"Hey Witchy, Fury needs you in his office ASAP."

Rowen sighed as she looked up towards the ceiling where Barton was leaning out of a displaced ceiling tile. "Do I want to know why?"

"Because your agents are stupid," replied Clint, dropping down through the hole to land on her desk.

Groaning, she slid her chair backwards so Clint could actually sit on the desk as opposed to perch there like a bird. She hated when he got shoe prints on her desk; it was a pain to clean up. "What happened now? And who was involved?"

"Hunter and Gent," replied Clint as he sat down, leaning forward against his knees. "Or as I'm gonna start calling them: Fred and George."

"No Harry Potter references," ordered Rowen with a shake of her head as she swiveled clear of her desk and crossed her arms over her chest. "You'll confuse everyone like you did that time with the agent on loan and the Witchy nickname."

Clint snickered. "That was pretty funny though, when she said your "cover" name was the worst cover name she'd ever heard. I thought she was going to sink into the ground when Coulson told her it was your real name."

Her lips twitched up slightly. "That was entertaining, but not my point. Back to my idiot agents. What did they do?"

"Do you want the long or short version?" asked Clint as he leaned backwards.

Rowen shrugged. "Which is more likely to make me leave them to fend for themselves against Fury's wrath?"

"Either," admitted Clint with a shrug. "Probably both."

"Give me the long version then," decided Rowen with a sigh. "Might as well get anything surprising out of the way. That way I won't kill them in front of Fury."

"Right," laughed Clint. "Fury might have already done that already. So, they..."

Hunter and Gent's voices echoed through the vents, louder than two men sneaking around should have been. Well, it's mostly Gent's voice bouncing around. Hunter just occasionally grunts and gives one syllable answers. Their voices carry at first, bouncing around the metal ducts before slowly solidifying as they come closer and closer to one of Clint's many 'nests', tucked away down a side path for the vents. As they slipped passed the entrance to the shoot off however, they failed to notice him. Which meant Gent failed to stop talking.

"I'm telling you, Hunter, there has to be something good there," insisted Gent, even though it didn't look like Hunter was saying anything to indicate he didn't believe the other agent. "It's the perfect hiding place."

Hunter grunted in response, but continued to follow Gent none the less. The first man's words became less cohesive after that as he moved further from the side passage, distorting anything more he said. For a moment, Clint just listened as the two boys kept crawling down the main vent,then turned out to follow them as soon as he thought they were far enough ahead not to notice him. Hunter might spot him, regardless of what Clint did; the former merc is frighteningly observant. Gent though, he probably wouldn't notice anything. Witchy and Markson had both equated the young agent to Clint in terms of his personality and target-based orientation, and Clint had to admit it was true. The hyper-focused nature that Gent was currently displaying was the same kind Clint could fall into in the field.

Of course, Clint's situational awareness is pretty much astronomically better than most peoples because life happened. But Gent's young and doesn't have the mountains of emotional baggage that Clint does. Or the scars. That means, he's not as careful about his surroundings as Clint is.

Lucky for Clint.

Of course, Hunter was still more aware than Gent; Clint's seen the kid's file and it made him shutter. Which meant Clint waited a few seconds before going after the boys. It wouldn't do to get caught slinking after Rowen's younger agents, even if it was by said agents. Besides, if they're up to no good, then it could be his chance to get some blackmail. Or at least a few laughs.

Creeping after the pair, he managed to slink close enough to hear what Gent was saying. The young agent had dropped his voice a bit, but he was still keeping up a pretty much constant one-sided conversation with the man beside him. It honestly reminded Clint of his own missions with 'Tasha- the ones that usually had her duct taping his mouth shut. Or, well, wanting to.

"So there's gotta be something good under there," insisted Gent. "I mean, he always wears it, right? What better place to hide something good. Who's going to search someones empty eye socket? I bet there's a flash drive under there with loads of confidential data."

Empty eye socket...are they talking about Fury? Clint nearly fell over as he realized the likely target of the two boys. They were planning to steal whatever was behind Fury's eye patch or the patch itself. Damn, those boys are brave. Or they're just too stupid to realize how bad of an idea this is.

Smirking, Clint began to creep behind them again, keeping them in sight but hanging back a little more. He was not going to miss this for anything. If they succeeded, he wanted to potentially recruit them to his side like Kaswaski. If they failed, he'd laugh his ass off. Either way, it was worth his time to watch this.

