A message
Sammy was jostled as the line shifted unexpectedly forward by people waiting for that all important afternoon jolt of caffeine. She was already in a cranky mood so the person that stumbled into her didn't get much more than a muttered 'it's fine' to their muttered 'sorry'. All she wanted was a cup of coffee before she returned to her shopping. It wasn't her favorite activity, so anything that would help her through it was appreciated, especially given the circumstances. Mom and Dad received invitations to attend parties of different political flavors, and often they went when their duties allowed and the UN needed a SHIELD presence. Sammy was taken to many of them from the time she was old enough to not call everyone a 'damn yahoo!' SHIELD first, then politics.


It was precisely that formula that required Sammy now find a suitable dress to wear as Dad was on a hush project that he and Mom wouldn't discuss with her, and Sammy would be her mother's escort for the occasion. The dress purchase could have been left to the professional shopper that Valentina sometimes used, but the woman would not be able to resist matching outfits. Sammy was sent off to find herself a dress with orders that it not be white or in any shade that could be described as neon. Gun metal blue was given a tentative approval.

Easy enough, she'd thought, until she got a look at what was out there. All the prom and graduation dresses that didn't make the cut weeks ago when they were originally put out for sale were all that was left. She was going to call it quits for the day and simply beg for Valentina to lend her something. Maybe she'd even cut her hair very short and wear a tuxedo suit tailored for a woman.

No, that was a look that required nerve, and Sammy didn't have a daring fashion sense when it came to these things.

She finally reached the counter and placed her order for a large black coffee, three sugars, and reached into her pocket for cash. Along with the singles, which she handed over to the counterperson, she found a slip of plain white paper. The crush in the coffee shop was enough that she didn't take the time to read it then, only grabbed her cup and dumped the change into the tip jar on her way out.

Outside on the street, she read the few sentences several times over, the coffee forgotten. She used her cell phone to leave a message with Valentina's assistant. No details, just 'I'll be off the carrier for a couple of days.' After she disconnected, she shoved it back in her pocket and looked around. No clues, no familiar faces, no one pinging her SHIELD radar. How the message got in her pocket was a mystery.

Anybody watching her would see her standing in the stream of foot traffic. Then she was gone.