SSARITF? Chapter One

[samecgh]

SHIELD Agent Phil Coulson was working on the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated since the beginning of the day. Occasionally, he would look up into the recreation area to watch the group. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were fighting on the Wii, Steve in the lead. Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff were talking with Bruce Banner, discussing places the three of them have visited over the years. Thor was watching the first two while eating a box of Pop Tarts.

His phone rang, and he answered while reviewing the nearest file, “Coulson.”

“There are reports that Loki is down in Major Mark Park,” a rookie announced. The activity around the room ceased as JARVIS alerted them and tapped to the call.

“What's the concern?” he inquired, stopping his writing.

“He's surrounded by unknowns. They're making a general mess, and a few civilians have been scared by them.”

Coulson saw that the group looked interested. “The unknowns do not sound overly hostile. What's your concern?”

There was a pause at the other end. “Sir, we're still worried....”

“The word they're looking for is scared, terrified, afraid,” Tony listed, before Steve very lightly hit him. He still glared and rubbed his arm in response.

Phil glared at him. “Loki has been redeeming himself. He knows the consequences if he relapses.” There was another awkward pause at the other end. Tony was highly amused, Clint and Natasha as well. “I will bring Thor and Agent Romanoff to talk to Loki. The rest will be on standby.”

“Yes sir,” he ended, sounding much too relieved. Tony started laughing, Steve not stopping him because he was too amused. Thor had set down his food and moved to gather his items. Natasha checked her weapons and headed to the elevator.

“It's unlikely anyone else will be needed, but just in case,” Coulson instructed.

“Be prepared,” Tony yelled, “Don't worry Agent, we were all girl scouts.” He received a pillow in the face by Clint, who walked by to get up to his room.

The drive to the park was uneventful. Another car joined them when they went passed headquarters. The area around the park was quiet, clear of civilians. They parked along the sidewalk at the entrance. A woman in a suit came over to greet him. “I'm sorry, you can't park here,” she apologized.

Coulson stepped out of the car and pulled his ID out. “Agent Coulson, SHIELD. We had a report that a party related to out interests was here,” he informed, walking by her to follow Natasha and Thor in.

“You can't do that,” she yelled, relaying information into a radio, “We have someone from SHIELD here.”

Loki was easy to spot, arguing with a young man. The unknowns looked relatively like large, blue, furry armadillos. Two were 'barking' up a tree at something no one could see. One had settled at Loki's side, sitting quietly. The last one was sniffing at the young man, nose close to a jacket pocket. “Look, we just need to know what happened. These 'beings'....” he appealed.

“They are called Junditto,” he chided, not entirely happy.

“Right. The Junditto are not supposed to be awake; there are only a few select groups that can wake them using the proper spells or their own energies. We've had no reports of those particular beings around,” he explained, “We need to know if there are any similar or corresponding energies that you may have activated during your trip here. And if you weren't the instigating party, then you may have some idea on what did. So we'll need to question you on what you saw, heard.”

Loki looked down at the human, a little amused then. The Junditto looked up at the approaching party, namely Thor. He turned to the newcomers. “Thor,” he addressed, “Agents Romanoff and Coulson.”

The young man followed his gaze, seeing the first two mentioned. “I'm sorry, but you can't be here,” he insisted, walking over. “This area is close off; you need to...” He stopped when he saw Coulson, openly staring. It took a minute for him to get a coherent thought. “Phil?”

Coulson didn't quite know how to react. Surprisingly. He had forgotten all his family when he joined SHIELD, leaving behind his original surname. He hadn't seen any of his younger siblings since they were all split up. He stopped talking to Frank after he joined the Rangers. After the name change, the ones he encountered didn't immediately recognize him, even Frank had trouble. He didn't think the younger ones would even remember what he looked like. Especially John, who hadn't seen him since he was six.

Natasha led the conversation, allowing him to gather his thoughts. “Agent Romanoff, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. Loki is one of our assets. We were told of his presence and came to make sure he wasn't in the middle of trouble,” she carefully informed.

The young agent turned back to her. “I understand, but the Junditto are under our jurisdiction,” he argued.

