Yo! Next chapter is here. This one is heavily censored so if you're here for the good stuff head on over to my Ao3 account. I have the same username over there so go ahead and search my username. If you can't find it, PM me and I'll give you a link. The next chapter will be up soon I hope. I don't own Marvel in any way.
"Well, fancy seeing you here," Clint said.
Phil raised an eyebrow and took a seat at the counter beside Clint with his breakfast of toast and an orange. "Yes, it's almost like we live in the same building."
Clint gave a cheeky grin in response and bit into his apple. "So how'd that date go?"
"Fine. You said you wished to speak with me about something. We should probably do that before I get to official business," Phil said.
"Oh boy, mission time," Clint said. He tossed the apple core in the trash bin before facing Phil head on. "I wanted to apologize for what I said before. You don't need me adding on guilt you don't deserve."
Phil blinked. "Well this is a bit surprising, but thank you. I appreciate it."
"So, now that I got that of my chest. Business. Please, before I get embarrassed," Clint said.
"Right of course." Phil smiled down at his plate before taking a few bites of his toast. He knew how hard it was for Clint to truly speak about his feelings and apologize for being wrong. To be wrong for Clint was to be vulnerable after all. "We're sending you to scope out a base we believe one of Hydra's top officers is visiting. If he's there, take him out. There's a folder on who it is. I'd rather not be specific when Stark is undoubtedly listening in."
Clint smirked. "Good call. You have a doctor's visit today, don't you?"
"Thanks for the reminder," Phil said, voice dry as he began to peel the orange. "I was going to try and enjoy my day by putting it out of my mind but thanks for that."
Clint nudged him on the side on his way out of the room. "Hey you decided to be my handler again. That means I'm back to making your life difficult."
Phil watched him leave before looking back at his food. It was nice to hear Clint joking, to hear the relaxed note in the archer's voice. It could only mean they were on the right track, a real one and not something wrong covered up and masked by the relationship they'd once had. In all of the time they had been in their complicated mess of a relationship, Clint had never admitted he was wrong. They had glossed over their problems with promises of love and simple sex. Now it was better. Now they were admitting their problems. It was progress, and Phil didn't think they would've accomplished it if it weren't for their current circumstances.
Phil had just placed his dishes in the dishwasher when the elevator dinged and opened. Steve emerged, hair dripping with sweat and a towel around his neck with a bright smile on his face when he saw Phil.
"Hey. Sorry if I smell," Steve said, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a water bottle. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you. I'm glad you still enjoyed our date," Phil said.
"How could I not? You're amazing."
"How are you real? I am asking an honest question. I can't possibly deserve this kindness," Phil said.
"I just treat people the way they deserve," Steve said. "So don't say things like that. "I like you fine the way you are."
Steve set the water bottle aside and leaned forward to press their lips together in a quick kiss, though he was careful not to get too close. He grabbed the water bottle after pulling back and took a deep drink.
"Sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I really need a shower,' Steve said with a small wince. "Can we get together later?"
"I have a meeting with my doctor at 4:00. After that?"
"Okay. I'll make an early dinner at your place," Steve said with a smile.
"That sounds great, thank you."
-.-
Natasha ducked behind a metal filing cabinet, reloading her pistol before glaring across the hall at Wade.
"So nowhere in your research did you find out this guy is guarded by his own private army?" she shouted over the gunfire.
"Research? I didn't research this guy," Wade said. He pulled a grenade off his belt and yanked out the pin. "Might wanna duck."
"Are you insane?"
"It's been said."
Wade hurled the explosive down the hall and the whole building seemed to rock when it exploded. Natasha glowered at him, but when the smoke cleared and she peeked over the top of the cabinet, she was greeted by the sight of a pile of dead, and in some cases dismembered, bodies.
"That wasn't your normal type of explosive was it?" she asked, standing up completely.
"Of course not, what do you take me for?" Wade asked.
The merc vaulted over his barricade of cabinets and chairs before pulling out his pistols. Natasha took a deep breath and followed suit. Despite how problematic Wade's plan was, given that he didn't have one, she was actually enjoying herself. The lack of structure was liberating and terrifying. Sure, she had no back up, no team to pull her out, no partner whose judgment she could trust but for the first time in a long while, she was entirely free.
"Looks like they focused their forces here," Natasha said as they moved passed the bodies and down the hall. "Amateurs. Unless the rest of their force is elsewhere. I can't imagine him having much more than this."
"You worry too much." Wade came to a stop at an elevator and pressed the up button.
