Stark

I met Coulson at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ very early the next morning. I was issued my ID badge and handed the Stark file.

"I will give you a quick rundown on the situation when we're in the jet," Coulson promised. We were interrupted by an African American man wearing an eye patch.

"Coulson," the man greeted. He looked to me briefly, before flicking his eyes back to Coulson.

"Sir," Coulson greeted. "Stark's plane touches down at Edwards in three hours. Do you want a full debrief?"

The man nodded. "If possible. Don't push too hard. We don't want to ring any alarm bells. I just want to know whose side he's on."

"You really think he turned?" Coulson asked.

The man shrugged. "I think he was in that cave a long time." He turned around. "I don't buy the story about the terrorist's ammo dump just accidentally exploding. Something went down. I need to know if we have a mole running Stark Industries. Going over their financials raised a lot of red flags. Find out whether Stark is heading for white collar prison or the electric chair. I'm trusting you. Both of you." He addressed that last part to me as well. "You came with high recommendations, Agent Benson. Let's see if you deserve them." With that, he turned and left.

I turned to Coulson, questioningly.

He shrugged. "Director Fury has a flair for the dramatics."


While we were on the jet and I got over the fact that I had just met one of the most powerful men in the country, Coulson filled me in on what had been happening with Tony Stark's kidnapping. Apparently, being as he was the USA's top weapon's contractor, S.H.I.E.L.D. became concerned when he was kidnapped in enemy territory in Afghanistan. They were initially worried because Stark could potentially hand over military secrets to terrorist groups, whether voluntarily or under pressure. When there was no ransom demand, the threat became whether Stark would be forced to build the terrorists weapons that could be used against the United States.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has been over the Stark Industries financials and things just aren't adding up, logically and numerically. Our job is to debrief Stark and find out exactly what happened to him in that cave. We need to know if he told them anything and if he built them anything."

I nodded. "But we aren't allowed to push too hard? So, what? If he says he doesn't want to talk, we back off a bit?"

Coulson nodded. "For now. If he dodges us more than twice, we'll have to become more insistent."

"Okay," I said, understanding. I went quiet for a moment. "Coulson? What did Director Fury mean I'd come highly recommended?"

Coulson looked over. "You apparently made quite an impression on one of our specialists."

I understood. "Barton? Agent Barton recommended me?" I asked, incredulously.

He nodded. "I haven't had a new agent in over two years, but I trust Agent Barton's judgement. He told me that you have the potential to become one of the best field agents S.H.I.E.L.D. has seen in a while. You're fast, you think on your feet, you're instinctive and you're persistent. Your mutation is just an added bonus, I assure you."

I blinked. "Barton got all that from an hour long hand to hand combat session?"

"Barton's one of the best," Coulson stated. "He knows a like mind when he sees it."


We got to the press conference with a few moments to spare. Those jets were really something. During S.H.I.E.L.D. ops training, I'd started to get attached to the technology. If I wasn't too careful, I'd become like one of those guys who married their cars.

We spotted Miss Potts, straight away, recognising her from the photo attached to the file I'd been given earlier.

"Miss Potts?" Coulson asked, walking up to her.

"Yes," the woman confirmed.

"May we speak with you a moment?" he asked.

"I'm not part of the press conference," she deferred. "But it is about to start in a moment..."

"We aren't reporters," Coulson replied. "I'm Agent Phil Coulson, this is Agent Bridget Benson. We're with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

Miss Potts raised her eyebrows. "That's quite a mouthful."

"I know," he smiled. "We're working on it."

"We've been approached already by the DOD, the FBI, the CIA..."

"We're a separate division with a more specific focus," Coulson explained. "We need to debrief Mr Stark on the circumstances of his escape."

Miss Potts nodded. "I'll put something in the book, shall I?" she said, but I could tell she was just humouring us.

"Thank you," Coulson agreed.

Stark then began the press conference by asking everyone to sit so that he wouldn't have to stand, which, for someone who looked as bad as he did, was understandable.

As he talked, I started to frown slightly and, by the time he finished, my eyes widened in shock. I turned to Coulson.

"Did he just..?"

Coulson looked just as shocked. "Miss Potts," he said, turning to her. "Does he..?"

