Chapter Twelve: A Pirate Without A Parrot

*TIME SKIP: 6 MONTHS*

Nick Fury was in a good mood. This slightly scared a good number of the agents working at the same S.H.I.E.L.D. base as him because the director was never in a good mood.

They'd seen him annoyed, usually at a new recruit, Agent Barton – codename, Hawkeye – or the Council. They'd seen him pissed, which was also scary, typically at someone who threatened the safety of his country, Agent Barton, or the Council. And they'd seen him stoic, when giving out orders, issuing a particularly unpleasant punishment on Agent Barton, or lecturing the proverbial pants off of the Council and pretty much the rest of the time.

But most had never seen him in anything close to resembling a good mood and the rest had barely seen a hint of it after a mission or trap had gone off flawlessly and all of them were unsettled. Only Nick knew why he was in a good mood and he was about to meet the source of it.

*POV CHANGE: REGULAR* (A/N: yeah, that little part above just popped into my head. Now we're back to normal with Hiro. – Lucky)

As much as Hiro enjoyed the wide-open sky and being up among the clouds, he was still wary of the edge of a building more than three stories without his broom. Which he didn't have, and he doubted cats could fly in this world from what he'd seen of them stuck in trees constantly. He could not believe how many Spider-man rescued weekly.

And he'd just gotten back from getting yet another out, leading to their current position: Spidey dangling his legs over the edge of a high-rise with Hiro and his duffel sitting a couple feet away while he whistled, the sound almost lost in the middle of the city.

"Whatcha think, buddy?" he asked jokingly. "Rack this cat up to number – what is it now? Three hundred?"

"That's probably an exaggeration," a new voice butted in unexpectedly. "But given your track record, I wouldn't be surprised." The voice was deep and dark, the man reflecting that perfectly.

He stood tall and rigid, giving away military training and experience with his posture alone. A long, black trench coat swept past his legs and all his clothing underneath was of a similar shade. The man himself was dark-skinned and clean-shaven, an eyepatch over one eye barely covered scar tissue that peeked out from underneath. His expression was carefully neutral, and his overall impression was of a commander, and a bloody good one at that, Hiro decided.

"Would ya lookee there!" Spidey exclaimed cheerily, going with his usual sarcastic attitude. "It's Jack Sparrow! Excuse me, Captain Jack Sparrow! Where'd you park the Black Pearl?" The mysterious stranger – and wasn't that both familiar and a cliché? – raised an eyebrow at the superhero. "Hm, maybe not a pirate, too grumpy. Doesn't even have a parrot." He finally got up from his seat and stood facing the man, still in full Spider-man gear and glad of it. Hiro resorted to staying in his tucked-away nook by the duffel, curiously poking his nose over to see the pair study each other.

"Spider-man—"

"Yes?"

"—has been claimed to be both a hero and a villain by many people," he went on as if he hadn't even been disturbed. The silence after the statement was long and so thick a solid kick could have knocked it down. "I'm from an organization that believes the former. The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"That's a mouthful," the brunet noted.

He smirked. "We just call it S.H.I.E.L.D." Another silence stretched between them.

"So, what, you want me to join?"

"Yes, in a way," the African-American conceded with a nod. "There was an idea, to bring together—"

"Okay, can we skip the inspiring speech bit?" Spider-man cut him off. Hiro sniggered to himself from his spot, even though the still-unknown stranger didn't even blink at the interruption. He seemed rather used to it, if a little irritated, though not to the untrained eye. "I get enough of the monologue junk from villains. Though theirs is more 'Blah, blah, blah, take over the world' before I shut them up and I'm betting your is a little more like 'Blah, blah, blah, save the world,' but I'd still like you to shush. Can we get back to something like, oh, say, what the heck your name is, stranger?"

"Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Oh, we've got management."

"Indeed, you do," Director Fury confirmed, sharply nodding again. "You want the short story? Here it is. I'm putting together a team and I want you to be on it."

"Why?" Spidey questioned plainly. There was no way he'd actually do it, but he wanted to know why he was even considered. What did they see in him? All he could see in himself was a sad little boy who hurt everyone he was ever close to. Another good reason to stay away from this team thing.

"You're strong, you're fast, and you can work out plans in a split second after observing the enemy," the man replied in turn, the same clear-cut tone in his voice. "From the footage I've seen you can go up against an opponent for the first time, assess their weakness, and beat the crap out of them while making sure no one gets in harm's way."

"Well when you put it like that I sound awesome," he grinned underneath his mask as he spread his arms out.

