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"You need a new handler," Fury told them, when they’d regrouped and recovered from the battle.

"Don’t want one," Tony said.

There was a moment of silence. Fury looked at Cap.

"I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Stark speaks for me," he said, crossing his arms.

"Someone has to be responsible for you until Coulson's back on his feet," Fury replied. "I’m not talking about braiding your hair or coddling your delicate diva superhero feelings. Someone has to be your SHIELD point of contact, manage your PR and requisitions, and liaise with the city regarding the billions of dollars in damage you just did."

"JARVIS can do that," Tony said.

"You need a public face."

Tony pointed to his face. "Already public."

"You really want to do all the meet and greets? You want to be the one people call when they need stock photos for news articles? You want to — "

"Okay," Clint said quietly. Everyone looked at him. "We get it. So find us someone and tell him to call us if the world’s ending."

"Already found. He will be contacting you as and when necessary, and the six of you are going to take it and like it," Fury replied. "Stark, one more word out of you and I will rip your goatee off, my hand to god."

Tony, who had been opening his mouth, involuntarily raised a hand to cover his chin. The goatee took a lot of work.

"We’ve imported someone from outside the organization to cover things in the short term. If he works out, we’ll discuss long term. He has extensive logistical experience and you will obey him," Fury continued. He gestured to one of the uniformed SHIELD agents standing in the background, and she opened a door and put her head in. "Gentlemen, lady, Stark — "

"Oh nice!"

" — meet Agent Ianto Jones, formerly of Torchwood."

The kid was young, baby-faced and pale, wearing the requisite bland suit and tie. He gave them a brief, perfunctory smile.

"Good morning," he said. "A pleasure to meet you all."

"Okay, he’s twelve years old and Welsh," Tony said.

"And yet I’m in charge of you," Ianto Jones replied pleasantly. "Sit down, Mr. Stark, before I declassify file A12."

Tony sat abruptly.

"What’s file A12?" Steve asked.

"Shut up and sit down," Tony hissed. "How did you even find that?"

"I was an archivist in a former life. I have ways. Captain Rogers, I was asked to give you Captain Harkness’s regards."

Steve sat down so quickly the chair crunched.

"Now then, Director Fury, agents," Jones said. "If you’ll clear the room — "

"Excuse me?" Fury asked.

"I need to debrief my team, sir. Please clear the room. I am also aware of file 327-apple-AR," he added. Fury glared, but he pointed at Stark, pointed at his eye, and then left the room as well.

"In my previous position," Jones said, "I was logistical support for a team of four people including a time-traveling sexual harassment suit waiting to happen, an extremely angry man with medical training, a technological savant, and a very mouthy police officer. Our office was located on a rift in space and time. Aliens were, in fact, our specialty. So the six of you, I have to say, should not be that difficult. Shall we begin with after action reports?"