"I'll let Mr Stark's comments speak for themselves," she replied, but she looked shaken, also.


We made it back to New York by late afternoon. Director Fury was there to greet us. The press conference would have aired by now.

Coulson filled Fury in on what had happened. "I just don't get why. What does Stark gain from this? His stock is going to hit the floor."

Fury hummed in agreement. "What was your take on Miss Potts?" he asked.

"Very smart," Coulson replied. "She could probably run that company herself."

Fury nodded, turning to me. "What was your impression, Agent Benson?"

"Of Miss Potts?" I asked, surprised at being asked. "Loyal. Definitely loyal to Stark, but she did seem as blindsided as everyone else."

"Okay, keep an eye on them," Fury ordered us both. He turned and walked away.


We submitted a brief report on what had happened that day and went home. Kate and Darren were both there when I got in.

"Bridge!" Darren called. "You're just in time. We were about to call for pizza."

"Pepperoni!" I called over my shoulder as I walked to the bathroom. I needed a shower.

"How was Malibu?" Kate called after me.

"Good! How was the office?" I teased.

The shower felt great after a day on the jet and then in hot and sweaty California.

When I returned to the living room, Kate accosted me again, dragging me down to sit on the couch.

"Seriously," she said. "How was it? How was Coulson? Do you have any idea who he is?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Darren looked over at us from the other couch. "Coulson is Fury's right hand man," he stated. "Your SO is the Director's favourite."

I sighed. "I kinda figured that out when Fury met us before we left this morning."

They both stared at me wide-eyed.

"You met Director Fury?" Kate asked. "I'm not sure whether or not I'm jealous of you right now."

"Don't be," I muttered. "He's rather intimidating."


A few days later, Coulson and I were given a new assignment.

"Twelve year old pyro mutant, unable to control her powers. She keeps getting more upset and her powers just get more out of control," Coulson explained as we walked to the jet. "She's already burned down three buildings and half a park."

"Poor kid," I murmured.

Coulson nodded. "Our job is to get close enough to sedate her so that we can deliver her to Xavier. I will have the tranq gun and I want you to try and contain the fires and keep her in one place so I can get the shot. Is that clear?" he asked.

I nodded. I could definitely do that. This would be my first proper mission. I wouldn't screw it up.


I screwed it up, was my first thought when I woke up in medical. I turned my head slightly, being careful of the pain in my skull, to see Coulson sat in the chair beside my bed.

"If you weren't coming out of a two day coma," he said scathingly, as soon as he saw I was awake. "I would be tempted to shoot you right now." He glared at me. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

"I needed to make sure you could take the shot," I murmured. "The girl needed to get home to her family. I would've been fine if I hadn't left my glucose in the van. And by the time I realised, it was too late to back out. But I promised her family she'd make it home."

Coulson's lips thinned. "And what about your family, Benson? Did you ever think of that? You could've died out there! What about making sure you got home to your family?"

I shook my head, which was still slightly foggy. "I don't have one. They're gone."

Coulson went quiet, looking down at the floor for a moment, before returning his gaze to me. "As long as you are my agent, Bridget Benson, you make sure you come home to me. You got that?"

Then he got up and left, leaving me speechless.

I found out from a nurse that I had been in medical for two days and that Coulson had barely left my side the entire time.

It was a lot to take in, but it seemed now, eleven years after having lost the original ones, I had just gained a new parent...


I was returned to active duty the next day, when my sugar levels were normalised and I passed the cognitive tests, and I immediately went to find Coulson.

He was in the command room with Fury, discussing Stark again. When they noticed me, Fury greeted me.

"Benson, I see you're better." He didn't mention the incident that landed me in medical bay. He probably knew I'd gotten the third degree from Coulson, earlier. "Your mutant made it to Xavier's. I got confirmation this morning." He sighed. "I have to deal with a rash of U.A.V. sightings."

"Unmanned Arial Vehicles?" I asked.

"Fury, we've got a visual!" an agent called from the other side of the room.

We walked over and watched the screens as what looked like a man-shaped drone travelled along the west coast. Fury and Coulson debated whether the thing was remote controlled or whether there was a man in that thing. Fury went quiet for a moment, and then ordered to see the surveillance from the Kunar Province.

