"It'd be nice to have a new name, to start with, one that's not all worn out from being called so much." —Winnie Foster, Tuck Everlasting.

Londyn sighed, closing her apartment door with her foot. Her arms were loaded with two plastic bags of groceries she had just bought. Her home was modern and compact, just the right size for her. The décor was straightforward, black and white, minimal. She loved the way it looked, even if none of it reflected anything about her. It seemed empty, and she liked it that way. She set the groceries on the black and white granite countertop, then turned to open her silver fridge. She had only unloaded the bread and grapes when there was a knock on her door.

Was that... my door? No one ever came to visit her except for David, who always checked ahead with her. She waited a second, until another rapping noise came. Who on Earth could be here? I don't have any repairs and my rent is paid. I don't know any of the neighbors that well. Maybe someone has the wrong door. Closing the fridge, the woman strode over to her door and slowly opened it. There was a trim man with shaved blond hair and sage green eyes waiting at the door. He was still young, around thirty—the same age as her. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm looking for Agent Londyn Justice?" The man folded his hands genteelly in front of his waist as he made his inquiry. There were papers in his hands still. They crunched as he held them in one fist.

Her heart began to beat fast as memories flashed before her mind's eye for half a second. A half second that felt like a lifetime. A black man in a long coat and an eyepatch striding up, barking her name. Another man, smiling, affectionately using the title. A scream. A badge of courage. She quickly refocused on the present and shook her head. "No."

"I'm sorry?" Her visitor looked confused and consulted the papers in his fist. "I was informed that Agent Justice lives here."

"No. No one by that title lives here." Londyn began to close the door, but he held it with a strong hand. She should have felt threatened, but she didn't. She knew S.H.I.E.L.D.'s code of conduct, she knew their morals. He wouldn't hurt her. Nevertheless, she tried not to look him in the eyes, instead latching her gaze upon the S.H.I.E.L.D. badge on his chest. It brought back so many memories. A badge of courage.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but what is your name?" His polite voice snapped her back to the present again.

She hesitated, then sighed in defeat. "Londyn Justice. But that's not my title." Not anymore. "Hello, agent." "Hello, fellow agent." No. that's not my title. 

Now he was definitely confused. "Then what is?"

The woman raised her chin, meeting his green eyes with her own, and brushing a strand of coppery hair out of her face. "Ms. Londyn Justice. And I don't think I can help you."

"Oh, my... my apologies, Ms. Justice." His tone was respectful, even though she had tried to catch him on a minor technicality. "My name is Quinn Kitt, I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. I was hoping to have a word with you."

"S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Londyn laughed a little, trying to play innocent citizen. "Should I know what that is?" Just saying the name out loud made her want to bite her tongue off. How many times had she used the word like he did? She had been just the same, saying it so casually, allowing it drip off her tongue like an empty condolence at a funeral.

He looked at her strangely. "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Don't you...?"

"I have things to do," Londyn interrupted, gripping the door tighter. His eyes flickered to her knuckled observantly, but he made no mention of it. "Is there anything you really need or are we done?" If only he would go away. Everything about him reminded her of S.H.I.E.L.D. His shaved hair, his smart uniform, his polite attitude, his build, the gun, the badge—everything.

"Please, ma'am, I just need a few minutes of your time," he said. His tone was respectful, and almost pleading. He was probably just trying to be a good soldier and follow the orders of whomever had sent him. She had a pretty good hunch who it might have been.

The woman glanced back towards her home, then sighed and opened the door wider. "All right. Come on in." Leading the way, she showed Quinn into her apartment and had him sit on an island stool while she began to put away the groceries again. "What is it I can help you with exactly?"

"Well," he hesitated for half a moment, "we're having problems trying to riddle out this mystery."

A chill came over her like a blanket. Mysteries? Not again. Never again.

"And you were the best mystery..." he struggled for a word, "solver we had."

Londyn forced a breathless, sardonic laugh out as she put apples in a fruit bowl. "Oh, was I? Are you with some sort of pranking group? Am I on a secret camera?" She peered her green eyes around, as if looking for the camera, but no one had been in her house lately, so she knew there would be none. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a computer coder at a local PC business. Sure, I'm great at what I do, but I've never solved any mysteries there." She forced her face into an amused expression to hide her growing dread.

"Please, Ms. Justice." Her guest stood, watching her intently. "We need your help." He walked around the counter to where she was standing, coming a little too close for her liking. But he wasn't threatening, he simply looked sincere. "You might be the last hope."

She looked into his eyes for a moment, then gave a short laugh. "How many times has that card been used? How many people have you said that to already?" Her own eyes were filled with distain to the man, but what he couldn't see under there was the pain. The woman walked around him, going over to the large window across the room that overlooked the city. "You know, there are a lot of dishonest people in this world, and no matter how hard you try, you just can't beat them all." She rested a hand on the wooden frame of the glass, gazing out into the evening.

Quinn was quiet. Then, "Fury sent me." The words were soft, almost as if he knew the agony they caused. But he could never know the full extent of the void widening in her heart. He would never know exactly what pains she had suffered. His heart wasn't broken like hers.

