"I don't think I understand..." I murmured in response, shifting in the cuffs that restricted me at both ankle and wrist, making them clink quietly as the links in the chain rustled.
What had felt like an arrest, was turning out to be something else completely.
"Of course you don't," the man replied blithely, chucking the notepad down on the table with a clap; it slid across the frictionless metal surface into reading view.
Though the handwriting was scruffy, I could at last read it. Nick had listed off everything of value.
The man with his savage eyes and stormy demeanour lowered his long legs and leant forwards on the table. "My name is Nick Fury, and I'm the Director of an agency called S.H.I.E.L.D., we here at S.H.I.E.L.D. are in dire need of plucky young talent such as yourself to join our roster of agents. And I've never seen talent with a bow and arrow like yours before. I want to offer you a job," he said seriously.
I looked about, left and right and at the one way mirror behind him. "This is some kind of hoax right? There's a TV crew behind that one way mirror and I'm going to feature on national television in some brand new prank show..." I laughed up the notion.
"Can we please defrost the one way mirror?" Nick Fury - or so he claimed - said.
The mirrored glass became transparent at his command; it seemed like nothing short of science fiction. Behind it, Agent Coulson was being rebuked by another agent: A man with a squared jawline, sandy blond hair that curled neatly over his face in a greased curve with freckles dusting his face. The senior agent's two deep blue eyes, winged by laughter lines, were locked on an apologetic looking Phil Coulson.
"Coulson, Alexander, could you give us a wave and prove to little Clint here that we're not kidding?" Fury requested in his daunting voice.
Alexander - the older of the two - gave a small wave, and prompted by Alexander, Phil did too; sheepishly. Then Alexander turned to speak into a small microphone situated in the office-like booth behind the one-way mirror. "Tell ... .... ... medical exam," he spoke - but unable to see his lips, and the quality of the sound system, poor, I missed most of the sentence.
"Alright, alright," Fury chuckled, holding his hands up in a mock surrender. "We're getting to it."
"I'm lost," I uttered. "If you're offering me a job: why the arrest? Why all the cloak and dagger stuff? Why the handcuffs?" I jiggled them to make them jangle; demonstrating my point.
"Because you're a very dangerous, or should I say, capable individual, Clint. We've been watching you for some time now, right from the moment you pulled off the Robin Hood shot at the carnival in Iowa. And I have to say; we lost track of you for a while, but you were easy enough to track down once again - especially with the peak in crime rates wherever that damn carnival went - and once that blurry picture of you was splashed across tabloid covers nationwide, we tracked you consistently. You even made the six o'clock news! Then after the wedding rescue there was the incident with the muggers and petty thieves, then there was the stunt at the archery shop and-"
"Woah! Woah!" I shifted in the manacles and waved his monologue to a swift conclusion. "Have you been spying on me?"
"We are spies. That's what we do. And it's our job as the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division to keep tabs on gifted people like you. In the wrong hands, you're a threat, Clint. In our hands, and in our eyes, you're an asset." He smiled at me; borderline pleasantly. "That's why we're offering you a job."
I was gobsmacked, I sat there with my mouth agape, fumbling for a retort. Nothing came out. "What would the job entail; I can't just accept it on a whim. I have things to consider, I'll have you know! I don't even know who you are!" I said stubbornly.
"Ah, 'things to consider'..." Nick mused and chuckled. "You mean Katherine Bishop and that dog you stole."
I rolled my eyes and slackened in the chair. "Okay, first things first, I didn't steal the damn dog; I-"
"-Rescued it? We know..." Nick steepled his fingers thoughtfully and smirked. "Here's the deal, Clint: The police have started a manhunt for a bow and arrow wielding vigilante who has been spotted on multiple occasions around New York - upstate and City. They have witnesses now. Leads. You haven't been all that careful. Your stunt at the pizza shop wasn't covert in the slightest and they're getting closer and closer to hunting you down and throwing your ass in jail for GBH and attempted murder..." Nick said sternly. "I can make all of that go away. You work for me, you get to do what you love; archery; and you get to put it to good use by tackling felons that we ask you to target. You get paid. You get accommodation. You get police immunity..." And the offer sounded so appealing. "Or, on the flipside, you go back to living with Miss Bishop in Manhattan, the police bang on your door in a couple days and shoot you on sight for resisting arrest, as you undoubtedly will: essentially what Coulson should've done today. Sharing an apartment must be lovely, considering the nature of Miss Bishop's company, but you're worth more than a flat share, and outlaw vigilante work, Clint..." He stared at me, his gaze drilling into my own and I took a deep breath. "Thoughts?"
