Coulson was tired.

It had been six hours since Loki had rained his assault on their base, and in those past hours, sitting Coulson had been busy trying to fix the large pile of trouble they now found themselves in, including the loss of one of their best agents. The lose of Barton was especially hard on him, considering the fact that he had been with him since the beginning of his career with SHEILD.

"Coulson." The sound of his boss's voice knocked Coulson out of his temporary state; he turned around and watched as Nick Fury walked into the makeshift headquarters they were forced to stay in until the hellicarrier was ready for them. Phil cleared his throat before walking a few feet toward the other man.

"Agent Romanov has been contacted, she is on her way to retrieve Doctor Banner."

"And Stark?" Fury asked quickly, his voice masked of all emotion. "Any word on him?"

"I'm on my way to New York to see him now." Fury nodded as he stopped at the computer screen in the middle of the room. Coulson took the silence coming from his boss as his cue to leave and collect the billionaire in New York, so he turned on his heels and began walking out of the room.

"Wrong Stark." Coulson stopped dead in his tracks upon hearing his boss's words, he didn't need Fury to clarify to know who he was referring to, only one person knew Clint almost as well as Natasha did. He slowly turned around so he was facing Fury again, whose eyes were dark and seemed to be asking for Coulson to argue with him.

"She won't be happy about this."

"We need every available agent to help bring Barton back," Fury explained as he pressed a few keys on the keyboard. "She's one of the best."

"She's also retired," Coulson responded quickly, earning him a glare from his superior.

"No one retires from SHIELD," Fury bit out before returning to typing in the computer. "Bring her back."

"After two years, she's not going to come back easily."

"You were her handler, correct?" Coulson merely nodded, his eyes still trained on Fury. "So handle her." He turned back to the computer and continued typing, not speaking another word to Colson, who simply sighed and made his way out of the room, trying to come up with a plan to get his old charge back to SHEILD in one piece.

It was almost impossible for Lindsay Stark to find time to herself anymore. Between juggling her job, flying from LA to New York every so often to deal with her father and help Pepper with a few things, and hang out with her friends, she was lucky she wasn't collapsing where she stood. That's why she was ecstatic that the diner she worked at was relatively quiet. There were a few people sitting in booths near the window, one or two people sitting at the bar eating burgers, but since it was after normal lunch hours, there was hardly a need for her right now.

Which was why she was currently leaning over the bar on the other side of the room, accenting the detailed drawing she had been working on for the past few days. The half-drawn face of a man stared back at Lindsay as she made small marks with her pencil, etching in a small cut on the man's cheek, right above the stubble that covered his face.

"Stark! You've got a table!" Lindsay raised her gaze from the notebook to see what the cook was talking about. Sitting in one of the booths by the long bay of windows was a man dressed in a suit, Lindsay couldn't tell much more from her angle behind him. With a sigh, Lindsay shut the book and slid it under the counter before lifting the divide and making her way to the other side of the bar. The restaurant wasn't very big, so it didn't take her long to make her way to the other side of the room and next to the table in question.

"Welcome to Lou's," Lindsay said as she pulled the small notepad out of her apron and fished a pen out from behind her ear, still not looking at the customer before her. "My name is Lindsay, how may I…" Upon looking up, she felt every ounce of air leave her lungs as she noticed who was sitting several feet ahead of her. "What the hell are you doing here?" Phil Coulson smiled back at her from his position in the booth.

"I'd like a coffee," Coulson said, watching as Lindsay stared at him like a fish out of water. Her mind was blank, she honestly couldn't think of a single reason why Phil Coulson, SHIELD agent, would be sitting in her restaurant in the middle of the day. Actually, she couldn't think of a reason why he would be in her restaurant at all. Without saying a word, Lindsay turned on her heels and moved towards the counter, grabbing one of the white mugs and filling it from one of the nearby coffee pots. Without turning to ask him how he wanted it, she poured two things of cream into the liquid and brought the mug back before the liquid finished lightening.