It opened immediately to five men with semi-automatics. Natasha got one of them in the neck before she was ducking back out of the way and grabbing hold of a nearby windowsill and shoving one of the ceiling tiles away. By the time the men piled out of the elevator, she had moved over to one of the vents in the ceiling, shooting down at them and picking them off one by one as they riddled Wade full of holes. Once they were taken care of, she jumped back out. There was a substantial pool of blood beneath Wade but he didn't seem too fazed.
"Good thinking, pretty," Wade said, stepping into the elevator.
Natasha nudged one of the dead bodies off into the corner as Wade hit the button for the top floor. "I am not digging out those bullets."
"No need," Wade said.
The elevator dinged and reopened into a spacious office. Their mark was face down on his desk, blood dripping off the edge with a bullet through his head. Natasha checked their corners quick and then went to check the body over as Wade went to look out one of the windows.
"Well, he's very much dead," Natasha said, lowering her gun as she approached Wade. "What's out there?"
"Oh we're surrounded by police," Wade said, letting the blinds flick back closed. "One of those guards must've called."
"Oh, great, this just keeps getting better and better doesn't it?" Nat tried not to sound too angry as she shoved her gun back in its holster. "So what's our plan? We're surrounded by cops and someone got to our mark first and I wouldn't be surprised if he's watching us right now."
"You really need to stop worrying so much," Wade said. "We can get out just fine. I can distract them and then you can use your super agent powers to sneak out on your own."
"That's a stupid plan," Natasha said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him over to the elevator. She jammed her thumb against the button for the basement. "I don't care if you don't die. Throwing yourself in harms way for me is stupid and a bit insulting. We can get out of this just fine, with or without a killer in the building."
"Look, whoever killed our mark is already gone, and besides, we got paid ahead of time. Who cares how he died as long as he's dead?" Wade asked.
"I don't like unanswered questions," Natasha said.
"That's one of the perks of the job. Loose ends, unanswered questions? Not a problem," Wade said. "You cut your losses, which mind you there aren't any, and move on."
"Well that's a good way to get yourself killed," Natasha said.
The elevator doors opened to the basement just as the power shut off, a sign that the police were getting ready to make their move. Natasha cursed under her breath before grabbing a small flashlight and flicking it on, glancing over to see Wade doing the same.
"Ours is bigger," Wade said.
Natasha smacked the back of his head. "I'm not in the mood for your 12-year-old maturity level."
"You're no fun. Stop worrying."
They continued down the hall, checking any door they came across only to find that they were locked. Natasha could hear a phone ringing above them, undoubtedly the police wanting to see if there was a hostage situation.
"We've got maybe ten minutes before they storm the place. Do you have any brilliant way out?" Natasha asked.
"We can always kill them."
"We're not killing police officers. They're just doing their jobs," Natasha said.
At the next door they reached, she put her flashlight in her mouth and dropped to her knees. Keeping the light fixed on the handle, she pulled out her lock picks and set to work. It took her only a few minutes, and once they ducked inside, they checked over the room.
"Great, a storage room. You've saved us!"
"Well I don't see you doing anything." Natasha climbed over some boxes and with some contortion managed to kick out an air vent before shining her light back on Wade. "So. Come with me or don't. Your choice."
Wade tapped his chin, looking off to the side. "I know she's playing it safe but we could at least humor her."
"Wade Wilson, I do not have time to listen to you talk to yourself. I'm leaving. Follow me if you want."
Natasha crawled into the vent and headed away from the center of the building. If things went right, hopefully it would lead her to the outside of the building, which given the incline of the vent was entirely possible. Wade's irritated grumbling echoed down towards her and she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. So what if he didn't die? She still didn't want to see him get riddled full of bullets again.
She rounded a corner and froze when her flashlight lighted on the barrel of a gun with a familiar face behind it.
"Mockingbird. I'm not your enemy," Natasha said.
Mockingbird smirked and clicked the safety on. "I was wondering who was causing all the commotion. Doesn't seem like your style."
"I've got a partner," Natasha said, shifting enough to reveal Wade.
The merc twiddled his fingers in a wave.
"Huh. That'd explain it. So I take it you aren't here on official SHIELD business?"
"Uh, no," Natasha said. "But I take it you killed our mark."
"Yeah, that was me."
"I guess you didn't hear then?" Natasha asked.
"Hear what?" Mockingbird asked.
"Can we wait on the chitchat until we're out of the building?" Wade asked. "I'm a bit cramped."
Mockingbird snorted and turned around to lead the way out. Natasha wasn't exactly on the best terms with the other agent, but it helped to know she had someone else that was actually reliable in the field alongside her.
When they reached the end of the vent, they were indeed along the back wall of the building. Mockingbird kicked the vent off and then pulled herself forward, still crouching.
