Calling

Disclaimer: See chapter 1. The lyrics are from the song "The Joker" by Steve Miller, which belongs to the singer, writer and producers. Reviews are welcomed, flames are not!

Chapter 2:

Phil Coulson could be described as a simple, undescriptive man with a receding hairline; however, he was anything but that, as he needed this simple disguise for his work with S.H.I.E.L.D.

He was currently sitting by the large picture window in a small mom and pop diner in the village of Meadows Grove. He had been in the village for several days. The hotel he was staying at wasn't part of some big-name chain, but was a quaint, rustic B and B.

Phil took a sip of his coffee and sighed as he went over the small stack of files in front of him. He had gone over Garion William's file several times and still frowned at what wasn't in the file. Phil's great intellect was screaming that something was missing. It was a puzzle he hoped to solve before he left.

Garion Williams, according to what he was told by the secretary at the Summer Stock Theatre, was currently away on family business and wasn't due back for at least a week. However, he was still on court-ordered restriction for a bit of joy riding on the by-roads of the county.

Well, the week was almost up and there was still no sign of the young man.

Suddenly, the bell over the door tinkled as a harried-looking young lady walked into the diner. "Tea, and lots of it, please?" she called out as she walked to a table near where Phil was sitting.

Hermione Granger, her name came to his mind. She was the village's librarian and had made a name for herself as a research consultant on the Internet. Another puzzle. She should be in New York City, working in a Fortune 500 company, or the Beinecke Library in New Haven, given her vast knowledge of esoteric knowledge and hunger for research.

"Sure thing, dear. Rough day?" came the voice of the waitress, breaking Coulson's thoughts.

Hermione sighed. "More than rough. I just wish Stark would stop using his AI to hacking into my systems for his research and just ask. If this keeps up, I'm going to ask Tuatha for a better firewall and then sic their legal team on him. I'm trying to run a business, and don't need some hack stealing my hard-earned research!"

"Here ya go, Miss Hermione," she smiled as she placed a small ceramic tea pot and cup with all the fixing for tea in front of Hermione, then went on to explain, "I just bake a pineapple and orange cake. Want a slice?"

"Your pineapple and mandarin orange cake? Oh yes, please!" Hermione exclaimed, perking up at the suggestion. "I could use a treat after dealing with Stark and his sticky fingers."

Phil had to admit the food here was simple but very delicious. He waited until Hermione had settled down with her tea and cake before he joined her.

"Bad day, Miss Granger?" he asked, looking across his table to her. So Stark was still up to his old tricks. Maybe if he put a bug in his ear about how intelligent this lady was…

Hermione sighed as she held the steaming cup of tea and took a deep breath of its heavenly aroma. "You could say that. I'm sorry, Mr. Coulson, but Garion isn't back yet. He should be any day now."

"That's fine. I'm enjoying this quiet time. It's letting me get caught up with my paperwork," he commented as he held his cup up for a refill.

"What do you do, again?" she asked curiously, as her order was delivered.

Phil smiled. She had been asking that question ever since they have met and bonded over cake and tea. "As I've said, I work for S.H.I.E.L.D and I was asked to recruit Mr. Williams as a linguist for our firm."

"And I told you he's not interested. He's contracted with Tuatha Enterprise, his father's company, and doesn't want to change jobs."

Phil frowned. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s research of the company, charities, and other philanthropic works came up inconclusive of where the monies were coming from. The fact that they did dozens of fundraisers a year didn't seem to match the output of money to the charities - the outgoing money seemed to be in far greater surplus than the fundraisers seemed to bring in. Although some of the money trails suggested the source might have been Old Money from Europe, there was no concrete evidence to confirm this.

Their portfolios and stock headings were also strange, and even Wall Street didn't have much on Tuatha Enterprise. However, one thing was clear: the monies had nothing to do with organized crime, drugs, or racketeering.

Phil had done a background check on Miss Granger, and found she was clean. She was a superb researcher and an avid bibliophile. She received her education at an exclusive boarding school that was by invitation only. She was in the process of getting her degree in library science online from Yale.

To his surprise, they even shared a love for the classics and rock and roll – Phil because he lived it and Hermione because of her time with Garion and his brothers.

The pair exchanged a few more pleasantries before their conversation petered out into silence.

Suddenly that silence disappeared, a roar of a motorbike and a screeching of tires outside of the diner rattled the cafe's glass front.

Hermione smiled. "Well, your wait's finally over. Garion's here."