We watched the surveillance of the terrorist's ammo exploding and saw an image in the edge of the explosion.

"It's Stark."


Coulson and I were attending the Third Annual Firefighter's Fund Gala. He was in a slightly fancier suit and I was in a royal blue dress I had purchased for the occasion.

We tracked down Stark at the bar.

"Mr. Stark?" I asked, being the first to reach him.

"Yeah?" he replied, barely looking round.

"Agent Benson and Agent Coulson," I told him.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. The guys from the..."

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division," Coulson finished.

"God, you need a new name for that," Stark murmured into his scotch.

"Yeah, we hear that a lot," Coulson replied. "Listen, I know this must be a trying time for you, but we need to debrief you."

I continued. "There are still a lot of unanswered questions, and time can be a factor with these things," I explained.

Stark nodded, but he was no longer paying us his full attention, instead looking out across the room.

"Let's just put something on the books," Coulson continued. "How about the 24th at 7:00 p.m. at Stark Industries?"

"Tell you what," Stark said, holding out his hand in turn for us to shake, still not looking at us. "You got it. You're absolutely right. Well, I'm going to go to my assistant, and we'll make a date." He turned and left.

Coulson looked at me. I shrugged. "We got a date. Whether or not he remembers is a different issue."


A few days later, Coulson, Fury, and I were in a small town in the Middle East called Gulmira. The place had been host to a terrorist attack the day before, to be saved by what we were sure was Stark in, we found when we moved a surveillance tape, what appeared to be upgraded armour.

"He made a point of destroying those Jericho missiles," I pointed out, after the video had finished.

Fury nodded. "He knows we're onto him. Maybe he was just trying to wipe out any evidence of his involvement..."

An agent interrupted by calling out from the van. "Fury! Your bogey's just been sighting engaging some F-22 Raptors."

We quickly piled into the van, watching the video feed.

"If he gives those boys anything as much as a nose bleed, I'll make those three months in that cave seem like Club Med," Fury snarled.

"He's attempting to evade, rather than engage," Coulson commented.

We watched as a pilot had to evacuate his jet.

"The parachute's stuck," Fury noticed.

We watched Stark race to the falling pilot, unjamming his chute.

"He exposed himself to fire in order to open the chute manually and save that pilot," Coulson remarked. "Do you think he's just afraid to upset the military, or..?"

Fury was quiet for a moment, looking at the paused video screen. "You know what I think? I think we may have this wrong." He looked up at the two of us. "I think that someone has been playing us."

Fury walked to the van's exit, looking back at us from the doorway.

"I think that Obadiah Stane has been very forthcoming on information on Tony Stark, to say that Stark is supposed to be like a son to him..." Coulson nodded. "We're going back stateside. You two keep your appointment at Stark Industries."


Coulson and I were sat in chairs in Stark Industries' lobby, waiting for Miss Potts to become available. I was just about to walk to reception to ask again when I saw her coming down the stairs, shoulders tense, staring straight ahead.

"Miss Potts?" Coulson asked, standing. "We had an appointment. Did you forget..?"

"Nope, right now. Come with me," she said briskly, not even slowing down.

"Right now?" Coulson asked, surprised.

"We're going to have it right now," she confirmed. "Yeah, walk with me."

I fell into step on one side of her, Coulson on the other. Something was up and we both could sense it. Miss Potts was scared.

"I'm going to give you the meeting of your life," she promised. "Your office."


It took us only ten minutes to reach the S.H.I.E.L.D. office in Malibu. Miss Potts handed over a flash drive, which she claimed contained information from the Stark Industries mainframe that Stark had asked her to retrieve, as well as proof that Stane was building his own suit to rival Stark's.

We looked it all over and felt cold.

Coulson had started to call Fury before we had even finished reading it all.

"Sir? You were right. It was Stane. He's been funnelling arms to the Ten Rings." He started pacing. "I'm scrambling to get a team together now, but it gets worse... He's building his own suit."

Miss Potts was on her own cell, trying to contact Stark. "Tony?" she said. "Tony?" she repeated. After a few seconds, she ended the call, looking up at me. "He picked up, but didn't answer. What does that mean?"

I couldn't think of anything to say that would have made her feel any better.


