Hill caught the flicker of amusement on his face and shook her head, exhaling sharply through her nose.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, turning back toward the exit doors.
Alex fell into step beside her, hands sliding casually into his coat pockets. "You'll get used to it," he said smoothly.
"I won't," Hill shot back without hesitation, though her voice carried just a trace of dry humor now. "And if you try pulling any of your… lines while we're on assignment, I'll put two rounds in your leg and claim it was crossfire."
Alex chuckled, low and unbothered. "Wouldn't be the first time I got shot for flirting."
That actually earned him the faintest upward twitch of her lips, though she quickly masked it by glancing at her tablet again. "You're impossible."
"Not impossible," Alex corrected with that same infuriating calm. "Just… persistent."
Hill ignored him after that, leading the way toward the waiting car outside. Rain had started to fall, tapping softly against the glass doors despite the clear sky from earlier. The storm that Alex had felt brewing was closer now.
As the two of them stepped out into the night, Alex tilted his head back slightly, crimson eyes glinting against the city lights.
"So, you're my partner in this next assignment?" he asked.
Hill shook her head. "No. Not me. Someone else. I'll drop you at the hotel, and from there you'll get a secure line with details. You'll meet your partner tomorrow—someone who'll brief you and lead on this task."
Alex nodded, sliding into the car with a small, crooked smile. "Mysterious. I like it."
Hill gave him a sidelong glance as she settled in beside him. "Don't get too comfortable. This one's not a field test—it's the real thing. Your new partner doesn't bend. At all."
That made Alex's smirk deepen. "Sounds fun already."
The drive was quiet, rain streaking across the windows as the city lights blurred into lines of gold and red. Hill busied herself with the tablet in her lap, skimming through encrypted messages, while Alex leaned back in his seat, his mind already running through possibilities. Mutant? A rogue asset? Or maybe something darker, closer to his own shadowed world.
When the car finally stopped in front of a sleek, glass-paneled hotel, Hill spoke without looking up. "Check in under the alias we set up. Your room is secure. Wait for the contact in the morning—don't wander."
Alex pushed the door open, stepping out into the cool night drizzle. He glanced back at her, one brow arched. "You sound like you don't trust me."
"I don't," Hill replied flatly, finally meeting his eyes. "And for the record, if you screw this up, your partner won't hesitate to put you down."
Alex grinned, showing teeth this time. "Good. Wouldn't want it any other way."
He turned and walked into the hotel lobby, boots echoing against polished marble, leaving Hill staring after him for a long, unreadable moment before the car pulled away.
Inside, the air was warm, quiet. Alex checked in smoothly under the alias, collected his keycard, and made his way up to the suite. Dropping his coat on the chair, he poured himself a drink from the minibar and settled by the window.
The rain had turned heavier, drumming on the glass. He swirled the glass in his hand, crimson eyes narrowed, a hunter's patience settling over him.
"Tomorrow," he muttered, sipping once. "Let's see who they've chained me to."
The next morning, Alex Morrow woke groggy but sharp, steam curling off his skin as he stepped out of the shower. A towel hung loose around his waist, his crimson eyes catching faintly in the fogged mirror before he pushed the bathroom door open.
He froze. Someone was already inside his apartment.
A brunette stood by the door, calm as if she belonged there. Sharp-eyed. Confident.
"Alex Morrow," she said evenly, voice carrying quiet authority.
He raised a brow, unbothered. "That's me."
"Get dressed." Sharon Carter strode in like she owned the place, dropping a slim folder on the coffee table before claiming the couch.
Alex smirked as he tugged on a shirt, towel sliding away. "So… SHIELD's sending me a new babysitter?"
She crossed one leg over the other, gaze steady on him. "Depends. Are you going to play along, or am I going to have to get creative keeping you in line?"
He chuckled low in his throat. "Creative, huh? Do you want me to impress you?"
Her lips quirked, but her eyes stayed cool. "I'm not Natasha," she said flatly, as though cutting him off before he got any ideas.
Alex fastened his belt, grin tugging at his mouth. "No, you're not. But I'll be honest—" his crimson gaze lingered on her, unhurried, "—you might just be even more beautiful."
For a long moment, she studied him, unreadable. Then the faintest smirk broke through. "Flattery. Typical. You'd love it if I played into that."
"Depends," Alex murmured, slipping on his jacket and stepping closer. "You might be surprised what I love."
Sharon stood, folder in hand, brushing past him without missing a beat. "We'll see. Briefing in twenty. Don't be late."
He watched her leave, a sly smile curling his lips.
Alex Morrow lingered a moment in the quiet after Sharon left, his smirk slowly fading into something sharper—more calculating. He slipped the rest of his clothes on, tightening his watch strap and brushing his hair back.
The folder she'd dropped was still sitting there on the table, neat and deliberate, like bait. He sat down on the couch, flipping it open with one hand while tugging on his boots with the other.
Inside the folder were dossiers—targets, assets, and connections laid out in detail. SHIELD's organization was clear, everything prepared for him to study.
The knock at the door came sharp, two quick taps. No hesitation. Sharon again.
"Time's up," she said through the wood.
Alex closed the folder, set it aside, and pulled on the last of his clothes. By the time he opened the door, the usual confident smile was back on his face. Sharon stood there in a black blazer, professional and composed, though her eyes lingered on him just long enough to take his measure.
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