Disclaimer: The Avengers characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.

Reviews are always welcome and appreciated

**author's note**

I had the next few stories I'll be posting planned out before Agents of SHIELD aired and the first drafts complete before Captain America 2. It's going to be a few stories before the events from the movie factor into my writing. I did go back through the next few stories and try to add form continuity for the movie. Most of these things doesn't impact this story anyways, because it occurs long before the Avengers movie, and just after Barton joins SHILED. A good story to read before this would be Pound of Flesh but it shouldn't be necessary.

Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown

Chapter 1 Regrets collect like old friends

The whispers seemed to pause as the people parted, hugging the walls of SHIELD headquarters to give the agent room to move down the hall. The fresh stitches neatly sewn above his right eye, that still oozed slightly would give the office mice something new to talk about come morning and for days to come. Had it been anyone else, the effect of getting people to clear your path and fear you without cause, would have gone to gone to their head, but Coulson still made it a point to smile politely at the other agents and employees that tactfully avoid eye contact. The newest Director of SHIELD had quite a reputation, the designation of being Fury's right hand man meaning that Fury's reputation and awe had in turn passed onto Coulson. Not that the famous Agent Coulson hadn't earned that respect in his own right.

Phil paused for a moment before rounding the corner to Fury's office. Catching his reflection in one of the glass panes he straightened his tie and jacket, still slightly askew from medical. He gave Miranda a warm smile as the secretary buzzed him in to the office.

"You can go right in, the Director has been waiting for you," she offered in a pleasant tone, not betraying whether her boss was in a good mood, bad mood or Fury mode.

"Thank you," replied Phil, boldly stepping into the intimidating office. The metal and glass décor as cold as its resident.

Fury looked up from his desk, the large backed chair and dark wood desk suiting his ability to intimidate without words. Phil stood at attention, letting Fury scrutinize every inch with his stone cold eye. "You missed the briefing," stated the Director, his voice even and impassive.

"Yes sir, sorry sir, won't happen again," answered Coulson, all manners of professionalism pouring out of every pore.

"See that it doesn't." The subtle hand gesture for Phil to take a seat was the only sign of relief from Fury that his friend had returned mostly unscathed. "How was Rome?"

"Warm this time of year."

"Not what I was asking," countered Fury. He leaned forward, his fingers steepled under his chin. Stall tactics didn't work for the junior agents, they certainly weren't going to work for a senior agent.

"The informant delivered the goods. The information has been verified and looks to prove useful." It was left unsaid that Phil still disagreed with the number of lives it took to bring the information to the light of day, but Fury had been right, it would prove necessary for many agents and future missions.

"I'm still waiting for the but, Coulson."

Phil was never sure if it was the weight of the information, of knowing the consequences and implications of it that made divulging things to Fury so stressful. Perhaps it was the lack of emotion from the man before him, the unwavering intimidation that made the situation feel more like an interrogation than a conversation. Swallowing, he added, "The Russians are sending in the Black Widow."

The famous Black Widow, feared by good guys and bad guy alike; with an impressive number of confirmed missions and suspected missions under her belt, the assassin was feared by any self-respecting person in the business. Anyone familiar with her work had to admire it; it was thorough and always seemed to be pulled off seamlessly. She even had an impressive amount of success against SHIELD, which in and of itself should be admired if not for the number of lives this one variable had taken from the agency.

The slight twitch of Fury's eyebrow was a tell-tale sign of his peeked interest. It was almost like a personal challenge against him, to see if he could still bring the mission to a close now that the Widow had entered the game. "That does complicate things."

"It does."

"See that you put someone on that. The Black Widow has my attention, I want her removed before she has my undivided attention," the Director ordered, raising an eyebrow as he tilted his head for emphasis.

Phil nodded, running through his mental list of possible candidates he could put on the case. The loud thud of a very large report hitting Fury's desk pulled his attention back to more pressing matters. Coulson picked up the notes from the morning's briefing, casually flipping through the pages to get a general sense of what he missed. Clearly his night was going to be devoted to going through the large document in more detail.

