Fic for colebaltblue: Playing The Game: Act I - Pawns & Politics, Secrets & Strategy, Part 4/4
The day the Senate committee made their decision about the future of S.H.I.E.L.D. Molly and Natasha were there among the non Congressional members in attendance. It was done rather quickly, to her surprise; she was used to hearing horror stories of gridlock in American politics but the American government seemed to want to make an example of S.H.I.E.L.D. so they made their decision within a matter of two weeks after the events at the Triskelion. More was the pity, she supposed. She’d offered to go somewhere with Natasha afterward, go commiserate at one of the many bars or pubs in the D.C. area, but Natasha said she had something to attend to. Just as well, she supposed; Molly felt it was best if someone gave the news personally to her grandmother, and she felt it should be her. They agreed to meet in Clint’s suite at five to make plans as to what to do next and then went their separate ways.
Molly went to the retirement home with a heavy heart. She had almost hoped someone else could break the news but really, other than Captain Rogers and Sharon, she doubted anyone else would, that anyone else would care to. She made her way to the nurse’s desk and smiled at the nurse there. “I’d like to speak to Peggy Carter, please. I’m her granddaughter, Margaret Hooper.”
The nurse smiled at her. “She’ll be pleased to see you. Two visitors in one day. It’s a treat.”
Molly frowned slightly. “Who was her other visitor?” she asked.
“That dashing young Captain America gentleman,” the nurse said with a smile.
Molly relaxed slightly. She wasn’t sure if Captain Rogers had visited after the decision had been made, or if her grandmum would remember the conversation, but at least he had seen her. That was good. The nurse came around the station and then took Molly to the room. Her grandmother had gotten out of her bed and was sitting by the window, looking out. “Peggy?” the nurse said after knocking on the door to get her attention. “Your granddaughter is here.”
Peggy turned to look at them and gave Molly a smile. “Margaret!” she said. “It’s so lovely to see you again! It’s been ages.”
Molly felt a small lump in her throat. Her grandmother didn’t remember that she had been here earlier, it seemed, when she first arrived in Washington D.C. The problems were getting worse. But she pasted on a smile and came into the room. “Yes, it has,” she said, coming into the room and moving to the chair across from hers, the chair she assumed Captain Rogers had sat in. “I thought I should pay my favorite grandmum a visit.”
“I always knew I was your favorite,” Peggy said conspiratorially, leaning in. “Have you decided to go back to S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
In that moment Molly knew, no matter what, she wouldn’t tell her grandmum about S.H.I.E.L.D., about HYDRA infiltrating it and the government disbanding it and all of that. She would let her have her memories, however many she had left, and let them be untainted and pure. If anyone else wanted to ruin them , well, then that was their business. But it wouldn’t be her that did that to her grandmum. Never her. She reached over for Peggy’s hand and grasped it, giving her a wider smile. “You could say that,” she said. “I’m working on something in conjunction with Her Majesty’s government and I’m helping S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Peggy got a wide smile on her face and then used her other hand to pat Molly’s cheek. “I knew you couldn’t stay away,” she said.
“No, I couldn’t,” she said, shutting her eyes, savoring this. God, she’d missed her grandmum so much. She should have tried to patch things up earlier, should have tried to make their relationship better, and now it was too late. She wanted to cry but refused to let herself. Finally she opened her eyes. “I heard there’s a garden here. Are you up for a walk in the garden, perhaps?”
“I think I might be,” Peggy said with a nod.
“Good,” Molly said. She pulled away from her grandmother and waited while she got ready, chatting with her, and then they made their way to the gardens. It was a hard visit, emotionally draining, and when she was done it was nearly three.
She made her way back to the Four Seasons to the suite after doing a bit of shopping and saw that Sherlock was there, absently flipping through the channels on the telly. There had been a bit of awkwardness since the second kiss, but right now she didn’t care. She set her purchases down on the bar and then went straight towards the sofa and sat down, burrowing in next to him, needing to be close. He was surprised. “What happened?” he asked.
“I went to see my grandmum after the hearing,” she replied. He didn’t seem to need any more explanation than that. It was a bit awkward at first, but after a moment he was rubbing small circles into her back as she rested her head on his chest. She shut her eyes and concentrated on listening to his heartbeat. Soon she felt calmer, more at peace. After a time she lifted her head up. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, looking at her.
She stared back for a moment, not sure what else to do, before she pulled away. She stood up and then moved towards the bar. “Is Mary here?”
“Went to an archery range with Barton,” he said. “She seems to have taken a liking to the crossbow.”
“Should we be worried?” she asked with a small smile.
“Possibly,” he said. “John may need to worry about her having the urge to go to the country and take hunting trips in the future.”
She made herself a drink, whiskey and cola, and then looked at it a moment. It was a bit early but it had been a trying day. “Have you heard about the hearing?”
