I get satisfaction everywhere I go. Characters: Nick and Wick Setting: Nick's apartment Content: Nick Fury Summary: Nick and Wicked have some important bsns to discuss like SHIELD crap and cats
Fucking conferences. Like Nick had nothing better to do than sit in a room listening to a bunch of European assholes whining about global security or saving the whales or whatever the fuck this meeting was about. He liked them better when they were remote, but some fuckhead decided that holding a summit the old fashioned way would promote unity and discourse. Fuck that. Nick was tossing some socks into a suitcase when he heard the doorbell. Probably Wicked, or the pizza he'd ordered. Which he guessed he'd have to share with Wicked now if it got there when she was.
Scooping up General Bart as he passed, Nick went to the door to gaze through the peephole and then opened it with the fluffy black cat under his arm. It was Wicked, not the pizza. Straight-faced he greeted her with, "Hey girl, how's the hoo-ha?"