CHAPTER 1 ~ INTERROGATION, AND AN OFFER

Clark Kent sat in the interrogation room of what he assumed was an underground army base, and gritted his teeth. Lois had made a call to her father after he'd lost it, and he'd been taken into custody by an unmarked SWAT team, or so he thought. He sat handcuffed to a steel chair. In front of him was a steel table, where another chair identical to his own though unoccupied at the moment, and just behind it lay a glass two way mirrored door. Four hours had passed as e sat there waiting for whatever was to come, and with each passing hour, the weariness of his situation grew. These people had no idea who, or what they were dealing with. They may have thought they had brought him here when in truth he chose to come. If he'd wanted to he could easily break through his restraints like tissue paper and be out of there before they could so much as blink. But that wasn't what was needed at this point, for if he chose to reveal his true nature then he'd put everyone, and everything he cared about. So, for now, he'd humor these people as long as it suited his purpose too. Glancing up at the camera he growled.

"Any day now would be nice!"

Then quite suddenly the door in front of him opened, and a short middle-aged man walked in. He wore a business suit that made his appearance look as though he'd just came out of a meeting with the president himself. He smiled apologetically at the Clark.

"My apologies Mr. Kent for the long wait. Can I get you anything? Water? Juice? Maybe an apple?"

Clark looked sideways at the older man and raised his shoulders slightly.

"And just how do you propose I enjoy them with my hands cuffed, hm? I'll pass."

"Suit yourself. I may have offered to take those handcuffs off you, but not with that attitude." Clark rolled his eyes as the older man smiled. "Right then let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Do I have a choice...?"

"Not really. So...Timothy Westcott of Smallville, meteor infected mutant and was able to turn to moving dust at will up until recently. According to the reports, I've read he sustained very serious injuries that disabled his mutant abilities for life. Injuries I might also add that were administered by you. In short, you nearly killed him Mr. Kent, Why?"

"He wanted my girlfriend...Alicia-" He broke off as he spoke her name, and tears ran down his cheeks. The other man's heart went out to him. He understood what loss felt like. He stretched out a hand, and rest it on his shoulder.

"It's okay son, you don't have to-" Clark shook him off, and glared up at him. "He wanted her to take the wrap for nearly killing two innocent people. People I knew, and when she refused to go along with the sadistic plan he killed her. He killed the woman I loved! So forgive me if you're justice system just wasn't good enough for me at the time!"

The other man smiled softly but didn't respond otherwise.

"I know you probably think I'm some kind of psycho, but I'm not. I just did what anyone else would have done in that situation."

"Which was fracturing his larynx permanently, breaking his arms, legs, while crushing several ribs, and not to mention putting him in a comma. I think that's overdoing it just a little bit, don't you?"

Clark shrugged. "Well..."

"It's a good thing General Lane's daughter stopped you by called us when she did. As for what you're going through I can relate sort of. I was killed and brought back. But for safety reasons which are classified the woman I loved and the rest of the world have to think I am dead. So believe me I understand loss."

"So, you got a name, or do I call you John Doe?"

"Funny, But no. Phil Coulson."

"So Doctor Phil, now that you've psychoanalyzed me care to explain why am I here?"

"Keep it up, and I'll have you looking a lot worse for wear than you are now."

"I'd like to see you try..."

"I'm afraid that would be wasting both your time and mine. Besides I've got better things to do than trade insults with a kid. "

"I'm sure you do Doc-."

"Okay let's get one thing straight! This bad boy routine may fly with others but it doesn't' fly with me! So from this point on you will address me as Coulson, and nothing else. Any more cocky remarks and I'll ship your carcass out of here where you'll be put in solitary confinement for the rest of your natural life. Are we clear?!"

"Whatever you say, Coulson."

"Now then, You're probably wondering why you're not rotting in a padded room at Belle Reeve right now?" Clark nodded, and Coulson continued... "Well if you keep up your smart-mouthed attitude you could still go there. In fact, some people think you should."

"But you think differently."

"Yes. I think that you're capable achieving great things. You just need someone to teach you the proper discipline."

