The whole thing started when Phil Coulson was 38 years old. After a short but steep career with the military he'd been with the CIA for 2 years before Fury recruited him into SHIELD. With 33 years Phil had been old for a new recruit, but his past experience and his talents let him lose the newbie status quickly. He seldom went on solo missions but he was often responsible for the preparation and organization of field operations and supervised other agents as their handler.

On that particular mission he worked with agents Hino and Meyer. A quiet little espionage run, where Meyer worked the computer angle, while Hino infiltrated the enemy in person. Meyer was pretty good at what she did and while Hino wasn't among SHIELD's best spies, his abilities were more than adequate for the job at hand. Until they met with complications that was.

Obviously someone besides SHIELD was interested in the secrets of Merckman Inc. They recognized the signs two days after going in and while Hino followed his leads inside the company, Meyer ran very thorough background checks. Both found the mole at about the same time. Hino confronted "Mike Johnson" on the roof of a neighboring building. He had come to the decision that "Johnson" as an unknown was too much of a liability.

"Don't." Coulson's mild voice stopped Hino before he could pull the trigger. Both men were surprised by the interruption. The SHIELD agent didn't let the surprise show on his face of course – you never let a potential enemy know what was going on in your mind. That was a lesson the other man still had still to learn. His face showed a cocky grin as Coulson stepped out of the shadows.

"Mr. Barton, I've got a proposition for you."

Hino hadn't been happy, Meyer hadn't cared one way or the other. In the end it was Coulson's call to make as the leading agent. Instead of working against each other Barton helped them with Merckman and proved himself to be quite capable. When Coulson recommended to recruit him Director Fury's answer was: "Do what you think is best. I don't pay you so well because I don't trust your judgment, Coulson." And that was that.

It wasn't Coulson's only field recruitment and he wasn't the only higher level agent to 'pick up strays' as they called it, so it should have been in no way special.

Naturally Phil kept an eye on the new recruit – he was thorough that way. Clint Barton had many talents and he was eager to better himself, but his file also mentioned a problem with authority and a natural tendency towards insubordination. Coulson found this curios. Every time he met Barton the man tried to push his buttons – sure – but he never saw anything in his behavior that might endanger the mission, SHIELD's integrity or threatened his own authority. Phil Coulson had seen a lot of shit in his life and Barton's antics didn't phase him.

"That new guy you brought in is a pretty good sharp shooter."

Phil smiled politely at Anderson from Training, who sat down across from him in the cafeteria.

"But he's also a loudmouth and a showoff."

This wasn't the first time Phil had heard that particular claim regarding Barton. "What did he do?"

"After scoring the highest average at the range for a newbie I've ever seen, he goes on about his 'lousy' performance and claims he'd be way better with a bow – a bow! Can you believe it?"

"Have you given him one?"

"What?" Anderson was taken aback by Phil's question.

"Have you given him a bow?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Coulson."

He could have said many things to answer that. 'If his claims are valid, it would be good to know.' 'If he's just loud-mouthing, it will shut him up." But Phil Coulson didn't believe in explaining his reasoning to a person who should be intelligent enough to come to the same conclusions. He stood up from the table coffee in hand. "I'm never ridiculous, Anderson."

Three hours and a visit to R&D later, Coulson paid a visit to the shooting range.

"Mr. Barton? Agent Anderson told me that you asked for a bow."

The younger man took the offered weapon out of Phil's hand and his face showed awe. "I didn't think he'd listened to me."

"Be careful, it's a prototype, the project is still in development."

Barton's hand caressed the bow as he carefully developed a feeling for this unknown beauty.

"Don't worry – I'm always gentle."

Coulson wasn't quite sure if Barton was talking to him or the bow. Yet when he saw how the man readied the weapon and put an arrow through the dead center of the target's head with one smooth motion he decided it wasn't really important.

When Barton finished training and became a full agent he chose the codename 'Hawkeye'.

"People assume it's because of my eyesight but in fact it's the only book my father ever read," he told Coulson as they met in the hall.

"Considering your problems with authority this doesn't surprise me." Phil had long ago given up on being surprised by anything let alone by some out-of-the-blue MASH reference.

Barton laughed. "I'm the best damn sniper this unit has."

As he continued his way Phil asked himself if this meant he was Col. Potter. He hoped not – he couldn't stand horses.

The fact that his relation to Hawkeye was different from his other work relations dawned on him when – after a mission had gone really bad – Barton showed up at his office.

"Can I come in?"

Coulson looked at the younger agent. The man looked terrible. "Of course. What can I do for you?

