Work Text:
Phil—
Sorry for disappearing from the bed this morning. I thought someone was in my apartment and I wasn’t wrong. One of the men I work for likes to leave me job specs on my kitchen table just because he can. It’s an annoying little power play but at least he’s not leaving them in the bathroom while I’m in the shower, but yeah. Whatever. Just sorry for poof-ing like that.
I dunno when I’ll be back. A week? Two? Feel free to stick around my place. I left you a key in your suit jacket pocket. Left breast. I figured it was about time for that, you know? You’re at mine often enough and it’s not like I don’t trust you. Eat all the perishables, okay? Thanks.
—Clint
Clint -
Don’t worry about it, I’m well aware of how this job works sometimes.
I won’t ask for details, but keep me appraised of your schedule, we’ll go get dinner the night you come back or something.
I’ll keep an eye on your place.
- Phil
Phil—
Thanks a bunch. It’s just a bit of being a burly body guard/eye candy or whatever.
Boss gets a bit sentimental and enjoys the old-fashioned gentlemanly niceties when he goes killing. It’s odd, really. But kinda endearing. And I get an excuse to wear a suit because killing people is very fashionable—I hope you heard the sarcasm in that by the way.
—Clint
Clint -
I have to admit that you get more interesting jobs than I used to. That’s what I get for never freelancing, I suppose. That said I read your email and every mental image I had included bow ties, spats and weaponry. Hm. And you should be able to take odd in stride by now, odd is SOP at SHIELD.
Also, the couch in my office now seems curiously empty.
- Phil
Phil—
Close enough, but he thinks bow ties are tacky. I’m usually required to wear a three piece suit in his presence. It’s kinda fun. I pretend to be a 1940s mobster sometimes. Quietly. To myself. And yeah, very interesting. I’d drag you along but… he likes to collect people. Permanently. He’ probably kill you himself if you wouldn’t ditch SHIELD for him and he’s got the bad side of the weird under his control.
He’s not one of the good guys, Phil. I’m selective on my jobs with him, make sure the outcome is for the good. He does do some of those, you know? But he’s not a good guy. Luckily he keeps what’s worse under control.
You don’t have to remind me to be careful with him. I never relax around the guy.
—Clint
Clint -
I blame all of my grey hair on you, just so you know. Thank you for giving me just enough information to worry, even though I know quite well you can handle yourself. My end, well. It’s possible I’m going to be sent out sometime soon. Nothing confirmed let, I’ll keep you apprised of the situation.
- Phil
Phil—
Anything for you ;P I’ve been dealing with him since before we met and I’m still enjoying breathing and free will, so I don’t think you have to worry for my virtue just yet.
I’ll try to hurry this up. I don’t wanna miss you. Jim won’t complain about being ahead of schedule as long as what he needs out of the job is secured to be his.
—Clint
Clint -
I trust your decisions and don’t get me started about your virtue.
It’s confirmed, I’m being sent out. Not a short Op, either, surveillance on a selection of targets. Necessary but no action unless everything goes completely pear-shaped. Attached is my itinerary.
- Phil
Phil—
Fuck, I just missed you by a couple hours. I tried to hurry home and… yeah. Fuck. This is what I get for taking commercial flights, dammit.
Keep in contact if you can? It’ll be too quiet without you.
—Clint
Clint -
I’m sitting in one expensive hotel room keeping watch on an expensive hotel room across the street. It’s us and the FBI believe it or not. I can’t really leave while on watch so trust me, I have time for some emails.
-Phil
Phil—
Swanky. Steal something good from the minibar?
Nah, kidding. Wish you were here though. Post-kill is not nearly as fun alone as it is with you. I had to jerk off in the plane bathroom because I didn’t want to waste any time getting to you. I barely packed my rifle right after the shot, skipped cleaning her too.
You’ve ruined me for life.
—Clint
Clint -
I refuse to apologize for that. I will, however, apologize sincerely for not being there. I’m sorry. The FBI guys are playing Go. I’m already not allowed to play with them. I think I set a new record in being banned from a board game while on surveillance. The list of games is actually quite long.
- Phil
Phil—
We should play chess. I’ll give you a run for your money. Sex first though. It’s clearly a higher priority. But hey, score for Team SHIELD. Fuck you, you three-lettered agency.
—Clint
Clint -
These guys have no sense of humor. And kindly consider the source as you read that.
One of them asked me today, point blank, just what in the hell SHIELD did. His words. You ever wonder if we should do more cross organizational exercises? I’m starting to.
Bored of this and miss your voice.
- Phil
Phil—
I’m not even “in” SHIELD and I know. What kind of idiots are they employing these days?
I miss yours too. If it’s possible, you should call me.
If it’s possible to be alone, you should call me for phone sex.
