At Nick Fury's...
In a Manhattan apartment at the top floor of a swanky townhouse, Nick Fury was entertaining a guest.
"More champagne, honey?" he asked the woman lounging on his couch with a smile on her frosted pink lips. She nodded and he poured her another glass then took a seat next to her, looking her over with a faint smile.
This woman, who he knew as Carmelita was his favorite, "escort"- as they apparently preferred to be called- and it was the first chance he'd had to see her in sometime. Fury was a busy man. He'd already made the mistake of marrying once and now he knew better than to try to juggle an actual relationship with the demands of S.H.I.E.L.D. This was just far easier even than trying to pick up women in bars and Carmelita was quite nice to look at. She was tall and thin with smooth cafe au lait skin, light eyes, a bright smile and long hair. Sought after in high social circles as a party-companion, Fury always had to pay a hefty fee for an evening with her. And it was worth every penny.
They were chatting quietly with one another when he heard the familiar sounds of a chopper's whirring blades sound faintly. Perhaps it was his military persona but the sounds of jets or helicopters were something he always noticed without fail.
He ignored it at first but the noise grew louder and louder until the windows rattled as it made a landing on the makeshift helicopter pad just above his flat. He'd chosen this because it had roof access and he was able to come and go easily from home by chopper. The key word being he. No one else was supposed to use his "private" landing pad. He apologized to Carmelita and rose from the couch, stalking towards the door with roof-access stairs and climbing up to see who dared disturb his night off.