A/N: This is a humorous fic that came to me while I was, well, driving. Hope you enjoy.
Still about driving. Will get to the flying soon.
Namaste,
~Sandy
Avengers
License to Scare
Driving 2
Phil opened the driver's door of the Viper and got in. "Hey, I got my license now. Let me drive."
The senior agent slipped on a pair of Oakleys similar to the ones Barton wore, started the engine and backed carefully out of the parking space. "No."
Barton's eyebrows drew together over his nose in confusion. "But I'm legal now."
Pulling sedately into the afternoon traffic, Phil braked smoothly to a stop at the light. "You're also grounded…"
"What?!"
"…for a month." And while Barton sputtered and complained, Phil grinned and drove on, diligently obeying every traffic law.
Just as they reached SHIELD headquarters, Barton turned to him with a grin. "So, when this 'grounding' is over, can I learn to fly?"
~~O~~
"No."
Taken aback, Clint shifted in his seat. "When this training began you said being a pilot was part of the job."
Without taking his eyes off the road, Coulson shrugged one shoulder. "As your instructor, I reserve the right to make changes to the curriculum whenever I feel there's a need."
Turning to look out the window, Clint watched the scenery go by until the solution came to him. "I know what this is about."
"Oh?"
Clint grinned and waved his finger in the air in triumph. "You're doing this because I borrowed…"
"Stole."
Rolling his eyes, Clint made air quotes, "…misappropriated your precious car. This baby…" he caressed the dashboard reverently, "…has an eight 8.4 liter V-10 engine, a Borg Warner T-56 six-speed manual transmission, and does 0-60 is four seconds. What's the use of having a car like this if you don't drive it the way it was meant to be driven?"
The car came to a smooth stop before the crosswalk, just like the manual said. It was so annoying! Why can't he take a risk now and then?
"Like you just did?" Coulson spoke in his normal, even, slightly bored tone, pushing his sunglasses up on his head and piercing Clint with a glare.
Snorting, Clint slung his left arm over the back of his seat, turning sideways so he could see Coulson. He thought of the man as a mentor though he'd rather let mice crawl all over his naked body than admit it. After living a nomadic life with the circus from the age of twelve to less than a year ago, Clint had taken a while to acclimate to living and working at the SHIELD training compound in Quantico. Used to being in one place for two weeks at the most, staying put had made him restless, and having someone to talk to during those times had helped him adjust.
For the first few weeks, Clint had slept on the roof until a hurricane hit the area and he was forced inside. Thankfully, the claustrophobic feeling abated a little more each day. Now it seldom bothered him and when it did, he went for a run or took a folding chair to the roof and just watched the stars. The mundane looking building only sported four stories above ground, not even hinting at the twenty floors beneath. Most were R&D and he wasn't yet cleared to enter those areas. He'd once attempted to crawl through the ducts and had been knocked unconscious by a force field that acted like a Taser. Awakening in the Med Bay, the first thing he'd seen when he opened his eyes again were the scowling faces of Coulson and Fury. The director, he could handle, but the disappointment Phil projected had kept Clint was trying it again. So he came up with other ways of amusing himself.
Seeing the light was about to change, Coulson dropped his shades back into place and Clint could swear he smirked. "It also has a top speed of one eighty-five. But that's a theory I've never tested."
Shrugging again, Clint faced front. "I didn't even get close to that so why're you giving me grief?"
~~O~~
From the corner of his eye, Phil watched Barton as he adjusted his seat belt snuggly over his lap and across his chest. Ignoring Barton's question, Phil pushed the clutch down to the floor and dropped into first gear.
Grinning, the SHIELD agent kept his eyes on the signal light, and the second it turned green, he brought his right foot down on the gas pedal while letting out the clutch. The Viper spun its wheels, the screeching loud with the top down. It shot through the intersection amidst peeling rubber and smoking tires throwing Barton back and pinning him in his seat.
Weaving in and out of the traffic, Phil shifted smoothly, his right hand joining the left on the steering wheel once he'd reached sixth gear. The light up ahead turned yellow just as Phil pressed down on the gas, his speed well over the posted limit.
He slowed down when he came up on slower traffic, riding the rear bumper of a Chevy. As soon as a space opened up, he swerved around the Chevy, changed lanes inside an intersection as he made a right turn. Within minutes, he ran a stop sign and gained even more speed. A highway ramp beckoned and Phil gave into the call. Ignoring the two teenagers about to step off the curb, he made a hard left, blew through a red light causing the cross traffic to slam on their brakes and honk their horns.
