Marvel One Shots

"I used to box for Oxford." "Well, I used to kill for the KGB."

Elliot Jameson was a good man, really. He took care of his aging mother. He payed his taxes with a minimum amount of grumbling. He even volunteered at the animal shelter on occasion. So just what had he done to deserve this?

---One hour earlier---

A tall, well built man flashed his ID badge to a man guarding the doors to a large bunker. The badge read 'Inspector Elliot Jameson' along with 'visitor, access limited'. He was part of a government sanctioned check on yet another agency that seemed to believe they were above the law. The strategic homeland intervention and enforcement logistics division, or as they liked to be called, S.H.I.E.L.D.

After the chaos that was the Battle of New York, many of the world's governments had gotten together and decided that something must be done about the group that had seemed to run it. Now, S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't the type to be bullied into something they didn't want to do by a bunch of old men in suits. However, their PR team decided that it would be for S.H.I.E.L.D's best interests to comply to a safety inspection. They could use a bit of good press.

So that was how Mr. Elliot Jameson came to this S.H.I.E.L.D bunker in the middle of nowhere. A middle-aged man greeted him at the entrance, sticking out his hand with a genial grin on his face. "Welcome, Inspector Jameson. I'm Agent Phillip Coulson. I trust you will find everything in order here, even if you think our methods are a bit...unorthodox."

The two men shook hands before heading off on a very well-rounded tour. Inspector Jameson took so many notes that Coulson was surprised that his pen didn't run dry. They walked through the offices, the quintet hangers, the psych ward, the barracks, the infirmary, and even the technology wing. Finally, they walked through the gym.

Few people were in it. Trainees had a separate gym, and almost everyone else was occupied with their day jobs. Three men were working out, and a woman with a clipboard was talking to one of them. Weights clanged down noisily as the tallest man looked over at Coulson. "Who is this?" he asked with a thick accent.

Coulson smiled slightly. "This is Inspector Jameson from the U.N. He's here on safety inspection duty. I'm taking him on the tour."

The man turned around and shrugged, hoisting the weights above his head again. Inspector Jameson turned to Coulson, a curious look on his face. "So this is where all of your employees train?"

Coulson nodded. "Everyone except for the trainees. They have their own gym in the lower level. You'll find that everyone employed at S.H.I.E.L.D is quite adept with hand-to-hand combat."

A slight smirk pulled at Elliot's lips. "-Everyone-, you say?"

Agent Coulson's brow furrowed. "Yes. Anyone in this room could fight and beat you if they so wished to. Would you care for a demonstration? Or perhaps you would like to go into the ring yourself?"

Elliot nodded, looking at the three men in front of him. The first, the one with an accent, was the tallest and heaviest built, standing about 6'5". He had intense Norwegian features, and distinctly sharp cheekbones and deepest eyes. Elliot passed over him. He knew he wouldn't be able to beat him.

The second man was the shortest, but still stood at 6'0" tall. He carried himself well, and looked impressive in a way that reminded Elliot of him grandfather when he was in the World Wars. He had a broad forehead, large blue eyes, and a strong jaw. That coupled with thick blond hair made him look like an American poster boy. He was the shortest, but he looked capable. Elliot passed him over also.

The third man was about 6'3", leanly built. He had roughly handsome features, and unlike the other two, looked like he had sustained damage in the wars he had fought. He had narrow eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and stubble covered his cheeks. He had seen a lot, and fought a lot. Elliot passed him up too.

Fighting Agent Coulson was out of the picture. He sensed that Agent Coulson was a lot harder to beat than he looked. So Elliot's eyes slid to the last remaining person in the room: the woman with the clipboard.

She was short, maybe 5'3". Wide blue green eyes, a delicate chin, and full lips coupled with auburn hair gave her a unique but beautiful look. She looked innocent for all she was worth. Elliot nodded at her. "How about the lady with the clipboard? I'll fight her, if she's up to it."

A polite smile crossed the girl's lips. "Of course, Inspector Jameson. How long will the round be? Five minutes?"

Elliot contemplated for a second while the girl slipped off her heels. "Three minutes. Don't want to tire you out too much." One of the American's covered their mouth with their hand like he had said something funny before putting on their poker face. The girl stepped inside the ring, stripping off her suit jacket. "Whenever you are ready, Inspector."

Inspector Jameson climbed into the ring, shrugging off his suit jacket as his went. "Just warning you, darling, I used to box for Oxford."
The red headed girl simply shrugged. "Well," she said thoughtfully, "I used to kill for the KGB."

The next three minutes brought Inspector Elliot Jameson into a world of pain. Everything was a whirlwind was elbows, knees, and fists. By the end of it, he could have sworn that at least three ribs were broken. At last he managed to pull himself off of the floor. Looking through swollen eyes, he squinted at the girl.

"Where do they recruit people like you?"

Agent Coulson put a hand on Elliot's shoulders, guiding him out of the ring "Oh, we get them all over. It's just your luck that you came here when the Avengers were in town. You almost fought an Asgardian."

Elliot looked around dumbfounded. The pieces were falling into place. The tallest one was Thor, Asgardian prince. The poster boy literally was one, in the 1940s at least, as the costumed hero Captain America. The lean one was the Olympic archer known only as Hawkeye. And the girl? Agent Coulson's voice broke into his chain of thought.

"Good job, Agent Romanoff."

"It was a pleasure, sir."

The girl saluted jauntily, if not sarcastically, and walked smoothly out of the gym.