Rai_jin
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#24 VCM
🕑 Added 2025-03-24 02:12:31 +0000 UTCIn the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Nick Fury sat at his desk, sifting through an endless pile of documents.
The aftermath of the Harlem incident had left the military scrambling to save face.
General Ross and his people were too busy pointing fingers at each other to deal with the mess, leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. to clean up.
Fury had taken the initiative to step in, knowing that handling the situation would give him leverage over the military and strengthen S.H.I.E.L.D.'s authority.
Annoying as it was, he could at least look forward to a bigger budget and more personnel when he made his next request to the World Security Council.
Knock!
A sharp knock at the door pulled Fury from his thoughts. He looked up to see Agent Phil Coulson standing in the doorway.
"Coulson, come in." Fury leaned back, setting the documents aside.
"Is there something urgent? I was just about finished with this mess."
"Not exactly, Director." Coulson stepped forward, setting another towering stack of paperwork onto Fury’s desk with practiced precision.
Fury’s eye twitched. "Tell me that’s not all for me."
"Hill asked me to deliver these to you. She hopes you can process them as soon as possible."
Fury scowled at the half-meter-high stack of files. "Where the hell is Hill? These are all classified; she has Level Nine clearance. She could handle these herself. Why dump them on me?"
Coulson hesitated before clearing his throat. "Hill… took a leave of absence. She’ll be out today and for the next couple of days."
Fury narrowed his eye. "For what reason? Her efficiency has been dropping lately, and now she’s completely off the grid?
This isn’t acceptable. If something happens, she’ll be responsible."
Coulson shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, well… let's just say it’s one of those few days of the month, sir."
Fury blinked. Then realization hit. "…Ah...."
He slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Fine. Whatever."
Desperate to think about anything other than paperwork, Fury looked up. "What about Ethan? Has he checked into S.H.I.E.L.D. yet?"
"He’s on the premises," Coulson confirmed.
"Where exactly?" Fury pressed. "Last I checked, he was supposed to be part of the Anti-Hulk Emergency Response Team. But since that unit isn’t even fully established yet, he’s basically just collecting a paycheck for nothing."
"From what I heard, he's in the recuperation area."
Fury frowned. "Why the hell is he in the recovery ward? He’s not injured."
Coulson shrugged. "Probably because everything there is free."
A mental image flashed in Fury’s mind: Ethan lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, sipping a drink, and munching on fruit slices while getting a foot massage from one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s nurses.
Fury sat up straight. "Oh, hell no. I’m drowning in work, about to need an oxygen mask just to function, and that bastard is living it up on my payroll?!"
His fist slammed on the desk. "Call him. Now. I want his ass in my office immediately."
Coulson, already expecting this reaction, sighed and pulled out his phone. The call connected quickly, but the line remained silent except for a faint, irritated breathing sound.
Coulson cleared his throat. "Ethan—"
"You have three seconds to give me a damn good reason for calling me, or I swear, I will personally make your life miserable!"
Coulson blinked. The sheer anger in Ethan’s voice rivaled even Fury’s worst moods.
For some reason, it reminded him of that time he was on a date, only to have Fury call him mid-dinner to cancel his vacation.
"Uh… Fury asked me to call you. I’ll hand him the phone now."
He passed the phone to Fury faster than Quicksilver could dodge a bullet.
Fury took the phone. "Ethan, get your ass to my office. Now."
"Mace Windu, what the hell do you want?!"
Fury’s eye twitched so hard, he thought it might pop out. "EXCUSE ME, MOTHEFUCKER?!"
Coulson took a slow step back, pretending he wasn’t in the room.
The last time someone insulted Fury like that, they disappeared from existence for a very long time.
Despite his rage, Fury kept his composure. He could hear the genuine frustration in Ethan’s voice. "I don’t care what you’re doing. You have ten minutes to get here."
Without waiting for a response, he slammed the phone down on the table and hung up.
Coulson winced. Not because of Fury’s anger, but because Fury had just smashed 'his' phone.
On the other side of the call, Ethan let out a long sigh.
