Isha

I strutted into an emptied-out warehouse at the docks in a sleek white suit. Under a flickering fluorescent light, a familiar figure waited for me.

"Quite the predicament you've placed us in, Wilson," I said evenly. "At some point, you'll have to find a more permanent solution for our vigilante problem. I will never understand your kind's obsession with tights."

I was furious, but I hid it well. Remaining unreadable was an asset in all areas of business, whether you were dealing with Demons or humans.

"'For once, this is not on my kind," Fisk rumbled, handing me photographs of a masked man zipping around a large room with red and blue streaks accompanying him. "I thought you said you controlled the demons in New York?"

"I do," I said, without ever looking up. I recognized him immediately. Dante. The second son of Sparda. Father would be over the moon if he knew I found him.

Last I heard, he was an untrained Wastrel, whoring his likely infinite life away. A lot could change in a month.

"Maybe you're not nearly as powerful as I thought," Fisk said in his slow, unhurried voice. "Do you know what your pride has cost us, Isha?"

Wilson's rage bled through his words. Like me, he had a masterful Poker face.

To answer Wilson's question, Sparda's son just cost us months of work and a ridiculous amount of money.

We would have to purchase Hell's Kitchen's properties at a considerable markup and further delay Father's goals for the New York Sanctum.

I narrowed my eyes at Wilson. I could understand his anger, but I could not abide the insult from a lesser.

"I'll deal with the matter personally," I said, walking up to the blubbery giant, "and pay the difference in cost, but my dear Wilson, if you ever raise your voice to me again, it will be the last thing you do."

My eyes flashed bright crimson as I summoned one of my two Devil Arms—talons of white gold and fire. The temperature in the room skyrocketed, and I held Wilson's gaze, delighting as he stepped back in awe and fear.

His tie caught fire, and he hurriedly removed it and tossed it, fixing me with a startled glare. The sight would've been perfect if he were on his knees.

"Don't forget yourself, Wilson," I said as I turned around and vanished into the night.

—

"Remind me why I need to learn this again?" I asked Natasha as I flipped through a thick book on programming. Don't get me wrong, I loved computers as much as the next guy, but understanding and working on the back end was not just well…my thing. I was more of a punchy punch guy, as you've probably seen.

"You don't have much of a choice," Clint said. "You gotta know your way around all sorts of security systems and computers if you want to be an Agent."

"Contractor," I insisted. "The deal I was discussing with Fury before he ran off was that I was supposed to be his shotgun, not tech support."

"Do you think we get to call in Tech support when we're stuck in the field with no way out?" Natasha asked. "You won't be much use to Fury if you can't hack your way past a door or spoof a basic security camera feed. You may be strong, but you can't cleave your way out of everything with your axe."

"Wanna bet?" I smirked, and Natasha walked over to me, leaning in.

"Why didn't you cut your way through the X-Men that night you ran into them at the warehouse?"

I raised a brow. She knew about that. Of course, she did. She was Natasha Romanoff.

"Or why did you run when SHIELD came after you that night after you fled LA?" she said. "You talk tough, but I know it's all an act. You're smarter than you look. Otherwise, you wouldn't have lasted this long."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The corners of my lips twisted in amusement. Game recognized game.

"So, when we tell you this is important, you listen," she finished, and Clint whistled.

I raised my hands in mock surrender.

"Fine, fine. I'll learn how to code, but only if you teach me how to lie and profile like the best of them."

Natasha looked surprised, and Clint laughed. "You're something else, kid. I can't believe you tried to sucker Natasha."

I leaned back in my seat with a self-satisfied smirk, and Natasha sat down on the table where I'd dumped my textbook.

"If that's what you want, it's fine. Though, it's a shame it will be a waste of both of our time," she shrugged. "Humans are ten times more complicated than any computer. I mean, if you're struggling with basic computer science…" She trailed off. "Are you sure you don't want to learn about guns or surveillance? That seems more your speed."

I laughed internally. Did she think that would work on me?

"Where did all that enthusiasm for me to learn how to code go?" I chuckled.

"We all have our strengths," Natasha shrugged.

