Day: 141 - January 20, 2012

Phil slouched at the desk in his suite, rubbing his temples as he stared mindlessly at the muted TV, his brow twisting down into a frown on one side and up into incredulity on the other.

"Clint…. no," he murmured as the hundred and fifty foot lizard stomped across the screen, flattening several Toyotas that lined the harbor street.

"Sorry, Pepper," he apologized with a sigh. "I was reviewing the footage." he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes in an effort to focus on the voice on the other end of the phone line.

"No," he replied, pausing. "No, Tony's generosity aside, they need to stop expecting him to clean up their messes for them." He made a face at the TV as Steve landed on the creature's head, pummeling it with his shield. He rolled his eyes.

"Well if they don't want their cities destroyed they need to stop funding AIM's insane science projects." Phil insisted. "Pepper, my dear, wonderful, charming friend. I absolutely demand, on the strength of our mutual, deep affections that you not give those idiots a single red cent in assistance." Phil's face crumpled as Thor smacked the creatures toes with Mjölnir to distract it from Iron Man trying to cut off its tail with his repulsers.

"Yes, of course," Phil nodded with a hint of resignation. "Use your surreptitious charitable accounts like you normally do. Yes, Pepper." He rested his head on his blotter.

"No, of course I'm not mad," he declared, and to his credit he did not sound the least put out. "Yes, I adore you too… lunch, yes… tomorrow… yes… bye." He pulled the earbud from his ear without raising his head, letting out his breath in a long, exasperated sigh that made him melt further into the oak desk.

"Agent Coulson, I wonder if I could have a moment?" It was the tentative tone of the question more than anything else that convinced him not to play dead and Phil drew in a steadying breath before pushing himself upright. He paused for just a moment at a properly professional posture before finally giving an internal 'to hell with it' and sprawling back in his overstuffed desk chair to stare blankly at the ceiling.

"Of course, Jarvis, what can I do for you?" he asked, monotoned.

"I'm terribly sorry to impose," the AI answered uneasily. "But I was wondering if you might be able to offer me some guidance in regard to Ms. Marshall." Phil blinked three times before slowly sitting up. The giant lizard on the TV diverted his attention for just a moment and he reached for the remote, punching the off button with prejudice before carefully folding his hands on his desk.

"Bryn, the courier?" he clarified.

"Yes," Jarvis confirmed. "You've met her, I'm sure." the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Phil's mouth.

"Yes," he nodded. "I've spoken to her a couple of times. I thanked her for looking out for Clint while I was recovering."

"I'm," Jarvis flat out hesitated a moment and Phil's eyebrows arched in surprise but he said nothing. "I believe I'm having difficulties maintaining a delineation between professional interest in an employee and personal protectiveness of a friend."

Phil stared blankly at the wall that held the now dark TV as long slow seconds ticked by.

"Agent Coulson?" Jarvis prompted with a hint of unease.

"I'm sorry, Jarvis, you just surprised me," he stated, the first real smile easing the furrows from his brow. "I'm a little curious why you're coming to me and not Pepper or Tony."

"I'll freely admit that my experience in human interaction is somewhat limited," Jarvis confessed seriously. "but even I have observed that sir is hardly a paragon of balance." Phil bit his lip to keep from laughing as he ducked his head.

"And I have observed Ms. Potts struggle with the same difficulties with Sir for several years now," Jarvis added as Phil wrestled his expression back into a neutral one. "You, on the other hand have maintained a close friendship with both Agent Barton and Agent Romanov for some time and I have never once detected any adverse affect to your operations in the field. I felt you were better equipped to offer direction." Phil let out a huff of amusement, the set of his shoulders easing slightly.

"Thank you," he replied sincerely. "That's, well, it's quite a compliment. It's not always an easy balance to maintain. Is there something specific that's bothering you? We can start there."

"In the last three weeks there have been four daylight armed robberies in areas along Ms. Marshall's normal travel routes." Jarvis supplied, activating several holoprojections with accompanying news reports for reference. "I find myself increasingly anxious when her duties take her down these streets in particular, despite the fact that I know she has adequate self defense training and is carrying a weapon." Phil's eyes scanned the articles and he frowned, shaking his head.