With a reluctant stride, Ethan made his way toward Fury's office while muttering to himself, already dreading whatever nonsense was waiting for him.
...
In the director's office of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury and Ethan stood in a silent standoff, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. The tension in the room was thick, so much so that Phil Coulson, who stood to the side, debated whether he should slip out unnoticed.
He didn’t dare make a move, though—he had a gut feeling that any sudden action could shatter the fragile equilibrium between the two.
Fury clenched his fist, then slowly let it relax. This newcomer was a real headache.
If it had been anyone else, Fury would have blown up by now. Who dares to challenge him, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Did they not realize who they were dealing with? Did they not know whose name commanded respect and fear across the world?
But Ethan was different. Fury couldn’t simply assert dominance here. The last thing he needed was to have Professor X leading a group of X-Men to his office, demanding an explanation.
“What’s the big deal about grabbing a few snacks and drinks? Since when does whatever I do need your approval? Are you trying to start something?”
Ethan scoffed. “Forget it. Let’s bounce. This part-time gig is getting old.”
Fury groaned inwardly. It wasn’t just that Ethan had a powerful backing—his connections were a bureaucratic nightmare.
If Fury so much as lifted a finger against him, the fallout would be more trouble than it was worth.
Truth be told, Fury was probably underestimating Professor X’s patience. The man wasn’t the type to immediately resort to violence.
He might let it slide… or he might casually mention it over coffee with Magneto.
And then, well… who knew if Magneto would decide to pay S.H.I.E.L.D. a visit, maybe accompanied by a few tons of twisted metal?
Deciding that playing games was a waste of time, Fury got straight to the point.
“Ethan, do you know Tony Stark?”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Is there anyone in New York who doesn’t know that billionaire playboy?”
“Two days ago, the media reported that he disappeared in the Middle East. Is that true?”
Ethan knew full well Tony had been kidnapped and was currently stuck in a cave, building his Mark I suit out of scrap metal.
But playing dumb seemed like the safer option.
“Yeah, I heard something about that.”
Fury leaned in, his expression dark. “In reality, Stark disappeared more than two months ago.
We tried to keep it under wraps, made it seem like he was still active, and deployed a covert search team. But someone leaked the news.”
Ethan crossed his arms. “And now Stark Industries’ stock is tanking, the company’s a mess, and the big shareholders are panicking. So?”
“So?” Fury echoed. “You think this is just a corporate problem?”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Wait… don’t tell me you bought shares in Stark Industries.”
Fury hesitated, then admitted, “I might have picked up a few.”
Ethan smirked. “So now the stock’s crashing, and you’re stuck. Man, tough luck.”
“Do I look like I need your sympathy?” Fury snapped. “And that’s not the point! Do you think I called you here because I’m upset about some stock losses?”
Ethan feigned deep thought. “Then why do you care about the whereabouts of a spoiled billionaire?
You’re S.H.I.E.L.D. You should be out saving the world from the shadows, being all mysterious all-knowing type' shit, not tracking down rich guys with goatees.”
Fury rubbed his temples. “I swear, talking to you raises my blood pressure.”
Ethan smirked but said nothing.
Taking a deep breath, Fury continued. “The connection between Stark Industries and S.H.I.E.L.D. is deeper than you think. The U.S. government orders weapons from them. S.H.I.E.L.D. relies on them for tech.
Howard Stark, Tony’s father, was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s founders.
And recently, we ordered essential parts from Stark Industries for our Helicarrier maintenance.
Two of our four propulsion systems are offline right now. If we don’t find Tony, we might be grounded indefinitely.”
“Ah, so it’s about your fancy flying fortress,” Ethan mused. “Got it. But why involve me?
You don’t actually expect me to waltz into the Middle East and pull him out, do you? I’ve got classes to attend, and let’s be real, Professor X would never let me take off on a rescue mission.”
“I know,” Fury admitted. “That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I need you to talk to Professor X. He has Cerebro.”
Ethan frowned. “I see where you’re going with this, but it won’t work.”
