Fury leaned forward. "We're going to talk about… the Avengers Initiative."
James stared at him.
"With me?" he asked flatly. "I'm just an intern."
Fury smirked. "For now."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"One mission and I'm already on my way to a promotion. So, what's the deal with the Avengers Initiative?" James asked, pretending he didn't already know. He had to play dumb — at this point, it was just an idea floating around SHIELD. Nothing formal yet. And Stark? He'd be the first on the invite list.
"We'll talk when we get there," Nick Fury said, standing up. "There's someone else who needs to hear it too. Besides, Stark just outed himself as Iron Man. The whole world's buzzing."
Nick headed toward the mini-bar. "Want something to drink?"
"Coke with ice," James said.
Fury raised a brow. "Just Coke? No Rum?"
James held up his right hand and mimicked pulling a trigger. "Can't shoot straight with alcohol in the system."
Fury chuckled. "Fair enough. At least you're committed."
He dropped a few cubes into the glass and handed it over. "But you're already a millionaire. So why SHIELD? Why not just retire and enjoy the high life?"
"I could," James said, taking a sip. "But that's boring. My first twenty years were quiet. Too quiet. I want something that makes me feel alive. Something that matters and would allow me to leave a legacy."
He paused. "But if I'm so 'special,' why am I labeled an intern?"
Fury leaned against the counter. "Assassins and agents aren't the same thing. You're great at eliminating targets, sure. But, for SHIELD work? It's more than that — surveillance, undercover operations, managing intel, tech protocols, classified systems... You're new to all of it. And frankly, we don't fully trust you yet."
Before James could respond, Fury's phone rang.
"Fury…"
He turned away, voice low. "A frozen what? Found him? Still alive?... Good. Ship it to New York HQ when it's stable. I'll deal with it after this."
Fury hung up, his expression unreadable.
James didn't bite. "Not gonna ask. If I need to know, you'll tell me. If I don't… I won't hear a word."
Fury nodded with a smirk. "Now that's sounding like a real agent."
James finished his Coke and opened his laptop, checking the live feed of his stocks.
Stark Industries: $80.65 a share.
With five million shares in his pocket, James had just crossed over $400 million in value. And the number was still climbing.
Two hours later, the SHIELD jet touched down in California.
A black SUV picked them up and drove them through winding coastal roads until they reached Stark's cliffside mansion.
"Welcome to Stark Villa," said the automated voice of J.A.R.V.I.S. "Mr. Stark is not currently at home. Do you have an appointment?"
Fury stepped forward and entered a code on the keypad.
James blinked. "You have his security password?"
Fury shrugged. "We're SHIELD. It's what we do."
The doors unlocked, and they stepped inside.
The place screamed wealth — floor-to-ceiling glass, ocean views, tech in every corner. But it also screamed vulnerability. Remote location, minimal defenses. James glanced around, thinking about Iron Man 3 and how this place would one day become rubble.
He sank into the couch and waited.
Dusk crept in before Tony finally arrived.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.?"
"Welcome back, sir," the AI replied.
Tony froze at the sight of James lounging around and Fury gazing out over the water.
"Okay… Ace, how the hell did you get in here? And who's your friend?"
"Nick Fury. Director of SHIELD," Fury said, turning around to face him.
Tony raised a brow. "Ah. The mysterious man behind the curtain."
Fury didn't waste time. "Mr. Stark. You've made headlines. But you're not the only superhero out there. We're assembling something bigger."
"A fan club?" Tony asked dryly. "Look, I appreciate the invite, but I prefer solo gigs."
Fury shook his head. "This isn't a team-building exercise. It's the start of the Avengers Initiative."
Tony turned to James. "And you? Wesley Gibson, right? You're the sniper who owns five million shares of my company now. Didn't peg you for a stock guy."
"I used to be an accountant, and now I'm James, Agent James," James said casually.
Tony snorted. "An accountant turned assassin turned agent? What's next, ballet?"
James smirked. "Not flexible enough."
Fury stepped in. "James has a unique physiology — heart rate spikes over 400 BPM, adrenaline surges on command. Reflexes, strength, sensory input — all enhanced. He's on the shortlist for the Avengers."
Tony folded his arms. "So you're recruiting super-freaks now?"
"We're preparing," Fury said. "Aliens exist. We've found traces of extraterrestrial activity across the globe. If — when — something comes, we need people who can fight back. Soldiers can't stop what's out there. But you can."
Tony raised a hand. "Hard pass. I build suits. I don't join boy bands."
He turned to James. "You sure you want in on this? I could use someone to manage my finances. Flexible hours. Probably less chance of getting shot."
James shook his head. "I like my life with a little risk. I've got money. Now I want a purpose."
"Smart guy. Fine. You want a drink?"
Fury has had enough. "We're done here. We'll meet again."
As they walked out, James raised an eyebrow. "We flew cross-country just for that?"
Fury shrugged. "We put the idea in his head. That's our job. The threats we're facing won't always come from this planet. You still in?"
James nodded. "Sure. Just tell me if my guns work on them. If not, I'm not dying swinging a dagger at aliens."
Fury smirked. "We'll supply the hardware."
He opened the SUV door. "Now get in. We're heading back to New York. You start your training tomorrow. Times Square HQ. Bright and early."
James sighed. "This is the most flying I've done in a single day."
Fury chuckled as the doors shut. "Get used to it, Intern."