Seph strolled through the quiet halls of his apartment building, his pace relaxed, unhurried. The moonlight filtering through the windows bathed the space in silver hues, casting long shadows along the walls.
His boots barely made a sound against the tiled floor as he approached the door to his apartment on the third floor.
A slight smirk tugged at his lips.
His fingers brushed over the door handle, and his smirk faded for a moment before the corners of his lips tilted upwards.
'Ohh... so that's how it is...'
Seph chuckled as he wasn't alone.
Not that he needed confirmation, he had already sensed it the moment he stepped onto the third floor.
The presence inside his apartment wasn't just anyone. It was someone with years of experience, someone who knew how to move without making a sound.
Seph pushed the door open and walked in casually, slipping off his coat and tossing it onto the couch. He stretched, rolling his shoulders with a low sigh, feeling the faint tension from the earlier skirmish melt away.
Dealing with those S.H.I.E.L.D. agents? That had been nothing more than a brief distraction.
A way to pass the time.
'Now, though... this?'
This was where the real game began.
Seph made his way to the kitchen. The soft click of a switch, and the stovetop flared to life. He reached for the coffee pot, filling it with water. He grabbed a few coffee beans and set them in a grinder.
He worked leisurely, humming slightly under his breath as the scent of freshly ground coffee filled the air.
Then, without looking up, he spoke.
"Black coffee? Or something else?"
The question floated through the room like a casual afterthought.
But it wasn't.
It was a statement.
And the person waiting for him in the shadows knew it.
Silence stretched for a moment, thick with unspoken tension.
Then a chuckle echoed in the empty apartment.
It was deep, measured, and full of intrigue.
"Black."
The voice was low and gravelly, cutting through the air.
Seph's smirk deepened as he reached for two mugs.
Tap... Tap... Tap...
Slow, steady, deliberate footsteps echoed in the living room, approaching the kitchen.
From the shadows, a middle-aged man stepped out.
Seph glanced at him and raised an eyebrow as he recognized the guy instantly.
Nick Fury!
The man was tall, standing at a solid 6'2", with the kind of presence that filled a room effortlessly. He had dark skin with a powerful build. He wore a long black leather trench coat, the kind that billowed with authority.
His right eye was covered by a black eyepatch, adding to the air of mystery that surrounded him. The remaining eye, a piercing dark brown, gleamed with sharp intelligence—calculating, unrelenting.
A scar ran vertically down from his brow to his cheek, a testament to the battles he had fought and survived.
His expression was calm, close to unreadable.
This was a man who had seen the world at its worst and still stood tall. A man who had orchestrated wars from the shadows and pulled strings no one even knew existed.
Seph poured the coffee, offering one of the mugs to Fury before taking his seat. The tension was thick, but not hostile.
It was the kind of tension that came from two apex minds sizing each other up.
Fury took a sip, nodding slightly in approval before smiling.
"Not bad," He said. "Didn't take you for a man of hospitality."
Seph smirked, swirling his coffee lazily. "I try to be a good host when someone breaks into my home uninvited."
Fury chuckled, setting his mug down. "Figured I'd skip the pleasantries. The front door was too slow."
"Ah, so you're impatient," Seph mused, leaning back in his chair. "That doesn't suit a man of your reputation."
Fury's smirk remained. "I'm a busy man, Mr. Seph."
"Just Seph," He corrected smoothly. "If we're skipping formalities, might as well drop the fake courtesy."
Fury leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. His eye gleamed with curiosity.
"That so?" He mused. "Then tell me, Seph… who the hell are you, really?"
Seph exhaled, pretending to think about it. "Now that's an interesting question, coming from someone who already knows the answer."
Fury chuckled. "I know a lot. But there's a difference between reading about a man… and meeting him face to face."
Seph took a slow sip of his coffee. "So, what do you think so far?"
Fury studied him. "I think you're more than just some mercenary."
Seph tilted his head. "That's not news, Director. Try a little harder."
Fury smirked. "Alright. You helped Stark clean up his messes, saved his ass. You went through my agents like they were training dummies. And now, you're sitting here, perfectly calm, not even flinching at the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. is breathing down your neck."
Seph chuckled. "Sounds about right."
Fury narrowed his eye. "That tells me one thing... you're not someone to be underestimated."
Seph grinned. "Glad we're on the same page."
Fury leaned back, swirling his coffee. "So tell me… what's your angle?"
Seph arched a brow. "Angle?"
"Men like you don't get involved without a reason," Fury said smoothly. "Tony Stark? He's a handful, yet you stuck around. That makes me curious."
Seph smirked. "Maybe I just like a challenge."
Fury chuckled. "Or maybe you see something the rest of us don't."
The silence fell between them for a beat. It was sharp and heavy.
Then, Seph chuckled. "And what if I do?"
Fury's gaze didn't waver. "Then I need to know what it is."
Seph grinned. "Now, where's the fun in that, Director?"
Fury exhaled, shaking his head. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely." Seph sipped his coffee, his smirk never fading.
Fury sighed, setting his mug down. "Alright, fine. Play your cards close to your chest. For now. But let's get one thing straight, Seph."
He leaned in, his expression dead serious.
"You're dangerous. That much is obvious."
Seph met his gaze, unbothered. "Flattering."
"But I'm not in the business of letting unknown variables run loose," Fury continued. "You might not see yourself as a threat. But I do. And if you ever become a problem…"
His eye darkened as he said in a low and threatening voice. "I'll be ready."
Seph chuckled. "Oh, I'd love to see you try."
Fury held his gaze for a long moment, and then he smirked.
"Guess we'll see."
He finished his coffee, stood up, and adjusted his coat. "I'll be in touch, Seph."
Seph raised his mug in a mock toast. "Looking forward to it."
And just like that, Fury was gone.
---- ✦ ✦ ✦ ----
Spoilers for the next three chapters!
Chapter 111: The Grand Birthday Trap
Chapter 112: When Chaos Reigns
Chapter 113: Boys and Donuts
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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