"Is all of this really necessary?" I inquire Director Fury, as he looks through a folder with all of the details prevalent for my parents to know.

"Arden, of course it is. You are going to become one of the most valuable assets SHIELD has ever had. There is so much we are going to do with your help."

Correction (there is always something unspoken or reworded when Fury talks): my power's help. That's the reason SHIELD recruited me in the first place. I joined not because of my personal abilities, but because of the mutation I was born with.

"We need to make sure you're protected from other… interested parties, until you're a trained SHIELD agent, or at least until you've mastered your powers."

Correction: keep me protected from bad guys. They want to use me for my ability too. Only they want to use them for evil, which is a big no-no.

"Fair enough. But are you really going to put them undercover for the entire two years?" I ask.

"Of course Arden. We've already covered this. Now go finish packing the rest of your things. We have to meet the real estate agent in the loft at 2pm and then I have one last meeting with Principal Barnes to finalize the details of the plan."

"Fine" I mutter.

I sprint up the stairs into my old bedroom. Everything has already been packed into suitcases, they haven't moved since I packed them in June. There really isn't much. Just the things that weren't on the packing list for my summer of training, debriefing, and planning. Some pictures, my winter clothes, my books, movies, and CDs.

I hurriedly grab the two duffle bags and backpack, and rush back downstairs into the living room. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, and Bruce Banner sit on the couch, and Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton occupy the love seat. Fury stands by the front door and my parents stand in the doorway looking worried, confused, and slightly in shock. I guess it's hard for them to wrap their mind around the fact that their living room is filled with a bunch of superheroes.

The instant my feet hit the floor, Clint is standing up asking "Are you ready to go?"

I know stopping here is even more awkward for him and the rest of the team than it is for me.

"Yeah this is all the stuff I need." I tell him.

"Great. Let me help you." He grabs both the duffle bags "I'll go put these in the car."

He's out the door in seconds. "You guys head out, I'll be out in a bit." I tell the rest of the team.

"Goodbye Arden. We'll miss you. Call us every night and let us know whenever we're allowed to visit you." My parents tell me as they wrap me up in a tight hug.

I'll be living only about 45 minutes away from them, but I know I probably won't see my parents again for a long time.

They're my parents and I'm they're daughter, so I love them and they love me. But they have always been almost… afraid of me. But to be honest, what parents wouldn't be scared when their toddler started shooting fireballs out of her hands? I'm 16 now, and much more controlled, but it didn't help lessen my parent's fears that I might destroy the house in a rush of elements, be it fire, water, earth, or wind.

I bid my parents one last goodbye and head out the door. Most of the team is halfway to the car, with Clint already waiting in the driver's seat of the huge, black, SHIELD van.

"Barton, out of the driver's seat." Fury shouts.

"Come on Director, I got my license last year and you still haven't let me drive anywhere!"

"That's because I want to keep all of my limbs attached."

"Come on that was one time!" Clit whines.

I cock an eyebrow at him. I'd almost be genuinely worried about getting in a car with him behind the wheel, if I didn't know Clint so well.

"It was just a street dummy Director! And I only did it because Tony dared me too!"

Clint points over to Tony sauntering towards the car. "That's because I was drunk Birdboy."

"You're always drunk Stark" Clint shoots back.

"Touché."

"No buts, in the back seat Barton." Fury climbs into the driver's seat himself, while Clint climbs over the center console and takes the seat right next to me, making a pouty face.

"Ok is everyone read…?" Fury pauses when we spot Tony in the passenger seat, his door locked, sticking his tongue out at the others.

Steve is shouting "I called shotgun first!" Thor is making puppy dog eyes, and Bruce is just standing there looking angry, though thankfully not THAT angry.

"Get in the goddamned car!" the Director screams.

"Its like I work with a bunch of children!"

The three men clamber into the van, heads hung low, while Tony smirks from shotgun. "Actually sir," Natasha adds in from the seat on the other side of Clint "Arden and I are 16 and Clint is 17, so we are technically still children. I don't know what they're excuse is though." She gestures to the other Avengers.

Fury shakes his head as he pulls his head out of the driveway while Clint and I both snicker into our hands.