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Coulson calls him at 5:45 in the morning on his day off. He’d be annoyed but Coulson would never call him in on his day off unless it was necessary.
“Be at headquarters at 0630” Coulson says, his tone strained, before hanging up abruptly. Clint lies back on his bed for a minute contemplating what could make Coulson sound like that before getting up to pack. His conclusion, nothing good.
…...
He walks into headquarters where Coulson is waiting for him. “No one’s dead right?” Clint asks nervously.
“No, no one’s dead. Natasha’s currently indisposed but she’ll be fine, she had a mission though. Which she was supposed to start today.” Clint let himself relax slightly at that. Natasha was his best friend and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he worried about her. Although Nat would probably punch him if he ever told her that; even though he knew that she worried about him as well.
“So, I’m the replacement” Clint says. “Wait. Which mission is this? Please tell me it’s not the honeypot one.”
“Yes. I’ve already set everything up, but you need supposed to be at Stark Tower in an hour.”
“But Coulson I’m not even his type” Clint whines. Clint’s aware that his dislike of this sort of mission was weird for a spy and he was fine with most undercover operations. But just lying about liking someone romantically had always seemed intrinsically wrong to him. Not that he was a zealot or anything about the sanctity of soulmate bonds, if anything, he was actually the opposite. His parents had been soulmates and well that just proved to him that just because people were soulmates it didn’t necessarily mean they were good for one another. Coulson had always supported him in this and had never made him do one after he had admitted how uncomfortable he found them. He had even reprimanded other handlers who had tried to pressure Clint into doing them. Which meant of course that this mission was important enough that Coulson felt that this was necessary.
“Actually, you are his type. He’s just more discreet about those liaisons.” That was interesting, he thought. He wondered why someone like Tony Stark would feel the need to hide that sort of thing. It’s not like they were in the 1940s anymore pretending same sex soulmates were platonic. Coulson sighs “Barton you don’t have to do it of course but you are the only backup available right now.”
“Fine. But you owe me coffee. The really good stuff from that fancy French place.” He’d do it without the coffee of course but he wasn’t beyond guilt tripping Coulson a little.
“Barton I will get you your coffee, but may I remind you that we are in a bit of a rush right now” Clint sits at that. “Thank you for your cooperation” Coulson says with no small amount of exasperation.
“No worries. I’m a professional” Clint smirks.
“Of course, you are” he responds. But Coulson smiles slightly as he says it, so Clint knows he’s amused.
“So, what’s the play? Am I the hot yoga instructor or the personal assistant?” he asks, curious.
“You’re the notary.”