We assembled a small team of agents and pulled up outside the building Miss Potts directed us to approximately 15 minutes later. We followed her into the building as she swiped her pass to gain entrance.

"Section sixteen, section sixteen," she murmured, looking around as she walked across the room. "There it is," she said, spotting it.

She swiped her pass. It didn't work. She swiped it again.

"It's not working. I should have access to everything."

Coulson looked to me. "Benson, can you..?"

I nodded. Knowing that finesse wasn't the issue here, I created a small force field between the door and the doorframe and rapidly expanded it, ripping the door out of the frame forcefully.

"That works," Miss Potts murmured, looking at me, her eyes full of questions, but knowing now was not the time.

We walked cautiously down the stairs, guns out. Miss Potts remained in the middle of our group, with Coulson, myself, and another agent in front, and three more agents behind her.

We turned a corner and spotted a suit, very similar to the first one we saw Stark wearing,

"You were right," Coulson told her. "He was building a suit."

I looked at it. "I thought it would be bigger."

"Benson, with me," Coulson ordered. I followed him as he jumped over the railing and started to check the room for Stane or any other threats.

We didn't get very far before we heard Miss Potts scream and the sound of gunfire. We ran back to the source of the noise, only to be blindsided as the wall in front of us caved in, debris hitting my head before I could react and knocking me out.


I came around to Miss Potts running towards us.

"We have to get out of here, right now!" she insisted. An explosion behind her proved how right she was. Coulson wasn't conscious yet, so I formed a field around him and ran with Miss Potts, Coulson trailing just behind us. We managed to just clear the building as the whole thing exploded. I instinctively shielded us all from the blast.

As the explosion died down, I left Coulson, chasing after Miss Potts who was frantically trying to find Stark. She found him collapsed against some railing on the roof.

"Thank God, he's alive," she cried.

I noticed the flickering device in his chest. "Is that thing still working?" I asked, concerned.

"Barely," she whispered. Then she looked up. "Oh no. If Tony's still alive, then Obadiah could be-"

She was interrupted when an object came whizzing over our heads and into the hole into the building below.

I looked over to see Coulson limping towards us. "Don't worry. If he's still alive, that will take care of him." He looked over to Stark. "I'm more concerned about what tomorrow will bring."


Fury was reading a newspaper in the break room of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Malibu HQ when we got back after briefing Stark on his cover story the next day. The press conference was just beginning on the television on the wall.

"Iron Man," he read. "Catchy. We should trademark it."

"Already done, sir," Coulson surprised me by saying. "All related domains have been purchased, also."

"Stark has been briefed on his cover story," I informed Fury.

I looked up at the television just as Stark deviated from his cover story by saying: "The truth is... I am Iron Man."

I slumped down in the nearest chair in exasperation.

Coulson scowled. "We told him to stick to the statement. He-"

"-did exactly what I expected him to," Fury stated. We both looked to him in surprise.

"That cover story was specially created by the psych boys for Stark to reject. I don't need a yes man. I need someone who is gonna make the right call, doesn't care about odds and rewrites rules on the fly. Stark has the potential to become a great asset... If he can do it under pressure, with the world watching." He paused. "He passed the test."

"I'm speechless, sir," Coulson admitted.

"First time for everything," Fury grinned. He turned to me. "Great work, Benson. Guess the rumours about you were true. Keep up the good work. Oh, and the two of you, take the rest of the week off." He began to walk out of the room. "I have to go see a man about the future of our country."


My first Thanksgiving as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, I was abandoned by both Darren and Kate. Kate's parents were dragging her to Chicago to visit family and Darren had been invited to spend Thanksgiving with his SO. I hadn't ever spent a Thanksgiving alone. I considered going up to Westchester, but Dr. Grey-Summers was away at a conference in Berlin and wouldn't be back until the following Monday.

"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?" I asked Coulson, a few days before the date. I swung my feet up onto his desk, trying to get comfy in the obscenely stiff chair Coulson kept in his office, in my opinion to ward off visitors.

He looked over at me from the stack of paperwork covering his desk. I wasn't actually convinced he did this paperwork, or that any of it had a purpose. I was certain that he just kept it there so he could look busy if anyone unimportant came to talk to him.

