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It was inevitable. Phil knew this, and yet she was still mad when it happened.
“You’re supposed to have another month,” she said, sitting up in bed to watch Clint pull on clothing.
He’d gotten the call a few minutes before, and had been told to hurry.
“I know,” Clint said, pulling on a shirt.
“That has puke on the back,” Phil said.
Clint grimaced and changed shirts.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Phil said. “After the Tripoli thing.”
“You planned Tripoli,” Clint said, grabbing his boots. “So it was kind of expected. But it's true, the boss man does like to ruin our fun.”
“Oh yes,” Phil said. “Barf and diapers galore.”
Clint grinned. “You make parenthood sound so glamorous.”
“Well, it is,” Phil said. She held her arms open to encompass the room littered with two piles of laundry (clean and not-quite-sure) they were supposed to do later that week, a bassinet (currently empty because they were trying to get the baby started on sleeping in her room) and the night stands with the previous mornings empty coffee mugs. The closet doors were mostly closed, but from the ten inch gap in the doorway the disarray of that week’s shoes could be seen. “Don’t you just feel the opulence?”
Clint chuckled and crawled across the bed to kiss Phil good bye. She smiled into the kiss and said as he pulled back, “Love you.”
Clint blinked.
Phil blinked back at him.
Than, after a few moments of silence, Clint smiled awkwardly and said, “I’ll be back in a few days.” He patted her belly. “Be good you two.”
Phil fought the urge to punch him. Instead, she simply replied, tone same as before, “Be careful.”
Clint nodded and leaned in for one last quick kiss before climbing off the bed and walking out of the room. She could hear him pausing in the baby’s room to whisper a goodbye before the front door shut with a click.
Phil waited a good thirty seconds before collapsing back on the bed with a groan.
Sharon learned early on in her time at Shield that if you wanted to get ahead, you got your ass to work early.
Which is why she found herself in the cubicles for level one and two agents before six am, a good two hours before a majority of them would show for daily work. There weren’t a lot people there at that time of day. In fact, there was usually nobody there at that time of day. Which is why she usually just left the lights off and worked off the small light on her desk.
She was going over a file on an op that one of the level five handlers was requesting intel for when she turned in her seat and knocked over her thermos. Grumbling at her clumsiness, she got out of her seat and crawled under her desk to find it.
It had fallen back behind the cabinet, and she had just closed her fingers on it when she heard a couple of voices going through the cubicles.
“It is five-thirty in the fucking morning Phil,” a voice chided. “Why the fuck am I here?””
“Uh, you work here?” another voice, Sharon was betting on it being Phil Coulson, replied.
“Oh, I’m aware of that,” the first voice said. “But my day usually starts at seven, right now it is five-thirty. Most days, I am not even awake by now. Why did you call me?”
“You call yourself a spy,” Phil replied. Sharon heard rustling of papers and the sound of tablets being stacked.
“No, I call myself someone who is, on occasion, allowed to delegate, which than allows me to come in at a semi decent work time. What the fuck are you looking for?”
A huff. “Richardson was reviewing and collating the data on Bangladesh for me yesterday. Figured I’d look at it since I’ve got an early start.”
“Uh-huh,” the first voice said. Sharon finally recognized it as Maria Hill. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Phil said. A noise of triumph. “Found it.”
“I see that.” Maria said. Sharon heard some noise, more papers being moved probably. Than, “He get called out finally?”
“You’re his boss, same as me, you should know.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have any work with him lined up.”
A sigh. “He got the call a little after one. Something for Callahan.”
“And?”
“And nothing. He got a call, he went to work. It’s his job. Same as mine,” Phil replied bluntly.
“But?” Maria asked.
“But nothing,” Phil replied.
“It is five-thirty in the morning and you’re going over details for ops you don’t have to execute for at least another month when you could be at home with your baby and enjoying your last month of desk work.”
“Yeah, I’m going to be on that a bit longer than expected,” Phil replied.
“How so?”
There was a pause, than, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Shhh! Keep it down!”
“Bullshit I’m keeping it down. There’s no one in here. You’re fucking pregnant again?! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Sharon’s eyes grew wide. That was interesting.
A loud sigh. “We found out three weeks ago. And you only got back from Taipei two days ago, calm down."
“How?”
Some rustling of fabric, Sharon was going to guess there was a shrug. “Well, when two people are attracted to each other-”
“Oh, fuck you, Phil. I know you’re attracted to him. You two have had sex all over your office.”
Sharon’s eyes grew wider. That at least answered the question on if he was a Shield agent.
“How did you find out?”
“Follow up appointment. Doc was getting ready to putt that thing in my arm. Apparently they run blood tests before they give you birth control to make sure you’re not pregnant.”
“Lovely,” Maria replied. A pause. “What’d he say about it?”