"She seems like a bright young lady," Phil offered. "I'm sure she wouldn't do anything unnecessarily risky."

"I'm confident she wouldn't as well," Jarvis agreed, a hint of a sigh in his tone. "But I would like to do something to give her an added advantage. I'm accustomed to Sir dismissing my concerns and proceeding however he pleases. As my employee, Ms. Marshall is obliged to respect my requests. However on several occasions both Sir and Agent Barton have accused me of being too protective and Ms. Marshall has made a handful of passing comments to that effect as well. I do not wish her to believe that I lack confidence in her, but I do not want to see her safety unduly risked either. I am at odds over the best course of action."

"Jarvis," Phil paused with a considering frown. "Is this the first time you've had a friend that was better acquainted with you than they were with Tony?"

"Agent Coulson, until the Avengers began living in the tower my only relationships were with Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts and Mr. Hogan."

Phil's face fell. He quickly glanced down at his desk in the hope that Jarvis wouldn't catch his expression. He'd completely failed to realize Jarvis was anything more than a sophisticated user interface on their first meeting, something that, in retrospect, was probably a form of defense mechanism. He understood well the power of being underestimated, he used it to his own advantage with alarming frequency. He'd never really considered how isolating it would be for the AI to have spent the vast majority of his interactions with strangers pretending to be a really classy smart phone.

"Our jobs really aren't that dissimilar, are they?" he offered finally, "When you care about someone you want to protect them. There's a rule as a handler; you protect your assets from bad decisions, from bad guys, from bad habits and bad intel and bad food if you can. But you never, ever protect them from doing their jobs. You give them every tool you can to make sure that they get the job done and that they come back in the best shape possible. But you don't hold them back. You let them do what they were meant to do. Over the years I've had to order Clint to stay in medical, and order Natasha to eat and sleep, I even ordered them both to abandon missions on occasion when I deemed the risk greater than the reward. They put their trust in me to make the right call, and I trust them to do their jobs. That is not always easy. Do you feel like you've given her every tool you can to keep her safe?"

"I have utilized all the technology currently at my disposal," Jarvis confirmed. He gave a thoughtful pause before continuing. "I've observed that the Avengers in general and Agents Barton and Romanov in particular invest a significant amount of time in improving their combat skills. Do you believe Ms. Marshall might benefit from additional training?"

"Additional training is almost always something to be appreciated," Phil nodded firmly. He rested his elbows on the desk, leaning his chin on his folded hands. "Would you like me to evaluate her hand combat and range skills?"

"Agent Coulson I would not want to interfere with your duties only to ease my own concerns," Jarvis protested but Phil could hear the underlying hopefulness.

"Clint and Tasha still won't spar with me," Phil pointed out with a self depreciating smile. "I could certainly use the workout. If it goes well I might make it routine."

"If you're certain it's not an imposition," Jarvis hesitated.

"Three o'clock tomorrow?" Phil offered.

"Very well, I'll let Ms. Marshall know," Jarvis confirmed. "Thank you, Agent." Phil gave a small smile, nodding.

"And thank you for the advice," he added.

"Any time, Jarvis," Phil replied. "You know, she's lucky to be working for someone like you."

"I'm very lucky to have her friendship," Jarvis pointed out. Phil smiled.

"I wonder if Tony realizes how much his boy is growing up," Phil murmured to himself so soft that not even the best sensors could detect it. He reached out, picking up his remote and turning the TV back on.

Natasha got a run up, leaping into Hulk's outstretched palm and allowing him to hurl her through the air at the giant lizard. She rammed a climbing spike into its hide, just above its shoulder and the beast gave a shuddering roar, violently shaking its head, her small, lithe body flapping in the breeze like a bed sheet as it attempted to dislodge her. Phil let his head sink to the blotter again.

"Oh god, they're trying to kill me!" he declared, banging his forehead softly a handful of times. "I take it all back! They don't need a handler, they need a damn time out!"

Note:

This chapter takes place the day after the events in Tokusatsu