When they reached the vents leading to Fury's office, Clint turned off on a cross branch and crawled around the edge. He knew the vents around Fury's and Coulson's offices better than anyone- the two spies themselves included. The side vent above Fury's desk and to the side would be the best place to watch this chaos, regardless of how the boys chose to enter the office.

Creeping up to the vent itself, Clint spotted Fury passed out on his couch just below the ceiling vent across the room. Of course, if Le Fay's people were smart, they would lower from the vent above Fury and never touch the floor of his office. At least, that's how Clint would do it.

Sure enough, the vent lifted out of it's place a moment later and Gent's head appeared out of the hole. He disappeared again for a minute before his feet slid out of the vent, followed by his legs. Clint could see the rope wrapped around his body as he carefully lowered himself out of the vent and gradually let the rope take his weight.

Then, as Gent's head cleared the ceiling, his hand slipped on the edge of vent and he began to fall. He dropped several inches before tension on the rope brought him to a sharp stop, dangling above the sleeping Fury. It was a lucky move; if he'd landed on Fury, there was no telling what damage would have been done. Thankfully the ceilings in Fury's office were tall.

For a moment, Gent hung in the air, looking more than a little freaked out. Understandably so; Clint had been ready to bolt if necessary. He did not want to be caught in the vents in conjunction with this chaos if either agent actually fell on top of Fury. That would just be bad, and probably get someone killed.

Silently, he watched as Gent flashed a thumbs up to what had to Hunter. A second later, he began to slowly drop towards Fury again. His breathing was visibly fast, though it was obvious he was trying to be as calm as possible. When he was directly over Fury, Clint saw him shoot Hunter a 'stop' gesture with his hand and pull out a small pair of scissors. Then, he reached for the eye-patch.

Gent never even touched the fabric.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stop right where you are." Fury's dead calm voice cut through the room half a second before his good eye slid open.

Gent screamed as he realized he was caught and began to flail for a moment, trying to get back up to the vent. However, all his flailing achieved was to pull Hunter down out of the vent above. The two landed in a pile on the floor before Fury, tangled in their rope like a pair of caught fish.

Fury sighed from where he lay on the couch, eye closing again for a moment. "This is why I don't do naps." Pushing himself into a sitting position and spinning to face the two agents sprawled on his floor, Fury gave them his best scowl. "So, either of you care to explain what the hell you were doing?"

Hunter pushed himself off of Gent, rolling to his feet and standing with a salute. He didn't move otherwise though and he didn't offer an explanation, just looked down at Gent expectantly. Clearly, he wasn't going to try to run or say anything. It was probably the smartest thing he could do; obviously someone had taught him what to do if he was ever captured.

Gent, for his part, scrambled to his feet and offered a salute to Fury. "Director Fury, sir, we were just double checking the vent security. We wanted to see what the weak points in the system might be. You know, for security purposes."

"Right," stated Fury, glaring down at the two young agents. "And I'm gonna actually get a week where nothing insane happens that threatens the security of the entire world. That was a load of bullshit, son." Standing, Fury stepped forward to tower over the two younger men. "Now, I'm going to drag your SO up here and she is going to deal with this shit. Barton! Go get Le Fay, now. Tell her I want her in my office ASAP. And you two-"

"Wait a moment," ordered Rowen, her accent slipping into her voice as she halted Clint's story. Honestly, there was probably nothing more of value to this particular story. Anything else she needed to know, she'd find out when she spoke to Fury. Clint's part in this was a far more pressing matter. "You watched them do this?"

"Yeah," confirmed Clint with a grin. "The vents are awesome for that."

"So you witnessed my agents doing something incredibly stupid and you didn't bother to stop them or even attempt to dissuade them," repeated Rowen, her accent growing thicker.

"No, where's the fun in that?" asked Clint, his grin falling slightly. Nerves began to play across his face, indicating that he knew trouble was coming. And oh, was trouble coming for him.

"Barton, I want you to get out of my sights, now," growled Rowen, standing so she towered over archer. Her voice was level, even though the anger behind it was pretty apparent. She didn't see a good reason to hide it, after all. "And if I catch you anywhere near my team in the next week, I will pluck your proverbial feathers and leave you in the middle of the SHIELD training grounds, tied up, with that tattoo on your arse on a hawk tangled in a spider's web on full display for everyone to see. Got it?"