Sharon heard a creak, someone was probably leaning against a desk. “Not much. Asked what I wanted. Was concerned about us having another so soon. I said I was game if he was.”
“How romantic,” Maria replied.
A laugh. “Oh yes, we have romance in droves,” Phil said sarcastically.
Maria hummed. “And now we come to the issue.”
“I have never been one to care about romance,” Phil replied. “That is not my issue.”
“Bull shit. Everyone cares in some weird way. Remember that coffee thing you told me about? That’s romantic as hell.”
“It’s coffee.”
“It’s sweet. Shows he pays attention.”
“Maybe.
“No, no ‘maybe’ about it. I can give you other examples, but I haven’t had enough coffee this morning. Therefore, I will ask you again. What is wrong? You have basically said it’s not him getting called out earlier than planned, and it’s not a romance issue. So what’s making you all pissy?”
There was silence for a few minutes, then, “I told him I loved him.”
Silence.
“And that,” Phil said, “was his exact reaction.”
“I’m kind of confused. You mean you hadn’t said it before?”
“No,” Phil said softly.
“But…you’ve been together for so long now.”
“Not really,” Phil said. “At first we weren’t trying too hard at what we were doing, and than he was gone and I was pregnant, and then he was back and we decided to be a thing. Really, since we had that conversation, it’s only been about five months.”
Maria sighed. “You two are so confusing.”
A chuckle. “What is life without a little fun?”
“So, you said you loved him and he didn’t say anything?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Maria made a noise. “Do I need to get my switchblade?”
“Why would you need one?” Phil asked in confusion.
“No reason,” Maria said innocently.
Phil snorted and Maria chuckled. “Look, there’s always someone who says it first, and someone who isn’t ready to. Just talk to him about it when you get back and see what he says. You’re going to need to be able to talk these things out better if you’re having another spawn in a few months. And part of that means no more just coming to work to ignore the fact you’re mad at him. For god’s sake, the daycare is hardly even open right now. Those ladies must be hating you.”
“They don’t. I said I’d get them Natasha’s vodka hook up and they’re happy. And you’re right,” Phil said, “About the other stuff. And I’m not mad, exactly. Just…”
“Disappointed?” Maria asked.
“Yeah,” Phil replied.
“It’ll work out,” Maria said. “I know it will.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Phil asked.
“Then I’ll get my switchblade.”
Phil laughed. “You’re horrible.”
“Eh, I consider myself to just be a good fried. Now, on to this baby stuff. I’m assuming the boss man knows?”
“Told him when I found out. Same as last time, he said it’d work out. That he’d try not to approve him for anything too close to the birth. Wants me to do more remote handling this time though. Seems that the newer recruits have heard about how things were when I was in charge, and are working double time to make sure they don’t have to go through what Tomlinson’s group did.”
“Ah Tomlinson. The little shit. Sitwell still keeping an eye on him?”
“Yeah. He seems to be working better under him right now.”
“Well, they’re both assholes so, whatever works I guess.”
Sharon heard the desk creak again and more papers rustling. “Now what are you doing?” Maria asked.
“Richardson’s work is horrible. I’m giving this to Carter instead and he can start on the review for Manitoba.”
“But that’s my op!” Maria said,
“Exactly,” Phil said. “He’s scared of you more than he is me. Feel free to taze him.”
Sharon heard some steps, and saw a pair of feet in sensible loafers standing in her empty work space. “You’re going to get us in trouble with talk like that,” Maria said, “Can’t believe you didn’t get reprimanded after Tripoli.”
“You mean after I got called in off my leave early and came in to work only to have an agent insult me?" Coulson's voice drifted as she made her way through the cubicles. "Good luck making that stick."
Above Sharon’s head, she heard the sound of papers and tablets being put on her desk. There was a clatter and Sharon saw her thermos lid roll onto the floor in front of her desk.
Shit, she thought.
The feet in front of her flexed, and she saw black clad knees come into view. A small hand reached for the lid and Phil Coulson turned to use the desk for leverage and stopped slightly when she saw Sharon sitting there under the desk, a sheepish look now on her face, thermos in hand.
Phil frowned.
Sharon smiled weakly and gave a little wave. Phil merely took a deep breath and pushed herself up, placing the lid on Sharon’s desk with a thunk.
“C’mon,” Phil said. “I need some coffee.”
“Uh, aren’t you not supposed to?”
“Screw that,” Phil said. “It’s almost six. I want caffeine. I’ve barely started puking yet.”
“You know, these conversations of ours further my decision on never having children.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Sharon listened to the women walk away, and when she no longer heard the sound of their voices, she crawled out from under her desk and sat in her chair with sigh. She let herself think over the information she’d just overheard and couldn’t decide whether she was surprised or not about Coulson’s babies father being Shield. She probably wasn’t. And it looked like he was an active field agent, since he’d gotten a call out.