"There's a manhole ten feet in front of us," Mockingbird said. "There's some police coverage but not much. Thank you for that by the way."
"Once again, blame my partner," Natasha said.
"You SHIELD agents are all the same," Wade said. "Do you guys ever enjoy yourselves? Serious question, really."
"I know this comes as a surprise, but we actually die," Natasha said, unable to keep the irritated note out of her voice. "Let's just do this already."
"What are bullets to us anyways?" Mockingbird asked with a confident smile.
Natasha watched her dart across the ground, a few bullets hitting the ground behind her before she flipped the cover off the manhole and disappeared beneath it. She gave Wade a hard look but he just twiddled his fingers at her in a mocking wave.
"See you in a few!" he said.
Natasha turned away and dove out into the open.
-.-
Phil shut the door behind the doctor and then sat down heavily on the couch. He always dreaded the appointments, waiting for the day they informed the plastic heart wasn't enough and he was going to die. He knew rationally it was a stupid thing to worry about. Minus Stark and Viktor von Doom, SHIELD had the best technology. Rationality didn't help his anxiety level though.
"Captain Rogers is waiting outside sir. Shall I let him in?"
"What? Uh, yes, yes, sorry," Phil said.
The door opened to reveal Steve dressed in khaki slacks and a navy blue button down shirt with a bouquet of flowers.
"I know you're not a dame but I wasn't sure what else to get," Steve said.
"No it's perfect. The apartment needs a personal touch to it," Phil said. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm finding the thought of getting up a bit stressful."
Steve hurried over, setting the flowers on the coffee table. "Is something causing you pain?"
"Just a...mild anxiety attack I think. I'll be fine in a moment, I'm sure," Phil said, despite the way his voice was beginning to shake as bad as his hands.
"Bucky got these after...well you know. Do you want me to back away or do you need me closer?" Steve asked, his voice perfectly calm as he met Phil's eyes.
Phil took in a few short, gasping breaths. "If you could stay back please."
"Okay." Steve didn't look at all offended, only crouching down so he was no longer towering over the other. "You gotta calm your breathing down. That's not good for your heart."
Phil winced at the irrational flash of panic the words sent through him. "Not helping."
"Sorry. Look at me Phil, just focus on my eyes and tell me what you're thinking."
"You have gorgeous eyes, like the blue on America's flag."
"I wish I could say I haven't heard that one before."
Phil let out a short, nervous laugh, a bit of the tension in his chest loosening. "Does this make me better or worse?"
"Cheesy lines from you are just endearing," Steve said with a gentle smile. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah. Staring into your eyes helps. They're a bit bottomless."
"Now that is a new one," Steve said.
"Points for originality. I feel better. Breathing is normal. No pain."
Steve chuckled. "No need to read off your symptoms. Can I hold you now?"
Phil nodded. "Yes, that would be appreciated. I'm not quite sure what came over me."
Steve climbed up onto the couch beside him. "It's fine. Bucky was shell-shocked for a while. I don't need an explanation if you don't want to give one. I understand just fine."
"You know they call it PTSD now," Phil said. It was nice being able to relax and slump against Steve's firm chest. He wasn't so comfortable letting his guard down but it was Steve.
"I hear it's properly treated now too," Steve said. "Between all of us, the Howling Commandos were able to hide his condition. Bucky wanted to stay and we couldn't let him get shot for treason either."
"Then you'll understand if I ask you to keep what just happened between us," Phil said. "I like my job."
"As far as I'm concerned, and pardon me for saying this, I don't have to tell SHIELD anything any more," Steve said. "Especially since what happens between us is a personal matter."
"I don't deserve you."
"You have to stop saying that," Steve said, thumb rubbing along Phil's shoulder. "And before you even think it, no this most certainly did not ruin our date."
Phil muffled his groan against Steve's chest. "One day we will have a totally normal date I swear."
"I don't mind this," Steve said. "Dates can get in the way of the actual people sometimes. So did your doctor say anything was wrong?"
"No, I just worry that one day there will be. I still remember the feeling of dying, and doctor visits just force me to think of how one day I'll feel it again," Phil said. Steve's arm tightened around him, an offer of security that coaxed Phil into saying more. "It's terrifying."
"I know," Steve said. He pressed his lips to Phil's temple. "Believe me, I know. I've been there."
Phil closed his eyes, a sigh blowing out from between his lips. "That is comforting to hear. To know I'm not alone in my fear. You aren't supposed to be afraid as a handler. You keep it together when your agent can't."
"Sounds...stressful. In the Howling Commandos, that was my job."
"We are quite similar, aren't we?" Phil mused, pushing himself upright.
