(Trip is 18), Lance is 15, Grant is 14, Leo is 12, Jemma is 12, Skye is 10 and Avalyn is 3.

"Gra – grandma," Lance huffed in between words, "I can – can't breathe."

"Imagine I'm chasing you with a gun," Lian said calmly, running by his side, not sounding breathless at all. "Is that how fast you're going to run?"

"Ugh," he stopped abruptly and placed his hand on his chest, head thrown back as he tried to breathe, "I can't – I'm dy –dying. Mom and – and Dad will wr – write on my gravestone – Lance Hub – Hubert Hunter, beloved s – son, die – died because of exer – exercise."

"If only you talked less and ran more," the woman pointed out.

Lian stopped by her grandson's side and did some stretching exercises, so that her muscles wouldn't cool and tense. Lance, on the other hand, was bent down, hands resting on his knees, his head hanging low as breathed heavily. Once he recovered his breath and looked around, people were staring at the strange sight.

"Yeah, she's fast for a tiny 82-year-old woman," he mumbled lamely to himself.

"This tiny 82-year-old woman can kick your ass. I'd watch your mouth if I were you."

Lance sighed throatily, "What was I thinking when I asked you this?"

"You thought the right thing," Lian told him, pulling him by the arm so that the two could stroll along the park. "When it comes to training, I'm the best."

"Lian May, the ultimate swagger."

"You bet your lame British ass that I'm full of swag."

The teenager laughed so hard he could barely breath (not that he was breathing properly until now), "Do you even know what swag is?"

"The undefinable 'it'. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. The kind of style that can't be taught. Game recognizes game."

He was still smirking, "Y' know, game's looking and game sees nothing."

Lian grinned, but her eyes darkened, "Alright, I'll show you game." Speaking a bit louder, so that the youngster in the park could hear her, Lian challenged, "Float after me, little butterfly."

Lance sighed and speedily ran past the laughing faces of the teenage skaters, "Gotta love Fridays."

After running the last mile of their six mile run, Lian and Lance head home to complete the rest of their daily working out session that consisted of front squats, press-ups, sit-ups, tuck jumps, burpees and sprints.

Five weeks earlier

"We need to talk with you, Lance," Coulson said, gesturing to the couch. "Sit down."

The teenager sighed and stripped off his leather jacket. He looked absolutely exhausted, "Great, so do I," he admitted.

When Lance was ten, he worked his best to be chosen for the soccer tryouts. Instead, his good friend Tyler sprained his ankle on purpose after his father (who was the team's coach) told him to, so that Lance wouldn't be chosen by the talent scout. Soccer became some sort of hobby for him after that. He couldn't really play professionally anymore; Lance didn't know if he'd ever get to play professionally, but he liked to have that option available. His focus changed then to learning the bass. When Lance was twelve, he worked his best to be the bass player for a tweens' band. Instead, his bandmates chose another bass player on the day of their big performance (the bass player was older but not exactly better). He made a fool out of himself and couldn't get over the embarrassment. He sold the bass but kept the grunge fashion sense. That was the moment Lance became completely uninterested about everything.

He was always put aside, ever since his birth (his mother died delivering him, his father didn't even know he existed, and his aunt couldn't look after him). He was tired of always being the second choice, of being hurt and humiliated. Lance's freshman year in high school was the beginning of Coulson and May's torment. He skipped classes, drunk, disobeyed every rule they imposed on him, had a new girlfriend every two weeks, ran away to go to parties and got arrested three times for disturbance and misconduct. Luckily, his parents managed to keep his record clean, and now he thanked them for that.

Lance didn't know what he wanted to do later in his life. He had no objectives, ambitions or willpower. Until one day. He was about to browse adult content material when an ad about recruitment for the Royal Air Force popped on the side of the page. After that moment, it as if everything in his life made sense. The idea of being a pilot with the Air Force grew on him and that turned into his main life objective. He fitted the main requisites to apply for the position and all he needed was training, so that he could perform well on the fitness tests, and the money to pay for his flight to the UK when he'd be called to pre-recruitment tests.

He already had the bad boy reputation, so his parents always believed he was up to no good when he wasn't home, when in fact that wasn't true. Lance started to get up really early every morning to do the first shift at downtown's supermarket, then he'd run to school, and after that he'd go back to the supermarket, dividing his time between working and studying – he needed to be smart to enter the Air Force. May and Coulson started to suspect his behavior: he was hardly ever at home, his grades were improving and they'd caught him sneaking out of the house several times at late hours of the night. They believed he was going to bars and parties, but he was in fact going for a long run (and he always managed to sneak out of the house, even after having been caught). The couple couldn't understand what was going on: he looked like he was misbehaving but nothing indicated such thing.

Even though they were well aware that what they were about to do was wrong and it'd be invading his privacy, Coulson and May rummaged through everything Lance owned, trying to find out what was happening. He wouldn't talk about it, sticking to made-up stories of delinquent behavior and late nights at bars, so they had to find out on their own. They found a large sum of money hid in one of his boots in the closet, a paper sheet with a training program and an application form for the Royal Air Force folded in the middle of one of his schoolbooks.

Walking over to his parents, but not taking a seat next to them, he said, "When school's over, I'm going to Grandma Lian's house."

That was not what they expected to hear. May asked, "Why?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "she called and told me that. She's a spy and must have found out my brilliant behavior. I think she wants to discipline me or something. Couldn't care even a bit," Lance lied.