Phil drove on, nudging the speedometer up past the one fifty and headed quickly for two hundred, his grin still in place and eyes on the road. Barton shifted in his seat and cleared his throat as Phil did his best to rattle the archer's calm. Without looking, he knew that his protégé, as he liked to think of him, was using all his will power to not show that he was…concerned.
I can use that, Phil mused to himself, his grin going internal as if he too were alarmed about the situation. The senior agent let off the gas, the whine of the engine throttling back loud with the top down, and Barton slumped in his seat, exhaling the breath he'd been holding.
At the high-five junction, Phil took the highest ramp, the northbound exit, at twenty miles over the speed limit, slowing as he reached the apex then speeding up again as he reached the bottom where it joined the next highway. There was less traffic here so he again bumped his speed up, quickly passes his previous high and headed toward the "suggested" highest of one eighty-five.
A sharp intake of air came from Barton as he grabbed the dash and pushed both feet against the floorboard way under the glove compartment has they neared closely packed traffic moving barely moving. He wrenched the wheel sharply to the left turning the Viper into the median. Once he'd passed the slow traffic he yanked the wheel to the right and pulled back onto the roadway.
"What the hell! Coulson!"
The high-pitched whine of a police siren started at the edge of Phil's hearing coming closer with every second and flashing lights appeared in the rear view mirror. "Relax, Barton. Looks like the cops are coming to save you."
Phil held in a snort of laughter as Barton's tightly muttered, "Thank God!" as he came to a stop under an overpass.
A pair of state troopers walked up to the car, one on either side. The one at the driver's door unexpectedly smiled. "Hey, Mr. Coulson. Haven't seen you and your ride in these parts for a while."
"Good to see you again, Roy."
The muscular trooper looked at his partner. "Jerry, this here's the guy I was tellin' you about."
Jerry tipped his hat. "Pleasure, sir."
"Work's been hectic the last few months, Roy, so I was just taking her out for a spin. This is my friend, Clint Barton."
The two law enforcement officers nodded a greeting to Clint who returned the gesture. Roy leaned on the top edge of the windshield. "So what you get up to this time?"
"Just hit one seventy-nine when you stopped me."
"Too bad we had to stop you. There's an accident up the road a ways and you were about to run right into it. We're sending everyone off the highway onto alternate routes. Best go back the way you came."
Now Phil was genuinely concerned and he could feel the same from Barton. "Was anyone hurt?"
"Yeah. But CareFlight picked 'em and they're at Mercy Hospital. They have the best trauma center in the area."
He'd been so quiet that Phil was surprised when Barton spoke. "Anything we can do to help?"
Roy shook his head. "Just a matter of cleanin' up now. But thanks for askin'." He stepped back. "Take it easy now, guys."
Using the emergency turnaround, Phil headed back the way they'd come albeit at a much slower pace. Nothing was said between the two men until they reached the airstrip for the ride back to the helicarrier. Before they climbed the ramp, Barton drew Phil to a stop. "I get it now."
"Get what?"
"There's a time and place for taking chances. And just because you can, doesn't mean you should."
Phil considered Barton's words and the sincerity in his tone and expression. Clapping his companion on the shoulder, he smiled. "Sounds like a lesson learned. Come on. I'll buy you a beer when we get back to the helicarrier."
"Thanks." Phil started up the ramp just ahead of Barton, not stopping when the archer asked, "Does that mean my grounding is rescinded?"
Pursing his lips to hide the grin his smile had turned into, Phil said, "No."
Barton came up beside him, hitting the control to close the hatch. "Had to ask."
"No, you didn't." Taking a seat on the starboard side, Phil crossed one leg over the other as Barton flopped into the seat across from him. After a short pause, the senior agent called out, "Lieutenant Davis, how about letting Probationary Agent Barton co-pilot this flight?"
The young Air Force pilot took off his headset and stood behind the "shotgun" seat, patting the headrest. "Let's go, Probie. We got a world to save."
From the corner of his eye, Phil saw a brief flicker of excitement cross Barton's face and just as quickly was extinguished as he rushed forward and slid into the seat, listening intently as Davis gave him instructions.
End