"Hey, Jared?" I asked, looking up from the SHIELD manual I was reading.

I wanted to make sure what I was reading was crystal clear. I'd read the paragraph about ten times now and still couldn't believe my eyes on what I was reading. We'd gotten home a few hours ago and, being the good little nerd I was, settled in to read the mountain of books supplied to me. Things like the SHIELD Code of Conduct could be left for a time while flying on autopilot. I wanted to know more about Operations, so I grabbed the first book about that. Only halfway through it, I wasn't sure if I would cope with all of this. There was some heavy shit in there, and what I had just read took the cake.

Jared was sitting on the couch, beer in hand, watching a DVD. He looked up as I walked from my bedroom into the lounge room.

"So I'm reading this weird thing about working with partners." My frown deepened, skimming over the offending paragraph again. "And there's something written here about if your partner goes rogue, then you're sent to eliminate the threat. Am I understanding that right? That SHIELD sends you in to scrub your partner out if they go nuts?"

"Yep." Jared's nonchalant shrug made both of my eyebrows climb up into my hairline. "Standard protocol."

"Wow, that's cold." I couldn't believe how chill Jared was about this. "Didn't you have a partner at one stage? Peter? Paul? Started with P anyway. I think I met him once."

"Phillip," Jared corrected me. "Yes, I did, and you did meet him once. I work better alone. It makes it easier when I can teleport. Another person working with me is just dead weight."

"Oh." I stood there feeling even more unsure of myself now. The brief feeling of bliss at being able to handle a Quinjet without any hassles had now flittered away, getting halfway through my SHIELD manual for Operations.

"Don't read into it too much, Kari," Jared said, giving me a reassuring smile. "Chances are if you have a partner and they go rogue, they'll try and kill you as well, so it makes it easier. Besides, you'll have a team rather than a partner. So a lot of that stuff isn't going to apply to you."

"I can't get it all straight in my head." I huffed out a sigh of annoyance. I walked over to the couch and flopped down on it next to Jared, throwing the heavy book on the coffee table. "Why are there so many different operational fields? Why can't SHIELD be easy and just have two categories? You have the people who kill people and people who sort out the paperwork for the people who kill people? I don't even know what your real job title is."

"Specialist." Jared reached over and paused the DVD. The serious look on his face meant he was going to be helpful for once. "It's a grown-up term for a super spy. So, don't worry about specific terms. SHIELD comes up with new jobs and words every different week. You'll go nuts trying to learn every single job out there. Break it down into four divisions. You've got Operations, which is your tactical and arms security units. They're the muscles that handle everything on the front line. That's who you'll get to play with. Then you've got Science and Technology, which is where all the nerds work. You should have worked there with your smart brain. Dad would have loved that."

I pulled a disgusted face at Jared's remark. Dad had made that exact comment many times. I'd go nuts working in a lab all day. He kept talking, so I couldn't interrupt him.

"Communications are the scary computer hackers who you never let near anything you have electronic because they'll either screw it up or make it so they can spy on you. Those are the people who hack the Pentagon in their lunch break for a bit of fun at work. Then you have Administration. That's Mom's side of things, along with all the usual fields that you need to run a big company like accounting, HR, PR and all that stuff."

I had to give it to Jared. That was helpful for once in his life.

"I hate being a newbie all over again." I sighed heavily, flopping on the couch. My brain was beginning to feel like mush. "I'm grateful I know what SHIELD is and what they do, but all this stuff I've been given makes me feel like I'm cramming for an exam I know I'm never going to pass. Like that semester of music, I had to take, and it was the only class I'd ever come close to failing."

"They are trying to cram two years of work into your head in a month," Jared said. He reached over over and gave my leg a small squeeze. "I can remember this shit because I went to the Academy, and I did have to remember it for exams. You only have to know the bare bones of it so you can be thrown in the field ASAP. From what I remember, you got an A- for music. So stop stressing over that shit and have a beer with me. I'm watching Mean Girls because my brain needs to switch off."

Jared kicked the manual off the coffee table. It landed with a heavy thump on the floor. I wouldn't admit it, but there was a lot of satisfaction in seeing the heavy book land on the floor. I'd seen Mean Girls before, but it didn't stop me from doing as Jared requested. I got up, grabbed a beer, and sat back down on the couch. Jared hit play, and the movie started again. It was enough to make me forget about my worries for a while.