—Clint
Clint -
He’s from the FBI and he has conspiracy theories. I’m going to laugh myself sick. Which he doesn’t seem to appreciate it at all.
Good news is: two more days of this garbage. Probably.
I’ll try and see about calling you tonight.
- Phil
Phil—
Good. I hope I don’t have to leave before you come back. Fury’s been giving me a hairy eyeball in the halls like he’s considering me for something. I’d stop going into SHIELD if I didn’t have to do my weapon evals for the next six months of clearance.
I miss you.
—Clint
Clint -
Don’t let him get to you. I’ll be back this weekend but it’ll be a red eye flight. I’ll be in no shape to drive, think you can pick me up from the airport?
- Phil
Phil—
As of now, yes, but who knows what’ll happen this weekend?
Good news, finished my evals. Amazing what I can get done without you around and being distractingly sexy. Or sexily distracting.
You’re the best damned distraction ever.
—Clint
Clint -
I’m so distracting that Fury’s probably playing keep away so you will get your work done on time without anyone having to hound you about it.
Attached my itinerary. Don’t you love our jobs?
Oh, and apparently the FBI guy has been fucking with me the whole time and is known for doing this. So, I spiked his coffee grounds with a powdered ghost chili.
Guess I’m playing mean this week.
- Phil
Phil—
Knowing Fury, it’s likely. I guess I’ll have to play at being a responsible adult a little more. (Nat says that’s impossible. Challenge accepted.)
Spiked their coffee, huh? Hot. Pun intended. Wanna play mean with me? ;)
—Clint
Clint -
I would say I thought Natasha knew better to tell you that you couldn’t do something, but this is really in everyone’s best interest.
I don’t care how tired I am, you’re going to be walking funny the day after I get back. Consider this your single warning.
- Phil
Phil—
I’m hoping that’s more of a promise, sir. And I hope I’ll be here. Fury’s been sending me vague messages on top of the hairy eyeball. I might have to go in for something. Usually he’s never this vague. I have a feeling it might be sensitive, something I will loudly protest to, or both.
—Clint
Clint -
I swear to god if Fury cockblocks me I will sneak in his office and switch all his coffee to offbrand decaf.
- Phil
Phil—
Add some finely ground hot peppers for me? I’ll be out almost a month.
—Clint
Clint -
I’m pretty sure I just invented some swear words.
Keep me posted. We’ll have to do something special when you get back.
I miss you.
- Phil
Phil—
Heading out now.
I miss you too. I wish you could come and keep me warm. The fucker thinks it’d be fun to send me and Tasha to Russia in the winter. Well, no, no one said fun. But I bet he was thinking it.
Fucking asshat.
We’ll do something special after lots of sex. Or during. Probably not before.
—Clint
Clint -
So I went and asked him why I got cheated out of playing in the snow with my Operatives. And I immediately got sent on another job. In Brazil.
I am now convinced he’s doing this on purpose. Should be back before you are though.
- Phil
Phil—
We should both take a long weekend after this. And not leave the bedroom. Or the bed.
Well, sometimes the bed. I digress (and yes, I know what that word means. Natasha is looking at me skeptically as I narrate this like I need to prove that I fucking know it).
But yes. You + me + bed + NOT Russia = fun.
—Clint
Clint -
I have loads of unused vacation time. A long weekend is doable. More than doable (during which a minimum of clothing will be involved if I have my way).
And now I’m laughing helplessly imagining Natasha’s expression and a bunch of Brazilian cops are staring at me. Oi.
- Phil
Phil—
Sounds fucking fantastic, sir. I await with open legs.
No worries about eavesdroppers on my end, I have an earbud in. They only hear my dictations. I think they’ll go mad with curiosity. Or not. They probably don’t want too many details. They’d probably throw stuff if there wasn’t the threat of you kicking their asses with whatever they throw. How lucky am I to have you protect my virtue from a distance.
...I should start saying cryptic shit just to piss’em off.
—Clint
Clint -
The spotted raven is flying backwards and it’s a cold day for pontooning.
John has a long mustache.
- Phil
Phil—
Me, not you, ass. Ooh, apparently I can’t call the boss an ass. Such threats upon my person. Oh dear, oh dear. What ever should I address Fury with now? No, Tash, I don’t say it to his face, I value my bits where they are, thanks.
I’d say she sends her love but, well, you know.
—Clint
Clint -
You’ve called me worse and I might have deserved that.
And yes, understood, Natasha sends her undefined begrudging fondness that doesn’t get a name because that’d be unprofessional or something.
So, when we both get back in the same location.. Sushi?
Tempted to just have you send voice recordings, miss your voice.
- Phil
Phil—
Sushi sounds heavenly. Yes. Please.
