Avengers, Spider-Man 1. Recruitment

Peter unlocked the front door and quietly shut it behind him. He sighed as he noticed the lights on in the kitchen. He _told_ Aunt May that she didn't have to wait up for him but she insisted. It was only two weeks ago that he fought Dr. Connors on the rooftop and the bruises were still healing, but at least he could walk without a limp.

Peter still half expected to see Uncle Ben whenever he came home. He could still feel that pit in his stomach every time he came home and Uncle Ben was gone. His nighttime activities hadn't done that much to lull Aunt May's fears of losing him either. So, he hoped for Aunt May to get some sleep and, when he called to check in, he reassured her that he would be fine. He wasn't really surprised to find her still up.

Peter nearly jumped to the ceiling when he heard a male voice coming from the kitchen, "Thank you for the tea Mrs. Parker."

Parker quickly stashed his backpack containing the Spiderman suit behind the coach and crept towards the kitchen. As he neared he heard his Aunt respond, "No problem Phillip. Peter should be home any minute. You did say _Tony Stark_ was offering an internship? How did he hear about Peter?"

Peter froze as he entered the kitchen. An internship with Tony Stark? He hadn't applied for anything like that. Between school and being Spiderman he there wasn't any time to -

The man was sitting in his Uncles chair. Peter's heart clenched and he wanted to yell at him to just sit somewhere else, but obviously Aunt May didn't have a problem with it so there was no reason for Peter to. The man was dressed in a sharp suit and was slightly balding. He had to be an accountant. There is no way this slightly balding middle-aged man with a _pocket protector_ would be allowed to be anything else.

"Peter! You're back," Aunt May smiled over her tea at him, "This nice gentleman is Phillip Coulson from Stark Industries."

Peter stepped forward as Phillip carefully set down the tea cup and stood to face Peter. Phillip's grip was strong and dry as he shook Peter's hand and their eyes met, "Please call me Phil. Your Aunt refuses to - "

"Phillip is such a nice name - "

"I was hoping we could talk privately Mr. Parker. This is just an informal interview, you understand. Let you know about what you'd be doing and what we would be doing for you. We have a lot of resources at our disposal." Peter still felt a stirring paranoia. Phil looked rather harmless and there didn't seem to be any harm in humoring him. But. There was something odd about Phil showing up without any notice or expectation and it set Peter's teeth on edge.

Still, Peter allowed his curiosity get the best of him. He would be able to take anything Mr. Accountant would be able to dish out. "Sure. We can talk in my room." All of his Spiderman gear, the sketches, the web slingers, were tucked out of sight just in case his Aunt went snooping and somehow got past the locks.

Phil turned to his Aunt, "Thank you for the tea again Mrs. Parker. Peter is lucky to have such a wonderful person looking out for him. I really am terribly sorry for your loss." Bonus points to the accountant.

As they went upstairs, Peter asked, "What do you do at Stark Industries?"

Phil gave a small smile, "I'm with HR. You wouldn't believe the crazies I have to deal with some days, but the work is worth it." Peter tried not to dwell on how out of place that response was. Phil was just your average middle management wife and 2.5 kids kind of guy. Peter had to stop getting paranoid about his Spiderman identity being revealed.

As soon as the door to his room was shut, Phil said, "Did you get the webs before or after you illegally broke into Oscorp?"

Peter jumped back quickly hitting the switch to lock his door and shot off a bursts of web at Phil's hands trapping them against the wall ignoring the pathetic, "Oh, don't do that." He needed to trust his senses more. This slime ball wanted to attack him in his _home_ for Pete's sake.

Phil starts muttering into his collar but Peter is distracted by his spider-sense going off. He throws himself to the floor trying to become one with the carpet. Three arrows whiz by where he just was and slam into - oh he's going to kill these jerks. The arrows slammed into two of his skateboards on the wall. Two feet flew through the window shattering what glass was left after the arrows came through. A man in black leather landed and leveled a bow at Peter's position on the floor.

"Don't move Spider-boy or I'll -," the figure said as he glared menacingly down at Peter.

The effect is ruined by Phil shouting from where he was still pinned to the wall, "Damn it, Clint. I said _stand down_. If you don't toss your weapon on that bed right now I'll have you scrubbing every bathroom on the Helicarrier. With a toothbrush. In a tutu. And I'll tell Stark where to find you. And - "

The bow made a muffled thump as it hit Peter's bed and Robin Hood raised his arms. Peter could hear his Aunt yelling from downstairs, "Is everything alright up there?"