“And Loki is under ours,” Coulson threw back, putting questions at the back of his mind. It didn't help as anger began to subtly cloud his mind.

Natasha stepped in again. “Why don't we cooperate for a short amount of time?” she suggested, “Loki will answer your questions related to the Junditto and only those. Coulson will moderate on his behalf. Do they need to be rounded together for transport?”

“Uh,” he hesitated, looking back. The two that used to be by the tree were now chasing each other, the one at Loki's feet looking to join. The young agent's started licking his hand for attention, which he gave by absentmindedly petting him. “Please? Just don't hurt them. They seem harmless.”

“Thor,” she motioned, “Loki, try to keep yours from joining.” The two walked over to the circling pair. Thor grabbed the closest by the neck, which started to whimper and whine. Natasha distracted the other with a long branch, making it chase it over to a large vehicle.

“So, how did you arrive at the park?” the young agent asked, ready to write down relevant information.

“Spell.”

“Were the Junditto already awake when you came, or did they awake after your presence?”

Loki took a few minutes to fully think about his answer. “They came out of the ground around my arrival, but they could have been stirring before I arrived.”

“Okay let's start with your magick not being the cause. Did you see anyone around that didn't look quite human? Or hear or sense?”

“Saw or heard, no. There may have been trace amounts of a spell that recently occurred when I arrived. Other than my own,” he added.

“Could you give us any indication on what the spell was? Is there an equivalent one in your knowledge that would help us limit our search?”

Loki thought for a minute. Of course there was a corresponding spell, but he didn't want to talk to this child any longer. Besides, humans should learn to do their own research. Especially if they're going to be visited more often. Coulson, however, picked up on this and gave him a pointed glare. Answer his question. “There is a similar spell that I know of. It's to call a specific person or item to you,” he passed over quickly.

“Okay, so a summoning spell of sorts,” he noted, writing it down. “Demons and sorcerers that have that power,” he mumbled, going through ideas that he would have to research back at headquarters. “Thank you. If it doesn't link back to an outside source, is there anyway we can check the spell you used around them? To see if they become hyped up around your presence? Or the spell's?” He realized that Loki's presence at the moment would have hyped them up, so there wasn't a way of telling without a baseline.

“If needed, we will arrange for a time where he will show up and we can test,” Coulson claimed, looking at Loki to dare him to reject the idea. However, he didn't argue or dissuade him, so he possibly agreed, or was waiting until the young man wasn't there so he could argue with him.

He looked a little relieved. “Thank you,” he breathed, digging out a card to give to him. “The number is my office line. You can call for information. Or if you want to... never mind,” he shot down. “I'll send you an electronic copy of the full report, Agent Coulson.”

He ignored the emphasis on his last name. “I rather have a paper copy. Where's your office?” he questioned.

John stammered a bit, “My office isn't the greatest place to meet. We could find a neutral place or I could send one to you, or I could go to your office.”

Coulson wondered why he didn't want him at his office. It shouldn't have been like he had anything to hide. He was FBI, last time he checked; although he would have to check again if he was dealing with otherworldly creatures. “You will have to arrange an appointment in advance. You know where the SHIELD office is in New York, correct?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I'll call ahead.”

“Are we done?” Natasha inquired, walking over.

“Yeah, we're done,” he said. Thor, Natasha and Coulson walked off, Loki following after being dragged by Thor, his Junditto trailing them. “Okay, bye.” The Junditto that attached to him started whining and nudging him again. “Thanks for fucking acknowledging me, Jerk.” He scratched the head and realized what he was doing. “How come you're not with your friends?”

=

The card Coulson had been given was thrown on the table. Natasha read the name and quickly memorized it. She went to her room and started pulling up search engines. After a half hour, she had as much information she could dig up without hacking into areas. She stopped when she heard Clint walking in. “Park?” he asked.

“Another agency was already on the ground. The agent that was questioning Loki recognized Coulson,” she informed him, going back to her search.

“How?”

“Don't know yet,” she said.