"I wasn't done. You also have an impressive academic record, Mister Parker. Though those absences of yours were worrying." That right there shut down any teasing mood the atmosphere had previously. Behind the bag, Hiro zeroed in on the director, watching him intently and trying to see if he was bluffing and just had really good luck. It was a long shot that didn't turn up those outlandish answers.

Spider-man's voice was low and dangerous now, a clear warning to watch it. "How do you know that?"

"It doesn't matter how I do, just that I do," Fury said, receiving the warning and knowing how skilled the teen was, despite his age and general lack of training. "Peter Parker, born September 24th to a Richard and Mary Parker, née Fitzpatrick, who died when he was young. Taken in by his uncle and aunt, a Benjamin Parker and May Parker, née Reilly. Benjamin Parker was killed by a criminal when Peter was fourteen. And then Spider-man turned up." He wisely didn't mention anything more personal than the cold, hard facts of the major events in Peter's life.

"So, you caught me," the hero stated with his chin tilted up, though not arrogantly, more as a challenge. "What are you going to do now Director? Go to the media? Blackmail? I mean, you do run a shady government organization, so the blackmail thing is more likely…" He stood with his arms crossed and his eyes hidden behind reflective goggles that glinted and showed nothing more than the man's own reflection. It was a calculating reflection.

"No."

"No?"

"No. No blackmail, and no goddamn media," Director Fury affirmed with a barely perceptible wrinkle of his nose. This guy doesn't like Jonah any more than we do, Hiro laughed in his head. "The offers stands. Join the team, save the world. Or not. Either way, your identity will not be exposed, and I have made personally sure that it remains off our digital servers. No need to worry about hackers." Under his breath, the man muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "No need for that goddamned Stark to find out."

"You know, that makes that much easier!" And here's the perky Peter that they all knew. "But I'm going to have to turn you down. I won't be on your team. I'm a solo act. Too many people could get hurt, especially with a team that doesn't cooperate." The teenaged superhero eyed Fury with surprising knowledge for someone of his age. Of course, most teenagers were more worried about what the next fashion trend was, and most didn't have an intellect like Peter's.

"You're going to have to watch who you put on that team of yours, Director."

Then they were back to the slightly – okay, maybe a little more than slightly – snarky superhero the city knew, and Hiro loved.

Wait, did he just think that?

"Welp, toodles!" Hiro knew enough by now that he was already settled securely into the zipped duffel bag, silently thanking whoever decided to put zipper-strings on both sides, when Spidey scooped up the bag and headed towards the edge of the roof. "Call me when the world's ending, or there's aliens or something, and I might come! Might!" With that, the kit felt gravity abandon him as they fell from the building before the up-and-down pendulum motion of web slinging started, bringing them to wherever they would sleep tonight and to what was sure to be a long one-sided, or so Peter would think, conversation.

Getting one thing out of the way first, I know that it's unrealistic that Fury doesn't know Peter's homeless or that his aunt is dead. But I needed it for the storyline, so just pretend there's an incompetent S.H.I.E.L.D. agent somewhere who forgot to update the file. Or something. This is why I write fanfiction online rather than an actual book.

And I know this is all terribly unrealistic, but please roll with my strange POV that Fury actually recognizes that Spider-man helps the city and doesn't want to make an enemy out of him. Also, who would really want Tony Stark to be able to hack onto their servers and find out that? Safer to keep the super important and classified stuff off of those things (yes, I just implied that there's stuff more classified than Phase Two. No, this will not be a part of this story. I'm just talking about things like secret IDs).

Separately, who's foreshadowing future events? Certainly not I! Though I so enjoy a good movie reference (who can guess which two I'm thinking of?) ;P

On another note, I just realized I referred to Fury as "Nick" during that first excerpt part and am currently freaking out/laughing out loud, I'm not sure which one or why. Calling Fury "Nick" just seems so weird to me. Anyways, tell me what you thought, especially that first part. That was pure spur-of-the-moment, straight-outta-my-brain randomness right there. Quality stuff.

Lucky

To Vladimir Mithrander: Thank you! My muses do like to run out on me randomly, or be like, "Psyche! You're on your own!" but I usually get through it. Hopefully my writing improves, but I know there are parts of this story where it's obvious that my inspiration flew the coop during writing. It's a flighty thing.

To Silverman1: Yeah, but he's still an adorkable nerd like always. That doesn't change.

To Ellainaparker: Yep, Darcy has to wrangle two scientists with less than perfect work-life balances, plus deal with a culturally inept Norse god from Asgard who can't handle any sort of technology. She's great, and so much fun to write!