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“It really is a serious problem, Director,” Steve got out, doing his dead level best to strangle the laugh before it got out. The months since New York had smoothed the relationship between him and Tony, but there was no reason to put extra strain on it. Especially when the other man was in a particularly foul mood. Not that he could really blame Tony, all things considered.
The armor was not at its best when colored a particularly vile shade of lime green.
The fact that Tony himself matched the armor didn’t help.
“Explain to me how an engineer that could double as a leprechaun in a St. Patrick’s parade is a problem to me,” Fury snorted.
“It’s not the color, Director. It’s the vulnerability that he currently highlights,” Steve patiently reiterated. He was sure the Director understood the problem. Had probably anticipated the problem, knowing him. “It’s only an inconvenience- this time. But as long as Loki remains our only source for magical advice, we have a gaping hole in our defenses.
“Yeah, this time he was willing to give us some help in taking down our portals, in exchange for time off his sentence. But he didn’t tell us that his method would send a backlash of energy out of the portal. He didn’t warn us that use of the method might leave some of the creatures on our side. And he didn’t say anything about any -- colors.” Steve cleared his throat. That laugh had almost made it out. He quickly refocused.
“Thor tells me that the spell is both temporary and relatively harmless.” He ignored Tony’s outraged grumbles in the background and motioned to Thor.
“Indeed, Director. I am by no means an expert, or even truly learned in the ways of magic, but I know this trick of old. It was a favorite of my brother’s as a prank, once.” And Steve really couldn’t blame the guy for the clear look of nostalgia on his face, not after the amount of time he’d spent missing everything, good and bad, from his own time. “The color will wear off in but one or two turnings of the sun.”
“This time, the results were minor, and no more than a temporary inconvenience at worst. This time, sir,” Steve emphasized. “But what if his advice made the problem worse? Or fixed the problem right in front of us, but created a more serious problem elsewhere? Or didn’t affect our problem at all, only hurt us in some way? We have no way to predict any side effects, or even direct effects of his advice. We need another source for magical issue, if only to double check information with.”
“I can’t say I disagree with you, Captain,” Fury admitted, walking over to the table at which the team had gathered. “What makes you think we haven’t looked for one?”
“Sir?” Clint asked, looking up from examining the fletching on arrows he’d recovered from their battle with frog-men. Beside him, Natasha raised an eloquent eyebrow.
“Tracking down local sources on magic, magical beings, and magical abilities was a major priority after Thor left New Mexico,” Fury stated. “It was originally intended to be the second prong of our defensive initiative, combined with the weaponry developed from the Tesseract.
“However, that line of inquiry hit only dead ends, and with the Avengers Initiative put on hold, we were left with pouring more resources into the weapons as our only feasible option.”
Tony whirled from where he was pacing behind the table. “Are you kidding me? A two second unfiltered Google search of ‘wiccan covens’ gives you a list long enough wallpaper this damn helicarrier, and you’re telling us you can’t find any magic resources. Who or what was running this search? I thought you fired all the chimps last month, or was I wrong? And while I’m asking-”
Steve sighed as Tony let his temper, fertile imagination and easy way with words loose on SHIELD and magic in general, and Fury and Loki in specific. It had only been a matter of time, given the man’s anger, frustration, and humiliation. The tabloids had gotten at least one picture. But Fury didn’t look like he was taking it personally, so it would probably be best to just let him vent and wind down.
Until a sudden snort of laughter cut the designer off cold. Everyone’s eyes turned to Bruce, who had a hand clamped over his mouth and was looking down at the table. He snuck a glance up, and another snort escaped from behind his fingers.
“Dammit, Bruce, what is so funny?” Tony snapped. “I’d thought you, at least, would be on my side, here!”
“No, I’m sorry, its just-” the other scientist’s voice wavered for a moment, before he regained his control. “I just thought -- now I’m not the only one who’s angry and green.”
There was a beat of silence around the table. Clint was the first to crack, sinking down in his chair as the laughter bubbled out of him. That triggered Bruce’s own laughter, and Thor was quick to join in. Steve held out for only a few seconds more, before the mental image of the current green Tony and the Hulk smashing their way through a battle did him in, and he collapsed around his own guffaws of laughter.
When he managed to look up again, Natasha was sniggering quietly into Clint’s shoulder, while he gasped out his last few laughs, Thor and Bruce were only just recovering, and Fury was holding a hand over his mouth as he studied the ceiling intensely. Even Tony had broken into a reluctant smile. “Fine. Science-Bro solidarity. And I finally agree with Kermit- it’s not easy being green.”
With the moment and the tension broken, Steve could feel the team settling in for a real discussion. “In all seriousness, Director, why did the search for magical information fail?”
“Several reasons that we could see,” Fury sighed. “I had my best on it, so I think it best if he briefs you.” The Director motioned to one of the doors, then stepped back.
