2. Through the circle, fast and slow

"Well," Clint stirred sugar into his fresh cup of coffee. "I could tell you about my first long term undercover mission, that one was crazy."

"Monty Python crazy or Saw crazy?" Darcy asked.

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other," Clint replied, making a face. "I was sent in to track down an 0-8-4 in Baghdad and I had to go undercover as an Army Staff Sergeant."

"You?" she gave him a face that was part euphoria and part disbelief.

"Yeah, I know," he nodded in agreement. "Anyway, my cover put me in charge of a three man bomb disposal team and basically we wandered around the desert looking for IED's to disable. Now these guys they have me in charge of are lifers and they're good at what they do. And right away, they don't like me, and it doesn't help that, because I'm looking for tech that's not your run of the mill IED, they really don't like some of my methods. We had kind of a close call and they go to their CO, but the CO knows who I am and why I'm really there so he doesn't do anything about it. So one day we're coming back to base and there's a car by the side of the road… and why are you looking at me like that?"

"Clint, you're describing The Hurt Locker," She said with a frown.

"Okay," he blinked slowly, his brow furrowing.

"You're pissing me off," Darcy observed, though she didn't sound as put out as she might have.

"I do that," he said, resigned.

"Is that how Phil kept from killing you when you first signed on?" She asked, stifling a snicker. "They just sent you out on your own so no one had to deal with you?"

"Oh, hell no," Clint shook his head, chuckling. "Phil wasn't even my SO at first."

"Really?"

"He was only level 5 at the time," Clint said. "He got the recruitment bonus for signing me up which gave us both an interesting reputation, let me tell you. I did a month of procedural certifications and then they put me with this senior field agent named Phillips. Man, that guy was a first class roll of toilet paper. We locked horns from day one. We'd just wrapped up our fourth op, which went completely sideways because he wasn't paying attention, and he stormed into Fury's office in a rage."

"He's an insubordinate little ass!"

"It's a really spectacular ass though," Agent Melinda May muttered under her breath so soft that only Phil could hear. He very deliberately shifted his shoulders, chewing on his tongue to keep from laughing. Standing in Fury's office and not laughing was a skill set Phil had had a lot of experience perfecting.

"Phillips," Nick Fury said, looking decidedly irritated. "I'm going to say this again and this time I want you to hear all the words in the sentence in the correct order; Specialists are not regular Agents, they are not regular Agents for a reason. They specialize in things, and sometimes those things are shooting targets from a mile out, and sometimes those things are being an irritating little shit and both of those skills have value. It's your job to make sure the Specialist gets the job done, how they do it is not something that SHIELD gives a good god damn about."

"You can deny my transfer," Phillips snapped. "And you can send me out in the field with that idiot. But you can't force me to be his SO." He tossed a handful of forms onto Fury's desk.

"Give your charity case to someone more desperate, I'm out." Phillips turned on his heel, storming out of the office and slamming the door behind him. Goose, who had been napping in his cat bed in the corner, looked up with a disapproving frown.

"What a little bitch," Sr. Agent Dorothea Triplett said with a sigh as she leaned comfortably back into the sofa along the wall. "His granddaddy would bend him over his knee if he was still alive."

"That apple sure rolled away from the tree," Fury nodded in agreement, rubbing his eyes. Goose leapt onto the desk, swiping at the pile of paperwork as if it had personally offended him and Fury reached out to scratch his ears. Agent Triplett tilted her head, an almost maternal expression lighting on her face.

"So how's that circus sniper working out for you, Nick?" she asked sweetly. Fury threw her a bitter look, his eyes narrowed. Senior Agent Triplett was absolutely the only person on the planet who got away with calling him Nick. The pool had odds in favor that Fury's mother called him Nick, but Phil wasn't taking that action based on the way Fury glared at Triplett every time she said his name.

"I have not forgot about the two of you," Fury stated, leveling a warning finger at Melinda and Phil. "So don't think I'm finished with you." both of them pasted on their most innocent expressions as Fury turned back to the Senior Agent.

"What do you want me to say?" He snapped. "That you were right?"