"How did you get along with Lucky Charms?" Jared asked me halfway through the movie.

"That's so unoriginal." I didn't bother to drag my eyes from the TV. "He was funny, let me fly to Texas and back so he could have a nap. He said I can fly without needing too much supervision."

"I should fucking hope so. The Air Force let you fly a 350 million dollar jet," Jared said with an amused snort. "SHIELD's 100 million dollar jet shouldn't be an issue. That'll be fun for the next month, flying around, not doing anything."

"Can you fly a Quinjet?" I asked, thinking back to the conversation with Ian about how SHIELD had designed them to be idiot-proof in case of emergency. In the worst-case scenario, the Quinjet could be flown remotely, or so I'd found out while reading one of my other books. Even I was impressed at how easy it was to fly. It still didn't make it any less fun.

"Hell fucking no." Jared shook his head rapidly. His quick dismissal of my question made me smile. Jared had a fear of flying. It hadn't diminished over the years. "The last time I went in one was because I had to get my parachute qualification. That was bad enough, let alone sitting in one and learning to fly it. I'll keep my feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much."

I laughed at Jared. I had completely forgotten about his fear of flying. Having the ability to teleport anywhere he needed made any kind of normal mode of transport redundant for him. I didn't blame him, though. I hated flying when someone else was the pilot. I knew what could go wrong and how quickly it does go wrong. I wasn't scared of flying. I had trust issues with other people doing the flying for me.

"I'll start with some of the other stuff tomorrow as well," I said, enjoying the light conversation with Jared. I'd gotten the email on the way home outlining my schedule for the next two weeks. "I'm doing a hand-to and combat class straight after PT. Hill wants me to sit in on some of the mission briefs to learn what goes on. The bottom of the email had something about doing some other training if they can fit it in. Some of it sounds like SERE training all over again."

"Yep, where we don't have to play by the rules of interrogation and torture." Jared looked over at me with a feral grin. "If you get the class where they ask for a volunteer to get waterboarded, be the volunteer. Otherwise, you cop the full brunt of a proper one instead of half a bottle of water splashed on your face."

"That is completely terrifying, but thanks for the tip," I laughed despite the seriousness of his words.

Odd didn't even begin to describe this situation. Sitting here on a Tuesday afternoon, drinking beer while watching Mean Girls, discussing the weird shit that goes on behind closed doors in SHIELD. The things I was reading were all in a manual for basic recruits. It made me wonder what I'd know and learn about when I got the proper security clearance.

"Yeah, well, wait until the day you ask me how to get blood off your clothes," Jared laughed with me. "I have a different trick for every fabric out there. It's a delicate but necessary subject. You seriously can't soak an Armani suit in coke. It just ruins it."

I had taken a drink of beer when Jared started to talk. In his last sentence, he made me laugh so hard that the beer shot out of my nose. I quickly held my sleeve up to my face to stop the offending liquid from spraying everywhere. My reaction just made Jared laugh even harder. Neither of us could stop.

"This is so fucking crazy," I said when I got the breath to speak again. "I don't know what I've gotten myself into."

"Nothing that you can't handle," Jared reassured me, handing me a napkin. "Trust me on that one."

I wish I had the same confidence in myself as Jared did in me. But his words were comforting. If my twin believed I could get through this, then maybe I just might.

"I'll pay for dinner tonight. Wanna go out somewhere?" I changed the subject. Jared's face lit up at the mention of eating out.

"I know the perfect place. Let me make some reservations for us. You'll love HeeBeen."

PT was easy in the morning. Even though every muscle screamed at me for the torture, Rumlow put me through yesterday. The hour-long soak in an Epsom salt bath after dinner hadn't helped that much. But mentally, it was a lot better walking into the Triskelion knowing what to expect, at least for my first hour. I ended up jogging next to Riley again, who was silent except for the lift up onto the chin-up bar. Rumlow didn't make me do 100 chin-ups, but he did make me change from chin-ups to pull-ups halfway through. My arm muscles were not happy with him at all. I swore at him under my breath in Russian the entire time I was doing pull-ups. I was going to have some epic biceps by the time Rumlow was done with me.

When PT was finished, I started to head back inside. It was only when I got to the door I realised I had no idea where the gym was. It was a different numbered gym to the one where I'd had a shower yesterday. I stood at the edge of the field and bit my lip in uncertainty. I'm sure there were signs somewhere. I wasn't confident of my ability to not get lost and then be very late for the class. I didn't want to have to text Jared for every tiny thing.

