This is very short and random but I was bored on my bus. But yeah, I don't own marvel or anything to do with it. Also, I'm very sorry if you either live in Nebraska or have a pink front door, I mean nothing against you. And if you live in Nebraska AND have a pink front door… Well then, I am extremely sorry but you just blew up. Also, I am very British and don't even know where about in America Nebraska is to be brutally honest, so if the whole of Nebraska is a barren waste land and I now look like a complete idiot, that's why. I'm probably just making this worse. Please review and favourite cus that makes me happy.
Waiting in the relative's room of a hospital sat Agent Phil Coulson. He had just come off the phone, speaking to Director Fury as to how his two best agents had ended up injured, again. Both had just about finished their enforced medical leave when he had been approached about this mission. He had accepted, thinking it would be a nice and easy milk run to break them both back into shape. How wrong he was. The mission had gone spectacularly wrong and now his two agents would probably spend the next month driving him crazy. Two bored assassins was never good, but two bored, concussed assassins doped up on pain meds, well that was just a disaster waiting to happen. It could be worse though, Coulson thought, it could always be worse.
2 days later
"Coooooouulsooooooooon"
"Yes, Clint?"
"I'm booooooooooored."
"I can give you some paperwork to do if you're bored, we could start to make a dent in the huge pile of forms you two created by blowing up a safe house, losing a biological weapon, finding said biological weapon only to lose your prisoner, before allowing said prisoner to blow up said biological weapon."
"Technically, we didn't allow him to blow up the weapon. Like we tried to stop him, but when "said prisoner" has previously unknown about powers that means he can blow thing up just by looking at something, not too much we can do about it."
"Yeah, it's not like we wanted him to blow it up." a sleepy voice chimed in from the other side of the room. "Now we're on medical leave, again, for the next ever and have a furious Fury on our case."
"And anyway, it's not like we failed the mission."
"Barton, your mission was to get the weapon out of the enemy's hands, not to blow up half of Nebraska." An incredulous sounding Coulson replied.
"Well no one is getting hold of the weapon now are they? And it's not like the terrorists actually have hands anymore, so as far as I can see, which is pretty far, everyone wins."
"Except for the poor clean-up crew that had to scrape dead terrorists off of the ground. And all of the now homeless people who lived in the area that had to be evacuated. And the poor people who were stuck explaining to the government why there is now a 10 mile exclusion zone in the North of Nebraska. And the poor person who has to sort out the paperwork for all this, a.k.a. me. But yeah, wins all round."
"Yeah but the houses were ugly anyway. One of them had a pink door! A. Pink. Door. What would possess someone to do such a thing?"
"I personally find the colour pink quite a nice colour."
"You don't get an opinion here, Tash. But seriously, Coulson, it was for the greater good. Now there is one less pink door in the world."
"Barton?"
"Yes, sir?
"Stop talking."
"Sir, yes sir." In Clint's opinion, it was totally worth pulling at his stitches with his salute when he saw Coulson's face palm.
"Coooooouulsooooooooon"
Sigh. "Yes Natasha?
"I'm booooooooooored."
He was wrong, Coulson thought, nothing could get worse than this.