he instructed and he dabbed it onto her skin in the middle of her shoulders before slowly massaging it in. She hung her head forward, enjoying the feel of his fingers kneading the tension out of her muscles and the ointment warming up on her skin.

After a time he moved his hands away and then began to work on her back, very carefully kneading the muscles there too as she braced one hand on the vanity while the other held the towel to her chest. His hands were really quite exquisite, she realized, and while there was a small part of her that realized she should feel embarrassed at being in her bra and knickers with only a towel covering the front of her but oh, she needed this. She almost whimpered when Sherlock pulled his hands away. “That was very nice,” she said finally, reaching around to put the towel around her again before turning to face him.

“I thought it best if it was massaged in properly. And your muscles could probably use it. Though,” he said, stepping closer to her, “the rest of you could probably use a massage as well.”

The shiver of awareness ran through her again, the rush of anticipation. If this was how he flirted, dear God, she was lost. “I suppose it could,” she said.

“Then perhaps tonight I could arrange for you to have one,” he said.

“Will you be giving the massage?” she asked, looking up at him.

“I hadn’t intended to let anyone else do it,” he said, closing the gap between them. He looked down at her. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

“Yes,” she said before she even thought about it. Her eyes widened as soon as she realized she’d said it, though.

“But you don’t want to hurt Tom,” he said quietly.

She nodded. “I…don’t know how I feel. About him, about you. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next few days, let alone after this mission is over. I don’t know whether you’ll still be fascinated with me when this is all said and done and we go back home and you go back to solving crimes and I go back to cutting up bodies and this…this all goes away. I don’t know if you’ll still want me when I’m not exciting anymore. I don’t know if it’s best to stay with Tom because he loved me when I was boring.”

Sherlock was quiet for a moment and then leaned in slightly. She shut her eyes, thinking he might kiss her, but instead he pressed his lips to her forehead. “He was not the only one who loved you when you were boring,” he said quietly before he pulled away. “He was just the only one who had the brass ones to say so.” She watched him walk to the door and then pause. “I’ll tell them you’ll be out shortly.”

She nodded again, slightly dazed. Sherlock didn’t just…had Sherlock just admitted he was in love with her? Had he just admitted he’d been in love with her for some time now? She slumped against the vanity for a moment and thought back. When he had come back to London, there had been the case with the mummified body. Had that…was that his way of saying he had been interested, even though she was engaged? Had she told him that day that she didn’t care if he was interested?

Oh, this was so confusing.

She shook her head and concentrated on getting the ointment on the rest of her sore muscles, massaging it in as best she could. When she was done she put on the fresh clothing she’d brought to find the others waiting and giving her rather knowing looks. Oh dear Lord. They had to think she and Sherlock had been up to some hanky panky. Wonderful. She rolled her eyes and sat on the sofa near Natasha. “Whatever X-rated shenanigans you think happened in the bathroom, forget them. Sherlock just massaged the ointment into my shoulders and back since they’re hard to reach.”

“Whatever you say,” Clint said, giving her a grin from the chair.

Molly glared at him. “Do I need to remind you that I was on sixteen missions with you, Barton, including the ‘mysterious’ Budapest mission? And that while you joke about it I know exactly what happened?”

Natasha laughed as Clint’s grin dropped. “Fine, point made.”

“Thank you,” Molly said.

“Take away all my fun,” Clint grumbled.

“Well, Tony Stark is allowing you to run up a small fortune in expenses, and there are five of us today,” Mary pointed out. “I’d say that’s a bit of fun.”

Clint grinned just a tiny bit at that. “When you put it that way…”

Mary had picked up the Bourbon Steak in-room dining menu and been studying it. “There aren’t any prices but I think I’d like to try the half dozen iced oysters.”

“Oysters?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mary shrugged. “It’s not very often I get the opportunity to have them on someone else’s dime who isn’t John,” she said. “I adore my fiancé, I do, but he’s a bit of a thrifty spender. And if a billionaire is going to let me splurge, even if he doesn’t know I’m splurging, then I’m going to splurge.”

