Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing related to Marvel, either the comics, movies, TV shows, etc. That all belongs to the Disney corporation (though I might try and kidnap Captain America and Hawkeye some day).

AN: So, here's my new story! Since I'm not really familiar with Marvel (except through the cartoon TV shows and the movies), I hope that the die-hard fans will forgive any mistakes I make. Besides, it's fan fiction, so I'm going to toy around with stuff as I see fit. Anyway, I hope that everyone enjoys themselves, and please don't forget to be kind and leave a review. Thanks!

Chapter 1: MIB and Government Agencies:

Shifting uncomfortably in my chair, I looked around the plain, impersonal office in which I sat. The walls were metal, probably steel, and nothing hung there to decorate them. There was a huge wooden desk in front of me, with a large, official-looking black leather chair that looked much more comfortable than the metal chair I sat on. Luckily, my chair had some cushioning on the seat and back, so I wasn't completely uncomfortable –at least, not physically. Psychologically, I was scared witless.

Then again, being hauled in by government officials in black suits would scare the heck out of anybody.

Of course, I have no idea why I was here. In all honesty, I was probably the epitome of the average Joe (or Josephine) –I worked hard, paid my taxes, didn't break the law, and didn't get involved in things that might attract unwanted (a. k. a.: secret government) attention.

But that didn't stop the guys in dark suits from showing up at my parents' home, where I was house-sitting. One minute, I'm watching television, and the next, there's a knock on the front door. The men standing there flashed some kind of badge, demanded that I open the door, and told me I needed to go with them.

Since they were carrying dangerous weapons, I decided to not argue with them, or put up a fight. Instead, I grabbed my handbag, locked up the house, and (rather stupidly) went with them. Three black government sedans were parked out front, and they put me in the middle one, with an agent on each side of me, probably to keep me from escaping as they blindfolded me. No one said anything for the whole car ride, making me even more nervous with each passing minute.

When we finally stopped, it was in front of a small, isolated airport. When the blindfold was taken off, I saw a private plane, with solemn agents all around the stairway leading up to the aircraft. No one else was around. The men escorting me led me up the steps and into the plush interior, which was a clean-cut, elegant white-and-beige. I was told to sit wherever I wanted, so I immediately claimed a forward facing seat by a window, with a small wooden table in front of it.

Five minutes later, we were in the air, and to my surprise, a red-haired female agent came from the rear of the plane and served me a Coke, poured in a fancy crystal glass with ice. Giving the glass a very doubtful inspection, I wondered if it was poisoned or not. Seriously, I wouldn't put it past any of these people to try it.

The female agent gave me a genuine smile that startled me. "Don't worry; it won't kill you or anything. Believe me, we have nothing to gain from killing you; you're worth more alive than dead."

I scowled at the bubbling liquid. "That really doesn't make me feel any better, you know," I told her.

Surprisingly, the men around me actually smiled or chuckled, causing me to blush in embarrassment, and a little anger. "Hey, I just got abducted by agents from my parents' house! I've a right to be suspicious!" I snapped at them.

The red-head chuckled softly and patted my shoulder. "I promise, we've got orders to treat you very gently until you're in our boss's hands. You'll be given all the care we'd give an ambassador or representative. Now, drink up. There's plenty more where that came from, so you can have as many as you want during our long flight."

Looking back at the glass, I quietly asked, "Where are we going?"

I didn't expect her to answer, but she did. "New York City."

The amount of shock a person can experience in one day was fully met by me, all while I was on that plane. I was being flown across the country to one of the largest cities on the planet, seated aboard a private government plane with agents all around me. It was like being the child of the president, only far scarier, since I really had no choice in the matter.

On the other hand, the red-haired woman, Natasha Romanoff, was right about everything: I wasn't drugged or assassinated. Rather, I was fed, made comfortable, and even given a power source I could hook my iPod up to. Sadly, no one would answer my questions about what this whole mess was about, and I decided to keep my mouth shut after I annoyed one of the male agents for the tenth time.

When we landed over eight hours later, it was early evening. Once off the plane, I was put into a car with Agent Romanoff and blindfolded again. The trip was lengthy, but Agent Romanoff kept assuring me that I was going to be fine, and even talked about some of the landmarks we passed by. By the time we arrived at our destination, I was even slightly relaxed –but only a little.

After the car stopped, the blindfold was removed and I saw that we appeared to be in some sort of underground garage. I was gently handed out of the car to be led inside by my female caretaker. Passing through many hallways, Agent Romanoff and I came straight to this very office. Here, I was told to sit and wait, before she closed the door behind her. That had been at least fifteen minutes ago.

At last, the door opened, and when I turned to see who had come in, I almost wanted to shrink down into my shoes. It was a tall African-American man, and he looked very bad-ass in a black trench coat, black boots, and most significant of all, the black eye patch over his left eye. Everything I saw screamed that he was an assassin or government killer of some kind.