Barton gulped and scrambled back into the ceiling before she could even blink. She knew he wouldn't come near her again for the rest of the week, though he'd probably bug Tom, which was fine. He could harass him as much as he liked. She just didn't want him near any of the new agents; they didn't need to get any ideas from him.

"I don't think I've ever seen him run that fast."

Tom's voice startled Rowen slightly, though not enough to make her jump. He was as bad about sneaking up on people as Barton and her father, so she was more than a little used to it.

Gathering a file she needed to give Fury anyway, she tucked it under her arm and turned to Tom. "He knows I'll do it and that Natasha will just laugh rather than help him."

"I'd laugh too," remarked Tom, following Rowen as she exited the room. "How'd you know about the tattoo though?"

"I've had the dubious pleasure of seeing Barton's naked ass more times than I want to think about," replied Rowen with a grimace. "I've worked with him and Natasha one time too many for my sanity."

Tom's laughing followed Rowen down the hall as she headed into a stairwell and up to Fury's office.

The hallway was empty when Rowen exited onto the level where Fury's office was located. Normally, there would be at least a few agents mulling around in front of the few high-level offices located on that floor; the fact that there was no one present spoke to how angry Fury must have been. Heading towards his office, she opened his office door without knocking. He'd called her up; it wasn't like anyone else was going to be there.

Inside, Gent and Hunter sat against one wall, looking completely unphased. Across from them sat Fury, his eyes leveled at the two boys. She couldn't even begin to read the director's mood, his face set in a neutral position that could mean any number of things. Well, that's a good thing at least. If I can't read what he's feeling, he can't be that pissed. Or perhaps that's more worrying.

Stepping fully into the room, Rowen moved around to stand in front of Fury's desk without a word. When Fury was ready to talk, he'd acknowledge her. It was a bit like dealing with her mother, actually. Only without the magic, influence, ferocity, and ability to raise the dead. Or stone-cold control.

"Agent Le Fay," greeted Fury a moment later, shifting to lean forward. "I don't suppose Agent Barton apprised you of the situation, did he?"

"He did," confirmed Rowen, glancing at her agents. With her there, their demeanor's rapidly changed. Instead of casual and slumping, they sat up straight and managed to look like they were at attention. It was actually kind of funny that they showed her so much respect compared to Fury. Or maybe five minutes of dealing with silent Fury had bored them both into relaxing.

Fury looked unamused. "So you motherfuckers show respect now that your SO is here? Of course."

Rowen kept her mouth shut and shot a look at her agents to do the same. The question was hypothetical and didn't need an answer.

Without missing a beat, Fury continued, his eyes falling back on Rowen. "I'm leaving their punishment in your hands, Agent Le Fay. I'm sure you'll work out something creative for them to do." His glance fell back on the two agents, eyes narrowing. "Now, you two get your motherfucking asses out of my motherfucking office." Gent scurried up and out like a kid just being released from time out. Hunter was more restrained, saluting Fury before he left like a proper soldier might.

Remaining where she was, Rowen watched her agents leave before turning back to Fury. As soon as the door clicked shut, the man motioned for Rowen to take a seat while pouring himself a drink. "Those two have some scary-ass fucking skills."

"So I heard," remarked Rowen, shaking her head and taking the offered shot. "I almost hate to punish them."

"I wouldn't go overboard," advised Fury. "Just make it clear they're not allowed to steal their Director's eye-patch."

"That won't be hard," assured Rowen. "I'm assuming you scared them thoroughly before I got here."

"I tried to," muttered Fury. "I think they're more afraid of you, though."

Shaking her head a bit, Rowen took a sip of her drink. "They're afraid of what I'll make them do as punishment."

Sighing, Fury glanced at the door and shook his head. "They're gonna be another Strike Team Delta, aren't they?"

"Possibly," confirmed Rowen. "The Avengers have taken a liking to them. Barton is teaching Kaswaski the vent system, Corven and Stark of all people have found common ground, Hunter keeps sparring with Romanoff, and Gent is just sort of harassing everyone as is expected. Though, I think he'd honestly get along well with Rogers if he could just stop joking around so much."

"Speaking of Captain Rogers, I need to speak with you about something," stated Fury, eying her wearily. Rowen just cocked her eyebrow in return, encouraging him silently to speak. "Do you happen to know how all of Captain Roger's underwear went missing with most of it managing to end up crammed in my sofa?"

Blinking innocently and keeping her face completely straight, Rowen tilted her head a little like she was confused. "How would I know anything about that, director?"

