"All good things come to an end, Phil," Barton said, folding his arms over his chest as the two considered the map spread out on Lola's hood. "There's just too many of them for you to contact on your own."
Coulson, stripped down to his shirtsleeves, and wiped a handkerchief across the back of his neck as the sun beat down on them. They were parked next to a picnic table at the only form of shelter for miles: a gas station with a single bored attendant, who was currently asleep on a stool next to the register inside the attached convenience store.
"I know, but… I've gotten used to having you here to watch my back," Coulson admitted. "It has become comfortable."
"Then it is definitely time for me to go. Besides, you've got a great team, Phil, and I wouldn't leave now if I didn't think that they could protect you from yourself."
Coulson chuckled as he folded up the map and handed it over. Barton took a swig from his thermos, savoring these last few moments.
"Hot water and lemon slices again?" Coulson asked.
"When given the chance…," Barton said, shrugging one shoulder. "It helps reduce the puffiness under my eyes. Puffy eyes and archery don't mix. You should try it sometime, Phil, you might even be able to convince May that you've slept recently."
Coulson took the thermos from his hand and sniffed at the contents.
"It smells like hot lemonade."
"And it tastes like it, too."
Coulson took a sip and made a face, but swallowed a gulp of the hot beverage.
"It's decided then; I'll start with the last known addresses of all of our former operatives. Hartley is my first target; she kept her distance. It might have been paranoia, but in retrospect, she might have had this figured out long ago."
Barton took a large bite out of the sandwich Skye had made for their trip. It was healthy, bean sprouts, avocado spread, cucumbers, and kale and most likely it would be the last good thing he ate in the coming days. He let every mouthful linger. Coulson had only been able to front him a thousand dollars and it was too soon to hit Stark up for more cash.
"She's a good operative and she's used to working in the shadows. She'll be a good asset if you can find her."
"Oh, I'll find her, but whether I can convince her once I do… Chips?" Coulson offered the small opened plastic sandwich bag to Barton who shoved his hand in and came out with a handful of colorful chips.
"Skye is a treasure. Who else do you know who would make potato chips from scratch?" Barton asked. "But don't go into this with a pessimistic attitude. You convinced five of the most lethal people on the planet and a god from another one to join together, I think one mere mortal won't be so hard for you."
"And then there's you. Where will you go first?"
"My list is just as long, but you're right. After the incident with the helicarriers, we can't rely on six people to be able to respond at a moments notice. Steve and Tasha handled it, but what about next time? I don't know, I guess I'll go East and work my way back to the Pyms, picking up as many recruits as I can along the way."
"The teenager in Forest Hills first?"
Barton nodded. "He's the youngest. I'll get to him before HYDRA. I can hop a bus to Queens once I hitchhike into town. It's as good a place to start as any."
"Having a plan makes the fluttering in my chest quiet down a bit, but those jitters will come back once I'm standing face to face with a someone who's walked away from S.H.I.E.L.D. and - "
"Jitters keep you alive, Phil, remember that."
Coulson just nodded as the two finished up the last bit of their lunch. Coulson gathered up the empty bags, while Barton stowed his now empty thermos into his backpack and then hefted the whole thing, quiver included, onto his back.
"Fitz and Simmons are coming back to you at the end of the week?"
"That's the plan. Fitz was cleared for duty again, but Simmons says we're going to need a lot of patience as he recovers."
"Good thing you've got that in large supplies - that's the only thing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s got in large supply now."
"It's rough going from having all the resources in the world to what we can scrounge out from the couch cushions, but if you need anything, contact me and I'll do the best I can for you."
"Pop the trunk, Lola," Barton said and the car's trunk opened silently. "Gah, I'm gonna miss this car."
"She's a damn fine ally," Coulson agreed.
From the trunk, Barton retrieved his new toy. His old bow would be waiting for him, safe and sound back in his room at the Hub, but now it was time to form a new bond with this beauty. He ran his hand along the curve of the case, painted black and purple to match the bow inside.
"At least he didn't paint it red and gold," Couslon said as he watched Barton admire the work. "What have you renamed it?"
"I haven't yet. I don't know her well enough, but I'm hoping she'll tell me her name before the end of the journey." He put the case over one shoulder and then Lola closed the trunk.
"You're sure you don't need a ride into town?" Coulson asked one last time.
"Nope, I got this man and you've got a plane to catch."
"Don't remind me. I can't recall the last time I've had to fly coach," he said, stifling a laugh and turning it into a cough.
Coulson stared at Barton for a moment and then held out his hand.
Barton smirked, grabbed Coulson's hand and used it pull him into a quick bear hug that last only a second.
"If I get my first recruit before you, you owe me a hundred bucks, don't forget."
"And if I get mine before you, you've got to sign all my Hawkeye memorabilia."
"The race is on and the clock is ticking," Barton said, as he turned and walk toward the road leading to town.
"Be careful, Clint," Coulson called after him. Barton raised one hand, never looking back, and waved.
When Coulson turned back to Lola, the door was open and waiting for him. He slid into the seat and the engined purred to life.
"Alright, darling, let's get going."