By now, I was beyond intimidated, and straight to scared stupid. My brain quickly imagined the different ways he could kill me in less than fifteen seconds, and none of them were pretty. I was in the middle of putting together a feeble escape plan (which probably wouldn't have worked anyway) when he leaned up against the desk and looked straight at me with his good eye, effectively freezing me in place as he seemed to size me up.

Looking the girl over, Nick quickly assessed her and mentally went through everything he knew about her.

According to the file that currently sat inside one of his jacket pockets, this was Adena Philips: 5'3" tall, with shoulder-length brown hair and dark brown eyes, and she was in her late twenties. She worked at a dental office as a receptionist, and lived alone, though her apartment was still close to her parents and younger brother. She was a well-educated college graduate, with a degree in the arts, and a love of history.

Looking at the actual person, Nick found that he liked what he saw. Right now, she was clearly afraid of him, but she also seemed to be thinking something over, possibly an escape plan. That was a good sign: she could function under pressure, at least a little. She also hadn't said or done anything to attract attention, and he could see that she was stretching out her patience as she waited for him to make his first move.

"Miss Philips," he greeted her, "I'm glad you could join me."

She shifted in her chair. "Well, you didn't give me much choice," she muttered resentfully.

Nick bit back a smile; the girl had some guts. "True enough. I'm sorry about the whole thing with the cars and suits, but I needed to get you here as quickly as possible. There are a few urgent matters that I'd like to discuss with you."

From inside his jacket, he produced a file folder. "I'm Nick Fury, director of a secret government agency known as S. H. I. E. L. D. This is the file we have on you, and I have to say that you've got some qualities that we would like to acquire for a specific task."

I swallowed nervously. "Please don't tell me you're going to turn me into a spy," I pleaded. "I'm terrible at acting, and would mess up everything in less than ten minutes."

He actually smiled at me. "No, we don't want you as a spy. Trust me; we've got a lot of good ones already. No, we need something that only a civilian can provide."

"Okay," I slowly drawled out, starting to get a little interested. "So what do you want me for?"

Director Fury looked at the file folder, which I could see had my name on the front. I, Adena Philips, had a file! Staring at the front of the folder, I swallowed nervously at what was in it as Director Fury explained.

"I need someone who has a calm, patient, kind personality, but who is also intelligent," he said, flipping through the pages. "Someone who can keep secret matters to themselves."

He closed the folder and put it aside. "The assignment is a difficult one. We have a soldier who has recently returned from a very long stay abroad, and he needs to be reintegrated back into the world. I need someone with the patience to teach him everything he's missed in his absence."

I stared at him. "Forgive me, sir, but don't you already have people for that? Aren't there vet hospitals and professionals who can help him? I don't understand why you need a civilian for this."

"It's a unique situation," he said. "Military personnel could do it, but this also requires the soldier to get back into civilian life as well. Therefore, I need a civilian who is in touch with the world to help him adapt and show him things from a regular person's point of view. I think you might be that person."

He shifted a little and took a seemingly relaxed lean against the desk. "It'll be a full-time job that could take months, or even years to complete. This man has been away for a long time, and it will take a lot of work to help him catch up on everything that's happened since he's been gone."

By now, I was starting to get worried. How long had this man been out of the loop, anyway? Even soldiers in third-world countries had some kind of touch with the outside world –it was how they stayed in touch with their families, and kept up-to-date on things. Where had they assigned him -under a rock on the moon?

I chewed my lower lip in thought. It sounded interesting, and like any patriotic American, I had great respect for those in the armed forces. This was my chance to give back to those who'd lost so much to fight for us, and I really did want to help this poor man.

But was I really the right person for this job? I had no experience teaching, not even as a tutor, so how was I going to teach a grown person things? Would this soldier even listen to what I said, or would he push it aside and go their own way? Things could go very badly for me if this person decided I wasn't worth their time.

"Can I have time to think about it?" I asked meekly.

"No," Fury bluntly stated. "This is important, even vital, and I need someone on this ASAP. I need your answer within the next few minutes so that I can get you going on this assignment."

Wow, if that didn't sound very 'secret government agency,' I don't know what did. And I was totally not the type to get involved in this kind of thing! So why me, of all people? I had to know.

"Director, sir, if I could ask another question?" He nodded. "Why me? Or at least, why do you have a file on me? I'm just an ordinary person. How did I get put on your radar?"

"Dr. Isaac Jacobs."

My jaw dropped –that I didn't expect. "Doctor Ike…the guy who lives next to my parents?" I asked in disbelief. "He's a pediatrician! What does he have to do with you?"

For a second, the director looked amused. "Isaac and I go way back. I think I can tell you that he wasn't always a doctor, and in certain matters, I trust his judgment. This is one of those situations.

