Revenge is Sweet

SHIELD Director Nick Fury lowered his weapon with satisfaction. The man-shaped target showed a tight grouping of holes in the kill zone.

"Good shooting, boss. You win," said Phil Coulson, as he used a scope to study the target downrange.

"As usual," Maria Hill added without heat. She cleared her weapon, checked the chamber, reloaded and put it back in the holster at her hip.

She and Coulson had been just as accurate as Fury, but a hair slower in emptying their magazines. At least Coulson had an excuse, Hill thought with self-disgust. He still walked with a cane, following his near death at Loki's hands and the long recuperation after. He still tired easily. At the moment he was leaning heavily on his cane as he moved to a seat at the side.

The SHIELD director and his two top assistants had the firing range to themselves, a ritual among the three. This was the first time they had gotten together since Coulson's resurrection.

It was very satisfying, Hill thought with a genuine, though brief, smile.

Coulson sat down with care. Taking his custom-made Stark-cane in both hands, he twisted the gold ring around the neck. Off to the side, unnoticed, a fat beverage cooler began to rise on whisper quiet jets — stealth repulsors, Tony Stark called them proudly.

The targeting system was preset. Coulson didn't have to do anything more as the cooler swooped toward the broad shoulders of Fury's black trench coat.

Hill's eyes opened wide and Fury started to turn, but even their panther quick reactions were too slow. The flying cooler tilted and upended a flood of ice-cube laden water on Fury's head, shoulders and signature black leather trench coat.

Coulson twisted the ring back. The cooler subsided to the ground. Coulson rested his chin on the cane and regarded his soaking wet boss with just the faintest smirk on his otherwise impassive face.

It was very satisfying, Coulson thought.

Hill took her hand off her weapon. She had been angry to learn that Fury had concealed Coulson's survival. She successfully fought to hide her smile when she realized that Phil was avenging himself.

Fury shook off the chilly water and fished an ice cube out of his collar. After the first shock of cold passed, the director became aware of a certain … odor.

Hill sniffed thoughtfully. With her usual deadpan, she asked, "Is that jasmine or honeysuckle. I can never tell the difference."

"Honeysuckle," Coulson informed her, with his usual deadpan.

"Thank you," she said with a nod, as if ticking off an item on a checklist.

Holding his drenched arms clear of his body, Fury sniffed the sickeningly sweet aroma. "Coulson, do you know how long it will take to get that smell out of leather?" he asked with aggravated calm.

"Less time than it takes to get blood out of vintage trading cards, boss," Coulson suggested.

Fury grimaced, gave a quick nod acknowledging checkmate and walked away dripping.

Hill watched him go, and then turned back to Phil. "Revenge is sweet," she said with a small chuckle.

Coulson dipped his head.

Hill considered. She understood why he'd kept the retaliation private. Public humiliation was not in the best interests of SHIELD, but she was unclear about one point.

"I understand the payback — trench coat for trading cards. I get the perfume, but why the ice?"

The corner of Coulson's mouth curled just a touch and his eyes twinkled in understated amusement. He answered, "Because revenge is a dish best served cold."

A/N: Next week, in "A Very Good Team" see a special preview of a multipart story: "Heroics." Same team, but a longer story.