Archive of Our Own ^beta

Thanos cringed as he eyed his coffee, wondering how exactly they’d managed to find a brand that tasted worse than before. Truly, if the Company spent as much time and energy actually guarding it’s intelligence as it did one-upping itself in finding deadly instant coffee, the country probably would not be in such a state. Sometimes he despaired of his job.

Today was turning out to be one of those days. He’d walked through the elevator doors to see Barry valiantly trying to put out a fire crackling in Killian’s trashcan, while Killian and Finnegan stood off to the side trying to tempt Orin with a s’more. Dwayne’s head was face down on his desk, and he informed Thanos without looking up that no one else had yet come to work. When Thanos inquired as to how the fire had started, his only answer was a groan, and Thanos promptly decided that any situation causing Dwayne’s voice to crack was better left untouched. He continued to his office, but not before slapping Killian on the back of the head (and Finnegan for good measure) and stealing one of the s’mores.

He had the lone office of the team, which he ducked into gratefully as Killian and Finnegan howled at the abuse. Everyone else had desks arranged neatly before the elevators, with tall floor to ceiling windows making up the front wall. It was one of the ironies of the CIA. They tried to improve their image by making their buildings more transparent, but instead succeeded in showing either gossiping would-be workers or vacant desks of employees away on missions. Thanos himself only had marginally more privacy, as his windows were smaller and only his door made of glass. It would not do for him to physically cut himself off from his team. The glass door did, thankfully, deaden the chaos coming from the main office.

Thanos sighed lightly and placed his coffee cup on the corner of his desk, next to the picture of himself, Demeter, and Feodor. His siblings watched him as he booted up his computer and checked his email for any updates or complaints. He usually averaged at least six a week after bringing Killian and Finnegan onto the team. It was Monday morning, though, and the maintenance staff had not caught wind of the fire yet. His calender showed him having a meeting in five minutes with a Mr. Gallagher that he did not remember scheduling at all, and just as he was about to call for Barry to help jog his memory, his telephone rang.

“Speaking.” His clipped the words, put ill at ease by the blocked number. Numbers were not supposed to be blocked from the CIA.

“To Mr. Thanos Durin, I presume.” If it was possible, his back straightened even more. ”My name is Mr. Gallagher, and I have a proposal that might interest you.”

“I’m going to assume that you mean interest the CIA, not me personally.”

“Oh, Gwendolyn knows of what I speak.” Thanos was thrown. This man was on a first name basis with the head of the CIA.

“Well then, you have my attention. What would be so interesting to me and my team?” There was a pause over the other end of the line, as though this Mr. Gallagher was trying to gather the right words. Whatever this operation turned out to be, Thanos had a feeling it would be worth his time.

“Do you remember Erebor?”