Phil walked carefully into the room, folder in hand, and Steve felt his smile stretch wider. Phil was still recovering from the stab wound Loki had given him, but was making progress. Regaining enough energy to chew out Fury on the helicarrier’s command deck, in full view of crew and Avengers, for that stunt over his ‘death’ and trading cards had done wonders for everyone’s moral.
Phil carefully lowered himself into a chair, then flipped open the folder. “We did find plenty of sources on local magical communities, Mr. Stark,” he admitted, “but even after we eliminated obvious fakes, charlatans, wanna-bes, and angsting teenagers, everyone we found fell into three distinct categories. First, those with only weak talent. These people are, in fact, some of our research sources -- they have a good base of general knowledge to start with. But they're not very willing to talk with us. We haven't pressed them hard, because in all honesty, they can’t help with our more serious problems. They don’t have the ability to do anything on this level.”
Tony had finally joined the others in a seat. “You mean, none of them felt like learning how to drive a race car when all they’d ever have access to was a bicycle.”
“Precisely,” Phil nodded, his small smile quirking his lips. Steve nodded slowly. It made sense so far. “Second group has power and knowledge, but is completely unreliable, for various reasons. Dr. Stephen Strange falls into this category. He’s powerful, knowledgeable, and good, but given that we never know what plane of existence he’s on at any given moment, relying on him for strategic or tactical data is not feasible. Other people in this category are certifiably loony, those who we can’t trust for various reasons, or those whose power is clear but whose competence is in serious doubt.”
“What is the last category?” Natasha asked, leaning forward. “We’ve ruled out incompetent, unable, and unavailable. What’s left?”
“Uncooperative,” Phil sighed. “The last group consists of people and organizations we’re certain have power, skill, and knowledge, but they’re so tightly inwardly focused that they sometimes make us look like a country club.”
Tony’s green eyebrows flew up towards his green hairline. “That’s saying a lot, Super Secret Spy Guy. You sure about that?”
Phil nodded. “I’ve got a list of a dozen or more organization names. The White Council, the Fellowship of St. Giles -- though that one’s off the grid recently -- various courts and circles and covens. All names whispered by our low level informants. All names completely unwilling to talk with us in anything but threats or obvious lies and traps. And because they won’t talk with us, we don’t have any information on the individual players. No way to know who to approach, who might have axes to grind, or who’s working a covert agenda. It’s the same situation as Loki. We have no way to double check information or tell who’s attempting to feed us lies. Without that,” Phil shrugged slightly, careful not to pull at new scar tissue, “there’s no way to get an in with anyone, and certianly no way we'd trust them with sensitive information about current crisis and missions.”
Natasha looked intrigued. “We’ve tried the usual covert methods, surveillance, and approaches?”
Phil nodded. “Problem is, we’re back at square one. We don’t know magic. Half the time, our agents managed to set off various types of magical alarms, or said the wrong thing to leading comments, or were made, because they didn’t fit in. Other half? Our best guess is that the magic scrambled the machines, because we still didn’t get anything.”
Tony smiled. “I’d offer to hack their computers, Agent, but you’d just tell me that that’s illegal.”
Phil’s smile grew. “I’d actually be interested in seeing you try, Mr. Stark, for the simple reason that they don’t have computers.”
Steve nearly started laughing again at the shocked look on Tony’s face. “No- seriously? No computers?” the engineer sputtered.
Phil nodded. “Piece of information from our low-level informants that our own experiments proved: serious human magic and serious human tech do not get along. Short-circuits, component failure, wiring malfunction -- it’s like Murphy’s law got enforcers from the local mob to back it up. The big leaguers can’t use high-tech, so they don’t. There’s nothing for you to hack.”
“And that leaves us in a classic catch 22, gentlemen,” Fury announced, re-entering the conversation. “In order to learn more about magic, we need to talk to these people. In order to talk to them, we need to learn more about magic.”
There was a slow beat as everyone absorbed the problem.
“I know little of this realm,” Thor said slowly. “And it has been long since my father, Odin, left Asgard and our own lands on journeys of exploration. But he has great knowledge and wisdom, and friends who yet maintain close ties to this plane. He might not know the name of one who will give us trustworthy guidance in this matter, but I believe that he might know who to ask for that name.”
Fury glanced around the table. “Captain Rodgers, I agree with your assessment of our strategic weakness in this area. Unless your team has any other suggestions, I’m willing to approve this line of investigation. Do you have any objections?”
Steve cast a glance of his own across his team, but couldn’t see anything else anyone wanted to add. “We’ll toss it around, Director, but I think Thor should ask his father as soon as possible. Having more than one arrow to our bow-” he tossed a quick grin over at Clint, who flashed him a thumbs up- “is always the best way.”
“Very well,” announced Fury, already striding towards the door. “Make it happen.”
“I shall leave for Asgard at once,” declared Thor.