"Yes Aunt May. Sorry. Just got a little excited." Peter shouted back from where he was crouched on the floor. The last thing any of them needed was for his Aunt to come upstairs.

Standing up Peter glared at the intruder, "So why has Robin Hood left Nottingham? I don't think there's room for your merry men in my bedroom."

Phil looked apologetic, "I'm sorry Peter. Clint has apparently forgotten how to follow orders," and with a glare like that Peter had a hard time remembering why he thought the guy might be an accountant. He had to be a secret agent.

Clint walked over to Phil and started ripping away the webs covering Phil's hands as he said, "Maybe if someone hadn't died once already I'd - "

Phil practically growled, "I never died! Fury - "

"Is a goddamn bastard whose lucky he didn't get an arrow up his - ," Clint finished.

While watching these two fight was entertaining, Peter was starting to feel a little awkward. He cleared his throat. They ignored him completely. He grabbed the ball of rubber bands and threw it at them. Clint's hand shot out and caught it before it even touched his face.

"Nice reflexes," Peter said.

Phil straightened his suit brushing the last few webs off of his cuffs. He stepped forward turning his back on Clint. Someone was in trouble. "Again, I'm sorry about that. I'll make sure the window is replaced."

"Thanks, I guess? So. You know I'm Spiderman?"

Clint snorted, "Oh, like it was hard to figure out. You go around using superpowers while you're _at school _and thatsthat's not even mentioning all the security footage we have of your fight with Dr. Connors." Clint snorted, "Very subtle, kid."

"Clint, if you can't be quiet I'm going to ask you to leave." Strike secret agent and replace with school teacher. Phil continued, "I'm not technically with Stark Industries, as you might have guessed. Though, the offer is genuine and need not just be a cover." Damnit! Ok, secret agent, not school teacher. He was right the first time. "I'm with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."

"SHIELD," Clint added.

"SHIELD for short. I wanted to ask you what you know about the Avengers Initiative."


	2. Paperwork

Peter thumped his head against the table disturbing several papers that he was in the process of filling out. He would swear that the last few forms he filled out were verifying that he filled a different form. When a secret spy agency recruited him, Peter hadn't expected to spend the first two weeks filling out acres of paperwork.

The first week he had been cooped up in a tiny office with a lawyer who went over each and every document explaining his rights and the rights SHIELD would have once he signed that particular document. The guy watched intently, making sure Peter read every line of every offending document. Why none of the documents were digitized, Peter couldn't even guess, but it didn't seem very green to him. Captain Planet would want to have words with whoever was in charge of SHIELD's legal department.

A shadow appeared blocking the light. Twisting his head, Peter peered up at Phil without lifting his cheek from the desk. "I thought when you invited me to join the Avengers, it'd be, like, mentoring under John McClain or James Bond. I feel lied to, Phil. I was misled. All I've done for days is fill out paperwork and I'm bored. When can I meet Iron Man? Is Thor's chest as wide as it looks on TV? Am I going to be on TV?"

Phil's gaze didn't waver and the slight inclination of his lips downwards was the only sign of his disapproval. After a moment, he said, "You have ink on your face."

"You said I was almost done filling out paperwork _last week_ and yet here I am filling out paperwork. I want to help people; I don't want to be stuck in this endless purgatory filling out forms for the rest of my life."

Since agreeing to give the Avengers Initiative a chance, Peter had to curtail his Spidey action. He thought it would be fine for the first few days, but he was still here a week and a half later and the limited patrolling he was able to get done made his fingers itch. Phil pinched the bridge of his nose: a universal gesture asking the gods for patience. For some reason, Peter found that adults tended to perform this devotion often around him, but he didn't know why that would be the case.

"Peter," Phil said. "I know this is taking longer than you hoped for, but bear with us. You are still a minor and while we know that you would be acting as Spider-Man even if we did not get involved, we have to protect ourselves and you from any legal repercussions.

"I bet Iron Man didn't have to fill out all of this paperwork."

"That is because Tony Stark has a cooperation full of lawyers who will do it for him. While he seems like a very impulsive individual—"

"Did you see him take over the race car at the Circuit de Monaco? Oh my god, that was cool."

