Phil Coulson's chest hitched as he leaned forward in his desk to peruse the files on his screen. There was still some pain, and that weird itching that went all the way through; Loki's impalement had left him with layer on layer of dissolving stitches. He flicked a finger across the files, selected one, and opened it, re-examining his assignment dossier.

He had been on desk work ever since he had been allowed back in a month ago, and it was driving him a little bit batty. Nerf sniper wars with Barton sometimes alleviated the boredom--though he wished the archer would stop targeting his bald spot--but in the end, he was a field man and felt caged. He had been reassigned to the Times Square facility while the Helicarrier was being repaired, and he was really getting tired of all those cubicles and testing chambers.

The new assignment was a change--look after Captain America's unexpected companion in time travel. It was closer to his usual job as a superhero handler, but...she was also considerably younger than he was used to dealing with. The idea had him pushing down a mild surge of panic as he waited for her to be brought by. He was fine with people, but superhumanly gifted kids?