"Lost already?" Riley spoke up from behind me.

I turned around, grateful for a familiar face. Even if he didn't speak to me beyond saying hello earlier, either he was shy, or I'd already made a fool of myself. I had bets on it being the latter rather than the former.

"I have no idea where gym 2B is," I said lightly, trying to cover my embarrassment. "And I have to be there in 10 minutes for a hand-to-hand combat class. Which I'm going to suck at, so this morning is going to be terrible."

I was babbling. I felt like an idiot as Riley stood there listening to me talk far too fast to be considered normal. Thankfully, Riley didn't say anything about it being weird. He smiled at me instead.

He had a gorgeous smile.

"I'll walk you there if you'd like?" Riley asked. "I'm in no hurry to sit at a desk all day."

"Thank you," I said in a rush, feeling relieved and nervous for another reason. I was meant to be staying away from STRIKE guys, but Jared said Riley was different. I was hoping to find out why. Itwas sweet of him to help me out. We both walked off, and I broke the silence quickly.

"What happened to your arm?"

I had enjoyed watching him do his chin-ups this morning, with both arms this time. He was wearing a much tighter shirt and showed off his very nice biceps.

"I got shot through my bicep," Riley explained with a shrug, It made it sound like it wasn't an uncommon occurrence around here. "It was a stupid injury, and it's taking ages to heal up."

"Ouch," I said sympathetically. I'd never been shot, but I remembered when Jared had a bullet graze once. He whined about it for months afterwards. "How did that happen?"

"I put my arm up to fire at someone, didn't see the enemy on my side, and he got me through the arm," Riley said, absently rubbing his left arm. "So yeah, no big exciting story behind it. Sorry to disappoint."

I secretly enjoyed the view once again as his arm muscles flexed under his tight shirt.

"I've never been shot, so you've got one up on me."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to smack myself in the head. I sounded like such an idiot sometimes. Sometimes, being a smooth talker like Jared would come in handy.

"I'd hope not." Riley's smile eased my discomfort. "After all, weren't you a Raptor pilot?"

"That was me." I smiled back, ignoring the pang of sadness that came with thinking of my old life. I had to stop letting myself do that. Wallowing in my pity party wasn't going to help me. "Not exactly a skill set I needed, learning to dodge bullets."

Riley chuckled but said nothing further. I hadn't paid any attention to where I was walking. I was too busy watching Riley out of the corner of my eye. He'd shaved today, but his hair was still messy. He smelt really good despite being sweaty from PT. There was a very light lingering smell of some expensive cologne. The gym wasn't that far away, still on the ground level, which made sense. The size of this place was going to be the bane of my existence for the next year.

"This is you," Riley said, stopping at the double doors in front of us."Have fun"

"I'll try," I grimaced, bracing myself for the inevitable of what was going to be a killer session. I was already sore, and this wasn't going to help in the slightest with my aching muscles. I turned and put my hand on the door to open it.

"Hey, Kari?"

Riley's voice made me stop. I glanced back at him.

"If you need a hand with anything, just let me know, I'm bored out of my mind at the moment and don't mind helping," Riley said in a huge rush.

By the look on his face, it didn't feel like I was the only one who couldn't keep their mouth shut. I felt a more genuine smile tug on my face.

"Thanks."

We stood there, looking at each other before I cleared my throat. I wanted a few more seconds with him. The little chat we had on the way here had made my day so far.

"I better get in there," I said reluctantly after a few more seconds.

"Yeah, sorry, see you at PT tomorrow," Riley spoke just as quickly as before.

I gave him one last final smile before I opened the gym door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shy smile creep onto Riley's face as he turned away.

My day was completely made now. Anything could happen, and I'd still be happy.

As I opened the door, I braced myself for what was about to come. I wasn't the first to arrive, but at least I was on time. Most of the people seemed to know each other. Everyone was in small groups and chatting amongst themselves. All the people in the groups were wearing some kind of shirt from the Academy. They were all fresh rookies doing their final rounds before becoming full agents. Technically, I was no different from them. I hung on the edge of the crowd, feeling awkward and lost by myself. I wished Jared had walked me in. He might have known somebody to introduce me to. Anything was better than standing here feeling like a loner. It was a feeling I knew all too well. While I was never a complete outcast in high school and the Air Force, I never really had any close friends. I was always on the edge of the social groups. Nobody hated me except for a few bullies in high school, but I wasn't invited to all the parties and social gatherings either. I ended up taking Jared to my prom because I was too damn unsure of myself to contemplate asking anyone.

