There's something profoundly awkward about having Nick Fury in your living room.
For starters, the man's presence screams, I don't want to be here any more than you want me here. Then there's his trench coat, which really feels like overkill indoors. What's next? Sunglasses at night?
He and Maria Hill had waltzed into Emma's mansion—well, our mansion now, and immediately made themselves at home.
Fury loomed over me with his one good eye locked on, like he was ready to recruit me into a top-secret spy agency (which, spoiler alert, he was).
His pretty assistant Maria Hill, on the other hand, looked like she had already checked out mentally and was halfway to bed in her mind.
"So," Fury said, voice rougher than gravel in a blender, "let's cut to the chase. David, you've got powers. The world's seen what you can do. Flying to the sun, surviving in space, all that shit. You've got potential. We want you on our team."
Ah, there it was. The inevitable join us, or else pitch. I'd been waiting for this. I leaned back on the couch, trying to look casual despite the fact I was very much fighting the urge to laugh.
"Nick," I said, clasping my hands like I was about to negotiate a used car deal, "I get it. You're building a super cool team. A bunch of heroes saving the world, yada yada. Love the concept. But, uh, I'm gonna have to pass."
Fury's eyebrow—or what was left of it—ticked upward. "Pass?"
"Yeah, hard pass," I said. "It's just not my thing. I'm more of a stay-at-home kind of guy. Maybe a 'Netflix and chill with my fiancée' kind of vibe. Definitely not 'save the world and get smashed into a building by Hulk' material."
Hill let out the tiniest of snorts, and I could've sworn Fury's glare intensified enough to peel paint.
"This isn't a joke, David," Fury said, leaning forward like he was about to sell me a timeshare.
"Oh, I know," I replied, nodding sagely. "That's why I'm saying no. I mean, have you seen how your team works?
Stark's probably drunk half the time, Thor's off in space doing god knows what, and Banner... well, do you really want me sharing a workplace with a guy whose hobbies include 'accidental property destruction'?"
I sipped my coffee. "Earth has plenty of people on its side. Tony Stark, Thor, that guy with the arrows—what's his name?"
"Hawkeye," Hill said dryly.
She cleared her throat, clearly trying to keep it together. Fury, on the other hand, looked like he was reconsidering all his life choices.
"Right. Him. See? You're covered."
Fury's one good eye narrowed at me. "You think this is a joke?"
"No," I said, setting my cup down. "I think it's your job, not mine. I mean, you're Nick Fury. Big boss. Secret agents. Eye patch. You've got this whole thing under control, right?"
Fury leaned forward, the air around him practically crackling with intensity. "You don't understand the stakes, David. There are alien threats out there. Forces beyond your comprehension.
You think Loki was bad? You think This was a fluke? Earth is on their radar now, and we're in serious danger. Without people like you, we don't stand a chance."
I raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. "Nick, Nick, Nick… You think that's news to me?" Then I pulled a classic one-liner: " You know nothing, Fury."
"What are you talking about?" Fury asked, his tone laced with suspicion.
I leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "Nick, you're acting like you're the only one with the scoop. But let me guess. The Kree and the Skrulls, right? That little history lesson from your Captain Marvel days?"
Fury's cool demeanor cracked for the briefest moment. His lips tightened, and Hill shot him a questioning glance. "How do you know about that?" he asked, voice low and cautious.
I smirked, taking my time to answer. "Let's just say I've got sources. So, you've been harboring Skrull refugees while trying to keep the Kree off Earth's doorstep. Admirable, but not exactly groundbreaking."
I leaned forward, mirroring his intense posture. "You think you're the only one who knows about alien threats? Oh, Nick, buckle up, because Earth isn't just on the radar—it's basically the idiot kid in the galaxy's group chat that everyone's talking about."
Fury's expression didn't falter, but Hill blinked, her usual calm demeanor shifting ever so slightly. Emma, who was perched on the armrest of the couch, sipped her tea and grinned, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama.
I laughed, a sharp sound that echoed in the room. "Nick, you're barely scratching the surface. Let me break it down for you. The Kree? Sure, they're powerful. Militaristic, oppressive, and technologically advanced. But they're just one empire in a very crowded galaxy.
You've got the Shi'ar Empire, who make the Kree look like amateurs in terms of bureaucracy and firepower. If the Shi'ar decide Earth is infringing on their domain, they won't even send a warning. They'll just unleash their Death Commandos."
Fury's face didn't move, but Hill shifted uncomfortably. "Death Commandos?" she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.
"Oh, yeah," I said casually. "They're as charming as they sound. Not to mention they have some powerful dudes who can destroy this solar system.
And then there are the Skrulls. Don't get too comfortable thinking they're all peaceful refugees. Sure, you've got a friendly batch here now, but the Skrulls as a species?
They're shapeshifting masters of infiltration. If a faction decides Earth's ripe for the taking, you'll wake up one day and find out half your staff are Skrulls. Maybe even you, Nick."
Fury's eye narrowed, his composure slipping. "You're joking."
"Am I?" I smirked smugly.
"Then there are the cosmic wildcards," I continued, warming up now. "Entities like Galactus. Ever heard of him? Big guy, eats planets like you'd snack on popcorn.
If he decides Earth looks tasty, your helicarrier isn't going to cut it. He's not a villain, Nick—he's a force of nature. You don't fight Galactus; you survive him, if you're lucky."
Hill glanced at Fury, her expression a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
I added casually, " Oh by the way, there's also the phoenix force , which might be coming to earth soon . You got a 50% chance of her destroying the earth, give or take."
Emma, perched on the couch, took a sip of her tea, thoroughly amused. "This is better than cable," she said with a grin.