"My sister and her husband invited me," he replied, knocking my feet off of his desk. "Sit up straight," he scowled. "You're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, not a moody teenager."

I huffed, loudly, just to annoy him slightly, but he just rolled his eyes.

"Do you have plans?" he asked.

"Huh?" I was too busy righting myself in the torture device – for that's what I'm sure it was – to pay proper attention. "Oh. Yeah. Plans. You know. General Thanksgivingy plans." I lied. I'm not sure why I lied. Maybe I just didn't want him to feel sorry for me. "Dr. Grey-Summers invited me to Westchester." The lies just kept coming. I didn't know what was wrong with me.

Coulson seemed to accept this, and let it drop. I tried to put my foot up on his desk again but, without even looking at me, and without even seeming to move, he had his gun pointed at me.

"Okay, okay. Jeez!" I put my foot down on the floor and made a resolution to buy him a comfier chair for Christmas.


Thursday morning rolled around and I had planned a full day: Chinese microwave meals and marathonning Firefly in my pyjamas; the start of a new Thanksgiving tradition.

I was interrupted during the pilot episode by a knock on the door. I opened it and was surprised to see Coulson on the other side.

"Get dressed," he ordered. "You have five minutes."

I blinked. "W-wha-?"

"Four minutes, fifty seconds," Coulson barked.

Used to following his orders, I dashed into my bedroom and pulled jeans and a sweater on. I came back into the living room, hopping as I tried to put on my sneakers and walk at the same time.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"You're coming with me to Thanksgiving dinner," he told me, his voice warning me that there would be no arguments.

My mouth dropped open. "B-but..."

He turned and walked down the hallway. I stood still for a second before kicking into gear, grabbing my cell and purse, dashing after him.

Coulson was getting into his car when I reached the street. I noticed there was someone else in the passenger seat, so I got into the back.

Barton glanced at me from the seat next to me.

"You lied about having Thanksgiving plans." He tutted. "Coulson doesn't like that."

I sighed. "I figured."

Romanov snorted from the passenger seat.


Laura Fisher née Coulson was a slim woman in her thirties with long, dark hair, who was obviously used to her brother bringing strays home for Thanksgiving. She didn't even hesitate when Coulson introduced me; she just pulled me into a hug and introduced me to her husband, Daniel, who grabbed Coulson to show him a new Captain America card he had found. She tried to introduce me to her kids, but said kids had spotted Barton and Romanov.

"Uncle Clint! Auntie Nat!"

Barton was almost bowled over as a small child ran across the room and jumped him.

"Hey, monster!" he greeted, grabbing the kid and swinging him up into his arms.

Romanov had managed to grab the younger girl and was now giving her a hug as she gabbled away to her 'Auntie Nat' about how she had built the tallest tower ever out of Lego.

Laura laughed. "The monster attacking Clint is Cooper. He's five. The chatterbox with Nat is Lila. She's three."

I nodded, smiling. "I gather those two come here often, then?"

Laura nodded. "All the major holidays. Clint's been around since before I had Cooper. Nat followed when he had his first Christmas." She looked at me. "Phil likes to collect people. Not in a bad way," she said, hurriedly. "He just has a knack for finding people who... he can take care of. He's done it his whole life. Practically raised me," she told me.

The kids detached themselves from Barton and Romanov and looked over at me, shyly.

"Guys," their mother said. "This is Bridget; she works with Uncle Phil, like Uncle Clint and Auntie Nat."

The kids seemed to take this in stride and before I knew it, I had a child attached to each arm and they were dragging me to their playroom.

Within an hour, I was covered in glitter, had several felt tip tattoos and had helped build a Lego mansion.

By dinnertime, I was Auntie Bridge.

When it was time to say goodbye, I cried a little. I made promises to come for Christmas and was hugged to within an inch of my life by both children and Laura. I shared a handshake with Daniel.

We got into the car. Barton and I didn't even bother calling shotgun. We weren't willing to fight Romanov over it. As we got strapped in and Coulson turned the engine on, he turned to me.

"Don't lie to me again," he said.

I nodded. "I promise."


For Christmas, I bought him a comfier chair.

He replaced his own with it.

The torture device remained.

Mocking me.