"— he has many people behind him in order to defend his actions and a lot of money to pay off any fines that may which he may incur. In any event, Mr. Stark actually needed about three times as many forms as you and that's not even including any of the forms we had to fill out in order to use his technology. But even so, being a minor complicates matters quite a bit."

"So all of this work is about my age? I'll be eighteen in, like, four months."

"You're signing up for a job which will likely include people shooting at you. It's not exactly like buying a lotto ticket."

"I'd be doing this job without you guys if you hadn't picked me up. SHIELD approached _me_ not the other way around."

"Almost all of our recruits are approached by us. You are not a special case. Sometimes it doesn't work out—"

"If I ever see you put on sunglasses and pull out a pen, I'm getting out of here and you'll never catch me. My mind shall stay un-wiped."

"This isn't a movie. We aren't Men in Black. I'm not trying to say that we're reconsidering our offer, but being a minor increases the amount of paperwork we require from you. You still have your Aunt as your guardian, but since you would prefer to keep your identity secret we cannot simply approach her and ask her to sign off on this offer. The only reason you were allowed in this building is because of the stack of NDA's and waivers that you filled out before you were allowed in. Anyways, you're almost done with the paperwork. You can finish filling it out tomorrow if you would like, but your meeting with Director Fury is soon so you should probably head upstairs. Will you need a ride home afterwards?"

"I was given these powers for a reason. I should be out there on the streets. It's not that I think SHIELD is a shady paramilitary organization from the Cold War Era that got a tech upgrade, but that's kind of what it looks like. Plus there is a crapton of paperwork."

"You should give SHIELD a chance. Don't write us off before either of us have had a chance to prove our usefulness. But it's late. Go home. We'll be in touch."

Phil walked around the table and pressed a hand to Peter's shoulder. "You're not in this alone if you don't want to be. Are you sure you don't need a ride?"

"That's what public trans is for. There's a 30% chance I'll find a seat which no one has peed on."

Phil ruffled Peter's hair. A movement caught Peter's eyes. When Peter glanced to the door, he caught a glimpse of Clint as he stormed past the entrance of the little closet that Peter had been stuck in. Agents dodged out of the way wary of Clint's scowling face.

"That's great, Peter," Phil said. Phil's gaze followed Clint as the archer made his way down the hallway. "I have to go. You have my number if something comes up. Don't be afraid to give me a call if you need to talk things over. You're a good young man, Peter. Your uncle would be proud."

Peter felt his smile wiped from his face. His uncle wouldn't be proud because his uncle was dead. But Phil was already walking out the door breaking into a jog in order to follow after Clint. He pushed out of the chair, barely hearing the clatter as the chair tumbled to the floor. Peter strode from the room and into the stream of people flowing past his door. Peter was out of place in his jean and t-shirt when everyone else he saw wore a suit ranging from black to a daring light gray pinstripe.

Peter headed upstairs exiting the basement stairwell, and entering another bustling hallway filled with yet more suits. Dodging through the sea of people, Peter was halfway to the stairs when he heard the shout, "You can take your orders and—" Everyone halted and listened for a full minute as Captain America vividly described the size and shape of the orders that were going to be shoved in a wide variety of orifices. When Captain America swears turned from French to German, Peter reached the stairs and started taking them two at a time.

As the shouting died down, the hallway was suddenly empty with people fleeing into offices and finding urgent work that needed their personal supervision elsewhere. When he came upon the few guards in the hallway, Peter showed them his id and they scanned his fingerprints and checked their calendar before letting him through.

Peter approached Director Fury's office, he heard Captain America's voice once again but it was muffled so that Peter couldn't make out any words. Knocking on the next to the room, Peter waited to see if there was an answer. Silence. Peter pushed open the door and entered the office finding it, thankfully, empty. The door closed without a sound and Peter twisted the handle as he slid it into the frame. This was the perfect opportunity to test out his new spy status.

Peter hopped up onto a cupboard that was next to the adjoining wall and emptied out a glass pencil holder. Placing the pencil holder against the wall and leaning in - he saw it in a spy movie once - Peter listened to the conversation.

A deep male voice said, "And if any of the reports on you are correct, then you shouldn't have any problem with the kid joining our little program. You were sixteen when you first tried to join the army."

"We were at war, Director," said Captain America.

