The Consultants
The Idol

Authors note:-

With SHIELD over until the new season I can get back to this. Still, it takes place before the whole HYDRA uprising… and until I have an idea about how season 2 gets going I won't be including anything from the second half of the series. Not to say I don't have some ideas, I just want to make sure I and the actual writers aren't gong to contradict each other too much.

I will however write this, which when I had the idea I just had to write… Coulson meets his all time idol. The only spy that could possibly out Coulson the Coulson.


Phil Coulson caught himself in Lola's rear view mirror. Straightening his tie and smoothing down his hair he looked around. It was pretty much the idilic English manner house. Set at the foot of a hill, next to a small stream running through the grounds with trees and well kept meadows surrounding the building. There was even a hedge maze to one side and a small fountain bubbling away.

Idilic was the only way the jaded SHIELD agent could describe it. Parking Lola in the garage, set apart from both the house and the stables, Coulson looked at the company she was going to be keeping. A classic mark V Bentley, two Rolls Roycse masterpieces, a Phantom II & a Phantom V, and an E Type Jaguar. They were all pristine, perfect, but still looked like they had been driven recently. They might not have the aftermarket modifications Lola had, but they were each magnificent in their own way.

Patting the bonnet of his car he walked the gravel path up to the oversized house. Each footstep crunching reassuringly. It as obviously part of the security. Even if you some how got past the front gate you couldn't hope to sneak up to the building.

Coulson took off his sunglasses and waited for a moment. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he'd been expected, the gate was open, a spot had been made ready in the garage for Lola and most important of all he'd made it this far without challenge. Steadying himself for just who he was about to meet Phil put his glasses away and headed to the main door.

As he put his first foot on the solid stone steps leading there the door opened. Without any fuss or bother. Inside was a woman, in her mid sixties according to the file Coulson had memorised about her, standing patiently. 'Ma'am.' he nodded, resisting the urge to salute.

'Mr Coulson, do please come in. We've been expecting you.'

Not bothering to hide his lack of surprise Phil pulled himself straight and entered. 'Thank you. You know why I'm here?'

'Of course. He's just finishing off something in the library. If you could wait in the study.'

Phil nodded politely and followed her into the room about the size of the Helicarrier's command deck. 'You are late you know. You were due four minutes ago.' She told him. 'The tea has gone tepid.'

In some parts of England that was a capital offence. 'My apologies. I had some… difficulty with traffic.'

'We noticed.' She said with a wry smile. 'You didn't come for the tea though. Excuse me.' And with that she left. Phil, letting his instincts kick in, got the measure of the room. As well as being large it was well decorated and fantastically furnished. A large, dark green, leather sofa took up a section of the room. Two high backed chairs were either side of a large stone fireplace.

Around the room were antique suits of armour, Swords, pikes, axes and shields. The only things out of place from a museum was a well used desk, complete with bowler hat and the paintings. All done by the same artist, some were of landscapes, others dramatic military battles and a few, the largest and most well attended ones, were portraits. Six of them altogether, two men and four women. The women were all very different and very attractive, each of them recognisable from the files Coulson had read and one was obviously the woman that had just left. Everyone was accounted for, except the house's owner.

'I painted them myself.' An upper class english voice announced. 'It pays to have a hobby.' Phil turned around and was not ready for what he saw. The old man was frail, and very thin. Still in an immaculate suit, it hung off his tiny frame like it was three sizes too big. The once dark hair was snowy white and the handsome features he once had were tired and drooping. He was nothing like Coulson had expected. The old spy was in a motorised wheelchair and it rolled into the room. 'Philip Coulson, it's good to meet you. I understand you've been following my friends exploits for quite some time.'

'Yes sir, I have.' It was true. Steve Rodgers might have been his hero growing up, and still was today but this man… this man and his team had done things even SHIELD had thought were impossible. While most of the world worried about the Cold War he was saving it from everything including invasions, doomsday cults and mad scientists. It was obvious now though that after years, even decades in the field, he was still human. Captain Rodgers could have been spared those years trapped in a block of ice but this man hadn't had that luxury.

'Not quite what you expected? Age. Happens to all of us I'm afraid, but don't be fooled my good man.' With effort the old man pulled himself up. drawing an umbrella from the side of the chair the master-spy levered himself off and on to his own two feet. 'I might be old, but my mind's as sharp as it ever was. Sir John Steed. What can I do for my friends at the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division?'

End The Idol


Authors note.

I was playing with the idea of calling this one "The Avenger" but that was a little too on the nose. Again, if you're not familiar with the original John Steed and all you have to go off is that abysmal movie they did a few years back do yourself a favour and look the original show up. Especially if you love SHIELD.