"We Have a System"

It is a requirement that anyone entering SHIELD's ranks is vetted from a distance, and that their first contact is with the medical team. Their status – Omega, Beta, or Alpha – is noted on a file no one except medical personnel can access, and they are then given an injection to cover their distinctive hormones. Only then can they meet the people with whom they will be training and working. This system was devised to eliminate prejudice-based bullying, reduce the chances of romantic entanglements based upon biology, and ensure fair treatment. A six-monthly visit to medical was compulsory, to update the injection. There were portable kits for long-term missions, with sufficient doses of temporary hormone-levelling serum.

It worked well. There was no discrimination based upon gender dynamics. SHIELD was the first organisation to implement this strategy, and had never faced any problems. If personnel wished to leave to begin a family, they were given an anti-serum far from headquarters. They would be unable to work for SHIELD were their dynamic to become known; but no one ever returned, content in surrendering to biology.

Then some idiot went and changed everything.

"Which idiot is that, sir?" Phil asked, voice as mild as usual.

"Banks. He questioned the suppressant regulation, because he claims that, as trained SHIELD agents, everyone can defend themselves."

"He's overconfident. He always has been."

Nick scowled. "I don't care about that. I care about the fact that now other people are backing him up on this. They're claiming it's because Omega rights have progressed over the years, and that workplace discrimination is a thing of the past."

"It's not really a problem here—"

"Because we have a motherfucking system!" Nick said, knocking his chair over as he stood up, and strode to the window. Phil admired his broad shoulders, and the way that leather coat fell around his boss (friend), almost flowing like water.

Phil knew, as well as anyone, that appearances could be deceptive. Most of the people who worked for SHIELD were badass; some were just better at hiding it than others. He knew there were rumours about him – justifiable rumours – which were based on missions he had completed as far as back as his first outings when he was a junior agent. He had a reputation as a ninja (he preferred the terms 'sneaky' or 'knows how to walk quietly'), as a BAMF in brand-name suits, as the only agent who could spar with Natasha Romanov and come out on top. He was best friends with the director. Which is why most people assumed that Phil was an Alpha, even a Beta.

They were wrong.

Nick's assertiveness, when they first met, appealed to Phil on so many levels. He'd always appreciated confidence and sass in a person, and Nick was also extremely easy on the eye. (Just an interesting side note.) Gender dynamics meant nothing to Phil, and it was frustrating that his head would be so easily turned by an Alpha. But, as far as he knew, Nick could be an Omega, just like Phil; although that would have no impact on his feelings for the man.

"What do you suggest we do?" he asked. Nick was still staring out the window. He spun around on one heel.

"It's spreading, like some goddamned STD," he said, and he sat down again, leaning forward on his elbows. Phil could have damn near fallen into those dark eyes, subject matter aside. "I got a petition, asking for the suppressants to be completely eliminated."

Phil frowned, and looked at the submission Nick handed to him. He skimmed over the text, and gazed at the list of signatures. Some of his (unofficial) favourites were on this list.

"Why not make it voluntary?" he asked. "Those who don't want to take the injections anymore can have the anti-serum, and those who wish their status to remain private can opt to continue their treatment." Like me, he thought.

"I'm issuing a memo suggesting that tomorrow," Nick said. Phil pushed the paper back across the desk. Nick reached for it at the same time, and their fingers brushed. It was glancing, but intense, and Phil quickly retracted his hand. It wasn't the first time he'd felt some kind of spark between them. But it was an unrealistic expectation that Nick could feel anything for him in return.

One of the other rumours about Phil was that he was an unfeeling robot. Even after he got a sceptre through the heart (or in that general vicinity) those rumours persisted.

It wasn't only that people generally thought him unlovable on more than one level. Nick was younger than him. Not by much, but Phil felt so much older, especially since Loki's attack slowed him down. He was finally back to peak physical health; but he bore scars, inside and outside, and he didn't know which of the two made him feel more ancient.

Besides, there'd never been any hint of reciprocation. Phil was aware, when he was younger, that he wasn't the image of an ideal Omega. He was past his prime, nearing the end of his child-bearing years, and he loathed the idea of dragging Nick down.

So he'd remained silent all this time. The injections were a good idea, and he'd never considered domesticity. He still didn't give it much thought.

But now this was staring him in the face, threatening to tear apart his carefully-ordered world.

"I'm telling you this so you know what to expect," Nick said. "I didn't want you to be caught out."

"You… know my status?"

"No. But you're my friend, and one of my top agents. Hill fielded this for me, so I don't need to tell her. I'll let others know, but you were the first person I wanted to see."

