When Clint is first transferred into Coulson's care, he thinks his time is nearly up. Everyone knows about Agent Coulson, Fury's right-hand man and the Agent's Agent. Perfect, Untouchable, and very much By the Book. Clint almost decides to skip town before his first op with the man just to save some time and hope that maybe SHIELD doesn't look for him too hard. But sheer curiosity has him sticking around long enough to get to see for himself how the Legend works.
Coulson's voice over the comm is everything he'd expected - calm, confident, and efficient - no time wasting, no unnecessary instructions, just a request for status. Clint could have played along, answered the way he was expected to, been a good boy, and maybe he'd get to stay employed a little longer. But Clint hasn't rolled over for anyone since childhood and he isn't going to start with some government suit, even if it is Perfect Coulson. So does what he always does - he bitches about stupid Logistics and their dumb-ass idea of the perfect position - as if any of them has ever shot a rifle in their lives.
And that is when Coulson completely blows Clint's image of him out of the water - asking if Clint has a better idea like he means it, like he actually wants to know the answer and isn't just being sarcastic. And then he actually listens when Clint tells him his idea - listens and lets Clint act on it and get the job done. And when it is all said and done and the mission accomplished, Coulson actually says 'Good work' like he appreciates Clint - like Clint is a person, a professional in his own right and not just a tool to be used and misused by the higher ups.
Clint spends the entire trip back to base waiting for the other shoe to fall - he figures he'll get it in the debriefing: some sort of show of authority, some reminder not to forget his place - to not mistake the exception for the rule. Instead, what he gets is a couple of reasonable guidelines for what feels an awful lot like a partnership.
Coulson wants to hear his ideas, won't make him stay silent when it isn't necessary, even promises to explain when he makes a different call. And then the ultimate gift - Clint goes from one handler shy of being kicked out to being taken off Probationary, giving him the freedom he needs to maintain his secret. Because Coulson trusts him. Clint doesn't remember the last time someone actually trusted him.
The months that follow are arguably the best months of Clint's life since everything in the circus went so horribly wrong. As surprised as Clint was at the way Coulson treated him when they started working together, he's even more surprised that Coulson actually keeps his promises. After the first few ops start out the exactly same way: Coulson telling Clint what position Logistics assigned him and Clint pointing out a much better position - Coulson starts ignoring Logistics completely and simply telling Clint to pick his position. After the first month they make a game of it - Coulson waits until after the target is eliminated to point out to Clint where Logistics thought he should have made the shot from, and Clint enumerating with exaggerated indignation all the ways that spot was inferior to the one he'd chosen.
The regimented on-base schedule that Clint was used to and chafed under with other handlers disappears with Coulson. Coulson, apparently, doesn't care how Clint spends his time when he's not on an op or in debriefing. Whereas other handlers responded to Clint's 'insubordination' by being more and more controlling to the point that Clint had to ask permission to use the range, Coulson just quietly removes all the restrictions from Clint's ID badge and tells Clint to let him know if he has any problems.
Coulson doesn't even yell at Clint the first time he works the range until his fingers bleed after a failed op - he just shows up and stands in the doorway until Clint finally puts his bow away and then takes him down to Medical to get patched up. Coulson doesn't ask where Clint goes every night, just asks him to check in when he gets back. And if the watercooler incident is anything to go by, Coulson doesn't even mind Clint terrorising the junior agents - in fact, Clint has a sneaking suspicion Coulson was amused.
Clint still chatters on the comms, but it stops being a way to vent his frustration and starts being something he does for those little sighs and huffs of almost-laughter that tells him Coulson's actually listening.
And then one day Clint is mocking the petty dictator in his sights: "And that hat, Coulson, what the hell's up with that? It's like putting a huge-ass bright red target on the guy's head shouting 'shoot me, shoot me!'"
"But it's such a very fetching hat," Coulson actually answers, "I'm tempted to get one myself - what do you think Barton? Would it suit me?"
Clint is silent for a moment in shock before he gasps out a strangled laugh. "It'd bring out your eyes, sir," he replies with a grin.
"Take the shot, Barton," Coulson orders.
"Yes, sir," Clint says, and spatters the man's brains across the general standing next to him - all without knocking off the splendid hat.
No one told Clint that Coulson was actually funny. Although that could be because no one else seems to know. The idea that Coulson's sense of humour might be reserved for him alone gives Clint a warm glow of satisfaction.
After the first time, Coulson starts responding to Clint's snarky comm chatter more and more often. So Clint starts bringing take out his debriefings - he's noticed that Coulson likes the little Chinese place down the street when he remembers to eat at all, and since Coulson never seems to go home until late, Clint figures the least he can do is feed the man while he's taking up his time.
Clint uses the excuse of finishing up his own meal to stick around Coulson's office even after the official debriefing is over. The first time he does it, Coulson shrugs as if to say 'suit yourself, but don't expect me to entertain you' and starts work on a stack of his seemingly endless paperwork.
"Need some help with all that?" Clint asks, because Coulson's got bags under his eyes and he looks tired and the part of Clint that is glad Coulson trusts him enough to let him see it is overshadowed by the part of him that wants to fix it.
"Barton, I've seen your reports," Coulson says, raising an eyebrow, and Clint grins, because yeah, he's been known to turn in reports that read "There were bad guys. I shot them with my arrows. They died." complete with illustrative stick figures.
"No, really. I can be serious when I need to be," he says, and the eyebrow just goes higher. "I can!" Clint protests, and Coulson looks at him speculatively.
"If you're sure?" he says, like he thinks Clint will suddenly remember he has some place better to be and it hits Clint all at once that there really is no place he'd rather be right now than here in Coulson's office helping him with his paperwork. Clint hasn't had a run in two days but that's ok, it can wait and oh shit, Clint thinks, he's totally in love with his handler.
But freak-outs will have to wait too, because Coulson's actually waiting for a response and Clint nods emphatically and says "Really, it's not a problem," and accepts the stack of forms he's handed - all related to their most recent op and Clint had no idea how much bureaucracy is involved in shooting people. Clint grabs a pen from Coulson's pen-holder - because of course all of Coulson's pens are exactly where they belong - and loses himself in the simple fill-in-the-blank nature of his task. And if his heart does a little flip-flop when Coulson thanks him for his help at the end of the night with a real, genuine smile that actually reaches his eyes - well, no one has to know that part.
Clint doesn't even bother going to the small apartment he's renting that night. He just drives off into the mountains and grows his fur and runs for hours and when he finally comes in from the woods in the morning, human skin filthy and scratched and belly full of rabbit, it only serves as a reminder of why he can never have what he wants.
It's not as disappointing a realisation as one might think. For one thing, Clint Barton very rarely gets what he wants, at least when it comes to his own personal happiness, and he's rather used to it. His general response to not getting what he wants is to convince himself he never wanted it in the first place, and Clint can be very persuasive. So Clint goes back the next morning and Coulson thanks him again for his help with the paperwork and Clint makes a crack about expecting to be repaid in sexual favours that Coulson actually laughs at and the next time they debrief, Coulson hands over Clint's share of the reports without protest. It becomes their thing - Chinese and debrief with a paperwork chaser - and Coulson starts calling him 'Clint' and tells Clint he can call him 'Phil' - at least when they're alone in Phil's office - and they're friends and it's very near perfect.