So many memories tonight. So many things she had tried to forget. The man in the eyepatch, handing her a file; telling her to be careful; watching her fly away; giving her a small grin; crying with her. She had thought there was no way she could possibly miss him more than she already did, but the words widened the split in her heart as she took a shuddering breath. She missed Fury a lot. He had been both a director and a friend to her. He had understood when she left. It had been, what... two years since she had seen him? That was a long time to avoid an old friend. Was he still the same? How much had both of them changed in the last two years? The lonely ache for a friend increased as she thought about him seriously for the first time in a long time. If only she could go back in time.

"Fury," she whispered, just loud enough for her guest to hear, with a little, sad smile breaking onto her lips. "I haven't seen him in years. Not since I... well, not since I came here." She turned the man still in the kitchen. "He knows I don't work for S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore."

"Yes," said Quinn, "but he also knows that you were his best mystery-solver. That's why he's asking..." He cleared his throat. "For you to come back."

Her green eyes were all surprise and pain. "Come back? He couldn't possibly expect me to... I can't. No. I quit and that was final." Quinn looked stunned at her firm reply. "I don't do that sort of thing anymore."

"Please," he said, taking a few steps toward her. "We just need you for a little while. Surely it wouldn't be all that bad?"

Londyn gave that short laugh again and looked at the floor. "Do you know what happened?" she asked, glancing back at him, eyes full of heartache and sorrow. "Why I don't work for S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore? Why I've resigned to being a computer programmer? Why I moved all the way out here?"

He looked at his shoes, unable to bear her gaze. "I had heard it had something to do with 10th Bomb."

"Do you know how many people died that day?"

His confusion rose again. "Well, you cracked their code and got there a few minutes before it went off. You personally saved thirteen people who were tied up to be killed by the explosion."

"But how many people died?" Her tone and volume went up. She didn't want to hear about the people she had saved. She wanted him to know the sadder side of this story. The shadows few even knew lurked there.

"One," replied the man quietly. "His named was... something Hugh... Gil maybe. No, that doesn't sound right." He knit his brow, trying to remember.

"William," Londyn said, drifting over to a small side table and lightly touching it with her fingertips. "William Hughes. One of the best men I've ever known." A picture with a golden frame was drawn out of the drawer. "He was brave, and kind." She stared at it, tears in her eyes. His picture showed a handsome man with dull black hair, dark eyes and sharp cheekbones. She remembered his eyes, the color of night with stars in them. He had Native American somewhere in his blood, he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. to protect the land of his ancestors. "And he loved to protect people." She turned back to the waiting man, blinking away the tears. "You have no idea how close we were."

"W-well, I know that he was a field agent and often got assigned to help with the mysteries, which means you two worked often together," Quinn stammered out, still confused by her reaction.

Londyn blew a short, sharp breath out of her nose. "Like I said, you have no idea. Hardly anyone knew. No reason why you would." His eyebrows pinched harder together, but she took her time, letting out a breath before continuing. "Eight months and three days before the 10th Bomb... Will and I went to court and signed a marriage contract." She smiled softly, eyes looking beyond her guest, who was staring in shock. After a moment she refocused. "He was my husband." Her voice choked up. "The only person I couldn't save was my husband."

"Ms... I mean, Mrs. Hughes, I had no idea," Quinn said earnestly, green eyes still lined with surprise. The woman flinched at the name. "I was never informed... I'm so sorry," he blew out a regretful breath, running a hand through his hair.

Will did the same thing, Londyn thought momentarily. "I'm not Mrs. Hughes. I am Ms. Londyn Justice. Will and I..." Her fingers intertwined as she looked down. "We wanted to keep each other safe. So hardly anyone knew that we were married, and I kept my name. So, please, don't ever call me that again."

"My apologies, ma'am." The man bowed his head in respect. "I had no intention of bringing you pain."

Intended or not, that's the only things you've brought since I opened that door, she thought bitterly, not looking at him. "You didn't know," was her soft reply, repenting of the angry thought that occurred just a moment ago. "So, try to understand why I don't want to solve any more mysteries."

"I do understand," he said. "To the best I am informed, anyway."

He might have gone on, but she cut in. "What do you know about it?"

"About as much as I've already told you. You cracked the bomber's code and got to the bomb sight before it went off. Your team rushed in, took out the bad guys, untied the kidnaped people and got out before the bomb went off. You got everyone but Agent Hughes safely back because he had gotten stuck somehow. Then you quit, for reasons unknown to most." He noticed her saddened look. "Is there something... wrong?"

Londyn gave a soft laugh. "I suppose those are the essentials to the story. But there's more meat behind it than that." She knew she had piqued his curiosity, so she gestured to a seat for him, sank down on the couch and began to tell a story that hadn't been told by her lips in years. 

Thanks for reading! I hope you'll enjoy hearing Londyn's story! Don't forget to comment, vote, and save to your library so you don't forget to check for updates!

~AJ