I nodded mutely. "A lot to take in..." And honestly, a few parts of that monologue I nearly missed; the speed at which he spoke was tricky to follow at points, and his voice was of a register that didn't bode well with my ears. From what I had managed to grasp, the decision was a no brainer. I was almost putting myself in grave peril if I didn't accept the offer.
The job offer almost sounded like a threat if I read it the right way.
Nick must've noticed how I had been spoken into submission. I felt like a deer in the headlights. "Can I be personal for a second and talk to you on better terms?" Nick beckoned the door and a uniformed agent was buzzed in. He strode over to my chair and unlocked the cuffs on both of my wrists.
"Thank you," I hissed, massaging the sensation back into my skin where the metal had bitten down into my skin, leaving indents where they had sat. "By all means."
"No problem..." That's when Fury began to speak a language I understood better. 'Did you know you're eighty percent deaf?' his hands moved with poise and precision. I didn't expect him to know ASL, much less speak to me with it. I felt humbled: respected.
'Eighty? No.' I signed back at him.
'The medical exam we performed while you were out cold revealed a head injury you sustained long ago caused you to lose your hearing. That's what Alexander was talking about, though, I'm not sure you caught all of it.' Nick was looking on at me sympathetically as his hands spoke the words. 'Whatever decision you happen to make regarding employment, I can promise you as a perk, that when you leave here, we will fix your hearing for you. We can fix that for you. Consider it a token of our gratitude for your almost total cooperation.'
I couldn't help my reaction. I welled up; tears collecting in my eyes and sticking to my eyelashes. "Thank you..." I whispered in a tearful voice and I tried to swallow down the lump in my throat. "I was sure it wasn't fixable; and I'd never get the money together for some decent hearing aids..." I laughed at myself, at how vulnerable I sounded.
"You're very welcome, Clint," Fury said aloud. "Something tells me that injury has been bothering you for a very long time." Though the man seemed hard as nails when he first walked in, it was clear he had a compassionate and less calculating capacity. The way he looked at me was less like a cocked gun, then. He looked touched.
The first tears spilled down my cheeks and I felt pathetic. "Since I was twelve..." I muttered, fending off the tears. I batted them away and mopped them up with the heel of my hand.
"And you're - what? - nearly eighteen?" Fury guesstimated, and I nodded. "Must've been difficult..." Seeing I was hyper-emotional, he had the sense to progress the conversation. "Any thoughts about my offer?"
I nodded fervently, smiling through the tears. "I'll accept it on a few conditions..." I dabbed my eyes with my sleeve.
"Name it."
"You say I'll be lodged with you? Or, your agency, rather..?" I rewound the conversation a few moments. Nick nodded. "If I am to lodge with you, I get to explain where I'm going, say goodbye to Kate, and keep my puppy," I demanded. "Kate is owed an explanation. She deserves it this time. And Lucky needs me."
"You stuck with calling dog Lucky?" Fury chuckled heartily and shook his head. "Poor dog," he muttered; then looked to Alexander over his shoulder who gave a shrug and a nod. "Those conditions are fine by us, so long as you are discreet about describing what work you have. Just like those old bond movies, this is a secret service."
"It's a deal..." I thrust a hand out across the table as I had done to customers in Barton's Butchers all the way back home in Waverly; and as Nick clasped it with a sincere shake, the transaction was sealed.
"Pleasure working with you, Clint... Apologies, but this may make you feel a little nauseous when you wake up." And the same aerosol that had been used on me being transported here; was used to knock me out cold.
"Wait, wait! How will I contact you..." Drowsiness was fast overcoming me. "When I..." My vision was receding inwards. "... I'm ready to come back..?" My eyes were fluttering as I fought to keep them open.
Nick stood over me, beckoning S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to transport me out. "We'll contact you, Clint..." His voice was distorted as the drugs took hold of me. "See you soon..."His voice echoed in the halls of my head.
The last thing I saw before I drifted off into the land of the sandman was Nick Fury smiling down at me.
~
Where did I wake up? In a heap outside of Kate's door, still in my comedic carnival apparel, smidgeons of gravel and dirt dotted in my hair and on my clothing. Beside me lay my tools of the trade that had got me ravelled in this yarn in the first place.
