(no subject)
Agent Darkholme stood at full attention before Director Shaw's desk. Behind him, a wide picture window presented a gorgeous view of Genosha. The S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier was currently stationed a few hundred feet from Lord Magneto's palace. After twenty years, the Genoshan capitol still took her breath away. It was the second most beautiful city on Earth.
"Normally, I like to pin these onto people myself. Under the circumstances..." Shaw shrugged and pushed a small velvet box across his desk.
She stared at it, unblinking.
"James shouldn't let your personal affairs interfere with promotions. You deserve this, Raven. You earned it."
She opened the box. Inside lay a gold pip set with a polished sapphire, identical to the one already in her collar. Raven never expected to see a second. She'd long ago accepted the consequences of nepotism, abandoning her own advancement for the inclusion of her children in the Red Guard.
She unfastened the back pin and gently lined the second pip up beside the one on her collar. The flesh of her neck swam around it, locking the pip in place. In lieu of a uniform, she had dispensation to shift her skin to conform with Red Guard regulations. Her rank pips were literally the only things she actually wore, and she wore them with pride.
"They look good on you," said Shaw.
"Thank you, Director." She kept her face neutral.
Shaw lifted a bottle of Bourbon and two glasses out of a desk drawer. "Sit down, Raven." He poured for them both and offered her a glass. "You've been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for two decades. Can you see yourself here in another two more?"
Raven blinked in surprise. "Of course." She'd never been happier in her life. Upholding the law, working with her children on a daily basis, coming home to someone her own age who understood her ongoing wonder at the changes over the last century. Some days it felt like she was living in a dream.
"Good." Shaw nodded approval. "Because I can see you behind this desk someday." He stared pointedly at the Lord Magneto's palace beneath them. "And I'm not the only one."
"James..." she began.
"Is an excellent field commander. Can you picture him behind a desk?" Shaw raised an eyebrow.
"No," she admitted softly.
Shaw laughed. "Don't worry. I'll die in the line of duty, and that assignment isn't penciled into my schedule yet. If you work hard enough, you can still screw yourself out of this job." He smiled over the top of his drink.
"I'd rather not, Sebastian." She smiled back. This could be good for her. Kurt and Anna-Marie were adults now. It was time to put her energies back into her own career instead of into theirs.
"Good to hear." He clinked his glass against hers. "To the future, Agent Darkholme."
"Normally, I like to pin these onto people myself. Under the circumstances..." Shaw shrugged and pushed a small velvet box across his desk.
She stared at it, unblinking.
"James shouldn't let your personal affairs interfere with promotions. You deserve this, Raven. You earned it."
She opened the box. Inside lay a gold pip set with a polished sapphire, identical to the one already in her collar. Raven never expected to see a second. She'd long ago accepted the consequences of nepotism, abandoning her own advancement for the inclusion of her children in the Red Guard.
She unfastened the back pin and gently lined the second pip up beside the one on her collar. The flesh of her neck swam around it, locking the pip in place. In lieu of a uniform, she had dispensation to shift her skin to conform with Red Guard regulations. Her rank pips were literally the only things she actually wore, and she wore them with pride.
"They look good on you," said Shaw.
"Thank you, Director." She kept her face neutral.
Shaw lifted a bottle of Bourbon and two glasses out of a desk drawer. "Sit down, Raven." He poured for them both and offered her a glass. "You've been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for two decades. Can you see yourself here in another two more?"
Raven blinked in surprise. "Of course." She'd never been happier in her life. Upholding the law, working with her children on a daily basis, coming home to someone her own age who understood her ongoing wonder at the changes over the last century. Some days it felt like she was living in a dream.
"Good." Shaw nodded approval. "Because I can see you behind this desk someday." He stared pointedly at the Lord Magneto's palace beneath them. "And I'm not the only one."
"James..." she began.
"Is an excellent field commander. Can you picture him behind a desk?" Shaw raised an eyebrow.
"No," she admitted softly.
Shaw laughed. "Don't worry. I'll die in the line of duty, and that assignment isn't penciled into my schedule yet. If you work hard enough, you can still screw yourself out of this job." He smiled over the top of his drink.
"I'd rather not, Sebastian." She smiled back. This could be good for her. Kurt and Anna-Marie were adults now. It was time to put her energies back into her own career instead of into theirs.
"Good to hear." He clinked his glass against hers. "To the future, Agent Darkholme."