“Oysters sound fine,” Clint said. “Two orders, though, so we can each have at least two?” There was a general murmur of agreement at that. In the end they spent a bit of time studying the menus, and then the massive order was called in. Along with the oysters, Mary got the 10 oz Wagyu Hanger Steak with wood-roasted “magical” mushrooms & black truffle mac and cheese on the side from the Bourbon Steak menu and then the Maryland crab cake bites from the regular menu. Clint got an order of the iced jumbo shrimp to start with and a 14 oz Angus New York strip steak with a Cajun spice rub and double whipped mashed potatoes and creamy mac and cheese on the side for his meal. Sherlock decided to start with the grilled tomato and guajillo pepper soup and the Mediterranean platter, and he got the Dopiaza Indian curry with skirt steak as his main dish. Molly had toyed with the idea of getting the Mediterranean platter herself but Sherlock offered to share his, so she settled on the Maryland crab cake bites for her appetizer and the Thai beef rice noodle salad and the Lebanese grilled chicken kabob for her main courses. Natasha got the Lebanese lentil soup and a tomato, mozzarella and basil pizza. Clint also asked for three bottles of extremely cold Stoli to be brought up as well since there wasn’t any in the room’s bar, and he was told it would all be taken care of as quickly as possible.

Clint looked amused when he hung up. “You’re going to put away the whole pizza yourself, aren’t you?” he said towards Natasha.

“Possibly,” she said, a gleam in her eye and a grin on her face. “I may leave some of it for tomorrow. You do have a refrigerated bar, after all. I can leave a few slices in there for safekeeping.”

Clint grinned at that. “So you’re crashing here?”

Her grin faltered slightly. “I know I’m being watched. There are eyes on all of us…Steve, Sam, Maria. Everyone intimately involved in what happened at the Triskelion. If Tony knows this is your suite I’m sure it’s already been swept for bugs. Pepper would have made sure of it. It’ll be safe here. Secure. I could use a night of that.”

“Nat, you can stay here for a while,” Clint said, his expression softening. “It’s a suite. You can take the bed and I can see about them sending in a rollaway bed or hell, I can take the sofa. You really think Tony’s going to care if I have someone else stay with me? Hell, I could probably book another suite for Molly and her friends and he wouldn’t blink an eye. All I have to say is they’re friends, they’re good people, I trust them. He’d probably say go for it.”

“You don’t have to, Clinton,” Molly said, her eyes widening. “Our accommodations are fine. Really, they are.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “The Marriott is better than the Four Seasons?”

“I just don’t want to take advantage,” Molly said.

“Mycroft would love it if someone else picked up the tab for the expenditures,” Sherlock said. Molly looked over at him and he shrugged. “We have no idea how long this will take. Originally we were simply supposed to protect the interests of Queen and country. Now you’ve found out that a friend of yours has been murdered and you want to track down the persons responsible and try to help rebuild the organization to the ideals that your grandmother had for it. It could be something that takes weeks or months. If Tony Stark is willing to cover costs, especially as this seems to be becoming something that is becoming less and less official as days go by, Mycroft would be the first to tell you to take advantage of it.”

Molly nodded then. “All right, I suppose,” she said. “We can move our accommodations here, I suppose.”

Clint nodded, then looked over at Natasha. “Is this going to become some sort of quasi Avengers thing?” he asked. “I mean, are we going to get Bruce to be a part of this? Try and get Thor involved again?”

Natasha tilted her head. “I don’t know if we really need them to be, at this point,” she said. “The circle should stay small and tight. It’s what Fury would want. The five of us, Sam, Steve, Maria…Tony if he’s willing. I think beyond bankrolling things, though, he may not be.” She glanced over at Molly. “Coulson and his team, if we can find them. If they want to help. They may have their own vendetta, all things considered.” She looked over at Molly. “I think someone promised us a story first, though. But…after we eat, when we have Stoli in our system. Somehow I think we’ll need it.”

Molly nodded. Yes, the food and the booze would help. She knew it would. It wasn’t exactly the most pleasant of stories and she didn’t like thinking about it so having the booze in her system would give her the boost she needed to get through the telling of it.

She hoped.

