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Changing Lives	By : Strailo Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 1441 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
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Title: Changing Lives
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing: Phil/Clint
Chapter: 7
Words: 1938
Warnings: nothing yet
AN: So, mom headed to the hospital on Friday so I’m sorry that I was unable to post. She was having breathing issues, but she’s doing much better.

Tomorrow, I go on a date with my girl and love on her all day. So enjoy!

*~*~*~*

Six months after he had filled his paperwork out and joined the group that he would be heading overseas with, Clint wondered just how fit they wanted him to be. He had hurt a lot more than his first six months of training, but it had started to get better at being able to carry his packs, along with his sniper rifle and all that came with it. They knew that he still preferred his bows, keeping up with his training and becoming proficient with the newer models after his CO found out which ones he was doing.

But he was enjoying the sniper training that he was going through.

During the first six months, he learned how best to test the winds and adjust accordingly so he could hit his target. He learned to hit it even miles away and how to break down his rifle in seconds as he ran if it came to it. He learned how to cope with the thought of killing another human.

And he learned how to be the hidden backup for his team, a trained assassin for the United States Military.

He found himself learning other things that they didn’t train him for. He learned how to leave it behind when he went to see his family eight months after he started to train. He learned how to forget that he would kill in so many weeks when he went out with the friends that he hadn’t seen in so long, learning what they had been doing since the last time they saw each other. After all, to them, e-mails, letters, and video chats had nothing on the connection of being face to face.

He learned all of that and more as he graduated from training and was shipped out to his new base overseas.

Just over three years after he signed the paperwork to become a sniper, he was coming to an end of his enrollment. He was trying to figure out just what he wanted to do with his life, having his major in sound engineering and a minor in communications. He had gained the Specialist rank just under two years before, was on the cusp of being named a Sergeant, and was thinking of reupping. The only reason he hadn’t gained the rank sooner was because he had ended up in the hospital for a month with a cracked leg bone and hadn’t been allowed to take the class he needed.

But really, he didn’t think that it was a bad thing since he was still figuring out what he wanted to do. His record was spotless, and he could get a post-discharge paycheck from them for a couple of years along with a retirement fund that had been started the day that he got his first paycheck.

For the moment, he was sitting in a bar that his father liked to visit on occasion, working his way through a bottle of beer and a plate of mini tacos that were pleasantly non-greasy. He looked up with a raised eyebrow as a man with an eye-patch took the seat that across from him, staring. A pretty brunette woman soon joined them, sitting next to him, facing the room while the man stared back at him.

“Yah know, not that I don’t enjoy company, but I don’t usually have a pirate and his wench join me when I’m eatin’,” he drawled slightly. He eyed the woman with sharp blue eyes. “Or maybe I should amend that to his first mate?” He took another bite of his current taco, chewing on it as he shrugged off the glare from the woman. He swallowed. “Who are you and why should I let you continue to sit there without callin’ for a bouncer ta drop kick ya out?” he asked, letting his drawl come full force.

Sometimes having a father coming from the mid-west came in handy and having a drawl because of that could throw off people.

“My name, if you must know, is Nick Fury. And I have an offer for you, Specialist Coulson of the United States Army,” the large man drawled.

Clint put down the last bit of the taco in his hand and really took in the guy before him. He had the skin tone of a starless night under the low lighting of the bar, and his eyes were just as dark. He had no doubt that under the eye-patch was a damaged eye, the eye still there and not gone as some would think. It didn’t fit right to be just holding an eyelid in place. He wore a high-necked shirt that he didn’t doubt was lightly armored, a pair slacks meant for movement, and a leather jacket to hide all of this. He wore thin leather gloves, and he had a feeling, if he looked down, the boots would be heavy duty. Meant for hard work and harder fights.

Looking over to the woman next to the man called Nick Fury, he noticed that the woman, for the most part, was his opposite. She was wearing a thinner version of Fury’s high-necked shirt, smoother in texture, built for a woman’s body instead of a man’s broadness. It was tucked into well-tailored pants that tapered off into a boot cut. She wore low heeled boots on her feet that came up and over her ankles, the man only catching sight of it because of the way she was sitting. She wore a shorter, hip length leather jacket over her outfit.

