21 January 2008.
Lucius spent his mornings selling potions, withdrawing his hard-earned cash, then brewing elsewhere until his hands smelled like honey and cheap aluminium pots. His routine had turned into a business model, and his street had turned into a queue.
Cars lined the kerb like a private auction. Drivers sat with bags full of cash. The NYPD did slow passes to keep the peace. People who did not look like NYPD did the same.
He finished the last sale, counted the notes once, then again, and gave his new neighbours the same empty and pleasant smile he gave everyone.
The moment his door closed, the smile died.
He went straight to his bedroom, pulled the blackout curtains, and let the room fall into pitch darkness. Darkness was his only comfort and cover for now. He will endure until the time he finds some enhanced beings with power over technology or electronics.
He turned invisible and stepped through the wall of ordinary life.
The house on his right belonged to SHIELD. He did not have paperwork, but he had eyes, ears, and the irritating gift of being right.
He appeared inside her kitchen with a short teleport, then stayed still. The agent was there, dressed as if she had just come back from a run. Fit, controlled, hair tied back, body language trained even when she thought no one was watching. She moved with discipline and the casual arrogance of someone who believed she was the hunter.
Lucius watched her because he was a professional. She opened a secure channel on her phone. "No, sir," she said quietly. "He did not react. Yes, I tried suggestive approaches again. Nothing." She paused, then spoke again, irritation leaking through the words. "I made a mistake last week. I will not speculate about his preferences again."
Lucius felt something in his head go cold. So she had actually written it. He continued to watch her shower, masturbate the anger out of her system and sleep. This was intelligence work, not being a perv.
He left before he decided to prove her mistake personally.
The house on his left was worse; it was not SHIELD or their cousin HYDRA.
The woman sat on the floor with her eyes shut, breathing slowly. She was a detector, a sniffer to locate mutants.
Lucius did not get closer than necessary. He stood behind her, invisible, and watched for the smallest signs.
Her head tilted. Her brows frowned, almost like she was feeling the disturbance yet could not pinpoint the source. Invisibility he got from DiLimoncello was really superior if a detector was having difficulty locating him.
"You are close," she whispered to herself.
Lucius teleported to the far corner of the room and stayed still. He could have killed her. He could have taken her ability. He did neither. Not yet.
He wanted to know who had sent her.
She moved to her laptop and tapped fast, the kind of typing that came from practice. Lucius could not see the screen clearly from his angle, but he caught a name. She was hound of the Brotherhood of Mutants. Well, that was insulting. He was not a mutant. He was a Homo Superior.
Lucius returned to his bedroom and sat on the edge of his bed in the darkness.
SHIELD on the right.
Brotherhood on the left.
He was sandwiched and not in the way he would like to be between these two bombshells of spies.
--
Phil Coulson did not come in the morning. He had already read the reports. There was no need to disturb the routine of the target. Neither SHIELD nor the owners of the waiting cars have the luxury to frighten him and lose the only steady supply of miracle vials.
He came in the evening.
He parked a plain car two streets away and walked the rest. On his way in, he noted the line of vehicles that would form again at dawn. He noted the extra patrol cars. He noted the private security pretending to be homeowners walking dogs.
The house itself looked normal, upper-middle comfort, tidy lawn, curtains drawn like the occupant liked privacy, he scoffed. Coulson reached the porch and knocked twice, gentle and deliberate.
The door opened.
Lucius stood there in a grey t-shirt and lounge trousers; he was tall and bulky. Not the nerd civilian he was expecting.
Coulson's gaze assessed automatically. With his height, build and balance, he could easily join SHIELD after a short training.
Lucius's mouth curled.
"Just so you know," Lucius said, "I am not into men. If you keep staring, I am going to punch you."
Coulson took half a breath, then let it out.
"Mr Noctis," he replied, tone polite, "forgive the unannounced visit."
"You are five seconds away from getting punched, choirboy."
Coulson did not flinch. He reached into his jacket and presented his badge at a readable angle.