"Oh, and who would that be you? Yea...Not happening. Just who are you anyway? FBI, or CIA?"

"Neither. Remember the alien invasion attempt in New York City a few months back?"

"Uh, yea, Who doesn't. Captain America's team of Avengers sent them packing. But if you're telling me you're one of them then they must be scrapped the bottom of the man-hall barrel."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't any of that hear that."

"Go ahead, won't change the fact."

"Perhaps. But anyway, I work for the organization the Avengers answer too. SHIELD. Our job is to protect the world from threats that local, and federal agencies are ill-equipped to handle. Now what I can offer you is a chance to make the world a better place...a chance to be a part of something bigger. Or you can rot in a cell for however long they decide to put you in there. But just know that when I walk, this deal goes with me. Are we clear?"

Clark sat there in silence for a moment considering his options. This was a big step for him, and if he didn't choose carefully things could go really wrong. To go with him could mean exposing himself to the not only a government agency but quite possibly the world. It also meant putting his family in danger, or perhaps imprisoned for harboring an alien. However, if he didn't take the offer the meteor freaks in Belle Reeve could kill, or worse send someone to kill his friends, and family while he was locked up. It was a difficult choice to be sure. After giving it some thought he made up his mind and looked Colson directly in the eye. "I think that to be trained as an agent, and maybe even an avenger could be very beneficial for me as opposed to rotting in a cell."

Colson nodded. "A mature answer good. Then-"

Clark cut him off. "But only provided certain terms are met."

The older man raised an eyebrow at him. He was in no position to talk about conditions; still, it might be good to at least hear him out. "Such as."

"First no actions are taken against my family, or friends ever in any situation for any reason at all."

"Done, and if I were in your place I'd want the same for my loved ones."

"I'm sure. Next, I get to go home every weekend. My father still has a farm to run, and needs my help."

"We could send some of our people to do that work for you, undercover of course."

"Colson, if you want me on your team, then this is how I need it done. He took a deep breath. "Please?"

Colson nodded. "I don't think that it should be a problem, next?"

"My family and friends are to know nothing of what's transpired here, or what I am doing unless I say. I can't put them in any danger"

Colson nodded again in understanding. "As far as they're concerned you took a plea bargain, and got sent to a boarding school for troubled kids."

"Also they must be under SHIELD'S protection without them knowing."

"You have my word, anything else?"

Just one more thing. If you go back on your word, or if anyone else who knows of our arrangement so much as takes a step near my family to get to me, rest assured you won't have time to regret it because I'll bury you both alive, Clear?"

"Totally."

"Good, I'm leaving now."

And just like that Clark broke free of his restraints, stood, and went to the door. As he approached the door Colson spoke stopping him in his tracks "You'll need to report to Captain Rogers first thing Monday morning at 0600. He'll be handling the first stage of your training till we had you over to Agent Romanoff for stage two. Until such time you may resume your normal routine of life."

Clark looked from Colson to the door and smiled. He then slammed his fist through the door shattering it into a million pieces before turning back to Colson who'd drawn his gun and was pointing it at him. Clark looked from Colson to the gun, then back again. He smirked at the older man, and in one fluid motion grabbed Colson's run faster than the eye could follow. He held it in front of Colson and crushed it with his bare hand.

Colson stared at Clark in shock as he dropped what was his weapon on the floor. Clark spoke in a very serious tone. "Remember our arrangement, because that lil display was just a preview of what I'm really capable of." Colson just nodded still shaken by what he'd seen. And without another word Clark turned on his heel, and swaggered out laughing as he went.

After he'd left Colson got out his phone, and put it to his ear as made a call. "Hill, get me Director Fury on the line now!" He paced while he was being transferred, and thought about what he'd just seen. The only other person he knew that was that fast or strong was his childhood hero Steve Rogers alias Captain America. To have Kent on the team could be a good thing as long as he played by the rules, but if he went rogue...His thoughts were broken by a voice on the other end of the line.

"What is it, Colson?"

"Director Fury, I think we might have a potential problem."