"All those doing the hand-to-hand combat, here now." A tall, dark-haired Agent walked in and headed straight for the mats already put down.

I followed the group, most of the people were glancing at each other, looking nervous. I'm glad I wasn't the only one looking unsure now. The group huddled around the edges, waiting for further instruction.

"I'm Agent Rollins," the agent spoke, folding his arms over his chest. He looked like a typical STRIKE guy, with big muscles and a short haircut. "I'll be your instructor over the next few months. First things first, I don't like complainers. If you're going to complain and not do as you're told, the door is over there."

Rollins uncrossed his arms and pointed towards the door.

"Two, except for one special case, the rest of you are doing your last semester at the Academy. I will be sending regular reports back. Piss me off or slack off in class, and you'll find yourself behind a desk and not in the field. Which one of you is Lyngley?"

I tentatively raised my hand. It was hard not to shrink under the glare Rollins sent in my direction. My earlier thoughts were confirmed. This was not going to be fun at all.

"I don't like special cases." Rollin's glare made me want to disappear and never come back. All the people standing near me parted, leaving me standing there by myself. "Especially not ones that I have to pass regardless of what happens in this class. Just because you're a mutant and the twin sister of Fury's favourite pet spy doesn't give you special privileges. Am I clear?"

Ouch. That hurt my pride straight away. I didn't expect any special treatment, and this wasn't my choice. Right now, I'd be more than happy to be far, far away from him and this class. But here I was. Most people backed away from me even further when they heard that. Great, I was going to be treated like a leper. Jared being Fury's favourite was something new. At least he didn't bring my parents into it.

"Crystal clear, Sir." I hoped a little obedience and respect might be helpful.

Judging by the heated glare Rollins levelled at me, I doubted anything I did was going to help now. I squared my shoulders and gritted my teeth. It was only for a few weeks. I could deal with it for that long. Well, I hoped I could deal with it for that long.

"Pair off," Rollins commanded shortly. "Let's move people."

I looked around with growing dismay. Of course, there had to be an odd number of people, and I was left standing there by myself. I folded my arms across my chest, clearing my throat. Rollins looked at me with another hard glare.

"It looks like I have my volunteer for today."

Yep. Today was going to suck.

By the time I'd limped my way back to the locker room, I was running late for my flying session. Rollins seemed to enjoy making a complete idiot of me in front of everyone else. No matter what I did, I couldn't get anything right. Every move he showed me and I tried to replicate at him ended up in another bruise and more aching muscles. Any confidence I'd been feeling was shattered all over those damn mats in the gym. My entire body felt like one big bruise. Rollins hadn't shown a hint of mercy or tolerance for my inexperience. I had no idea what his problem was. I wasn't the only one who was inexperienced. He seemed to have infinitely more patience with the others than me. One of the other female recruits asked if I was all right when we had finished. I smiled and shook off her concern.

Tears of frustration welled up while I trudged back to the bathroom to get changed. I hated this This rollercoaster of emotions was dizzying. One minute, life didn't seem so bad here at SHIELD. The next, I wanted to go and find a deep, dark hole to crawl into and never come out. What's worse was I didn't have time for a shower. I sprayed myself down with deodorant and changed into my flying suit. I hoped Ian wouldn't mind too much. I don't think I could take any more yelling at today. I let myself have one sniffle of disappointment before wiping my face and leaving the locker room. I managed to make it to the hangar without getting lost. Ian was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for me, two cups of coffee in his hands.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," I apologised, as I ran down the stairs as fast as I could without tripping over my own feet. "I had a hand-to-hand combat class, and it ran late."

"It doesn't worry me. You get here when you get here." Ian's smile did nothing to make me feel any better. He handed me the coffee cup in his left hand. "Vanilla latte as requested, you look glum. What's wrong?"

"Glum." I forced myself to chuckle. I had to. Otherwise, there was a strong chance I might burst into tears in the middle of the hangar. "That sounds very British of you. I thought you were Irish."

I didn't want to speak about what happened in my class. It was better left there so I could focus on everything else for the day. I had learnt the hard way in Officer training that complaining would only label me as too weak to make it. I thought back to those few seconds of happiness before I went into the door. The thought of Riley's smile made me a little less shitty.