Phil turned to see a young man in bike leathers with a helmet tucked under his arm entering the diner. The youth's wild dark hair swayed as he entered.

"Hey, Mama Dee! Ice tea and some of your world-famous cake! I've been thinking of nothing else for that last twenty miles!" he called, tossing his helmet down on the table before plopping in the chair beside his friend. "To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eye'd, Such seems your beauty still."*

"Oh Garion, never change," Hermione smiled up at him as he grinned down at her.

Phil cleared his throat, breaking the moment between the pair.

"Garion, this is Phil Coulson. He's been waiting to speak to you," she introduced.

Garion offered his hand. "Well met, my good man. Pray tell, what brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Garion, behave!" Hermione chided.

The teen huffed as the waitress placed his order in front of him. "Awww, 'Mione! I just finished a hard courier job for Father. The dumb-nut refused to take Father's warning seriously. Then, to add insult, the nut sic'd his goons on me, to the point I had to bog them, including the dunderhead. You know I'm not allowed to use any weapons! Let Father deal with the smelly lot! I did my duty!"

Hermione snorted softly into her tea cup and shook her head. Garion was very easy going; for whoever he was sent to, to ignore the Undergound Treaties and attack a Bard was a death sentence.

Phil mulled over something that the young man said, and asked a bit confused, "And why. . .?" Maybe this is why this young man refuses to join up? A pacifist isn't much good on the front lines, which is where Nicky wanted this young man.

Not really paying attention to Phil's question, Garion continued on with his lament, "By all that's holy, they and the twat are now Father's headache, not mine. 'Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed. . .'** after I finish this delicious treat b'fore me."

Hermione shook her head at her very road weary friend. Then asked. "Are you hurt?"

Garion shook his head before turning to answer Phil's question. "I've taken a solemn oath on my life and honor never to touch or use live steel. That also includes any sort of weapons that are designed with the sole purpose to take life. I'm neutral personified. I can defend myself, but the taking of life is forbidden. I am but a poor humble courier, and sometimes I'm a picker, I'm a grinner, I'm a lover, and I'm a sinner, I play my music in the sun . . ."

Phil hmm'd at the familiar lyrics as he noted the serious but firm refusal. Well, that was one reason why Garion was refusing to join, but he was hiding something still. He could feel it. What was it?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Phil left the quiet village the next day. The meeting at the cafe firmed up the notion that Mr. Garion Williams would not be joining S.H.I.E.L.D any time soon. However, the young man and that Librarian were hiding something.

He knew they were talking code, but it wasn't any code he knew.

Then there was the craziness that Garion spewed. He shuddered at the thought of Stark and Williams ever getting together.

"Hi, Javis, is Stark around?" Phil asked as he stepped out of the private elevator of the Stark Tower, re-christened The Avenger Tower.

A voice came down from the ceiling in a very British accent, "He is in his work shop. He informed me you are not welcomed and to go away."

Phil smiled, "Jarvis, do you know a Hermione Granger?"

"Yes sir," came the answer. "Mr. Stark is fascinated by her research and will be sending out an invitation to join the Stark Industries. She has yet to reply."

"I suggest that you drop the inquiries," Phil told the AI. "I just left her. She is very peeved with Tony and you. She feels as if you are stealing her research and hard work."

"I see and will make a note of it."

Phil shook his head as he headed down to the Tony's workshop.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Tony Stark, self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, etc., was busying being harassed by a pretty lady in an expensive three-piece dress suit.

"I mean it Tony. This fund-raiser is very important for us to look good. Tuatha Enterprises is hosting this event. Sarah Williams is a very much-loved children's writer," she was lecturing.

"Alright, alright, I will attend," a tall dark-haired man with a goat-tee and a tired expression. Seeing Phil, Tony perked up. "Ahh, Agent. What I can I do for you?"

Phil raised an eyebrow.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Nick Fury ran his hands over his scarred face, dropping the latest report from his top agent, Phil Coulson.

"It is my recommendation that we forego asking Garion Williams to join S.H.I.E.L.D. He is a strong pacifist and refuses to follow orders. However, his skills and talents cane come in handy as a part-time private consultant as needed, if the job requires a person of his qualifications."

Fury sighed. He refused to give up. He wanted Williams on the pay-roll and he would have him before HYDRA finds out about him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A/N: This is more of a fluff filler than anything else. Phil is hard to write as he's so perfectly normal on the surface – the prefect agent.

The next chapter is going to be Tony vs Garion as soon as I write it.

*quote from Shakespeare Sonnet 104

** quote from Shakespeare Sonnet 27