“Wonderful thing about American television and the supposed transparency of government. They like to televise their congressional hearings on C-SPAN,” he said. “I watched them officially disband S.H.I.E.L.D. Britain’s interests seemed to be taken care of, however. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agents who answer to Her Majesty as well as the Americans should be safe enough.”
Molly nodded. “I think I did what Mycroft asked me to do well enough, then,” she said.
“You did, and not only that, you did it beautifully,” he said. “If this Coulson person doesn’t try and recruit you in this off-the-record S.H.I.E.L.D. Mycroft may try and poach you for MI-6.”
Molly made a face. “I’m trying to stay out of the spy game, not get back into it. As soon as I’m done tracking down Phil and dealing with the tossers who were involved in Victoria’s death I’m done. I’m going back to London, back to Barts, and I’m putting this all behind me.”
Sherlock steepled his fingers in front of his face. “You know Mycroft won’t stop pestering you. His superiors won’t allow it.”
“Wonderful,” she murmured. She took a sip from her drink and then looked at her hands. She had something she had to do before her meeting with the others. If she waited much longer the time difference was going to make it very late in England, and this was already going to be rough enough as it was. “I need to go do something. I’ll be in the bedroom, all right?”
Sherlock nodded. “All right.”
“At five we’re going to meet in Clinton’s suite to figure out what to do next, so don’t make any other plans.”
“Very well,” Sherlock said, going back to flipping through channels.
Molly picked up her drink and her bag with her purchases and went to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She went to the bed and then pulled her mobile out of her pocket, pulling up Tom’s familiar contact. After a moment’s hesitation, she hit send and listened to it ring. It rang once and then went voicemail. She blinked at that. That was…odd. She hung up then without leaving a message. Then, after a moment, she called again. This time it went straight to voicemail. She’d been quite busy since she’d been in D.C., and she’d sent texts. They’d been answered, but…slowly. Maybe that should have been a sign. Perhaps she was on his “I don’t want to speak to you” list.
Maybe that would make this easier.
She went to the bag and pulled out the ring box and the mailing envelope. She had made her decision the night before. She simply couldn’t marry Tom. She was having second thoughts about the whole thing. It wasn’t fair to him that she even entertained such strong feelings for Sherlock that were only growing stronger. It wasn’t right that she wanted to snog Sherlock senseless, wanted to see what it would be like to wind up in bed with him, shagging him senseless. And then there was the fact she didn’t want to go back to the role she’d been playing for so long. She liked the way she was now, with the confidence she’d had so long ago back in her life. She didn’t want to give that up. She wasn’t sure Tom would understand.
And seeing as how he apparently didn’t want to speak with her…
She wrote Tom’s address on the envelope in the Send To section, and then her own address in the Sender section and then set it aside. Then she tugged her engagement ring off her finger and looked at it one last time before putting it into the ring box. Then she went to the nightstand and got some hotel stationary and began composing a letter to Tom. He deserved some explanation, at least. That took the longest, but after an hour she was satisfied with it and she folded up the note and slipped it into the envelope along with the ring box. She would deliver this to a post office personally, have all the insurance put on it and make sure it got to Tom as quickly as possible. It would be hideously expensive but it would be worth it.
By the time she was finished it was time for the meeting between all of them. She took the last sip of her drink and then went out to the living room area of the suit to see Sherlock putting on his suit jacket. “I’m ready whenever you are,” she said to Sherlock.
He nodded and then they left the suite and made their way to Clint’s suite. Sherlock knocked on the door and after a few moments Mary opened it, giving them a grin. “Come on in. The gang’s all here.” Molly and Sherlock stepped inside but they couldn’t see anyone. Mary gestured out towards the terrace. “Outside. It’s a nice evening and all.”
“Ah,” Sherlock replied. The three of them made their way to the doors leading out to the terrace and they saw Clint and Natasha lounging on the chairs there. Natasha had changed into more casual clothing than the attire she’d worn to the hearing, and Sherlock sat near her. He studied her for a moment. “You look as though you’ve had an interesting afternoon.”
“It’s always a joy to talk to ghosts at their grave,” Natasha said.
“Fury?” Molly asked.
Natasha nodded. “I stopped by there to have a chat with him and Steve and Sam. Steve asked me to do him a favor and I was dropping off what I’d found out. Fury came by and we discussed a few things.” She picked up the bottle on the table by her side and took a drink. Molly could see it wasn’t Stoli, just a subpar vodka, which meant Natasha didn’t want to get pissed. “But that wasn’t the only time I had a chat with Fury. He was waiting for me here.”
“Tell them what he said, Nat,” Clint said. Clint had a bottle of Johnnie Walker whiskey next to him. Molly was starting to wonder if she needed to go inside to the bar and fix herself a drink at this point.