Director Fury growled and Peter couldn't decide if seeing the Director's face would be worth risking falling into the line of fire. "Captain, I don't know if you're being willfully ignorant or if you're really that naive but we _are_ at war. Maybe it's not a land war, but it wasn't that long ago that goddamn aliens were invading New York. New super powered humans have been popping up like cockroaches and the United States military, god bless their souls, is not ready to take them down.

"So, we're going around recruiting children?"

"If we don't, they will. Do you think that leaving him out to fight crime by himself with no training will increase his life expectancy? Yes, let's just let him go back to his normal life as a teenage vigilante. When New York is invaded by an army of robots and your team is off fighting the villain, he'll be so much better off than if we trained him."

"Enough. You've made your point. But if this is war, Director, I'm not going to be feeding him the company lines; I'm not going to be spouting any propaganda. He's not going to—"

Perhaps this was why Phil kept finding extra forms that needed to be filled out. Dissension amongst the ranks. Apparently everyone was afraid to tell him that Captain America wasn't going to let him onto the team.

"Captain, I don't give a single fuck what you do with him while he's on the team as long as he's getting training. I could not give a single shit, because any fuck-ups could only be rainbows and daisies to me after the shit I've had to put up with Stark on the team."

"Tony," Captain America said stiffly, "does a fine job. Tony is old enough to understand the danger he puts himself into when the Avengers are assembled."

Directory Fury laughed. "Stark hacked my goddamn flying boat, Captain."

"Only to find out that _you_ were developing technology that I died trying to keep from the world. Tony might not have been in the right, but you sure as hell don't have the high ground here. I'd clear off anything that happened on the Helicarrier if I were you, Sir, because you pulled a lot of crap that day that we haven't forgotten."

"I don't care about Stark. He's apparently going to be on the team no matter what I say. If you're worried about the kid getting hurt, then don't invite him to the fire fights. But if you think that will stop him from branching out and doing his own work, then you're a fool. He came on our radar while you were helping the Fantastic Idiots with their portal to hell that they opened. If you were really concerned with his safety, then you would train him as long as he's willing. We're at war, Captain, and Parker won't be any safer if he's standing on the sidelines and sneaking onto the playing field when you're not looking."

"Good instincts won't save you if you're getting shot at with a machine gun." Captain America sounded tired. "I've seen enough kids get shot during the war. I don't need any more bodies in my nightmares. If the world is as dangerous as you want me to believe, then you shouldn't be pushing him to the front line."

"Then don't put him there."

"Director Fury—"

"You're dismissed, Captain."

"Sir," said Captain America. Peter jumped and nearly fell off his perched as the door slammed causing the wall to rattle.

Captain America didn't want him on the team. Well, that sucked. He was _three months_ away from being 18. How would 90 days really change anything? Would hitting his 18th birthday give him a sudden personality change that fixed all his problems? Or, more likely, there was a second puberty that the adults didn't tell you about because it's actually an initiation test to earn your place in society. _Not old enough_.

Peter's spider sense went off. What in the world could trigger it here? He flung himself from the cupboard, started for the door and nearly ran into someone.

She side stepped him neatly, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she spun out of the way. Peter stumbled past her and twirled around to face her heat rising to his cheeks. She wore a dark suit and had bright red hair that spun in delicate curls around her face. Her eyes raked over him, but before his body decided whether it should hide under the desk or flee down the hallway she strode out of the room gliding past him.

Peter started after her following her into the hallway. "Um, sorry. I didn't see you and—"

She stepped into the office that he had been eavesdropping on. His stomach dropped. A moment after the woman entered the office, The Director's voice shouted, "Parker. In here. Now."

Peter edged slowly into the doorway. "Oh. Hi, I was just heading home. All that paperwork, you know. So, I'll just get out of your way."

"If you don't get in here—"

Keeping the open doorway at his back, Peter stepped inside. He could be murdered in a closed room, but they wouldn't dare if anyone could just walk by and see his dead body right? The woman leaned languidly against the bookshelf that lined the edge of the room. Her arms were crossed but there was a tension in her body that Peter only recently started to learn was indicative of a trained fighter.

"I guess I have a few minutes," Peter said. "But my Aunt is expecting me to bring home milk tonight and if I don't get to the store soon."