Going in, call for radio silence. I’ll probably sign to Tasha and she can write to you for me. Just… behave. She has enough blackmail on me.
—Clint
Clint -
Sushi it is!
Hi, Tasha. Wish I was with you guys instead of about to take shots at some jackasses in Brazil. Or alternatively wish you were both here with me. Drinks on the beach would be happening.
- Phil
PC —
Drinks anywhere would be amazing right now. I’m surrounded by morons. Excluding Clint, but don’t tell him that. The kicked puppy face is still amusing.
Clint says: Radio silence sucks. And so does sitting around and waiting for these guys to move.
I agree.
— NR
NR -
You’re not the only ones waiting. I’ve been prone on a roof for a few hours now and my targets might be no-show at this point. I have a local asset with me as spotter, he’s kind of weirded out because I’ve reversed the roles from normal. Also because I’m still in a suit and tie. Is that really that strange?
So, on my end it’s some pricks doing disease research we are discouraging with gunfire. Something to do with AIDS and this being Brazil, yeah. Apparently they’ve been using the public as a petri dish. No amount of showers is going to get this creep factor off for a while. What’s on your end? Anything interesting or the usual former Soviet Bloc bullshit?
- PC
PC —
Coulson… they’re trying to reconstruct The Room.
— NR
NR-
And I’m not there?
WHAT IN THE HELL FURY?
Shit. Many drinks on me after this clusterfuck, Tasha.
- PC
PC —
Fury doesn’t want to risk you getting caught. You know too much sensitive information compared to us.
I respectfully agree with him.
And frankly, you’re a distraction to Clint so early in this… thing. A few missions apart should help.
— NR
NR-
I remain unhappy even if that’s a logical reason.
And frankly time will not cure this distraction. In fact I’m nearly certain time will exacerbate it.
Speaking of distractions, Clint hasn’t been chiming in, you guys getting busy over there?
- PC
PC —
He went in almost four hours ago.
He has ten more minutes before assuming he’s been compromised and have to retreat.
Sorry.
— NR
NR-
It’s been fifteen minutes.
Give me good news or tell me to call in some favors regarding a flight to Russia.
- PC
PC —
It’s fine. I can hear him.
— NR
NR -
Details, woman. Status please.
- PC
PC —
I can’t see him so I can’t be sure.
We’re not allowed to move in.
— NR
NR-
Bring him back to me, Tasha.
Please.
- PC
PC-
He’ll come home no matter what, Coulson. I’ll make sure of it.
— NR
NR-
Movement on my end. Have to focus for a while.
- PC
PC —
It’s been a week. Checking in.
Still alive.
— NR
NR-
Alive.
Not happy.
But alive.
- PC
PC —
Sorry it’s been another week.
Back at temp base.
Best if you not come right now.
— NR
NR-
I’m finally on a plane home, with a few new scars for my trouble.
See you all soon, I hope.
- PC
PC —
Thanks. He’ll message you soon enough.
— NR
NR-
Been a week. Fury won’t tell me where my Agents are.
What is going on.
- PC
Phil—
Miss me?
—Clint
Clint -
If only you could see my relieved smile right now.
Yes, I missed you, and I’m so glad to know you’re still with me.
- Phil
Phil—
Mostly, I lost a chunk of my ear somehow. Like a cat that got into a fight.
I can’t believe I’ve been gone three weeks… I only remember about one.
—Clint
Clint -
You win, I just have some nice new scars on my side and leg from going out a window the hard way. Alley cats are certainly a good comparison for what we are.
So, are you coming home soon or should I give up and fly to you?
Fury already conceded the week off. I might have glared at him unblinking until he caved.
- Phil
Phil—
Stay at home vacation then? I was kinda hoping somewhere warmer than New York in the winter.
You’ll have to teach me that glare.
—Clint
Clint -
No Jamaica or Mexico. Beyond that, pick where you want to go. I’ll get us a hotel room.
- Phil
Phil—
Morocco. It’s been awhile since I’ve been.
—Clint
Clint -
Hotel information attached to this email. Got myself a flight, do you need me to arrange yours and would you like me to grab you some clothing from your place?
- Phil
Phil—
Flight no, clothes yes.
It’ll take a while to get out, pick me up at the airport?
I’ll be the idiot in a sweater and a sling.
—Clint
Clint -
I can't wait.
I'll see you soon.
- Phil
Phil—
You and me both. Gotta put away the phone. I'm going to try to sleep but... you know.
—Clint
Clint -
I'll watch over you when you get here.
- Phil
Phil—
I know. Thanks.
Miss you.
—Clint
Clint -
Miss you too. Be safe.
- Phil
Phil—
Boarding now. Flight schedule attached.
—Clint
Clint -
I'll be there.
- Phil