"What," Lindsay bit out, setting the mug down on the plastic table harder than she should have, sending liquid splashing. "Are. You. Doing. Here." As she glared daggers at the man before her, Coulson looked over her for the first time since he arrived only moments before. This was not the young girl he remembered from the last time he had seen her. No, she was a woman now; her thick brown hair was longer than it had ever been, reaching down to her lower back before curling slightly. Her brown eyes were gleaming in the late autumn sunlight, as was the silver chain that wrapped several times around her neck. She looked thinner than she had years before, though the light blue uniform she wore was a few sizes too big, so that would make anyone look small.

"Sit down," he replied, reaching forward to wrap his hand around the mug and lifting it towards his mouth.

"I'll stand," she bit out, just as harshly as before. Swallowing the bitter liquid with a grimace, Coulson shook his head and set the mug back down.

"You're going to sit when you hear what I have to say." Lindsay didn't like where this was going. Part of her wanted to turn and run, to go back to what she was doing before Coulson walked into the diner. However, she knew that there wasn't likely a chance that Coulson would let her get very far, also she knew that if he went through the trouble of tracking her down, he probably had a good reason. So, against her better judgment and every fiber of her being screaming at her to run, she slid into the booth across from Coulson, throwing her notepad on the table and folded her arms across her chest.

"I'm sitting," she said, still glaring at the handler before her, though she continued to keep her eyes on the door positioned several feet behind him. "So talk." Coulson didn't say anything right away, just stared at her with a small smile on his face.

"How do you keep the paparazzi out of here?" he asked, gesturing around the room with his hand. "You'd think they'd be all over Tony Stark's daughter working in a diner."

"You pay off the right people, the others learn to leave you alone." Lindsay continued to glare at him, her annoyance escalating. "This isn't explaining to me why you're here." Instead of answering, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small object. Pulling it out, he set it on top of the table in front of him and slid it towards the woman. The small black symbol stood out against the white plastic of the table, making it impossible to miss the all-to-familiar logo of SHEILD.

"Fury sends his regards," Coulson said, trying to gage Lindsay's response to the band. She snorted and nudged the badge back towards Coulson with the pen still clutched in her hand.

"I see that." She stared at the logo for several seconds before lifting her eyes up to meet Coulson's. "I'm not coming back."

"Lindsay…"

"I said no, Phil." Without giving him another second to speak, she got up from the booth and began walking towards the bar again before his voice made her stop.

"Barton's been compromised." Lindsay felt a mixture of emotions as Coulson's words sunk in. After a few moment of thought, she turned around and glared at the older man.

"Does Natasha know? Isn't she his partner?" Coulson stared at the girl, trying to think of a way to keep her from leaving.

"Agent Romanov knows." Lindsay rolled her eyes, cringing a bit as she thought about the last time she had laid eyes on Natasha, or Clint for that matter. "But Fury wants you to help…"

"There is no way I am helping her do anything." Lindsay glared at Coulson, who was still sitting at the booth, but since he was reaching for his wallet she had a feeling he wasn't going to stay that way for much longer. "Hell, I won't even get in the same room as her if I can help it."

"You're being unreasonable," Coulson said as he threw a $20 on the table and stood. Lindsay gave him a look like he had just told her Fury moonlights as a drag queen. Rolling her eyes again, she turned on her heels and started walking towards the bar again.' "Have a nice flight back to D.C," she muttered. She made her way back under the bar and shut the divide before she noticed Coulson had followed her.

"Nice necklace." With those two words, it felt like someone had poured ice water into her veins. Lindsay took a deep breath and tried to keep herself from snapping at him, though he held up a hand to stop her from talking again. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't absolutely necessary, we both know that." She knew he was serious; out of everyone at SHIELD, Coulson was the least likely to go looking for her after she ran, she always knew that. Even during her father's 'incident' (at least that's what she calls it), Coulson kept his distance.

With a deep breath, Lindsay made eye contact with the handler and this time, she held it.

"I'll think about it, that's all I can promise you." Coulson didn't press her beyond that. With a final smile at her, he turned around and made his way out of the restaurant. Lindsay watched him go, her eyes following him until his black suit disappeared beyond the windows.

"Stark! Table!" Finally, only because she didn't want to get fired, she sighed and moved under the bar towards the new couple that just walked in, trying to ignore the feeling of dread that hasn't left her body since Coulson started talking.