The archer looked lost. Phil knew for a fact, that he had spent the last four hours on the range practicing and he obviously still hadn't managed to unwind. Barton scratched his ear, searching for the right words.

"Look I know this might sound weird, but... can I crash on your couch and do my paperwork here? I need to get it done, but I can't seem to concentrate and you're probably the only person who won't distract me but let me do my work."

This surprised Phil – he'd never felt the need for human company when working at his computer, but who was he to deny a fellow agent comfort which was obviously needed. He motioned towards the couch. "Be my guest."

Despite Coulson's fears Barton really did spend the next two hours working on his report without talking or distracting Phil otherwise. In fact he made good progress with his own work without any interruption. So when Barton finally got up and threw him a stick with the obviously finished report, Phil was considerably less stressed than he had thought he'd be.

"It wasn't Sitwell's fault. I wish I could blame him, but there really wasn't anything he could have done differently."

It was always difficult when an agent died in the line of duty and Sitwell as the senior agent on the mission would have a hard enough time coping anyway. It was a good thing that Barton wouldn't put undeserved blame on top of that.

"Sometimes bad things happen, Agent Barton. The important thing is to not give up no matter what."

Barton gave him a small smile as he left.

It became a kind of thing. Clint Barton wasn't good at putting his reports in on time, but somehow in Phil Coulson's office he managed to concentrate on his work. Phil on the other hand believed in the importance of paperwork and was willing to make sacrifices if it helped to make SHIELD run smoothly. So about once a month when Clint had to hide from Fury or any other of the higher ups because he was too much behind on his reports he could be found in Coulson's office doing his homework.

No matter how hard you tried or how thoroughly you prepared no one had a perfect run, so the day was inevitable when a mission Coulson was responsible for went down the drain. A dead civilian and two agents in IC who were unlikely to pull through. He had managed to achieve the mission objective but the price was too damn high.

He sat in his office staring at his computer screen. The paperwork was a nightmare – usually Phil faced every document with the same thorough determination, but today he just stared at the screen struggling with the words.

When the door of his office opened without a warning, Phil looked up irritated – even Director Fury knocked before he entered – only to see Barton standing in his door. Barton holding a bottle of whiskey, two cups of coffee and a bag of donuts under his arm. The other man came in, kicked the door close behind him and put everything on Phil's desk.

"I didn't know your poison, so I brought the three most likely candidates."

It was too early for alcohol and Phil wasn't the type to drown his sorrows anyway but he appreciated the thought. He picked the cup of coffee that contained milk and far too much sugar for his usual taste and opened the pack of donuts. Barton picked up the other cup and let himself drop on the couch.

Coulson was grateful for the coffee, the comfort food and the company as he turned towards his computer to type.

Coulson hesitated to call what he had with Barton a friendship. The archer was his subordinate in the ranks of SHIELD and on every mission they had together. They never saw each other during their off-time, since neither of them had much anyway and the job always came first. Agent Coulson did his best to keep his professionalism. But after he showed Barton the magic of keyboard shortcuts to make his paperwork easier the younger man was so ridiculously grateful, that his adoring eyes and his "Thank you, Coulson" caused him to automatically reply:

"Phil is fine as long as we're not talking professionally."

The younger man grinned. "That's probably the most shocking thing I've ever heard you say."

Coulson's brow rose.

"The very idea of you being anything but professional."

"You can be quite a pain, Barton."

The archer shook his head "Clint," he corrected."

"You can be quite a pain, Clint. Now better press String-S before you accidentally delete your work – again."

The fact that he liked Barton never interfered with his duties. He liked quite a lot of the SHIELD personnel – the main difference was, that Clint got him and knew that under the perfectly calm, polite exterior, Phil really did care. But when they were working together they weren't friends. Coulson was the boss and did his job of telling others what to do and keeping them in line and Barton was the best damn sniper SHIELD had and did as he was told – mostly.

Hawkeye listened to Coulson more so than to any other handler, because a) he trusted him and b) he knew that Coulson listened to him if he had different ideas, too. There were times, when Barton went against orders, tested the limits of Coulson's tolerance of his 'special' methods. It usually ended with Hawkeye banned from the shooting range for a couple of days until he remembered why command structure was a necessary thing.

And then Lviv happened.

Coulson was just there to pick Hawkeye up after a solo mission, a straight forward elimination. Things went downhill when Barton didn't show up alone but brought the target with him – alive. He asked very eloquently for the Black Widow to be recruited and the woman didn't do a bad job of selling herself. Which was the only reason why he didn't shoot her then and there. Which in turn meant he had to bring her in and put her case in front of the director.

Agent Phil Coulson was sitting in his office doing paperwork, when a knock on his door interrupted his concentration.