With his training, he was able to see the slight bulge that came from carrying gun holsters.

Picking up the last bite of the taco, he cocked an eyebrow instead of speaking, eating it with nary a care. Fury smirked at him, leaning back and ordering a whiskey neat. “I am here to offer you a place under S.H.I.E.L.D. on a special team. We need a sniper of your qualifications and training.”

“Do you now? And what is this...S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Clint asked, draining off his beer and sitting back, waving to the waitress and asking for a soda. He wanted a clear head and since he was there, he wanted one of their famous soda’s.

Fury smirked and settled in to tell him all about what S.H.I.E.L.D. was. He talked about how they did the dirty work for the world to protect it. They went after the dealers that no one could touch, the ring leaders of the pedo rings that fueled the world. The twisted people who needed to be taken out and dealt with.

They didn’t work for any one nation, but instead they worked for a carefully chosen group of people from every nation that had a stable government that wasn’t counter-productive to a safer world.

Fury told him about the history of S.H.I.E.L.D. and how it started. How at first it was called the Strategic Scientific Reserve and it had helped to create Captain America during World War Two How it had continued but eventually been disbanded only to be started by one Peggy Carter with the help of her life-long friend, Howard Stark.

He knew most of the history of Peggy Carter, Captain America, and the Howling Commandos, including his personal hero, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. He knew quite a few personal stories about the men, and even Peggy Carter because of his grandfather. With those stories in mind, he had a feeling that Fury was bullshitting him hard on a lot of things but kept his mouth shut.

Fury did go over just what they wanted him for though. They wanted him for his assassination and infiltration expertise. He would be a part of a small team with a trained handler. The team would include a hacker, an information specialist, another assassin who would be for more up close and personal missions, and two backup agents who would be their jack-of-all-trades.

And of course, their commanding officer who was to be their handler.

From what he was told, the chosen handler was going to be a man who had worked closely with the Army for the last five years as a civilian fighting specialist along with a few other things. The man had joined them six months prior as a handler and already had one group who was ready to move onto bigger missions.

The woman, who introduced herself as Maria Hill, handed him a thick file. Within it was the information of what his contract would entail, the two watching him read it as he finished the two other tacos. Licking his lips and wiping his fingers off on a napkin, he drained half of his soda before closing the file. “I’m sure you know that I’m gonna want to think on it right?” he asked. “I’ve had alcohol, and this is a big decision.”

Fury smirked at him but nodded. “I’ll send Hill to talk with you in a week. I don’t think that I have to tell you to keep quiet on what I’m offering, right?” he asked. The look from Clint clearly told him how much of a dumb ass the man thought he was being. “Good. Thank you for your time, Specialist Coulson,” he stated, standing up. He left with Hill following him, file in her hands.

Sitting back in his chair, Clint smirked before he waved down the waitress for his tab, snagging the money that Hill had left behind. He paid for the drinks and left a tip for the harried woman who had smiled at him before he left with a wave over one shoulder. He caught a cab and headed back to the base that he was doing the last few months of his time, falling into bed after a quick shower and a schedule check.

For the next week, he thought about the pros and cons of what he had been offered, and when Hill strolled up to him in the gym on base, he had an answer. Telling her that he would meet her at the little on-base cafe, he showered, changed and headed over. Getting an order of coffee, he sat with her while she sipped her tea, taking the file shoved over.

He reread the contract and noticed that a few of the clauses that he had lingered over at the last meeting had been tweaked to be better for him in the long run. Smirking, he filled out the correct parts and signed it all. He watched as Hill checked the paperwork and made it official with her signature.

He had four months, three months left on his duty and a month to rest, to find a new apartment in New York, and visit with his family, before he started to train. He was feeling pretty good about signing on, the signing bonus not hurting at the very least. He found out that they had a land base in New York and that he would be spending a lot of his time there when not working on other things.

When he told his parents that he had joined up with an agency, using the name that they had given him, they were happy with the fact that after his first year, he would be able to visit them every three months. Mini vacations of three days, not including the two days to travel, or so he told them.

It was a good deal and when he met the man who was their handler, he had to admit that they had some eye candy. Even if the guy was a bit of a stick in the mud.
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Changing Lives