14.

I'm back! Armed with a new laptop, I'm finally going to get this story finished...

Nikita leaned over the edge of the roof to see what was going on, and immediately regretted it. Even from this dizzying height, she could see that the streets were swarming with the grey aliens, and clogged by abandoned cars and people trying to escape. Here and there she could see a flash of blue and red as Steve fought his way through throngs of enemies. Clint, cool and collected as always, was helping a group of terrified people escape from an overturned bus. Tony was flying around in his red metal suit like a demented bird, and Bruce...well, he was hard to miss. Nikita watched, slack-jawed, as he single-handedly took down several of the huge whale-like aliens. But enough gawping. Back to the problem at hand. How to disable the Tesseract. A team of the most intelligent people in the world, over the space of several years, couldn't figure it out. Nikita was supposed to do it, alone, before an alien (or Loki) picked her off, or the world was doomed. No pressure there, then.

Sherlock's plane wobbled dangerously, and he fought to keep it from going into a nose dive. Keeping these stupid things straight is harder than I expected, he thought in irritation. He knew what was going to happen. They were going to nuke New York. It did seem to be the logical choice - the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Destroy the invading force - and Loki - and lose New York in the process, or lose possibly the whole world. But that would involve losing Nikita, and this very interesting team. The Avengers. Sherlock already had a long list of uses for them. And, of course, nuking New York would have side effects. Many, many side effects.

His plan probably wasn't going to work. It wasn't even a plan. He just hoped that everyone behaved as he predicted they would.

'I've never been wrong before.' he said aloud. Always a first time, whispered an ominous voice inside his head. That will be John Watson, he thought wearily. Always getting into my head.

The other pilot dropped down a few hundred feet. Sherlock copied him, and noticed that his hand was shaking. Blood loss, I suppose. He glanced down at the borrowed shirt he had hastily donned over his bandages. It was stained red with blood. The dull pain and ache in his side was getting worse, and he had a blinding headache. He just needed to stay conscious for a little while longer. They would be there within ten minutes now. If he was lucky, he would pass out between eighteen and twenty minutes. That was enough time. Hopefully Nikita would play her part and save his life.

Even if she didn't know what it was she was supposed to do.

'Releasing the payload in ten...nine...'

Sherlock breathed in sharply. Time to make the call.

A groan drew Nikita's attention. She turned to see Erik Selvig stirring. Oh no. She tentatively picked up her wrench again. He raised himself on his elbow, and dazedly turned to look at her. The icy blue in his eyes was gone, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Erik's eye fell on the wrench. 'Did you hit me with that?'

'Er, yes. I hope you don't mind.'

'No, it...ow, my head!...knocked some sense into me. Ahh...' he brushed a hand across his face. 'I could see what I was doing, but I couldn't stop. I'm sorry, Nik. I nearly killed you.'

'You can make it up to me by helping me find Loki's power stick.'

'I'm looking right at it.'

'Three...two...one...package released.'

Sherlock watched the nuclear bomb wing its way towards New York. The first pilot fell back, but Sherlock stayed where he was. He knew he was supposed to. They had been so clever. Sending two pilots, two bombs. They knew that Tony could divert the first one, saving New York and destroying the Chitauri at one blow. But why the second bomb? Sherlock had figured it out. Nikita would realise soon. Nick Fury's mysterious superiors did not trust the Avengers. The team could save the world, or they could damn it. They were not about to let this dangerous group of people undermine their power. People like Tony Stark or Steve Rogers weren't going to meekly do as they were ordered. People like Bruce Banner couldn't possibly be controlled. And as for Clint and Natasha...well. They had to be got rid of. What Sherlock had difficulty understanding was how easily the powers that be had judged New York and its inhabitants an acceptable sacrifice.

No one would believe him. Not even Tony Stark or Nick Fury. He needed proof, and of course there wouldn't be any. It would take time, but Sherlock was not going to let this one go. Presuming he survived this, which he wasn't so sure about anymore.

Nikita stared at the sky. It was like they were all frozen in position. Natasha was poised to penetrate the Tesseract's shield and close it down, Erik couldn't take his eyes off the Cube. Nikita couldn't take her eyes off the sky, specifically where Tony had disappeared. He had gone into the portal bearing a nuclear weapon and he had not returned. Not looking good.

'We can't wait much longer!' Steve shouted urgently over the earpieces. 'Natasha, you have to close the portal now!'

'Not just yet!' Natasha gritted her teeth.

'Natasha, we can't wait any longer.' Nikita murmured quietly to her sister, without taking her eyes off the sky. 'Do it now.'

A blinding flash of light and a deafening boom of sound followed as the Tesseract withdrew back into itself. The portal was closing, and there was no sign of Tony.

'I can't believe he did it.' Natasha whispered, wiping away a trickle of blood from her hairline.

'Why not?' Nikita looked sharply at her sister.

'It's not in his nature to sacrifice himself for others.'

Nikita managed a small half-smile. 'Then you don't know him very well.'

Natasha screwed up her eyes. 'What's that?'

'I don't know...I can't see...'

'It's Tony!'

The sisters flung their arms around each other and hugged for the first time in over fifteen years.

'He's alright!' Natasha exclaimed breathlessly.

'Actually, I'm not sure...' Nikita looked apprehensively at the falling speck. It was descending rather too face.

'He's flying.' Natasha pointed.

'Um, no. I think he's falling.'

Minutes later, Tony lay, dented, battered, and very, very sore...but alive...in the middle of the street.

'We did it guys. Yay.' he gasped unenthusiastically.

Clint sat back on his heels and looked up to the top of what remained of Stark Tower. They had done it. So where was Nikita? Why wasn't she down here celebrating? Something was wrong, she just knew it.

The colour drained from Nikita's face. Erik Selvig's dropped to the ground and rested his face in his hands.

'Did you say...a second plane?' Nikita whispered into the phone. 'You mean...another bomb?'