Hill's hands tightened on her tablet as if she were mentally cataloging every name I'd dropped. Fury, however, leaned forward again. "And what do you suggest we do about all this, if you're so knowledgeable?"
I chuckled, leaning forward to match his posture. "Oh, I'm not done yet. Let's talk about Dormammu—an extra-dimensional entity who'd turn this planet into a flaming hellscape for kicks. He's just waiting for some idiot sorcerer to botch a spell.
Or the Celestials—giant cosmic beings who've been around since the dawn of time. They don't care about nations or borders; they care about whether Earth still fits their cosmic vision board. If it doesn't, they'll erase it. They are basically playing a bad game of sims with planets."
"And let's not forget the real fun stuff," I added, grinning. "Dimensional incursions, ancient cosmic beings sealed away who might decide to wake up tomorrow, and oh, here's a kicker, your own planet isn't exactly innocent.
Earth's been dabbling in tech and weapons it shouldn't have. You think the rest of the galaxy hasn't noticed? You've got bigger problems than me joining your little club."
Fury's jaw tightened, but I wasn't done. "And let's not even get started on people's own idiocy.
Secret labs tinkering with interdimensional portals, rogue scientists playing with cosmic energy, and weapons left behind by ancient civilizations that your government keeps poking with sticks.
Earth isn't just on the radar—it's the galaxy's biggest liability."
Hill looked visibly unsettled now, her usual stoic expression faltering. Fury, however, stayed silent, clearly trying to process the torrent of information.
Fury crossed his arms, but I could see the cracks in his usual unflappable demeanor. "And you know all this because…?"
I shrugged. "Let's just say flying through space and being kinda OP gives you a new perspective. I've seen things, Nick. Things your SHIELD database doesn't even have a folder for. Trust me when I say Earth is barely a footnote in the cosmic scheme of things."
For a moment, the room was silent. Fury looked like he was reevaluating his entire life. Hill looked like she was reevaluating hers.
"So," I said, breaking the tension, "still think I should join the Avengers? Because honestly, I've got better things to do. Like not getting involved in cosmic turf wars or accidentally triggering an intergalactic incident."
Fury's jaw tightened. "Motherfucker,You're saying you're too good for this shit?"
"No," I said, grinning. "I'm saying I like my life the way it is—relatively peaceful and alien-free. Besides, you've got Thor for the space stuff. Let him handle it. He's already got a hammer and abs. I've got Netflix and a beautiful fiancée. Priorities, Nick."
"David," he said, his voice dropping lower than my high school GPA, "this isn't just about you. It's about protecting the world. You've got powers. You've got responsibility."
"Oh, the Spider-Man speech!" I said, clapping my hands . "I love this part. But here's the thing, Nick—I'm not Spider-Man. I don't have webs. I don't fight in pajamas.
I'm just a guy who survived a really bad day and now has powers. You want me to trade that for mandatory hero meetings and being yelled at by Tony Stark? No thanks."
Fury's jaw tightened like he was trying not to explode. Hill, meanwhile, looked like she was rooting for me.
"Let me lay it out for you," Fury said, now sounding like a dad trying to convince his kid to clean their room. "You'll have access to state-of-the-art tech. The leadership of the Avengers. Resources. A paycheck that—"
"A paycheck?" I cut in, holding up a hand. "Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me Stark gets paid extra to be Iron Man? That's insane. And what about Hulk? Do you pay him in protein shakes or, like, yoga classes?"
Hill's lips twitched dangerously close to a smile, but Fury looked like he was two seconds away from hurling his trench coat at me.
"This isn't about money," Fury growled.
"Good, because I don't need it," I said, smirking. "Emma here owns more real estate than Monopoly. I'm living the dream."
Emma gave me a look that said, Stop talking, but also, I'm impressed.
"You're really turning this down?" Fury asked, his tone now hovering somewhere between disbelief and despair .
"Absolutely," I said, grinning. "And it's nothing personal, Nick. It's just that I've seen the movies. First, I join the team. Then, someone betrays someone. Next thing you know, we're all fighting over something dumb like hero guidelines or pizza toppings. I'm not about that life."
Fury crossed his arms, his tone sharper now. "You're saying you'd rather sit back and do nothing while Earth faces all this?"
"Not nothing," I corrected, holding up a finger. "But I'm not interested in being another cog in your machine. You've got Thor for the cosmic threats. Captain Marvel, too. Let them handle it—they're practically made for it. Me? I've got Netflix and a wedding to plan. Again, Priorities, Nick."
Emma raised her tea in a mock toast. "To David's impeccable priorities," she said, smirking.
Fury stood abruptly, his coat swishing as he rose. "You're making a mistake," he said curtly.
"Maybe," I said, my tone light. "But it's my mistake to make. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got cake flavors to finalize. Unless you want to weigh in?"
Fury stared at me like he couldn't decide whether to argue or call in an airstrike. He finally turned to Hill. "You got anything to add?"
Hill shrugged. "Honestly Boss, he's got a point. "
For a second, I thought Fury might actually combust. Instead, he threw his hands up and headed for the door, muttering something about "finding someone who isn't a pain in the ass."
As the door slammed shut, Emma finally let out the laugh she'd been holding back.
"You really know how to make friends," she said, wiping a tear from her eye.
"Hey, I'm charming," I said, lounging back with a grin. "Besides, I'd rather face an angry Nick Fury than Hulk on a bad day."
Emma shook her head, still laughing. "Remind me never to underestimate you."
"Wise choice," I replied, grinning. "Now, let's talk centerpieces. That's the kind of crisis I can get behind."