---

When the food service arrived they ate and chatted about various things, keeping the topic light. Once the Stoli started flowing the conversation turned more towards old missions, with Clint, Natasha and Molly talking about S.H.I.E.L.D. missions and Mary talking about some of the things she did for the C.I.A. and Sherlock chiming in a few times with related stories with things he did for the British government. For a little while, at least, things seemed nice and relaxed and Molly almost hoped that everyone would forget that she had said she’d tell them why she really left S.H.I.E.L.D.

But as things wound down and they started in on the dessert orders they’d called in from room service after they’d gone through nearly a bottle and a half of Stoli between them, Natasha pointed a forkful of the chocolate chip cookie pie she was eating at her. “All right, Molly. We’ve been patient. So why did you leave S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Molly looked down at her dessert, the exotic fruit salad with coconut lime angel food cake, and stabbed her fork into the cake before taking a forkful. She lifted up the fork, staring at the cake. “It’s kind of complicated,” she said.

“We have all the time in the world,” Clint said before taking a bite of his chocolate cake. “You guys can stay as long as you want until you need to run back to get your stuff before settling into your suite here.”

Molly took the forkful of cake and speared some of the fruit salad before eating it. “My grandmum married an Allied soldier that Captain Rogers had rescued. She had my mother and my uncle Richard, who’s Sharon’s father. My mum and my grandmum never really got along, unfortunately. I never really got an answer why, and when my mum was old enough she went to England to go to Oxford for university. While she was there she met my father. It turned out my dad was related to Chester Phillips, who ran the unit that Captain Rogers was attached to in the Army.”

“Rather a small world,” Mary said, giving her a grin before taking a bite of her fruit cobbler and ice cream that she’d mixed together.

Molly nodded. “That was how they’d hit it off, as they’d seen each other on occasion growing up. It had been a few years by the time they met in England, and when they met again it ended up blossoming into love. My father was working in a government position and they decided to stay in England when she got out of university. They were quite happy with each other. But he was keeping something from her.”

“I take it his government position was a cover of some sort?” Sherlock asked.

Molly nodded. “He had a similar position to what Mycroft has now,” she said. “Connections to MI-6 and S.H.I.E.L.D. and a few other organizations in the intelligence community. He kept it from my mum because he knew she wasn’t a fan of her mum’s past with the SSR and S.H.I.E.L.D.. And he kept it from me until I got involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. myself.”

“I take it that was Director Carter’s influence?” Clint asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yes. I loved my grandmum. I didn’t get to see her as often as I would have liked, but I used to spend every summer in the States with her and my granddad. I used to listen to all of her stories about the war and the early days of S.H.I.E.L.D., and I knew all the Howling Commandos and I used to listen to all their stories about the things they did with Captain Rogers and then with my grandmum after the war, and…I wanted to do it so bad. I knew my mum wouldn’t approve but when I graduated I spent my gap year with my grandmum in early admittance to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy before I started university at Georgetown University.”

Mary blinked. “So you were a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and in uni at the same time?”

Molly nodded. “Full time uni student, part time S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, all the way through medical school. It was a tough balance, but I quite enjoyed it. But anyway, that was when I realized my father was involved in the intelligence community. I even worked on a few joint missions with him.” She faltered for a moment before she continued. “I was in my last year of medical school, on a long weekend, and doing a very quick mission in Argentina. It was really simple. In and out. It was supposed to take us three days. What I didn’t know was the first day of the mission, someone had gone after my father in his home in London.”

Mary set her food aside and reached over for her hand, grasping it tightly. “What happened?”

Molly squeezed her hand back. “Someone was tying up loose ends in a mission that had gone badly that I wasn’t involved in but he was,” she said. “They broke into my parent’s home and tried to kill my father when he was home alone. He fought them off but they left him in critical condition. My mum couldn’t get a hold of me, and she called my grandmum, and when she told her the truth my mum was furious. They had a huge row. And then the next thing I knew the mission was scrubbed and I was back in DC for just a few hours before being tossed on a flight to London.”

Natasha reached over for the half empty bottle of Stoli and motioned for Molly to get her shot glass. Molly set her plate aside and picked it up, holding it forward, and Natasha filled it up and then Molly slammed it back. “What happened next?” she asked.

