Hi! This is my first Fanfic. Sofia-Marie Johnson is an OC. Not based on any real cellists except for my sister who plays the cello.
Enjoy! Please R&R! I like constructive criticism. Only.
Pepper would never forget the dreadful feeling she felt when she found out that Agent Phil Coulson was dead.
"No. No, it can't be. No, not Phil!" she said to Tony.
"I'm sorry Pepper."
"How could this happen?"
"Loki stabbed him in the back," answered Tony bluntly.
Pepper shook her head in remorse. "We need…," she struggled to keep her thoughts straight. "We need to tell his family, we need to tell everyone. We need a funeral. Has Fury arranged anything?"
Then a thought occurred to her, and it was like a stab to the heart.
"Oh my goodness Tony, we need to tell his girlfriend."
"Oh, right," said Tony. "The cellist."
Sofia-Marie Johnson was in her living room one very early Sunday morning, practicing a Bach concerto on her cello. She was worried about something. Phil had told her over a week ago that he was going to be involved in a critical mission. She understood that it was pretty confidential, so when Phil couldn't tell her about his whereabouts, she was fine with it.
However, she hadn't heard from him all this time. Suddenly, she realized she was playing out of tune. Get a hold of yourself, she scolded herself. She was a professional cellist. She couldn't afford to play out of tune. Then the phone ringed.
Sofia-Marie jumped, startled. She quickly recovered, placed her cello carefully down, and ran to the phone. Please be Phil. Please be Phil.
She answered the phone.
"Hello, this is Natasha Romanoff. I assume you are Sofia-Marie Johnson." The voice at the other end was feminine, no-nonsense, yet gentle.
Do I really have a fan so crazy as to stalk me and find my number? Sofia-Marie decided to go along with it.
"Yes, I am Sofia-Marie."
"Then I correct in saying that you know about SHIELD."
Sofia-Marie froze. She had this horrible, dreadful feeling. "This is about Phil...isn't it? What happened?" she asked the Romanoff woman anxiously.
"I'm sorry to inform you that Agent Phil Coulson was stabbed on a mission. There will be a funeral this coming Saturday."
An "Oh," was all Sophia-Marie managed to say, because suddenly, the world was rocking her back and forth, and her head was filled with a harsh cacophonous noise. She almost passed out.
"Miss Johnson? Are you alright?"
"I-I don't know," stammered Sophia-Marie.
"I can send assistance." offered Natasha.
"I'm fine." Compose yourself! Sofia-Marie told herself.
"The funeral will start at 10 a.m., and I will send you the directions to the cemetery."
"I'll be there," she replied. "Thank you for informing me about...everything."
"No problem. Miss, Johnson, I have one thing to request from you. I know that all this is so hard on you, and we all share your regrets. Um...We'd love to have you play at the funeral. Would that be alright?"
"That would be okay." said Sofia-Marie.
"Then will you come to Stark tower on Tuesday to straighten things out with SHIELD? We will provide transportation. A taxi will pick you up at 7:00 a.m. All your performances and meetings for that day will be cancelled."
What the heck? thought Miss Johnson. "Sure...no problem. Um...I'll see you then, I suppose?"
"Ok, see you there. Have a good day Miss Johnson."
Sofia-Marie put down the phone. Suddenly, the full weight of what she just learned fell upon her. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Phil's dead. She plunked onto a chair and sobbed.