"Not every great talent belongs in SHIELD," she said gently. "Barton's checkered past aside, he seems like a good kid. But maybe your hawk's been untethered too long to take to a leash."

"Aw, shit," Melinda grumbled, keeping her voice at a bare whisper. "Hartley's going to win the damn pool"

"They're not going to retire Barton," Phil hissed back, gritting his teeth. "Chet's a lousy handler, even you say so."

"Well if you think I'm saying so to Fury you've got another thing coming," She murmured back. "I'm not sticking my neck out for Barton, I like my job, I'm in enough trouble already for that stupid stunt you pulled. I mean, we'd all have died if you hadn't pulled it, and it was slightly less stupid than the one Barton pulled, but yeah, not losing my job for either of you."

"It's not my fault and it's not Barton's either." Phil insisted. "And neither one of us would have had to do something stupid to keep us all alive if Barton just had an SO who would listen to him when he says something's off."

"Too bad you're not level six," She huffed. "No, no Phil, do not. You and your superhero fetish. Stay out of it!"

"You're probably right," Fury said, resigned.

"I usually am," Triplett replied with a soft smile.

"Just, in light of everything I was hoping," His voice trailed off and he looked at Goose who was very meticulously washing between his toes.

"I'll take on Barton," Phil blurted before he could stop himself. He shifted away quickly so May couldn't trod on his foot. Fury turned to stare at him blankly.

"You're right ma'am," Phil continued, squaring his shoulders. "Hawkeye's never going to take to being tethered. I used to go Hawking with my grandfather in Wisconsin. The best hawk he had, my grandfather never tied her down, she came every time he called. She trusted him, because he trusted her."

"I want you to know how pissed at you I am right now," Fury stated, leveling a finger in Phil's direction. "And I'm not likely to be un-pissed any time in your near future."

"Coulson, isn't it?" Agent Triplett asked with a considering gaze

"No," Fury stated, his eyes narrowing menacingly at her. They stared each other down for a long moment until finally Fury let out a string of expletives under his breath.

"Don't think this makes up for that shit you pulled," Fury snapped, turning back on Phil once more. "I'm still considering sending you to McMurdo. You or your bird on a wire piss me off again and I'm solving my problems by shipping you both there."

"Absolutely sir," Phil replied, but he was barely stifling a grin.

"Get the hell out of my office!" Fury snapped. Phil turned on his heel heading for the door with Melinda close behind. "And go collect Barton, you'll have your level 6 paperwork the end of the day!"

"Hawking?" Melinda asked, trailing after him with her most incredulous expression. "Really?"

"I thought it played well," Phil replied, straightening his spine and adjusting his tie as they boarded the lift.

"Your grandfather is an actuary," May said, leaning back against the wall as Phil punched the button for the residential level. "He's never even seen the outdoors."

"Just because his career-"

"I've met him he's the most sublimely boring person who's ever lived," Melinda interrupted him. "And that's not an insult, I want you to know how relaxing I find that man. It's rare I can spend time with someone and not keep my guard up. Your grandfather has all the aggressive tendencies of a warm blanket."

"Well what Fury doesn't know won't hurt me," Phil replied, heading purposefully down the hall as soon as the doors opened.

"Fury's met your grandfather too," she said. Phil paused his steps, turning to look at her.

"When?"

"At academy graduation," Melinda replied, her smile mocking. Phil frowned.

"I sort of forgot granddad was there," he admitted, continuing down the corridor and turning left at the last hallway.

"That's because he's as riveting as cold toast," she said.

"Well Fury didn't call me on it," Phil pointed out. "He probably forgot my grandfather was there too."

"This is a fiasco I'm going to miss you so much when you're gone," May stated practically. "Not so much that I won't be glad that I'm off the hook for all your harebrained schemes. But I am going to miss you. On the plus side I'll probably never be in trouble again, so there's that to look forward to."

"You keep telling yourself that," he gave her a smile as they continued down the hall, holding out his hand. "I did tell you he wasn't going to reprimand us."

"You are a weasel and an ass," Melinda replied, but she fished a note out of her pocket, slapping it in his palm.

"It's a great ass though," Phil said.