"This is New York City. If you have a problem finding milk, you're not what we're looking for." Director Fury stood behind a dark wooden desk that dominated the room. It seemed almost out of place with the man wearing a leather duster and was turned away from Peter staring at the wall. The darkness seemed to cling to him, but Peter was pretty sure that was just his sense of melodrama playing up again coupled with the poor lighting in the room.

Peter waited for the tirade. The man who had just gone toe-to-toe in an argument with Captain America himself had caught Peter spying on him. There was no way that Peter stood a chance. He was going to end up saying something flippant and the Director would have him killed and his Aunt would be all alone and his body would never be found. This was a negative that Peter never thought of when he decided to throw in his lot with the super-secret spy agency.

The Director stared at Peter. Peter glanced around but felt pinned by the gaze, like a bug on a petri dish. The woman approached him while he was looking away, grabbing his chin and tilting it up. Peter jerked away breaking away from her grip. She snorted and narrowed her eyes. Glancing up at the Director she said, "I have to catch up with the Captain." She turned back to Peter. "This is your first and only warning. Do not try to spy again. You're not good at it and if I have to stop you I will be annoyed."

She slipped past Peter; the sleeve of her jacket brushed against his arm and she strode down the hall. Peter laughed nervously until he met the directors scowl. "She wasn't serious was she?" Peter asked.

"She recently moved into the Avengers Tower with Stark who installed his AI into the entire damn thing. They've touched on the subject of personal privacy and she's not in a good mood. If you antagonize her, it's on your back. And believe me; if I hadn't expected you to listen to that conversation then you would have never heard a thing."

Peter frowned. "You wanted me to hear Captain America yelling that I'm too young to be on his team?"

"Son, you are 17; the next youngest person on this team is almost 30. We've seen you in action when you helped out with the fiasco that Connors and, unlike the Captain, I know your type. Even if we didn't pick you up, provide you training and resources, and add you to the ranks, you would still out be there fighting except you wouldn't have back up. I want you on the team, but you're going to have to figure out how to find your own place on it. I am only giving you the opportunity to do that. And if you fuck it up, then you're out."

"That's it? I get to deal with it on my own? That's seriously the advice you're giving me. You're a terrible school counselor."

"This isn't school. I have faith in this team. I've backed you this far and pushed you into the team. If you can't find your place on the team, then maybe the Captain is right. I'm not going to force them to keep you on the team, but you get at least 3 months probationary period and then it will be up to the Captain if he wants to keep you on the team."

"But he's not even going to give me a chance! You already said I could be on the team. You were the one who went through all this mess, got me to fill out form after form, and now I'm going to be out? Couldn't you have told me this before? It might have been nice to know that I'm not actually going to be on the team."

"We'll still have a place for you at SHIELD, but the Avengers is the Captain's team now. I pulled them together and I think you'll fit in with them, but it's their team. I might give them a hint on where to go to help out, but they are their own unit now. So if Rogers doesn't want you, then that is his choice."

"What are you going to do if I'm kicked out?"

"We'll come to that if it happens. I have you scheduled to meet Stark next week and have him introduce you to your internship cover. Your paperwork should be finished and processed by that time."

"Really? Because I've been filling out forms for a week and a half now. You can check all that data that fast?"

"This is what we do. I think you'll be fine. Don't come running to me with any problems; while you're on the team you're Coulson's problem. You know the way out."

"Um."

"Leave. Now, Mr. Parker."

"I, uh, guess I'll see you around." Peter waved a hand, but the Director was already flipping through papers. Only stopping to grab his skateboard and messenger bag from where they rested in a locker by the entrance, Peter fled the building before he got caught in flood of paperwork or drama. He wasn't sure which would be worse.

* * *

A/N:This has been my most popular story and I'm flattered at all the people who have taken the time to leave reviews on this. You guys are all great. I know it's been _almost_ _a year_ since I've posted an update to this story. And I swear. I haven't abandoned it. However, I'm working on a reverse big bang this month and most of my writing time is going to be taken getting that written so the next update won't be for _at least_ another month. Seeing as how I took almost a year instead of 2 weeks to get this bit done... well, yeah. This story hasn't been abandoned, but as already can be seen I'm pretty shitty about getting updates done. I'll do my best to get this story finished after the big bang, but I hope you'll bear with me.

Hope you enjoyed. (Reviews are absolutely lovely if you have a chance.)


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Avengers, Spider-Man, Humor