Clarity | Marvel Cinematic Universe

1. INITIATIVE

Invariably, the first chapter must be dedicated to marvelous_fan, the first person (aside from myself) to ever read 'Clarity' and give it feedback.

(08.24.18)

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With a loud crack, the punching bag split open and flew off its chain, sand spilling over the tear in the fabric. Vanessa Liang stood from her seat and walked over to the sole occupant of the boxing gym, concerned.

"Steve, are you alright? That's the second bag you've broken today," she said mildly. "I know you're 'a super soldier and you don't need a break,' but at least think about the gym owners."

He shook his head, breathing hard. His skin was shiny in the dim lighting. "I've paid for all of them," he said between gasps, picking up another heavy bag from the nearby pile with ease and stringing it up. "And more for tomorrow."

Vanessa blinked twice. "You're not seriously thinking that you can go through them all, are you? It's three in the morning and the place opens at six. three hours and -" she did a quick count - "six bags means two bags per hour. This isn't taking into consideration the time it takes to clean up all the sand you spill between bags."

Steve levelled her with a look that said 'challenge accepted.' "You don't have to stay here, you know. You've done all you can to help me already, and I appreciate it. I don't need you to stay up all night and watch me punch things."

"I'm paid to do it," Vanessa said with a shrug. She didn't really mind; a disorderly sleep schedule was just another part of her occupation. A good cup of coffee in the morning usually did the trick. "And sometimes, I can't sleep, either. One of these days I might start doing this, too."

"Don't," said Steve. "It's addictive."

She smiled slightly and bent down to straighten the fallen punching bag, which was still spewing sand onto the floor. "How about a little bit of sparring? I haven't practiced in a while and you can be sure my superiors will grill me on it if they find out I'm rusty -"

Oh, speak of the devil.

Vanessa's 'internal radar,' as she liked to call it, pinged with the approach of the most superior of her superiors - Nick Fury. She recognized the distinctive feeling that accompanied his proximity: an inexplicable quality of both safety and danger at the same time.

"Vanessa?" asked Steve. "What's the matter?"

She glanced at the doorway expectantly. "'The matter' will be here soon."

He frowned at the vague answer and proceeded to fetch a dustpan and broom to sweep up the spilled sand. Vanessa waited with bated breath for Fury to emerge from the doorway, and after a few moments, he did, looking as intimidating and imposing as ever with his eyepatch and trenchcoat.

"You were expecting me," he observed. "Did Coulson tell you I was coming?"

"No, Director," she said. "It was my sixth sense, you know."

Fury almost smiled. "Of course it was. Good evening, Captain Rogers. Trouble sleeping?"

Steve emptied the first load of sand into a trash can. "I slept for seventy years, sir. I think I've had my fill."

"Then you should be out, celebrating, seeing the world," said Fury.

Vanessa gave a huff. "That's what I've been trying to convince him of every second day for the past three months, Director. With little success, might I add."