"Over the years, he's been telling me a lot about a little girl that lived next door, one who he hired to help organize the patient files he keeps in his house. You worked for him for more than ten years, didn't you? Off-and-on, ever since you were a teenager?"

I nodded as he continued. "You helped him during your school vacations for extra money, and moved on to making it an after-school job. You were trusted with confidential information, and told no one what, exactly, you did. From this, I know you can keep something like this job a secret; or at least create a believable cover story for what you really do."

Fury smiled a little. "Isaac also said he saw great potential in you, but from what I read in your file, and from what he has told me, I know for a fact that you haven't reached even a fraction of that potential. You're quiet, you observe, and work subtly and effectively for things in life. For example, you want to help people, but you don't volunteer at the shelter –instead, you quietly give money or needed things to charity, without even claiming it on your tax forms or openly telling others what you've done.

"I need someone like you to help with this effort. Isaac said you're a good person who is silent when it counts, and willing to help people who need it. You keep your eyes and ears open, observe much, and can see what is needed and when." The corner of his mouth curved upwards into a smile. "Believe me, if you were skilled in 'acting,' as you put it, and capable of handling an assortment of weaponry, I'd be happy to make you a spy. But as it is, I need the civilian you already are."

I leaned back as he leaned forward, bringing his scrutinizing eye close to mine. "So what do you say, Miss Philips? Are you willing to take up this assignment? I can promise that this man is a good person, and wouldn't harm you in any way, not for the world."

Under his gaze, I began to tremble a little bit. All of this sounded a bit fishy to me, especially since there were places that a soldier could go to for help, all of them with fully trained professionals and specialists. This guy would have to be an extremely special case, for the feds to get someone just for him specifically.

But even if this was all rather interesting, I already had a job; a good, secure one, with benefits and everything. I told him that, but Fury just shook his head. "You'll be well-paid for your efforts and time, with excellent benefits. A car and driver will be put at your disposal, provided that you take your student with you."

Well, that was tempting, and very handy. "What if this doesn't work out?" I asked. "What if this soldier and I don't get along? What happens to me at that point?"

"I'll find you a position here that would be equal to, or better, than the one you currently have at your employers," he said.

That surprised me. Honestly, I'd thought that he'd have me assassinated or something, not offer me another job if this one didn't work out!

And it was pretty generous. A government car and driver at my beck-and-call? Not to mention good pay, and government benefits with a top-secret agency? They were bound to be above and beyond what the usual government worker got.

Not to mention that it was a job that sounded not only intriguing, but also rewarding on many levels. And sweet Doctor Ike, who had been like an uncle to me since I was little, clearly thought I was meant for something like this. I'd spent all of my teenage years working for him, and he'd taught me so much more than a regular employer would. He'd taught me patience and perspective; how to look at the bigger picture of certain things. Doc Ike had also helped me learn when to focus, and when to let my mind wander, because sometimes not thinking about things can lead to an answer or solution to a problem.

He had also taught me to trust my instincts, and right now, they were telling me to take this job. Besides, how could I resist helping someone who needed it?

"Alright, sir, I accept," I said, looking at him. "Who's my student supposed to be?"

He merely smiled at me and said, "I'll show you after you sign the paperwork."

After hours of signing papers, getting my blood tested, putting my DNA on file, and giving my fingerprints, I felt that the government had literally everything they could possibly need from me.

However, when I joked about it to Director Fury, he said that there were several other means of identification that they hadn't taken, but since I wasn't a spy or on any "need-to-know" lists, they pretty much had everything they needed. I couldn't tell if that was reassuring or not.

Afterwards, Fury led me back into the underground garage, where a black sedan sat waiting, and handed me in. In the front sat a driver, who I guessed was an agent, and another man, who was definitely an agent. Lucky for me, I wasn't blindfolded this time, so I was able to watch New York pass by and marvel at how impressive it all looked.

The car pulled up to an apartment building that looked way too nice for the average soldier to live in, but Fury got out and led me inside. Passing two reception desks, one on either side of the lobby, and each manned by three giant security guards, he took me to the elevator and up to the eighth floor.

During the walk down the hallway, I noticed that, even though the lobby was rather like a generic office reception area, the halls of the building were nicely furnished. I guessed that the people who lived here had to be pretty important, or at least valuable to the government.

It was also very clear that there weren't many apartment doors, either. I guessed that the living quarters had to be big, almost like penthouses, and that made me even more uneasy. Only the important and/or rich lived in large New York City apartments.

I held my breath as Fury led me to the last door at the end of the hall, and knocked. Inside, I braced myself for the worst: a soldier that might have been severely wounded in battle, or someone emotionally or psychologically drained by his time away from civilization. Meanwhile, my brain frantically tried to piece together a mass of comforting words, greetings, and politically correct things to say to him, so that we got off on the right foot.

The door opened, and the man standing there nearly made me fall over in shock.

"Oh, my God," I stammered.

AN: Review?