He was the one who called his grandmother and asked her if she could train him. He wanted to seize the summer break to workout even more so that he could apply for the Air Force in the coming September. He didn't tell his parents about his desire to join the armed services because if he wouldn't be approved, he wanted that to be something only he knew about. He was tired of fighting for things and then getting the rug swept from under his feet. This time wouldn't be like the soccer talent scout or the rock band, he promised himself.

Coulson and May didn't reveal what they found; they knew that if he was going over to his grandmother then it was because he was really focused on pursuing his dream and that he had straighten his path.

"I hope she does a good job disciplining you," Coulson said, sounding repressive, but he in fact was utterly proud of Lance. He was finally growing up.

Lance had his arms crossed over his chest on a futile attempted to keep his body warm. It was a hot day of August, and he was only wearing his underwear, but just the sight of the bathtub full of cold water and the ice cubes floating around froze him to his core. And he had been taking icy baths after workout sessions for five weeks now.

"What are you waiting for?" Lian asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Just wondering," he smiled as he looked at her. "Is it because of icy baths that you've got to being 82 and looking as gorgeous as that? 'Cause I –"

"My ego doesn't need stroking. Get in the tub."

The teenager could only breathe heavily as he slowly stepped into the bathtub, the coldness going up and up his body. It took him a few minutes to fully immerse in the water. Gritting his teeth, he breathed only through his nose and tried to stay still because it felt that the more he moved, the colder the water got.

"How does it feel?"

"Like I'm sinking on the Titanic," he grumbled. "Is this really necessary or is it just bullshit and you've been punishing me during these five weeks?"

"Ice baths after hard workouts reduce tissue swelling and help decrease inflammations. It's not bullshit. Five minutes," she reminded him before she left the bathroom.

After spending five long minutes in the icy water, Lance delightedly stepped out of the bathtub and changed into clean clothes. Lian had left his lunch on the table and was outside, in the garden. The teenager smiled at the lunch his grandmother presented him with: Hawaiian pizza – his favorite – and a coke. He got himself a slice of pizza and grabbed the soda can, walking outside to meet her.

"Pizza and a coke? This has been, by far, the best lunch you've served me in five weeks."

"Well, you deserved it. You worked well today."

"Don't I always work well?"

"Today you ran six miles."

"I ran what?" Lance looked at his grandmother with a serious expression. "Six miles? I run three miles every day and that's already the double I'm supposed to run in the fitness test and today I ran six miles? That's four times more the effort!"

"Oh, please, it didn't hurt you running a few more miles."

"Tell that to my muscles!"

"Eat the pizza and have the soda before I take them away," she warned. "You're not supposed to eat carbs."

"Anything else I'm not supposed to do?" he teased.

"Talk so much," Lian smirked as soon as she turned her back at him.

She took a seat on the chair at the porch, reading a book. Lance brought the pizza box outside and sat next to her.

"I'm taking Layla to the movies tonight," he blurted out.

Layla was one of the many teenagers in Lian's neighborhood who had fallen for Lance's charms.

"If you get home after midnight you're sleeping outside."

September came and Lance took off to the UK for a whole week on his own, to do the pre-recruitment tests. Lance still needed some more money for the trip, and Lian ended up giving it to him and made him promise that once he'd get accepted (because she knew he would), the first people he'd have to tell the news were his parents. May regularly called her mother, to know about her son, and even if they didn't exactly speak about it, Lian picked up that Coulson and May knew about the teenager's plans to serve with the Royal Air Force.

Lance was firstly put through the aptitude tests that confirmed that his eyesight, his body mass and health condition were within the required parameters. Then he was submitted to a selection interview that covered some basic topics such as family life, education, his hobbies and his interest in the Royal Air Force. A second interview would be conducted if Lance would be accepted. Following those first two steps, Lance and the other recruits were put through the fitness test. He felt confident that he could get himself well ranked. The test involved a one and half mile run, press-ups and sit-ups, and then the beep test. Lance ended up surpassing the average expected for someone of his age and gender. One of the instructors commented that he'd be accepted in the RAF for sure, and that once he completed 3 months of service, that he'd approach him about the possibility of him being part of the Special Air Service.

(10 weeks of intense training paid off. Lance was slightly more mature after graduation, and within six years he got the rank of Flight Lieutenant and was also part of a Special Air Service squadron.)

Lance Hunter, the sarcastic, whinny guy from Agents of SHIELD, is a Flight Lieutenant (yeah, I know, it's the most common rank in the RAF…) and was part of a Special Air Service squadron. For those of you that don't know this:

The SAS (Special Air Service) is the British army's elite special operations force. The main elements of the SAS recruit only from British Armed Forces, never the general public. The five-month training and selection process for the SAS is brutally intense. From the approximately 200 candidates that are selected, most will drop out within the first few days, and by the end only about 30 will remain. Google the recruitment for the SAS…

I bet you'll look at Hunter differently from now on (if he is not a character you particularly enjoy). Personally speaking, he's my favorite character.

(On a side note, Nick Blood plays the bass guitar in real life; he had to learn it when he played Stuart Sutcliffe for the play Backbeat and subsequently joined a band called Shaaark. You can watch him playing bass on this YouTube video: "Backbeat at Amoeba February 4, 2013". He's not bad, but he isn't great either. He's average, giving the fact he had to learn it quickly to be able to play the role.)

Teaser for next chapter: Leo and Bakshi meet again.