“Garrett’s dead,” Natasha said. “Long story short, Coulson’s team found out some information about Garrett. Apparently he was the original Deathlok. He had organized people to try and figure out a way to cure him or make himself more powerful, and he thought he had succeeded. But in the end he was killed. Ward’s still out there, though. Slipped through S.H.I.E.L.D.’s fingers.”
“Like the slippery damn fox he is,” Clint said.
“He wasn’t happy that Barton and I know about Coulson. He said it was safer if we just walked away. Coulson’s S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to be underground now, under the radar. It won’t be official. It can’t be official. But taking care of the Fridge escapees, Fury thinks maybe that’s something Barton and I can help with. ‘Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who went through the Battle of New York and lived to tell about it can be a big help in reigning in a bunch of super powered freaks’ was how he put it. So we’ll be able to help you track down Coulson and his team, but if a threat comes up, Barton and I go take care of it. That’s our priority. That’s our mission.” She had another drink. “I was rather hoping to be able to use this time to work on figuring out a new cover.”
“Well, it just goes to show when we’re the good guys we can’t always get what we want,” Clint said with a wry grin before taking a swig of his own drink. “So what should we do next?”
Molly tilted her head back in her lounger. “I suppose we should go over the intelligence we have, reach out to the contacts we’re able to and then begin the process of tracking down Phil,” she said thoughtfully. “Though if Phil is doing what Fury told him to do and lying extremely low, well…it’s going to be a hell of a time to find him. Especially since S.H.I.E.L.D. is rather a taboo name to use at the moment.”
They were quiet for a moment. “But the Avengers isn’t,” Natasha said slowly.
“Do we want to make this an Avengers thing?” Clint said.
“Only in a dire emergency,” Natasha said. “And only if there’s no other choice.”
“Then we’ll save that as our trump card,” Sherlock said, pulling out his mobile. “But for the moment, I have a much better card to play.”
“Mycroft?” Mary asked.
Sherlock nodded. “Mycroft. Having a brother who is essentially the British government does have its perks, and considering the British government is still playing one-upmanship with the Americans ever since they dumped all that tea in the Boston harbor two hundred years ago…”
Natasha smirked. “Sometimes all of this peacocking between nations is useful,” she said before having some more of her vodka.
“While he’s doing that why don’t we start ordering food?” Clint said. “Not sure about you guys but I’m figuring food is a good idea.”
“You always figure food is a good idea, Barton,” Natasha said, pushing herself up off of her lounger and heading into the suite with Clint right behind her. Sherlock followed after a moment, right as Mycroft picked up and the two brothers began their normal back and forth bickering as they wheedled each other for favours given and favours owed.
Mary drifted over to Molly, sitting down next to her. “Penny for your thoughts, love?” she asked. Apparently Mary had gotten a drink already, as she had a glass in her hand. It appeared to be a gin and tonic.
Molly looked over at her. “I had forgotten all the headache that comes with the spy game, that’s all,” she said, giving her friend a small grin. “It’s not all adrenaline and missions. There’s all the ‘who can I trust?’ and the plotting and the political maneuvering and all of that.”
“It’s why it’s easier being an assassin,” Mary said. “Then you just have to worry about making sure you don’t anger to wrong person, get maneuvered into killing the wrong target or become a pawn in the wrong game.” She took a sip of her drink. “Which is a similar game, I suppose, but there’s a bit less politics.”
Molly sighed. “I can’t wait to put this all behind me again and get back to my life in London.”
“Though a life minus Tom,” Mary said, gesturing to her hand. Molly lifted up her ringless left hand. “I see you made your decision.”
“I tried to call him to tell him over the phone, which I know is a rather shite way of doing it but since I don’t know when I’ll be back…”
“That’s understandable,” Mary said.
“Anyway, I called once and it rang once and then went to voicemail. Called again a few minutes later and it went straight to voicemail. That was the clincher. He hadn’t seemed keen to talk to me before I left, and I suppose he doesn’t want to talk now. So I wrote him a letter and I’m mailing back the ring and…that will be that.” Molly bit her lip and turned to look into the suite.
“And you’ll see what happens with Sherlock?”
“I suppose,” she said. “For all I know, now that I’m single he won’t want me anymore.”
Mary grinned at that before bringing her glass to her lips, a sparkle in her eye. “Molly, love, believe me when I say I think we might end up having to get two rooms if we stay anywhere…and I’ll be in a bed all to myself.” She took a drink and then got up, heading inside the suite, leaving Molly alone as the sky started to darken. She had taken the first step to ending her relationship with Tom, even if he didn’t realize it yet. And she supposed that meant she was available to Sherlock. But should she jump into something? She stood and looked into the suite, searching him out, studying him as he paced inside, arguing with his brother.
Maybe she shouldn’t.
But she was going to anyway.