"I am Agent Phil Coulson," he said. "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. I would like a moment of your time."
Lucius looked at the badge, then at Coulson again.
"So you madeup a name just so the abbreviation of it spells SHIELD," Lucius said. "That is either dedication or a cry for help."
He stepped back and gestured inside.
"Come in."
Lucius motioned towards the sitting room.
"I am sure you can find your way," Lucius said, voice flat. "As if you have seen the house hundreds of times. I will make coffee."
Coulson kept his face neutral and sat where he was directed.
Lucius returned with two mugs and placed them on the table. He sat opposite Coulson and made no effort to engage in small talk.
"So," Lucius said, "what can I do for SHIELD, Agent Coulson?"
Coulson lifted the mug, took a sip, then placed it down carefully.
"We would like a working relationship," he replied. "A stable channel for acquiring the LHP and LSP you are providing. My visit is to clear the picture and to discuss terms. We would like to know if you are the one producing or if you are only distributing them"
Lucius tilted his head slightly.
"If I produce them," Lucius said, "or if I acquire them, what is it to SHIELD?"
Coulson met his gaze.
"Your products change medical outcomes," Coulson replied. "It is standard for a procurement contract, Mr Noctis."
"Lovely," Lucius said. "Now explain why you would entertain the thought I have already agreed and get involved with an agency sending burglars and spies into my house and treating me like a fish in an aquarium."
Coulson did not blink.
"I beg your pardon, Mr Noctis, but there is clearly a misunderstanding," he said evenly.
Lucius leaned forward.
"Oh, you will beg," Lucius added and smirked, "did they find anything useful?"
Coulson waited.
Lucius pointed with one finger towards the right neighbour.
"You placed a spy there," Lucius said. "She asks personal questions, she writes reports, and last week she decided I might be gay because I did not drool when she tried to bait me."
Coulson's eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, but in calculation.
"And," Lucius continued, "someone keeps entering my home and installing microphones and cameras. Fifty microphones and ten cameras in one month."
Coulson's expression stayed smooth.
"Those are grave accusations," he replied. "SHIELD does not violate citizens' privacy. If you believe yours has been breached, I can offer assistance. We can sweep for devices. We can run a background check on your neighbours. We can alleviate concerns."
Lucius stared at him for a long moment.
"That is a good attempt," Lucius said. "Brazen, but good."
He tapped the side of his mug once.
"So your agency did not run a background search on a friend of mine," Lucius continued, "and your system does not have the same logo as your badge in the right corner of the screen, right?"
Coulson's silence lasted a beat too long.
It was neither a confession nor a denial. He was a man deciding which lie cost less.
Coulson's tone shifted a fraction.
"SHIELD stands to defend the people, Mr Noctis," Coulson replied.
Lucius smiled.
"So you are here," he said, "because you only want my potions."
Coulson held his gaze. "Yes."
Lucius leaned back.
"Then let us stop pretending," Lucius added, and continued. "If SHIELD wants my vials, the price will go up by ten per cent per vial. That will compensate my losses."
Coulson's eyebrows rose slightly.
"Losses," he repeated.
Lucius's face blanked. He was not going to discuss Daisy's hourly rate. He had pride, and he had limits, and those two occasionally shook hands.
"It is the constant disturbance caused by your spies and the time I spent daily on locating the new recorders," Lucius said. "Plus the towing fees. Plus the stress. All because your agency treated my house like a public park."
Coulson absorbed that without comment.
"I am sure we can discuss terms," Coulson said. "But I think this meeting has started poorly."
Lucius nodded once.
"That is the first honest thing you have said," he replied.
Coulson stood.
"I understand your position," he said. "I will convey it to the upper echelon. Hopefully, our next meeting will be in a more constructive tone."
Lucius walked him to the door.
Coulson paused on the threshold.
"I will be in t-.." The door closed before he could finish his sentence.
Lucius stood there for a moment, then turned back to his bedroom.
He had spent nearly one thousand dollars because of them. Now he will see them pay for it.