He looked over her shoulder. “John Thaddeus Myers, thirty-six, youngest of seven, Magna Cum Laude from University of Oklahoma before going to Quantico. Graduated in two-thousand three, and then there's nothing.” He looked at her, coming to a conclusion. “What secret organization?”

She hummed in agreement as she checked the usual and obvious ones, “Not IMF, although there may be a Myers there.”

“I'll check with Will; he probably knows.”

She went on, “Not NIA. Has never been associated with SHIELD. Doesn't know Coulson from us.”

“What about that weird one with the Director Fury hates?”

She glared at him. “Be more specific.”

He screwed up his eyes trying to place the name. “Manning?” he guessed.

“Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense.” She took a minute to break the intermediate encryption on their personnel files. “They have terrible security.”

“Unless they're waiting to spring something,” Clint pointed out, reading the files before pointing the one out they needed, “Myers, John Thaddeus. Handler, two-thousand three to two-thousand five, transferred to Antarctica and stationed two-thousand six to two-thousand eleven, back to headquarters as a first contact field agent since then.”

“First contact field agent,” Natasha repeated.

“That sounds like something we should have when talking to aliens.” Clint dropped himself on her bed. “Young for a handler. What was he, twenty-seven?”

“Twenty-six.”

He pondered for a minute, “Romantic or just sex?”

“I wasn't getting the idea that he knew Coulson just because of sex. But it didn't seem romantic either,” she stated.

“So, they didn't date. Stationed together somewhere, maybe?”

“No sense. He might have talked to him about their time together. At least talked about SHIELD and try to defuse the situation.”

“Defuse?”

“He was actually getting angry with him.”

Clint sat up. “Was he slipping?” he inquired.

“Noticeable in his voice and posture. Face was still blank.”

That was intriguing. “Damn, what did this guy do to piss Coulson off?”

Natasha turned to face him, searches cleaned off. “Unknown, but we could always ask Myers.”

“You've been in the BPRD headquarters before?”

“No,” she admitted, “But there's always a first time for everything.”

The headquarters for the BPRD was a concrete building with a gate surrounding it, in New Jersey. A sign by the gate door stated it was 'Waste Management'. Each took shifts watching a trickle of agents going in and out. Sometimes, they would see a group going out with a garbage truck. “At least they have a theme,” Clint remarked.

They both came to the conclusion that most of the agents lived somewhere on the grounds. Myers only seemed to go out for shopping or with the groups. Sometimes, they would see him with the Junditto that no one thought to round up. Clint was kinda amused at something that acted similar to a dog. Natasha noticed it was highly loyal, going after agents that seemed to be threatening with Myers.

Their plan of simply breaking in was going to have to be altered. The building was more guarded than their computer security seemed to be. Also, most of the agents lived on the property. There wouldn't be a foolproof way that they could not be noticed. Instead, they were going to go with act like you belong and no one will question you.

They had false FBI badges in case they were stopped, but no one took a second look at them. Most just nodded and said hello as they walked by. A few false hallways (“What's that a deformed baby in a jar?” Clint asked. Natasha just pulled him along.) and they found the offices. John's was near the middle, easily unlocked.

They waited an hour for the agent to come back. He was balancing several files while muttering about researching through more books. The Junditto that was by his side whined at the new smell, but John wasn't paying attention. He sat down at his desk and went through a few papers before glancing up. “Ahh!” he yelled, pushing back from his desk.

“Calm down, Agent Myers,” Natasha directed, keeping her amusement on the inside, “We're just here to talk.”

“Oh,” he nodded frantically, moving back a little closer, “Okay. Uh, about what?”

“Agent Coulson,” Clint directed, “We wanna know about his reaction to you.”

His reaction was amusing, watching him fight about whether or not to tell them. After two minutes, he denied, “It's a personal matter between him and me. I rather not talk about it.”

“Are you sure they weren't together? Because he's acting like he had sex with him,” Clint directed at Natasha.

John choked on air, “You think I was with Phil?”

“You weren't?” she inquired.

“No! The last time I saw Phil, I was six, when we were all separated.”

Clint leaned forward. “Separated?”

“Yeah,” he said, “He's my brother.”

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