"How about we have a little wager," I smirked. "If I can bypass the security system by the door in three months, you must teach me everything you know. Lock picking, interrogation, negotiation, stealth, and information gathering– the nine yards. You have to make me a super spy."

Natasha's brow hiked up her beautiful face as she grappled with what she was hearing. "You do realize that we have one of the most advanced security systems in the world? No one can start from scratch and pick up coding that fast."

"Then, there's no reason why you should not agree," I said with a shrug.

"What do I get if I win?" Natasha said, folding her hands after giving it some thought.

My eyes flashed red, and I smirked, wiping the confident look off Natasha's face. I leaned in close, whispering low enough that Clint couldn't hear us. "Your sister."

Natasha's face immediately went white.

—

Fury walked into the apartment, interrupting the game of cards I was playing with Clint. I was taking a short break after working my way through a quarter of the first book Natasha provided. She'd stepped out after my jaw-dropping revelation and hadn't been back.

We were playing Poker, and the Archer was cleaning me out. It seemed I'd finally run into something I was not immediately good at.

Lucky for me, I had the foresight to not bet with actual money. We were using fake chips.

When he saw us playing, Fury nearly blew a gasket.

"Let me get this straight. While I'm out there trying to see if we're about to be overrun by Nazi squids, you're playing Poker!"

"Clint said it'd help me bluff better," I said, pointing at the Archer, whose eyes bulged at the betrayal.

"You asked for the lesson!"

"Because I'm so clearly terrible at lying," I said, turning to Fury. "The bit about Alexander Pierce was true, wasn't it?"

"Son of a…" Fury trailed off, massaging his brow. "He switched out the transport team that was supposed to be escorting a vehicle I suggested you might've been in. I tailed them from afar. It never made it to the SHIELD site before it was ransacked. I got a call from Pierce afterward, asking where you were."

"The commander? Hydra, really?" Clint asked, his voice tainted with more sadness than disbelief.

"Wasn't excited about it either," Fury said, "but the kid was right. Again."

I smirked but didn't let the flattery distract me.

"Where did you tell Pierce I was?"

"Tucked away in a safe house where we were trying to get you to join SHIELD."

The truth. "While we're on the topic of 'joining' SHIELD. We still need to finalize our terms. All I want is to provide you with intel and muscle for special cases in exchange for wiping my slate clean and setting me up with a pad, state-of-the-art equipment, and, of course, cheddar. Seems pretty fair to me."

"And I told you there's only so much I can authorize for an external contractor," Fury said. "I can't give you all that and protect you from Hydra."

"So, what you're saying is that there's a price too great for saving the world?"

"No, I'm saying you're an unknown Dante. Unknowns make me and the council nervous. Knowing those old coots, they'll probably feel safer having you locked up somewhere you can't cause trouble, but after today's invasion, I know that'll probably come back to bite us in the ass sooner rather than later. If you join SHIELD–"

"No," I said immediately. It was a knee-jerk reaction, but Fury pressed on with an irritated look.

"If you joined SHIELD, I can justify all those expenses and keep you insulated from Pierce. With the right team build, you can produce results and shut down all protestors."

It was a half-truth. I saw the flaw in his reasoning, and if he was the man I knew he was, so did he.

I was part demon. All it took was one slip-up from the other half-demons on the planet, and I was in the dog house. Hell, my position would be shaky if any superpowered person stepped out of line, which was guaranteed to happen since this was the Marvel Universe.

Besides, I already had somebody puppeting me. I refuse to have another.

"I want to help you, Fury," I said, standing up. "But I won't live under your thumb. I'd rather see it all BURN down. You want my help with Hydra, Quellitrax, and the dozen other threats coming. I remain a contractor for SHIELD, at least unofficially. You can forge my registration papers and do what you must to make it look legitimate, but these are my terms, and I'm not budging."

Fury frowned. "Why go through the trouble of faking it if you're going to be SHIELD in every way that matters."

"Because I know how all of this ends," I said. "They're going to ask for me, and on that day, you'll remember I was not yours to hand over to begin with."

Silence.

"I'll draw up the fake paperwork," Fury said. "Welcome to SHIELD."