"Come in, Agent Barton," he said without hesitation.

Barton slipped into his office and shut the door behind him.

"Have you spoken to Fury yet?"

The field agent sounded slightly nervous but Coulson didn't feel much pity – Hawkeye had gone against his mission objective and violated orders.

"Yes," he answered without looking up from his files, his voice giving nothing away.

Barton stood at attention in front of his desk, waiting for him to elaborate. Coulson didn't do him the favor of even acknowledging his presence. Barton was patient, he was used to wait for hours at at time until he could place that one shot. Still in the end he lost his nerves first.

"What did he say?"

Coulson looked up from his paperwork with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"...Sir."

The sign of submission hadn't been easy for Barton. Even after years as a SHIELD agent he still had problems with authority and he grew very defensive when he knew he was in the wrong. So Phil counted this as quite a victory. He let out a small sigh.

"The woman will undergo psychic evaluation to decide whether she's suitable to become an agent."

At those words a lot of tension left the archer's shoulders.

"The director will still rip you a new one for going against your orders, agent," Coulson reminded him mildly.

Barton shrugged. As far as he was concerned it was worth it – as long as the woman got a fair chance. And he knew that Fury would have just had her eliminated if no one but himself had pleaded her case.

"Thank you, Phil."

"I don't believe in wasting resources – besides it's not her fault that you screwed up." He made a short pause. The fact that he trusted Barton's instincts was evident in his arguing of Natasha Romanoff's case.

"I've got work to do, Clint," he dismissed the archer and turned once again to his files.

Things were tense for a while after that. Coulson wasn't sure how he should deal with Clint as a friend when his professional relation to Barton was dominated by the archer's disregard for his orders. Barton wasn't sure if he still was welcome in Phil's office under the circumstances, so he rather stayed away.

Both of them kept a close eye on Natasha Romanoff's progress. The psych department shared Hawkeye's view that the ex-KGB spy would be well suited for a career as a SHIELD agent so her training began immediately. It was mostly an assessment of her abilities and psychological training to ensure she would be able to deal with her new situation.

There were people among the ranks of SHIELD who didn't trust the Black Widow and so her first mission was pushed back and back out of fear that she might turn against them.

Coulson was used to people interrupting his work because they wanted something, so the knock on his door didn't surprise him.

"Yes, come in."

Natasha Romanoff entered his office. He hadn't seen her since he had dropped her into one of SHIELD's cells and had gone off to clean up the whole mess of Barton's mission. She looked better now – less resigned.

"I'm ready you know, " she informed him.

Having studied her progress he tended to agree with her opinion.

"Miss Romanoff, what makes you think I can do anything about your situation?"

She shrugged. "Barton clearly can't. He reported to you, so maybe you can. If not I might have to break into the director's office to proof my point."

She didn't have the clearance to be anywhere even near his office, yet she was here – she might be good enough to make good on her word.

"I'd strongly suggest, that you don't. I'm not sure if Director Fury trusts you enough to not kill you if you do that."

She acknowledged his judgment with a small nod.

"Will you do something?"

He gave her a small smile. He knew from her psychological file that she wasn't as unemotional as she acted but he appreciated her no-nonsense approach.

"Don't come here again until you have clearance for this floor and I'll see what I can do."

He had no doubt, that she would gain that security clearance pretty quickly once she was allowed to proof herself.

She returned his smile. "Da," she promised and left as quickly as she had come.

A month later one of the unexpected knocks on his door turned out to be Agent Barton.

"Hey Coulson."

It was the first time since Lviv that he'd dropped in without warning and although he showed signs of his cocky grin he stood a little forlorn in the middle of Coulson's office instead of just dropping on the couch as he usually did.

"Barton." Phil kept his voice carefully neutral.

"I'm here to drag you out, you know – to celebrate. Natasha's first mission was a brilliant success and it seems they won't keep her on the ultra-short leash anymore. So it's time to go out and get some drinks."

"I've got work to do, agent."

The archer's wounded puppy look was heartbreaking but he hadn't given up just yet.

"You always got work to do. The world won't end if Agent Phil Coulson takes an evening off to celebrate – Sir."

It was almost 8 PM and he would have to take a break for dinner soon anyway. Still he wasn't sure if this was a good idea.

"Tasha ordered me to get you out of here at gun's point if necessary."

"Since when is Agent Romanoff authorized to give you orders, Barton?"

"I don't care if she's authorized – she's a very scary woman and I won't argue with her."

Phil got up and took his jacket. "I'm sure to remember that."