"Keep dreaming, Phil." She followed him to the very end of the hall, past the utility room to a door marked "Laundry/Vending" and Phil turned narrowed eyes on her as his hand grasped hold of the door latch.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Oh I wouldn't miss this," Melinda replied with a feral grin. "I can't wait to find out how Barton takes it when you tell him you used him to get promoted to level 6." She leaned into the wall beside the door, an expectant look on her face as Phil drew in a breath as if to say something nasty but she waved him on, folding her arms over her chest with smug satisfaction. He frowned, opening the door and squaring his shoulders just a fraction later than he probably should have.

"Oh hey, Coulson," Hawkeye didn't turn away from the pinball machine shoved into the corner of the tiny room between the beat up washer and dryer and the laundry sink, but that didn't seem to deter him from seeing over his shoulder. There was a duffel bag at his feet, one purple shirt bulging out from the zipper. "Fury send you to escort your bad idea off the grounds?"

The pinball machine had turned up in the laundry and vending room about two weeks after Barton had, no one was entirely sure how it had arrived completely under the radar along with a large, battered sofa that was some horrific shade between lilac and cornflower and an impressively large TV that was now balanced on top of the two vending machines near the door. SHIELD had a very reliable laundry service, but the New York offices had existed for years before that, years when most of the field staff had used the ancient and rusting machines in the corner of the laundry and vending room to wash the blood and hazardous chemicals out of their underwear on a regular basis. Phil didn't like to think about what was probably incubating in that washing machine, just waiting for sentience and it's opportunity to take over the whole agency. He was almost equally suspicious of the vending machines, in no small part because of the blearily glowing buttons marked "Tab" and "Slice". Phil very carefully edged his way around the battered sofa so that he was sure he was in Barton's line of sight but Barton didn't turn. The pinball machine gave off the unmistakable trill of Jackpot.

"Phillips resigned as your SO," Phil said, wincing at how the words sounded.

"Figured that," Barton replied.

"I," Phil drew in another unsteady breath. "offered to replace him." Hawkeye didn't tense, not ever, but a stillness came over him, the same one Phil had seen when the archer would draw back his bow, sighting a target and waiting, holding until the perfect moment.

"I underestimated you, Coulson," Barton said his expression unperturbed. "I didn't honestly think you were cut-throat enough for this line of work. Congratulations on your promotion. Sir."

"It's not like that," Phil insisted, throwing caution to the wind and taking a step closer to the washing machine so that Barton would have a clear view of his face. "You're good, you could be one of the best. But you're never going to be that with Chet Phillips in your ear. He's got no improvisational skills and he likes the regs too much." Hawkeye blinked twice before turning his head to stare at Coulson blankly.

"What?" Phil asked cautiously.

"You just described yourself," Barton replied. Across the room May let out a snort that she muffled in her fist when Phil turned his ice cold glare on her.

"But hey!" Hawkeye said, cheerfully sweeping his duffle off the floor and hoisting it over his shoulder. "I still got a bunk and those three squares a day for at least a little while longer, so bonus there." He dug two quarters out of his pocket and tossed them, one after the other at the vending machine. The machine clinked as the quarters fell into the coin slot and Barton swept a rubber ball out of the soap dish at the laundry sink, heaving it at the buttons. The vending machine rattled as Barton crossed the room and he retrieved his RC Cola.

"I'm going to go see if that Great Dental can't fix the tooth I just broke," Barton added, popping his soda with a challenging glare. "See you around. Sir."

"Thanks for the save out there, Hawkeye," Melinda said with a genuine smile as he passed her.

"Oh," Barton paused, ducking his head as if he were embarrassed. "Sure, any time May." He scuttled out the door and she watched him go for a long moment.

"Are you, like, trying to build some kind of rapport with him by being honest or are you just that stupid?" She finally asked, grinning merrily. Phil gritted his teeth, he found that look really irritating and sometimes he wished she'd just stop.

"He has to trust me," Phil snapped.

"He has to trust the guy who just used him to worm his way into a promotion?" May rolled her eyes. "I'm honestly beginning to wonder why I trust you."