"Through and through." Ian wasn't buying my brush off. "You're a Yank through and through, so that's interesting for you to think that's British. You still didn't answer the question."

"I spent four months in the UK over summer holidays when I was 17," I stalled for a little bit longer. Ian's raised eyebrow and steady gaze made me sigh. I wasn't getting away with this, no matter how much I tried. "It's nothing serious. I didn't have a very good time in my class. Agent Rollins gave me an ass-kicking because I suck at hand to hand."

"Typical STRIKE boys," Ian scoffed, looking annoyed. "All brawn and no brains. I wouldn't worry about it, love. If he feels that he needs to hit a skinny girl to make himself feel manly, then he isn't worth your time worrying about. Do you need me to speak to someone about it?"

I shook my head. Ian's coming to my defence made me feel better already. I sipped my coffee and enjoyed the caffeine and sugar.

We'd arrived at the same Quinjet as yesterday. Ian motioned for me to get in, and I went straight to the pilot seat. Today, the preflight wasn't done, so I grabbed my clipboard and started to go through the checklist. I was silent while Ian chattered about nothing of concern until we got into the air again. I nodded and smiled in the right places. I was still feeling like shit, but Ian's constant chatter was helping soothe my nerves. By the time we got into the air, the knot in my chest had loosened. It was another crystal clear day. The Potomac glittered like a bed of sapphires below us. Up here, the world fell away and all of my problems with it.

"You know how I said yesterday that you can pick where we're going today?" Ian suddenly asked. I nodded in confirmation, sitting up a little straighter. "Yeah, that's not going to happen now."

My heart sank at hearing that. I was going to do a loop out over the Atlantic and enjoy a quiet flight. Ian could have a nap, and I could gather my thoughts again.

"Swing out over the ocean. We're going to drop to 500 feet, and you're going to see how fast you can go."

"Seriously?" I felt a genuine smile tugging on my lips.

"Yes, seriously." Ian waved his hand in the air in dismissal. "Off you go. When we come back, we'll go via Nevada, so you can drop a few bombs as well."

I stared at Ian, not sure if he was joking or not. He looked at me with both his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for me to argue.

"I am not sitting here watching you brood for the next three hours, so let's go fly really fast, then go blow some shit up. That should make you smile."

"Are we allowed to do that?" I asked.

It was a good thing I was going to head out over the Atlantic anyway.

"No, but why the fuck not?" Ian smiled brightly. His excited smile made my lips tug up a little more. "I retire in a month, what are they going to do? Fire me? Pfft, fuck it let's do something fun."

Despite my mood, I smiled back fully this time. My thoughts exactly, why the fuck not? If we weren't going to get into trouble for it, we may as well. Blowing stuff up always puts me in a good mood.

"You look too young to be retiring." I finally contributed to the conversation between us instead of just nodding and smiling.

"Love, I'm 65, more than old enough to be retiring," Ian said wryly. "After working in SHIELD nearly my entire life, I'm happy I made it to retiring age. It's a rarity in our line of work."

"Were you always a pilot?" I asked curiously. Beyond casual conversation, I didn't know a lot about Ian. It'd be good to get to know my instructor at least a little bit. We were going to be spending a lot of time together over the next month. I pushed aside his comment about retiring being a rarity in this line of work. After reading my manual last night, it wasn't a surprise to hear a comment like that casually flung around.

"No, I was STRIKE actually until my first child was born." Ian smiled, looking lost in memory. "Then I found it harder and harder to deal with missions, so I requested to be transferred. I already had some flight experience as a civilian, so becoming a pilot was an easy step. All the adrenaline rush with about a quarter of the risk. As time went on, I began to do some teaching along the way, and eventually, I was asked to take over the head instructor position about ten years ago and then switched to doing the final sign-offs for the pilots a few months ago when I decided to retire. You're my very last student. I have to admit I'm happy to get someone so easy."

"I hope I don't disappoint you then."

My lack of confidence from this morning was still gnawing at me.

Glancing out the window, we were clear over the ocean now. I pushed the jet downwards and felt the thrill of the acceleration the closer to the surface we went.

"Trust me. You're not going to be a disappointment. Let it rip," Ian said, casually lounging back in his chair. "Don't hold back. It's good fun. See if you can push Mach 2."