"Maybe because he pissed you off last?" suggested Fury, his eyes narrowing at her suspiciously. She was sure he suspected her, but the reality was that he didn't have any proof she did it. The one good thing about having a father who's a master of causing mischief: she learned very young how to cover her tracks.

Shrugging a bit, she offered him a frown and furrowed brow as if wracking her brain for some clue as to who might have stolen all of Steve's underwear from his room and hidden it (it hadn't exactly been hard to do, so really she could suggest anyone). "I'm sorry, sir. I don't know. Did you speak with Stark? Or Agent Barton? Perhaps they know something."

That particular prank was right up either Stark or Barton's alley and was designed for exactly that purpose. First thing Loki taught her: when pulling a prank, if you are concerned about being caught, pull a prank that matches something someone else would pull. Personally, she would have rather done something with Steve's shield, but she had plenty of time to design a prank more to her liking. This was simply a warning.

For a moment, Fury eyed her in silence like he didn't believe her (which he probably didn't). Then, muttering something that sounded like it might have to do with alien gods, he motioned for Rowen to leave. "You sure your dad didn't teach you jack shit?"

"I just said he didn't primarily raise me," pointed out Rowen, standing calmly and offering the director a hint of her father's smirk. "I didn't say he never taught me anything."

Shaking his head, Fury just motioned for her to leave. "I don't want to know, otherwise I'm gonna start regretting keeping you around, even if you did help save Cheese."

"Yes, Director," stated Rowen simply, nodding to the man before she left the room.

There was no sign of Hunter or Gent when she stepped into the hall, which was exactly what she expected. Heading for the elevator, Rowen opted to let the agents stew for a night. They knew punishment was coming. In the mean time, there was someone she needed to talk to. After all, it wouldn't do for her to punish her team too severely, would it?

The next morning, her team came stumbling into the classroom, all looking weary. Of course it would have spread among them about Gent and Hunter being caught. And of course it would have spread that they were probably in deep shit. After she made them all train with massive hang-overs, they're bound to be weary.

She hadn't bothered to punish Kaswaski for her little mess with Loki- it just hadn't seemed fair. So, Kaswaski made up some story about a punishment she hadn't actually been made to complete and they'd just gone with it. This time though? This time Gent and Hunter were going to get it.

Settling at the front of the room, Rowen leaned on the table and pointed to her white board. "Okay, because apparently this needs to be said, if you want to survive at SHIELD you must never, under any circumstances, try to see what's behind Fury's eye-patch. Yes, there are secrets there. There are secrets everywhere in this place. No, you will never know what they are. They are called secrets and not facts for a reason."

Looking at Gent and Hunter, she offered them a bit of a threatening smile. "Gent, Hunter, you two have been slated for what we like to call cleaning duty for this week. There's a lab where we keep cybernetic and glass eyeballs containing recording equipment. It's in the equipment shed. Don't ask why we have it, just know we do. You two will be spending this week cleaning eyeballs, all of them. That amounts to approximately 246 eyes between the two of you. Understand?"

"I don't get it," argued Gent. "You hid all of Roger's underwear under Fury's office couch. Why aren't you in trouble?"

One of Rowen's eyebrows rose in challenge, her eyes leveling at her team. Of course, that particular incident would have gotten out and someone would have tried to finger her. Typical. That was the problem with working for an intelligence agency: everyone liked to think they had all the facts about everything.

"Because despite what Fury believes, he can't actually prove that I hid all of Captain Roger's underwear in his office. Which I didn't." It's true, not all of Roger's underwear ended up in Fury's office. Some of the pairs are under the mattress in Stark's bedroom and there are a few pairs which she may or may not have sent to Phil as a joke. And those aren't counting the ones May'd slipped into various places around the building. After all, where's the fun in stealing the underwear of a national treasure if you just hide it all in one place?

"My point stands, don't try to steal Fury's eye-patch again, clear?" stated Rowen, narrowing her eyes at the agents to make sure her point was getting across. Not that eye-ball cleaning duty was a fun one; that alone would probably discourage future attempts to steal Fury's eye-patch. But, just to make sure... "Oh, and anyone who tries that again will be punished at Director Fury's discretion. And I've seen him make people wash the Helicarrier while it's in flight. Clear?"

"Clear," chorused back the group of agents, all of them significantly paler than before.

Nodding her approval, Rowen turned back to the front of the board. "Good. Today, we're going to talk about Loki..."