If she wanted to, she could probably ask around and try to find out who was out on ops, especially Callahan’s. Problem was that there were anywhere up to a dozen missions a day that deployed, and the mission might not even be being run by him. There were too many possibilities there.
Therefore, she moved on to thinking about the next bit of tasty dirt.
Coulson was pregnant again. Now that was interesting. And, it was the same father as before. Based on what she’d heard, it wasn’t Fury. So, she would probably have to change her bet this time.
She turned in her seat and saw the large pile of work on her desk that Coulson had left. A part of her felt a little sad at seeing it, but then remembered her Aunt Peggy once telling her about the time she’d piled a load of work on a new agent to see how he responded to it.
He was now the director of Shield.
Sharon took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders back tightly, and after feeling a slight pop, got started on her work.
It was a few hours later when Phil heard a knock at her door.
“Come in,” she called out.
The door opened and Phil saw Sharon Carters blonde head peek around the wood. “Hi,” she said. “I was hoping to o over the Bangladesh file with you?”
Phil gestured for her to have a seat and went back to reviewing the page in front of her. Once Sharon was settled, she closed her file with a snap and held out a hand.
Sharon leaned forward in her seat and handed a filed folder to Phil. “I did a preliminary review of the intel. Based on what’s there, I‘m thinking only a small team will be needed, maybe four. Any more than that and it’ll be too conspicuous.”
“How so?” Phil asked, flipping through several pages of detailed notes.
“Well,” Sharon began. “We’re going in during the end of tourist season, so there’s not as many big groups of travelers. Based on the parameters, we’ll want at least two active combat agents, one of whom is a sniper. You’re history shows you prefer Barton and Romanoff for that. Maybe Melinda May. While during active tourist season, it’s perfectly fine to have a group of upwards a dozen people, since it’s the slower end, smaller groups are the norm.” She shrugged, “It’s cheaper that way. Big groups are normal during peak because they like to get together for group rates since that’s the more expensive time.”
Phil nodded. “You said Four agents?” she asked.
“Uh, yes,” Sharon said. “You’ll need the two mentioned before, one will of course be a handler, and a fourth to help as backup in case an evac is needed. “
Phil made a noise of agreement and continued to go through the file. As she read, Sharon’s gaze fidgeted around the office, focus not staying in place too long.
“He lives with me now,” Phil said still mostly focused on the file, “so we don’t use the office as much as Maria may have implied in that conversation you overheard.”
Sharon blushed at Phil’s words, “I wasn’t-“
“Yes you were,” Phil sad. “It’s okay.”
Sharon swallowed. “I haven’t said anything,” she said in a rush. “I swear.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
Sharon looked embarrassed and Phil still didn’t look up from the file when she said. “You’ve been at Shield over a year now, Agent Carter. And in that time Maria and I have done you the courtesy of not saying anything about who you are in front of your peers, because we know it’s your goal to move forward on your own merit. I feel it’s almost needless to say that I would appreciate you providing the same courtesy on the information you overheard today."
Sharon nodded, but Phil was still reading the file, all business. “Yes, ma’am,” she replied. “And, uh, congratulations. On the baby, I mean."
“Thank you,” Phil said. “Now what do you recommend in regards to weapons usage on this op?”
Sharon took a deep breath, and laid out her thoughts on what they could bring for such a small team.
It was four days later when Phil was serving herself a dinner of soup and toast (damn morning sickness). The baby was settled on her hip as she worked, gnawing on a silicone ring, smiling as Phil hummed along to something on the radio. In the background, the washing machine hummed as it ran through a cycle. She was making her way to the couch when a key inserted into the lock and the door opened.
“Hey,” Phil said, continuing towards the couch.
Clint smiled at her. “Hey.”
She put her soup down. “There’s more food if you want some,” she began, and she placed the baby on the floor in her pile of boppy pillows and toys. She stood and turned to talk to Clint. “I haven’t felt like much more than soup so-”
Phil stopped. Clint was standing there in front of her, having followed her into the living room. “Um, hi?” Phil said. Clint was staring at her, a look she wasn’t familiar with on his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Clint didn’t answer, and instead reached forward and held her face in his calloused hands as he leaned forward and kissed her deeply.
Phil sighed into the kiss, and reached her hands up to hold onto his wrists as he kissed her, thumbs circling his pulse point. After a while, Clint broke the kiss but stayed close, his forehead resting against hers. Phil couldn’t help but breathe in his scent of soap and whatever oil he used on his bow. She let it wash over her, and felt herself relax as it settled under her skin.
“I love you,” Clint said after a few moments of silence. “I should have said it before.”
Phil smiled. “I love you, too.”