It didn't mean anything. Phil was sure it didn't mean anything.

"Thank you for the thought," he said. "But why would you need to warn anyone?"

"Because they could push for this to be compulsory."

"They can't force people to reveal their dynamic, sir. If they don't mind telling people, fine. But it's not just for workplace relationships or for safety. Without the suppressant, any perfumes that agents wear on a mission will clash with their natural hormones and blow their cover."

"I've thought of that," Nick said. "Believe me, I've looked at every possible angle. They'll probably argue that a temporary suppressant would work in place of the injection. Denying them the right to express their true selves; that's how they'll describe the system. You know how fucked up these issues can get."

Phil stood up, and began to pace. "If they're Alphas, they probably want to display their alleged dominance. If they're Omegas, maybe they're feeling… broody, but they want to keep working at SHIELD. And if they're Betas, they don't have as much to fear… to worry about as anyone else. They've got nothing to lose."

"Coulson, sit down."

"If they don't want to work under these conditions, they could go work for the CIA, for God's sake—"

"Coulson!"

Phil halted immediately.

"I apologise, sir."

"I know you hate it when people fuck with regulations for no reason. You mostly do things by the book yourself." Phil's lips quirked up. "But if, for some insane reason, this shit goes ahead, we'll organise lectures on appropriate workplace behaviour. You can lead the classes; they'll listen to you."

Not if they know I'm an Omega, Phil thought. It was an unfair but reasonable supposition.

"Whatever you say, boss," he said, suddenly feeling weary. "Any further orders?"

Nick was studying him, frowning. "Get back to work, Coulson."

Phil nodded. If he said anything, he might break a regulation right then, and tell Nick what was worrying him most of all.

Losing this man's respect.


When he was younger, Nick Fury thought he'd never be attracted to another Alpha; but he'd realised, virtually since the day he met Phil, that all preconceived notions would have to be discarded. The guy was unflappable, even in the most intense situations, and creative in ways no one would expect just by looking at him. He was fascinating, could snark with the best of them, and was gorgeous in anything he wore. On lonely nights, Nick liked to imagine how mouth-watering Phil would be butt naked.

The problem was that it was damn near impossible to read the guy. He was the kind of man whose gender would surprise; most people, when first meeting him, would presume he was a Beta. But Nick had seen Phil displaying stereotypical Alpha behaviour. He never let himself be cowed, he was aggressive when necessary, he bested other Alphas, and there was never even a hint of longing when he saw children.

And Nick was never good at falling for somebody attainable. Phil was, in some ways, Nick's opposite. He was diplomatic, wise, naturally charming, mild-mannered, and he saw the best in people. Nick, on the other hand, was none of those. Sometimes he thought of them as the yin and the yang. (Sometimes he wondered what his parents would think if they met Phil.) ((Sometimes he wondered whether there was an alternate reality where a Phil Coulson wanted to be with him.))

But nothing. Never any hint of returned attraction. Just a polite subordinate who happened to be his best friend as well.

Nick had seen all kinds of relationships fall apart before. His own parents were Beta-Omega, and they got along fine. Still in love, and all that romantic bullshit. Alpha-Alpha and Omega-Omega pairings worked out better these days, but they would always be more problematic than balanced-dynamic relationships. No matter gender, male or female, biology worked against them, which meant that humankind also worked against them.

If this went ahead, and Nick's status was confirmed, he wouldn't have much chance of convincing Phil to give it a try. Even assuming Agent By-the-Books Coulson would have agreed to a date before… this would destroy any chances.

"Sir?"

"Yeah?" he said, looking up at Hill.

"Do you still want me to send the draft of the memo to Agent Coulson?" she asked. "For his approval."

"I don't need his approval," Nick said, baring his teeth. Maria remained unfazed.

"But you always ask for his input on any of the more… sensitive organisation-wide communications," she said as she picked up the petition.

"Yeah, well, I plan to get the point across with this one," he said.

"You always say that, sir."

"Are you answering back, Agent Hill?"

"I'm just confirming your directives, sir."

"Then type up the communiqué as I wrote it, and get ready to send it out tomorrow."

She studied him for a moment, and then nodded briskly.

"Yes, sir," she said, and she left the office with half a dozen long steps. Nick wondered why the hell it was that the biggest smart-ass agents always reached the highest ranks at SHIELD. He had to deal with them personally, goddamnit.


On reflection, maybe he should've let Phil proofread (i.e. rewrite) the memo. The backlash from certain quarters was more than he'd anticipated, and he should've known that someone would already have a counter-argument written. Fucking Banks.