"Yeah. It's nice. I've spent a long time feeling alone since I...woke up," Steve said. "But I guess we can chase that loneliness away together, can't we?"
"I'm waiting for the day you don't say something perfect," Phil said, his smile teasing. "It will probably happen as soon as we actually have a normal date."
Steve flushed. "I think you're putting too much faith in my abilities."
"No, I don't think so." Phil got to his feet and grabbed the flowers off the table. "I'll put these in water. We can make dinner now."
Steve stood up and wrapped his arms around Phil in a firm embrace. "Okay."
Cooking with Steve was surprisingly fun. His relationship with Clint had been mired in an unhealthy dynamic and so even their down time wasn't exactly fun. With Steve, things were different. Their troubles, their darker, worrisome thoughts weren't at the forefront, but they weren't being ignored either. Phil hadn't quite realized how awful his relationship with Clint had been, so unbalanced, until he had something to compare it to.
"So who's recipe was this?" Phil asked as Steve pulled the lasagna out of the oven.
"My mother's," Steve said. "I kept all her recipes after she passed, though I couldn't always afford the ingredients on my own. We're lucky I have a good memory though. I'm not quite sure where they ended up."
"We returned all of your personal affects," Phil said. "If it wasn't there, I'm not sure where they'd be. I'm sorry."
"It's alright. I learned not to place too high of a value in things during the war," Steve said.
The food was delicious, which Phil supposed it just figured Steve would be good at cooking too. It wasn't fair, really, especially when the man was so humble. Steve insisted he keep the leftovers, which Phil definitely was not going to complain about. Living on his own, he had taken most of his meals either in the SHIELD cafeteria, or microwavable food in his apartment.
"Maybe all I need to truly recover is good food," Phil said as they returned to the couch in front of the television.
Steve wrapped a firm arm around his shoulders and Phil gratefully fell into it. He was passed his anxiety for now, but it still helped to still have Steve close, a protecting presence. It wasn't like he could die when Captain Freaking America was holding onto him.
"I wanted to say thank you by the way," Steve said.
Phil pulled back, confused. "Why? I haven't done much of anything. In fact you've just done things for me all day."
Steve blushed and then ducked his head to press their forehead together. "I mean just for treating me like a human. I...sometimes don't feel like that around the others. I know you and I had a bit of a weird start but...I feel like I don't have to worry about messing up in front of you. You seem to keep thinking I'm perfect no matter what."
"Of course I think you're perfect," Phil said. "Just because someone has flaws or messes up doesn't mean they've become less perfect."
"Perfection in the flaws?" Steve mused, lips crooking up.
"Exactly," Phil said.
-.-
Natasha rung out a few more droplets of water from her hair onto the towel spread out behind her on the bed. Bobbie sat on the other bed wrapped in a towel with another around her blonde hair.
"So. You're working with Wade Wilson. What kinda mission do they got you on?" Bobbie asked, folding one leg under herself and looking over at Natasha
"No mission," Natasha said, looking down at her lap. "I quit. I resigned from SHIELD."
"What? Are you crazy?" Bobbie asked. "What happened? Are you and Clint still okay?"
"We're fine," Natasha said. "But SHIELD has done something unforgivable to me. I can't stay with them."
Bobbie shook her head, staring at the opposite wall. "God that's still an awful choice Natasha. They're going to hunt you down eventually."
"Like they'll catch me," Natasha said. "Look Bobbie. I've had to leave deadly organizations before. SHIELD isn't any different."
"But we're you're friends. Well, sort of, but regardless of how we feel about each other, Clint's your lover or whatever the hell you two are," Bobbie said. "What if they send him after you, or me? Or someone else you care about? What then?"
"I've thought it all through, Bobbie," Natasha said. "I know the pros and cons and whatever I do next, I can't go back to SHIELD. I went to SHIELD to get away from secrets like the ones they were holding. They betrayed the trust I gave them."
"Must've been pretty bad," Bobbie said. "And I don't wanna know because I'm already going to have to put in my report that I met up with you. And I'll have to mention the man singing in the shower too."
"Yeah..." Natasha shook her head. "I'm not sure this was the wisest choice. Teaming up with Wade I mean. It was kind of a trial run but...things are a bit too out of control for me."
"You fought an army of aliens in the middle of New York City. How is this more out of control?" Bobbie asked with a short laugh.
"I knew what I was getting into then. For the most part at least," Natasha said. "So...I get that you have to put it in your report but maybe put in a good word for me?"
"I'll do what I can," Bobbie said. "But I'm just an agent."
"I know," Natasha said, flopping back on the bed. "I have to do what's right for me though."
"I just hope you know what you're doing," Bobbie said.
"Yeah. Me too."