Thank You, God, for everything.
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Avengers. Hey, guys, guys, guise guise guise I'M NOT DEAD. As a matter of fact, I have been very busy. I currently have a very long over-thirty-thousand-word Host/Divergent crossover story stuffed safely away for finishing, and I'm publishing my own book! Like, a real life holy-crap-what-if-I-created-my-own-fandom-book. Anyways, this just sort of popped up and demanded to be written, for who can deny the awesomeness of Phil Coulson?
There was something very unprofessional in long names. Or so Phil thought. His name being just Phil, he was pleasantly pleased with it, and felt fine introducing himself to people. But then there was when he had to also name the agency he was representing:
"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."
It was a bit of a mouthful, to say the least.
And people would wonder why it was so long. But that was what its name was, and there wasn't much he could change about it.
Until he gave it a bit of thought.
He sat at his desk in the headquarters of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. He was writing on a piece of paper in front of him, awaiting a phone call from Fury, who was talking to the Council. He needed the call to notify him when his car was ready to head out to one of their secret locations, this particular one holding the Tesseract.
On his desk were action figures, picture frames with his family and then him at a young age holding a Captain America shield, and his Captain America shield, which was sprawled across his neat desk.
He was crossing out all the uncaptialized letters on the top of a form bearing the name of his organization.
He frowned at seeing the final letters. S, H, I, E, A, L, D.
He crossed out the A.
And a smile spread across his face.
How neat.
S.H.I.E.L.D.
His phone call came. He picked up the phone with new found cheerfulness, a hope that he would no longer have to say Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division in front of anyone anymore in him.
"Coulson, your ride's here. Fetch Hill and meet me downstairs in two," Fury said.
"Okay, sure, Director," Phil said. He cleared his throat and smiled excitedly. "Sir, I've just come up with something."
"And what is that?"
"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division is a bit of a mouthful, isn't it?" Phil said, tilting his head.
He could practically see Fury's slight nod.
"Sure. What about it?"
"I'm made it into acronyms, sir. Minus the 'and', it actually makes out a word. A short, and rather simple, word that fits in with our people." He glanced down at his childish toy and smiled harder, though remaining calm on the outside and professional.
"And what is it?"
"S.H.I.E.L.D., sir. How does that sound?"
A moment passed. Phil hoped that Fury wouldn't have to go and discuss this with the Council. They were never helpful. Just investers, really.
"You know, that might work. Make it work, Coulson. I'm allowing you to officially rename this organization. You've got a hell of a lot of paperwork and reconstructing to do, got it?"
Phil felt his chest swell with satisfaction. "Yes sir."
Fury said, sounding in agreement, "All right. Get your ride."
Phil placed the phone back on the desk when he was done, and he let out at a sigh as he placed his hands in his pockets and admired his Captain America paraphernalia once more. He deserved that much, didn't he?
And that was only one of the many marks that Phil Coulson left on the agency before his untimely death. If you had asked him what his best improvement on the agency was, he would have simply said:
"I think it might have been the time I named it."
Thank you for reading! God bless you!