"They're saying that Omegas should be proud of who they are, and that if anyone wants to hide their status it… reflects badly on them. Among other things, they're accused of having something to hide, being cowards, and ashamed of their own biology, in that order."

"Surely they realise someone is going to stand up against this?" Phil said. Nick glared at him.

"Banks – or whoever the fuck this is – goes on to say that if anyone disagrees with him, they're the ones trying to hide," he said.

"Is it cowardice to stick with a system which has been in place for decades?" Jasper asked, raising an eyebrow. "New to me."

"If we sack these people, there'll be huge repercussions," Nick said. It needed saying. "This is nearly half the people at headquarters. We'd be turning out trained killers who could take over the goddamned country."

"They're already holding us to ransom," Maria said, gesturing to the documents on Nick's desk.

"I know that!"

"The thing is," Phil said quietly, "if we started this, we could never go back. There are three obvious courses. One, we take disciplinary action against the people responsible for this; but by now, all the questions have been laid out on the table, and everyone at SHIELD will want answers. Two, we either fire, imprison, or execute the people on this list." He paused. "I would advise against this. As you said, they could take over if we let them out, no prison would hold them for long, and that's too many people to kill. I don't want that much blood on my hands, and it will turn everyone else against us." He breathed in and out slowly, and then met Nick's eye. "Three… we give them what they want, and stop doling out the suppressants."

"You think that's the best option?"

"Sir, we're pressed for time. I hate it as much as anyone else, maybe more so. I know my people, and I don't want anyone to be made uncomfortable. If we stall for time, we might be able to turn those who don't want this against those who do. We don't have enough anti-serum here for all of SHIELD, and there could be a convenient delay in the shipment. I'm sure medical will help us with that."

"How do we get the others on our side?" Nick asked. He leaned forward, always drawn towards Phil. He hoped Maria and Jasper couldn't tell.

"Counter-arguments. All the reasons the system was created. If it comes to that, subtle reminders that Banks and his followers are being looked at unfavourably. Laws regarding Omega and Beta rights versus Alpha rights. I'm sure Steve Rogers would be happy to speak to them about what the army was like in his day. Before World War Two, there were strict regulations against Omegas joining the army, and Betas couldn't even make captain. It was only in desperate times that Omegas were accepted, and the war was one of those desperate times. That was when the suppressant was created, even before the super soldier serum was in development. It was predominantly to cover hormones and prevent heats from coming on."

Whenever Phil displayed his in-depth knowledge of history (especially pertaining to Captain America's era), he glowed. It took Nick half a minute before he could reply.

"You call Rogers and arrange something," he said. "Sitwell, find out the names of those we'll talk to first. Hill, you've got contacts who can get copies of past legislation, right?"

"Look through current legislation, too," Phil said.

"I'll get right on it," she said.

"Then go get started," Nick said.

"What're you going to do?" Phil asked as Maria and Jasper left.

"I'm gonna talk to medical."


Steve tilted his head. Phil secretly thought of him as a confused puppy in these moments.

"Why would someone want to do that?" he asked. "People shouldn't have to reveal something they don't want to. I mean," his lips curled up at the edges, "isn't SHIELD all about keeping secrets?"

"And extracting them from other people," Phil said. Steve chuckled. "If they're so against hiding their status, I'm partially in favour of allowing them to go off the suppressant. But…" He sighed. "It's a bad idea. Places like the Helicarrier weren't designed to handle all the pheromones that would pervade the air. No matter how kick-ass the female agents can be, they're still looked down on by some of the men. If those men turn out to be Alphas, and some of the women turn out to be Betas or Omegas…"

"Are those the men urging this to go forward?"

"Some, yes. Not all of them, which makes me think those who aren't are either Betas or Omegas, and they've been overcompensating. I know that's an assumption, but—"

"No, it makes sense," Steve said. "There's something else, isn't there?"

Phil wasn't going to start talking about his feelings for his boss; they had no bearing on the situation.

"Even if only a quarter of the organisation went off the suppressants at once, the hormone rush would be catastrophic. The people who work for SHIELD are trained to fight and kill. No matter how controlled they are, that level of stimulation could prove dangerous."

"I'll bet."

"If it's compulsory, and everyone is given the anti-serum on the same day…"

Steve sighed. "I'll do what I can to help, Phil, but I don't know how much good it'll do. They're just going to see me as another Alpha."

"You're not just any Alpha, Steve. You're Captain America."

"Oh yeah? Do you teach the Captain America Appreciation Course?"

"Funny."

"I'm a funny guy."