“In the time that it took for me to be brought from Argentina to DC and then sent on to London my father had a stroke. My mother didn’t want to speak to me at first but when she finally did she begged me to leave S.H.I.E.L.D., to leave that life behind, to solely focus on medical school and going into forensic pathology instead like I’d planned. And…seeing what had happened to my father, seeing how wrong things could go, I conceded to her wishes,” Molly said. “My grandmum said she understood, but our relationship wasn’t quite the same after that. To be honest, neither was my relationship with my mother, not that she lived much longer. My dad died six months after the attack and my mum only lived three more years after that.”

Everyone stayed quiet after that, and soon Natasha started motioning for everyone to hand round their shot glasses for another shot of Stoli. Once the shots were poured they all raised them up in quiet salute. “Vechnaya pamyat,” Natasha said before taking a drink. The others followed suit and then they lapsed into silence again.

Molly set her glass down and then pulled her knees up to her chest. “So that’s the whole story. I have no idea who knows the whole truth these days, aside from my grandmum. Not that she remembers it, with the Alzheimer’s. Sharon knows some version of the story, apparently. But at least now you know the whole truth.”

“And we’re glad you trusted us with it,” Sherlock said solemnly, looking at her, his gaze rather compassionate, for him. She gave him a small smile and got one in return and realized that it had been good to share the story, good to share the truth. She knew Sherlock had read all of the files about her leaked out onto the internet, and if he hadn’t known this before this meant that her grandmum had kept it a secret in the official files. The fact that her friends knew the secret, knew the truth…it made her feel better.

---

The three of them stayed in Clint’s suite for a little while longer before leaving him and Natasha alone around eleven, heading to the Marriott to go get their things. Mycroft had indeed been quite happy for someone else to take up the cost of their lodgings while they were in Washington D.C., and Clint had said if they had to go anywhere else Tony said the offer of top of the line lodgings for the trio went with them. Molly realized she and Mary had remarkably high alcohol tolerances but Sherlock…not so much. He’d not had as much to drink as the rest of them but by the time they got back to the Four Seasons he was still a bit on the tipsy side.

The Four Seasons had been quite booked it had seemed and the Imperial Suite had been taken, as had most of the rooms with double beds, so they’d been settled in one of the Capital Suites in the hotel’s West wing, not too far away from Clint’s suite. Mary had said she was going to turn in for the night as soon as they had their sleeping arrangements settled, with Molly and Mary sharing the bed and Sherlock taking the sofa bed, leaving Molly and Sherlock in the private sitting area by themselves. They, too, had a private bar, but Molly had had enough alcohol this evening and so she simply helped herself to some of the cola there for mixing. Sherlock was sitting on the sofa and while she had initially sat in a chair he patted the spot next to him and she moved over. “You seem different when you’re tipsy,” she said with a smile.

“I am,” he said, giving her a grin. “Which is why I usually never imbibe.”

“You like being seen as serious and uptight?” she asked.

“I like being in control,” he said, leaning back into the sofa. “I tend to lose my inhibitions when I drink.”

“Well, most of us do,” she said. She pulled her legs up under her and took a sip of her cola. “It makes life very interesting.”

“I suppose,” he said. He looked over at her. “You like me when I’m serious, though.”

“I do, but I like you this way too,” she said. “I’m quite fond of you, Sherlock.” She looked down at her drink for a moment, not sure if she wanted to bring up the thought in her head, not sure if she wanted to say it out loud. But she had to know, and she supposed now was the best time to ask him, when he was relaxed, when he would be open and honest. “In the washroom, before you left, you said something. You said Tom wasn’t the only one who loved me when I was boring. He was just the only one who said something.”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “I did.”

“Were you talking about you?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” he said, just as quietly. “I know I haven’t been back for long, that the timing is awful and it probably isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. You should know that. You should know it so you can make the best decision.”

“How long?” she asked, looking over at him. “How long have you been in love with me?”

“I don’t think I realized it until I was gone,” he said. “Maybe three months in. I was in Prague and I saw a beautiful sight, the city in a light fog, and I thought that I wanted you to be there to see it. And I realized I missed you, in a way that I didn’t miss anyone else. That had to mean something.”

She nodded before looking down at his hands. “You’ve studied Tom, I’m sure,” she said.