"Okay you know that's not what happened!" Phil rounded on her angrily. "I just hung my whole career on this, you think Fury was joking about McMurdo? Because I don't! If I'm lucky I'm going to be an eskimo if this goes south. If I'm lucky."

"You have zero luck." May replied, her brow furrowed in a rarely serious expression. "And you know what? Barton doesn't have any either. In fact he has negative luck. I think he spit on a gypsy fortune teller while he was in the circus. And now the two of you are the flavor of the month."

"He really is amazing," Phil said in a small voice. "Really. He is Melinda, you didn't see it. He jumped off a building and he… We'd both be dead if he hadn't and it's like he didn't even think about the fact that he was risking his life. It was the most incredible thing I've ever seen and he deserves to be here. He deserves to be one of the best we have. He doesn't deserve to be passed over because nobody realizes what he can be."

"Oh my god you and your comic book heroes." May groaned, falling over onto the sofa and splaying out all her limbs.

"Why are we even friends?" Phil demanded with a frown.

"We're friends because we were the two biggest misfits in proby training," she replied, digging around under the sofa cushions with one hand until she found the remote. She hit the button and the TV slowly flickered to life as she began surfing through a truly ridiculous number of channels that were definitely not part of the the standard cable package in the regular staff rec rooms.

"Barton doesn't have a Melinda May to back him up," Phil pointed out as she settled in to watch the Joy Luck Club on Showtime.

"You're right; Why are we friends?" She asked. Phil gritted his teeth, storming out of the laundry room and into the hall, his steps skidding to a halt just outside the door where Goose was sitting in the middle of the corridor, his tail twitching and his eyes narrowed in Phil's direction. Phil glanced around cautiously a moment but as always the corridor was empty.

"It's not my fault your cat-dad almost fired Hawkeye," he hissed quietly at the… whatever it was. Phil wasn't cleared to know, he just knew, despite appearances, it wasn't a cat. Goose considered him a moment longer before stretching with a bored yawn and padding regally away in the direction of Fury's office.

"I am in so much trouble," Phil sighed.

"Wait, wait," Darcy held up one hand, her grin unnaturally wide. "I just need a moment to process this. Agent ruthlessly used you to get a promotion."

"In his defense, he was almost as young and dumb as I was at the time," Clint replied.

"This is a game changer," she declared, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "Hawkeye and Agent Coulson: certified failures at Responsible Adulting."

"Adult is not a verb," Clint insisted, shaking his head. "and everyone's a hot mess in their twenties."

"This puts the interest rate on my student loans in an all new perspective."

"I thought Tony paid off your student loans," he replied with a frown.

"Oh he did," Darcy nodded. "but then he bitched for over a week about my interest rate and I still kind of feel bad about it." Clint shook his head.

"Sometimes you really do remind me of Phil," he said.

"Really?" she asked, her face lighting up. She paused, her brow furrowing. "Is that an insult or a compliment?"

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other."

"So how long did you two hate each other?" she asked, using a spoon to eat the foam off the top of her latte.

"About another six months," Clint replied with a shrug. "It was so insane. In the field we were a perfect team. We got the job done, no one died, May's injury rate went way down, after our fifth mission all three of us were fast tracking to the senior level. Out of the field it was a train wreck. Phil kept trying to get me on board with his team bonding routine, movies and take out, beer and burgers, that kind of thing."

"And you weren't having any of that?"

"With a big side of hell no," he nodded.

"Agents," the director of SHIELD stood behind her desk, her arms crossed over her chest. She turned to them, her face unreadable. "job well done."

"Thank you, Director Carter," Phil replied, tamping down on his smile. Melinda was not nearly so subtle as she stood beside him with her biggest smarmy grin. In the farthest corner of the room Barton only nodded his head in acknowledgment and Phil shot him a glare over his shoulder.

"It's nice to see the collateral damage at a minimum," Fury added, perusing the after action reports as he sprawled on Director Carter's sofa.

"We do our best," May replied. Phil elbowed her gently but Carter only ducked her head to mask her smile.

"I'm putting in a commendation for all three of you," she continued. "and a promotion for you, Agent Barton, to level three."