The matter was 'under consideration' for three days before the Anti-Suppressant Society (Phil mentally referred to them as ASS) threatened to strike. Which definition of the word 'strike' they intended was never clarified. Phil could tell that the tension was starting to get to Nick, and stayed after a meeting. He was always proud that Nick was comfortable enough to let himself relax when they were alone. Nick sank his head into his hands with a groan, and slumped over in his chair. Phil walked around the back of the chair, grasped Nick's shoulders, and began to rub them.

"The hell are you doing, Coulson?"

"You're not in an ideal position for a massage, sir. This is the best I can do."

Nick was silent for a minute; then he sat up and leaned back into Phil's touch. A flash of excitement ran through him, and he dug his thumbs in a bit harder. Nick moaned, causing some very graphic images to form in Phil's mind.

"Goddamn miracle worker," Nick muttered. He hissed. "Yeah. Just there."

Phil flushed, but he kept going. "Rogers is free to come in tomorrow. He sent an email half an hour ago. I don't know how you want to approach this, but he's happy to do anything to help."

"Good." Nick relaxed further, and Phil moved his hands to the upper back. The way his friend arched produced more inappropriate images. Fortunately, Phil had ensured that his clothes were specially designed to hide any suspicious bulges. He claimed it was for weapons and ammunition; Clint and Natasha sure as hell weren't fooled, but they knew better than to comment.

Still, Phil leaned onto the back of the chair as he rubbed lower. Nick was bending forward again. Damn it, even that was giving him bad thoughts.

"How's that, sir?" Phil asked, keeping his voice even.

"Fucking brilliant. Need to get you to massage me more often."

Phil was glad that Nick was facing down. "I'd better get back to work. Any orders for Ste— Rogers?"

"I'll think it over. Get back to you tomorrow."

That was when Nick sat up. He'd never looked so peaceful before, and his smile was utterly devastating. Phil was the deer caught in the headlights. In his case, though, nothing could've knocked him over. He was frozen to the spot. It was only when Nick's smile started to disappear that he found it in him to move.

"Okay," he said, and he tried to walk out of the room without stumbling. "I'll… see you later, Nick. Sir."

With a mental shake of his head, he hurried out the door, cheeks more aflame than ever.


Fuck. That was it. Just when Rogers seemed to have won everyone over; just when logic seemed to be working; just when the whole damn thing seemed to be resting in peace, everything went FUBAR. Everything. Half the suppressants in the infirmary somehow became contaminated. Five agents who were due for their dose somehow ended up locked in an interrogation room, unconscious, and unable to get out. And somehow the ringleaders of ASS had evidence that they couldn't possibly have done any of it.

Nick owed Tony Stark for proving that the evidence had been faked, and for proving that Banks and his pals were responsible.

Unfortunately, it was too late for those unfortunate five agents, the two who were now sick from contaminated serum, and the four who were on the petition, and refused their injection. `Cause now there were nine agents 'outed', two on their way; and with more injections due in the next few days, and the suppressant hard to get express, they were screwed. All thanks to half a dozen agents too impatient and single-minded.

"The only silver lining," Sitwell said, "is that at least we can throw their asses in jail now."

Nick snorted. "Not before I teach them not to fuck with me."

"It's not fair on the others," Hill said. "They could go back on the suppressant, but everyone knows their dynamics now. They're already facing problems."

"Anyone caught harassing them will face the consequences," Sitwell said, frowning.

"No one can do anything about a pair of eyes checking you out, or a nose breathing you in. The perpetrators could claim to be victims of biology, and it would be hard to prove that they're lying. This is why the system was good. This is why it worked."

"And now it's gone," Phil said softly. This was the first time he'd spoken since they gathered in the briefing room an hour ago, Nick realised.

"We could release them from SHIELD, but they're good agents, among the best," Hill said. "They've worked hard to get where they are. They shouldn't be punished."

"They could go into law enforcement, or the security services," Sitwell said. "But their statuses could be leaked. They might as well just stay here."

"We've run out of choices," Phil said, and he straightened his spine. "I'm not letting my agents go this alone. But don't think I won't hand Banks' ass to him on a plate, publicly, for forcing our hands. Nobody messes with my people."

It was times like this when Nick wanted to kiss his best friend.


This has ended up much longer than expected. It's my own fault for adding plot.

So! This fic is based on a prompt from the Avengers Assemble Kinkmeme on LJ, for Omega!Coulson/Alpha!Fury. You can find the prompt on page 77 of round… 20? This was only going to be a short-ish one-shot. Instead, it's now a long-ish two-shot. All because I decided to add plot. Gah!