It took a very short time indeed for Natasha Romanoff to gain the clearance level that allowed her to more or less roam freely around the base. She came to Coulson's office and dropped him a coffee to inform him of the fact. He already knew from her file but he appreciated the personal touch.

She henceforth adopted Clint's habit of dropping in at random hours to stay for a while and leave again. Sometimes it was Tasha, more often Clint and from time to time both. They brought coffee or donuts, sometimes they came to chat or to vent their frustration about the stupidity of somebody and sometimes they simply dropped on his couch to get some work done. Coulson knew that they both had perfectly good workplaces all of their own but the Black Widow informed him that his office and more precisely his couch was the best place for doing paperwork in all of SHIELD's HQ and she wouldn't let the fact that it was 'his' office get in the way of her paperwork.

He only realized how regular these visits had become, when Agent Hill knocked on his door, pushed her head in and left immediately when she didn't find Barton on the couch.

He paid Director Fury a visit after that.

"Your office is between Hill's and the shooting range. She just checked on her way there, Coulson."

"I realize that, Sir. But the fact remains, that she expected to find him in my office. I fear I've grown too close to Agents Barton and Romanoff."

"Does or did this ever influence your work?"

He wouldn't allow that. "No Sir."

"Then Phil, SHIELD doesn't care. As far as I'm concerned you can do whatever you want as long as it doesn't interfere with your duties." Fury shook his head. He was this close to saying something inappropriate like 'Fuck them for all I care.' but held himself back. He was grateful that Phil Coulson was the kind of man to bring something potentially problematic as this to his attention instead of trying to keep it under the rug.

"Is that all, Phil?"

Coulson nodded and left with the words. "I've put the performance reviews on your desk, boss."

Today was Phil Coulson's 42nd birthday. He had planned to finish early today, go home for a change and spend a very enjoyable evening at a classical concert. The tickets had been a gift by the director and equaled the order to take half a day off for himself.

During the morning Hawkeye and Widow returned from Budapest and went into debriefing. Coulson was glad to see that both had made it back alive and in one piece and he was curious about the mission – but he told himself, that he could read the report tomorrow. He was about to leave when Natasha came into his office and dropped on his couch. She didn't say a word, but Coulson guessed that it was more than jet-lag and the debriefing that made her look so tired. He put his jacket back and sat down again. Two minutes later Barton arrived with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. He poured Tasha and himself a generous shot. Before he downed it he turned to Coulson.

"We're debriefed and off the clock."

Phil pulled a glass out of his desk and held it out to Barton as he sat down next to them on the couch.

"Me, too."

He learned more about Tasha's past that day than all her files could tell him and how it still haunted her.

He learned that Barton while under the influence of quite a bit of alcohol could still walk through HQ and produce two more bottles of vodka within 20 minutes.

He learned that in the end Clint was a bit of a light weight when it came to alcohol but Tasha could easily drink anyone under the table.

He also learned that he preferred the company of two completely drunk SHIELD agents to a nice quiet evening any day.

All three of them were among SHIELD's top agents – their success rates above average and each of them a force to be reckoned with. But when they worked together they were superb. They had their quirks, their weaknesses and histories but they knew and complimented each other so that the whole became bigger than the sum of its parts.

During the afternoons spent together working in Coulson's office, during their missions and during the evenings when they fell asleep leaning on each other, because of alcohol or exhaustion they learned more and more about each other.

How Natasha still had extreme trust issues because everyone she'd ever met until she joined SHIELD had viewed her as an asset or a tool rather than a person. How compassion and friendliness had been drilled out of her, so that she now thought herself incapable of normal emotions. How she never got sad or frightened but annoyed or angry. How she was strong enough to deal with everything on her own and courageous enough to try and learn to change her behavior patterns, to learn to trust someone.

How Clint's cocky grin tried to cover up the fact that he always feared he wasn't good enough. How he expected to be dropped on a moment's notice if his performance strayed from perfect. How he'd lost his parents at a young age, how his brother betrayed him and how he'd finally turned against his mentor, when the man had asked him to do things, Clint wasn't ready to do. How he was always compassionate and saw the good in people, that others had given up on and still expected others to give up on him.

And in turn Phil opened up, too. He told them, how he'd always believed in doing the right thing no matter the cost. He told them about the fact that he hadn't been on speaking terms with his parents since he'd joined the army at age eighteen. He told them – not in so many words, but they understood anyway – how he always put others first because deep down he put less worth on his own life and happiness than on that of others. He even told them about his obsession with Captain America and they didn't make fun of him.

There might have been a bit of goodhearted teasing later on, but nothing more than when he teased Clint about his ranting at archery scenes in films or Clint pulling Natasha's leg about her collection of Kung - Fu movies.

All in all life was good.