Fury leaned back, his leather coat creaking as he made himself comfortable. He watched his friend read, waiting for the tell tale look that he found the item they needed to discuss. Sure enough, the agent's face scrunched up at the appropriate places.

Phil raised his head to stare at Fury, not bothering to hide his confusion on the matter. "This can't be right sir." He had seen a lot of things in his day, some very unbelievable things, but something about this just didn't feel right. Feeling was all he really had on this subject.

"Intelligence feels they have enough evidence to put him on the list. This mole is good, but they have narrowed it down to five people." The problem had been kept quiet, but Fury's disposition had obviously been one of fury since the notion that one of his own was double crossing his organization.

Coulson stared at the second name on the list, the bold type emphasizing his disbelief. "I don't think Barton would bite the hand that feeds, Nick."

In truth, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that the archer could be selling out SHIELD. He hadn't exactly come aboard willingly and the five months locked down in medical followed by seven months of self imposed isolation hadn't endeared the young man to his coworkers. In fact most people avoid the archer whenever possible, giving him lots of opportunities to access classified information.

Coulson had given him an opportunity to right his wrongs, to make a difference instead of dying at the end of the dark path he had been on. It was a decision born out of a gut feeling that there was something more under the cold brash exterior but Phil didn't know him, not really. He might have been so blinded by the shred of humanity he thought he saw, that it all could have been part of Barton's plan to infiltrate, and dismantle from the inside.

"That's what I've been talking about. What is it with this kid that keeps you from looking at him like an agent assessing an asset?" questioned Fury. The use of his first name had been a dead giveaway that Phil was pleading as a friend and not an agent, that this had become personal and not professional.

"I just… I don't see Barton betraying us. Giving him a chance, that's something he wouldn't throw away lightly."

It was a hard position to defend. Fury trusted Coulson, the man was rarely wrong, but he couldn't very well eliminate a suspect based on intuition. Barton fit the profile, he was distant from everyone, he and authority certainly didn't get along; it wasn't as if the kid had ties to anything or anyone to keep him connected to SHIELD. More importantly, he was trouble.

Reaching into the top drawer of his desk, the Director pulled out a medium manila folder. "I have here in my hand thirty-two complaints against trainee Barton," he informed before slamming that file on his desk. Being the constant center of negative attention would be a good deflection for other activities and certainly didn't help Barton's cause when it came to eliminating him as the mole.

"Only thirty-two," sighed Phil. The agent was good but when it came to following orders, the archer's interpretation of them seemed to be called into question more often than not. Coulson had to give the kid some latitude, he'd managed to pull some of the most difficult senior agents as supervisors. Phil was slightly relieved that Fury hadn't been advised of Barton's difficulties until now.

"What, is he having a slow week?" Fury snapped, Phil's sudden avoidance of eye contact proof the man had been censoring the information he was sharing with his superior and long time friend. "It is only Wednesday so I guess we'll give him that, but it's thirty-two pains in my ass Coulson. I don't run a babysitting service, so congratulations, you just inherited a problem. I'm putting you in charge of him when we get to base, assuming Agent Horn hasn't strangled him beforehand. You will watch him, assess him and if he is on our side you will whip him into shape, do I make myself clear?"

Phil held his ground under the intense glare. "Perfectly sir."

"I'm going to be keeping my eye on him Coulson and if I see anything I don't like, I will not hesitate to use the bullet you were supposed to put in him." The warning was clear, there would be no mercy based on sentimentality. Cold hard facts would decide the young man's fate, betrayal would be tolerated by none. "I need to know that my agent can make the call himself."

If it turned out to be true, Phil knew he could do it, defend the organization and everything he believed in from those that would sell them out, but he knew he'd require more evidence than Fury. "If it turns out that Barton isn't friendly, I will not hesitate sir."

"See that you don't," added the Director sternly. "Go relax somewhere, you've earned it. Wheels up at 0400 tomorrow." Fury waved his hand dismissively.

Phil left, the briefing heavy in his hands as he made his way to his office. There was no way he was going to relax until he analyzed and scrutinized every bit of evidence that was condemning Barton. He had made the call to give the archer a chance, to bring him in, if he was wrong, then Coulson was going to be the one to find out and deal with it.