Chapter Text
Tucker sighed, leaning against the side of the shelter. Rain sheeted from the sky, and in his mad dash down residential streets to the bus stop, he had become saturated. Certainly not the greatest start to his Monday.
Removing his beret, Tucker twisted it in his hands, wringing out the water. The item squelched pathetically, and the young man stared at it. The colour was faded, the shape barely recognisable, and the tip bore scorch marks from one of the first ghost fights he had participated in. Back before the world knew anything about halfas or the Guys in White, life had been far more dangerous.
"I think it's time to put you to rest," Tucker told the beret tenderly, placing his waterproof backpack on the shelter's bench. Stashing the soggy red lump in the side pocket, he sighed in relief at the fact that his various electronics hadn't been touched by the deluge.
Life was certainly much quieter now that the only threat to his PDA was a bit of rain.
It had started in the weeks leading up to graduation.
Danny stopped calling him to join in the ghost fights, and Tucker stopped asking. The boys were still best friends, but the human no longer participated in that dangerous aspect of the halfa's life.
Three years after graduation, and Amity Park was no longer Tucker's home.
While Danny had stayed behind and taken up the position of full-time ghost hunter, Tucker had turned his back on the town. He was almost finished studying a Bachelor of Engineering and Information Technology at Wisconsin, and while most of the time he was already far more advanced than the professors themselves, the young man was happy.
This was his dream, after all.
Tucker frowned as a sleek black vehicle pulled into the bus stop. Just like in the movies, a heavily-tinted window slid down to reveal an elegant woman who appeared to be wearing a form-fitting, sleek black outfit.
She seemed familiar, but Tucker had made special effort to ignore the media's attention to superheroes ever since Danny saved the world. Too much drama for a simple geek's liking.
"Tucker Foley, would you like to come with us?"
Tucker gulped, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and approached the vehicle. The door was opened for him by this strange woman, and he slid onto the seat, smiling slightly at the towels that had been laid out for him.
The woman pulled the door closed once Tucker was settled, and the car started to move.
"If you plan to hurt me, should I remind you who my best friend is?" the geek asked quietly.
The woman gave a light laugh, pushing an errant strand of wavy red hair back behind her ear. "Please, Mr Foley, I'm going to offer you a job."
Tucker sat up straighter, suddenly thankful that he had already dispensed of the beret. This woman exuded an aura of power, and for once in his life, the man managed to refrain from attempting to flirt. Now if he could only remember with whom she was affiliated...
"You may have heard of the disbanding of the Guys in White a couple of years ago –" she ignored Tucker's snort – "but in its wake, President Hartman has suggested that we add dealing with the world's ghostly population to the rest of our responsibilities. To do this, we need ties, and we need experts."
Tucker held up his hands. "Whoa, there. I don't hunt ghosts anymore, not since ghost hunting killed someone very dear to me!"
The woman swallowed visibly. "Yes, I understand your predicament. However, you will not be in the field. You see, we need a leader in ghost hunting technology. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I have heard that you have been able to fix every single one of the Fentons' faulty inventions."
Tucker shrugged. "Yeah, it's my passion, but surely there are people more qualified than me."
Her smile was pretty. "We need somebody who knows how the ghosts think, and you have inside experience. We only have two other employees who could even be considered for the position I am offering you. However, neither of them have the aptitude for this type of long-time work."
The geek tilted his head. "I can pull out at any time?"
The woman inclined her head. "We are not going to imprison you, Mr Foley."
He chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "Well, I guess that it can't hurt to give it a go. Who are you, and what organisation would I be working for?"
Her smile was back again, and as she opened her mouth Tucker finally realised what team she belonged to, and exactly the type of trouble he might be getting himself into.
"I'm Natasha Romanov, here on behalf of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."