"We aren't wearing anti-g-suits." I pointed out while carefully applying more throttle. I kept my eye on the controls, not sure if I was ready to trust myself at this speed so low in a jet with controls I only had a basic grasp of. Ian was right, though, it was a lot of fun despite my reservations about it. The speed was steadily climbing with very little input from me.

"Inertia negation," Ian said. "Ever heard of it?"

"Yeah, in Star Trek," I snorted in disbelief. "Though it was incorrectly referred to as inertia damper. It's a theory."

"Yeah, not so much," Ian informed me smugly. "SHIELD found a way to apply it to its aircraft. So we can hit Mach 2 while doing a J turn and feel like we're on a passenger jet. Come on, more stick there, girl. Go faster."

I eyed the airspeed indicator warily, but did I was instructed. I was sitting just at 600mph, and without much input from me, we climbed easily to 700mph.

"Mach 1, let's go," Ian pushed.

I couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. He was unlike any flight instructor I had ever known. Most of them wanted you to fly sensibly, not push the aircraft to its limits just for the sake of it. Then again, this was SHIELD. An entire organisation that was about pushing the limits in everything they did.

"Show me some fancy fighter pilot shit." Ian challenged me. "Come on, you didn't get to fly Raptors straight from flight school because we were average. My guess is you can bust some slick moves."

Ian's challenge made me grin. I yanked back on the stick as hard as I could and put a lot of rudder input in the pedals. The Quinjet effortlessly climbed and rolled at the same time, putting us in an over-the-top high-g barrel roll.

It had been a movement I'd worked on in my last ever flight in a Raptor. I'd been very happy that day because I'd pulled it off without a hitch. Even some of the more seasonal pilots were impressed by it. I had been impressed I had been able to do it without blacking out or losing control. It puts a hell of a lot of strain on your body. But with the technology in the Quinjet, it felt like I'd done a lazy barrel roll in the sunshine. When I pulled out of the manoeuvre, even I was smiling widely. Ian was laughing openly. He reached over and clapped me on the back.

"Nice work. See? That brought a smile to your face," Ian said, grinning broadly. "Now, go faster and then we'll go blow some shit up."

"I can't argue with that," I said, laughing. The shitty hand-to-hand class was long forgotten now.

I pushed the Quinjet back down to a low altitude and hit the throttle harder than before. Watching the airspeed indicator, we hit Mach 1.4 and went Supersonic. It was only then I felt the real power sitting below me. How SHIELD ever managed to keep this kind of technology out of the military's hands was incredible. This was like nothing I had ever seen before. I always thought the Raptors would never be topped in terms of handling, speed and manoeuvrability. I was wrong. The day's troubles melted away from me the higher the airspeed indicator climbed.

"Will I get in trouble tomorrow if I attempt to do a vertical take-off like you can in a Raptor?" I asked Ian.

I made a high-speed turn, tipping us to the side before rightening back up. I loved the handling of the Quinjet. It was a dream come true.

"Only if you do a sonic boom and break all the windows in the Triskelion," Ian said, grinning again. "Actually, please do something like that tomorrow. There's a group of Quinjets heading out at stupid o'clock tomorrow morning to log flight hours. If you can handle being at work by 0230, then that will get some night flying out of the way. I'll bring coffee again, and we can take turns in having a nap. If we're lucky, we might pick up some agents who need a parachute drop, and you can scare the shit out of them. We can take bets on how many will puke by the end of it."

Either Ian really didn't give a shit any more, or he was the pilot everyone dreaded when they saw him in the cockpit. He was the person I needed right now.

"That sounds like a lot of fun," I said truthfully. "I'm guessing you don't care if we aren't cleared for that either?"

"Nope, don't give a flying fuck," Ian smirked. "Besides, it'll be fun. You can fly circles around most of the Quinjet pilots. SHIELD has a jet similar to the F-35 in development that they'll use off the Helicarrier. I'd love to be around to see you fly something like that when they finally become operational."

"Right." I tried not to let my confusion show one small thing. I couldn't hold the question back any longer than a few seconds. "What the hell is a Helicarrier?"

Ian took one look at my confusion and burst out laughing.

"All right, love, let's get back up to a cruising altitude and back off a little bit. Stick her on autopilot, and we can go over all of SHIELD's aircraft technology on the trip to Nevada."

I did as I was told and turned to Ian, feeling like an eager student all over again. Today was turning out far better than I had ever dreamed of.

Authors Note

Edited January 1st, 2025