"Ma'am" Clint didn't shift from his corner and Phil gritted his teeth.

"I'd congratulate you, Barton," May said, with a teasing smile. "But this just means they'll be sending us out after increasingly weirder shit."

"No doubt," Director Carter agreed. "But before you all become intimately familiar with how appallingly bizarre the world can be, you're all on three days mandatory stand down. Get some rest, order take out, try not to think about work." The last one she directed at Phil and his cheeks colored slightly as May gave a nod and headed for the door while Barton peeled himself off the wall and loped after her. Phil shot him another glare and Clint flipped him off in reply, timing it so that neither Fury or the Director would see. He gritted his teeth as he turned the corner, glancing over toward the windows across from the reception desk that reflected the interior of the Director's office

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Coulson was saying. Clint froze, dropping into a crouch against the wall. He shifted back on his heels a few inches, angling for a better view of the reflection in the window. "He's a consummate professional in the field, the best I've ever worked with. I have no idea why he acts like that on base." Clint's lips turned up in a snarl. Not for the first time he wondered why he kept hanging on to this job.

"Well, Agent Coulson, it just so happens that I do," Director Carter replied. Clint frowned, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "He doesn't have a clear line of sight if he's standing in front of my desk."

"Ma'am?" Phil blinked at her blankly a long moment.

"It's kind of sweet, when you think about it." Director Carter continued, turning to Fury. "It's always the same spot, the only one in my office that not only covers all the sight lines but gives you the option to shield my desk."

"Deputy Director Keller isn't as big a fan of him as you are," Fury pointed out without looking up. "It'd be a shame if he had to take over for you."

"He does lack a sense of humor," Carter admitted before turning back to Phil. "As someone with a great deal of experience handling assets who rely extensively on unconventional skill sets, I'd suggest that you shift your focus to the end results and accept that the road to success might at times be rocky."

"Are we talking about Captain America?" Phil asked a bit breathlessly. Director Carter's expression didn't change but Fury very minutely shook his head in warning.

"People with exceptional skills generally acquire them from exceptional life experiences," Director Carter continued, eying Phil. "Exceptional people as young as Agent Barton rarely come by those skills voluntarily. If you want to know why he does the things he does you're either going to have to open your mind to seeing things through his eyes or rely on him to tell you, and both of those things require a certain measure of trust."

"I've tried," Phil said, sounding a little desperate. Clint had a momentary spike of satisfaction at that. "He's closed off, unresponsive, I don't know what else I'm supposed to do." Director Carter leaned into her desk on the palms of both hands.

"Try harder," she replied. She gave him a considering look before leaning back and settling into her desk chair. "Or don't. Resign yourself to the fact that you can't understand him and continue your exemplarily field record knowing that if you continue to work this well together you'll eventually both get yourselves promoted to level seven." Phil gave her a nod and turned to head for the door, he stopped half way there, turning back.

"Ma'am?" he asked cautiously. "Which would you do?"

"Both," Fury replied before she could answer. Carter gave a soft smile but didn't contradict him.

"Peggy Carter liked you," Darcy sing-songed, grinning at him. Clint smiled back, the faintest blush tinging his ears.

"She was amazing," he replied. "Best director SHIELD ever had. Even Fury thinks so."

"I thought she would have retired by the time you came along," Darcy observed. "What was she? Seventy something?"

"She retired the next year, she was seventy-seven," Clint replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "She was still field fit too. I didn't know it at the time but she only quit because her memory was starting to go a little, she was worried something vital would slip her mind and agents would get hurt. If it hadn't been for that she probably would have stayed on until she was eighty."

"That is so badass," Darcy said. Clint nodded in agreement. "So what did Phil do with that bit of advice?"

"No idea," Clint shrugged. "I was so pissed I spent the next three months hiding from him when we weren't actually working."

"Way to deal with your issues there, Barton," she said with a smirk.

"Hey no one ever accused me of being well adjusted."

Someone told me long ago
There's a calm before the storm
I know it's been comin' for some time
When it's over so they say
It'll rain a sunny day
I know shinin' down like water

John Cameron Fogerty - Have You Ever Seen the Rain