“Yes,” he replied.

“If I go back to London like this, acting the way I have been, this…confident me, not the quiet, mousy me…would he be happy?”

Sherlock was quiet long enough that she turned her gaze back up to look at him again and saw he was scratching his chin slightly, as though he was seriously considering it. Perhaps she should have asked if he would be happy first. She still could, but she wanted to know about Tom first.

“He could be,” he finally said. “But I think it would take a lot of adjusting, and I’m not sure your relationship would survive it. Do you know what happens when a grossly overweight woman loses a vast amount of weight and develops a svelte figure while in a relationship?” She shook her head. “Most times, if the partner was not supportive of the change from the beginning and actively working with her for the change, perhaps going through the change with her, he tries to sabotage her. Or he allows his gaze to wander back to women who are as she had been. Either way, he is not happy. Tom could be like that.”

“So you don’t think he’d be happy,” she said quietly, sipping her drink.

“It stems from the fact you’ve kept a large portion of your life a falsehood,” he said. “Not just what you did in university and medical school, but your legacy. Your grandmother headed up one of the greatest intelligence agencies of all time and your father was a member of the British intelligence community. You had to keep it secret, of course, but the fact you couldn’t trust him will come as a blow. Toss in the abrupt change in personality, and…” He trailed off, letting her finish the sentence as she saw fit.

“And it spells disaster,” she said, a bit glumly. She looked down at her drink and almost wished there was liquor in it. “You don’t seem to mind the change in my personality, though.”

“I’d thought it was there, beneath the surface,” he said. “I knew that, given the right set of circumstances, there was more to you than just being the quiet and meek hopeless romantic.”

She smiled slightly. “What do you prefer, though?” she asked, looking up at him.

He reached over and carefully tucked a strand of hair that had fallen down back behind her ear. “I have no preference,” he said quietly. “I know they are all bits and pieces of you, Molly, and that there are probably more than that beneath the surface, and I hope that I will have time to discover all of them someday.”

She felt a small shiver of awareness trill through her as his fingers brushed across her cheek and her eyes met his. She stared at him for a long moment, seeing something in his eyes, something she knew was in her own eyes. There was an underlying passion in that gaze. She tore her eyes away and set her glass on the table. “Just a kiss,” she said when she looked at him again.

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“I want to see, before I make a decision. Between you and Tom. I just…I want to see if what I felt when you kissed me the last time was a fluke. So one kiss. That’s all. Then I’m going to bed and you’re pulling out the bed in the sofa and I’ll think about things and make my decision, all right?”

He nodded slowly. “So one kiss. That’s all.”

“That’s it. No grabby hands, no wandering hands, nothing like that. One solitary kiss and that’s it,” she said with a finite nod.

“May I at least pull you closer?” he asked. She nodded again, and he reached over and pulled her closer, settling his hands on her waist as he nearly pulled her onto his lap, giving her a bit of leverage in the kiss. He was holding her gently, almost as though he was afraid that he would hurt her. He moved one hand away , sliding it up her spine until it cradled the back of her head, and then he raised his head as she lowered hers, their lips meeting halfway. She supposed they had both meant for it to be something soft and simple, perhaps something tender or sweet, but soon she realized even though she had said no grabby hands she was clinging to him, pressing herself close as she deepened the kiss, and soon he was shifting their position slightly to lower her to the sofa and she was letting her hands wander as he kissed her deeply. It seemed to be with extreme reluctance that he pulled away, his eyes just slightly wide, his lips slightly swollen from where she’d nibbled on them and his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “I think we were about to get carried away.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Oh God, she’d nearly shagged him on the sofa. She’d wanted to shag him on the sofa. She leveraged herself up on her elbows as he got up more, finally moving over to the far side of the sofa. She sat up herself and then straightened up her appearance. She wasn’t quite sure Mary was actually asleep yet and she’d be damned if she entertained questions from her friend about this. “I should get some sleep,” she said.

“As should I,” he said with a nod. “Good night, Molly.”

“Good night, Sherlock,” she said as she got up off the sofa and made her way to the bedroom. Oh, she was going to have a rough night’s sleep tonight, she knew, in more ways than one.