"What time do you call this?! I was beginning to worry! What in the world happened to you?!" Kate gasped, trotting over in her heels, evidently just having arrived home from work.
I could hear the slight noise of her heels.
"I have no idea what the time is..." I groaned, stretching out my initially unresponsive limbs. I heard my joints clicking as I rolled my shoulders and flexed my fingers. My muscles felt knotted with the tribulations of my crime fighting hobby and my ankles and wrists were still sore from the cuffs that had been eating into me. "The craziest thing... I need a cup of coffee..."
Kate unlocked the door with a squeak, and helped me hobble into the flat. I swayed my way to the sofa before dropping like a stone.
Immediately my pup came running for me, I heard the scrabbling of Lucky's paws on the floor and his excitable yapping as he skidded across the linoleum floor and jumped into my arms.
"Hey there, boy... Hey there..." Mindful of his injuries I cuddled and stroked him, smothering him with kisses and hugs.
I could hear the beeping of the buttons as she set the coffee pot to work, and the chugging and choking as it concocted the steaming drink.
There was a clatter as Kate removed the mugs from the cupboard and a clunk as she placed them down on the worktop.
"Kate..." I said quietly, and I could properly hear the sound of my voice - not just the sound of the reverberations through my skull. It had been so long I almost didn't recognise it. With puberty my timbre had changed too, it was bizarre.
"Yeah?" She replied, her voice crystal clear.
"I, uh..." I was still getting used to the sound of my own voice as I spoke - my vocal chords coordinated with my ears. "I got a job," I explained, and I heard a smash resound from the kitchen. "Are you alright?" I asked, turning to face her where she was now sweeping up fragments of porcelain with a dustpan and brush.
"Are you alright?!" She volleyed. "You actually got a job?!" She spluttered, emptying what she had collected into the trash; the separate chunks made plinking noises as they dropped into the near-empty bin.
"Yeah, and... It looks like I'm going to have to move out..." I replied, awaiting an accident to follow that incredible statement too.
Silence drew between the pair of us, and for the first time, I realised just how noisy New York City was. I could hear the distant howl of sirens, I could hear the rumble of passing cars down below, and I could hear the tooting of horns in the distant traffic. It was an apogee of ambience worthy of an orchestra.
Instead of congratulating me, Kate just nodded wordlessly; looking inconsolable.
"Katie, I'm sorry... I thought you'd be happy," I said quietly, my expression just as abysmal as hers. I left the sofa, nudging Lucky onto the couch cushions and went to wrap Kate up in my arms. "I thought you'd be pleased to have me out of your hair at last? Instead of having me late on my half of the rent, forgetting to grab the pizza from the pizza parlour and bringing home stray animals."
Kate choked out a sob and buried her face in the crook of my neck. I stroked a hand up and down her back, and even Lucky trotted over to snuggle up to her; posting his head between our legs. The morose feeling infected the whole room. "I might have been proud of you for getting a job a week ago; hell - I might even have been pleased you were moving out... But now I feel like I need the company; I need you, Clint. You can't leave me again." I could feel her tears soaking into my costume, damp against my skin.
I lamented with her, kissing her on the top of her head. "I know, Katie. I'm so sorry..." I felt torn and forlorn, really I did - but how could I possibly tell her of the likelihood I would be shot down by the police in the next few days if I didn't hand myself - lend my resources - to a higher government body. "This is for the best I promise you..."
Kate nodded, nuzzling closer and intertwining her arms around my back.
It physically pained me that I couldn't tell her the full truth; that I was deserting her under false pretences. I'd never forgive myself; though I hoped one day I could come clean.
I glanced down at the blond bundle of fur at our feet and an unspeakable idea came to mind.
"You can have Lucky. I don't want you ever feeling alone again."
Kate just bawled more violently, her shoulders jumping and her chest heaving and convulsing with her sobs. "When do you leave?" She gargled, choking around her mewls and sniffles; her voice crackled off until her words were broken.
"As soon as possible."
A/N - I'm going to have to start writing again soon! I'm almost out of pre-written chapters..! I'm off to Englefield Estate today, which to those less versed in English stately homes - such as myself - is also known as Xavier Mansion. If you follow my Instagram (@pansexualcharles) I can promise my feed will be full of photos of where 'First Class' was filmed!
Dedication when I'm not busy! X