Phil spent the better part of the next week buried in paperwork. The few moments he had to himself, he spent researching, trying to understand Loki's motives. Which was never his favorite activity. Loki was so crazy that even a few minutes trying to think like him made Phil want to kill someone. Which would be fine if certain Avengers took the hint to leave him alone. Unfortunately, Barton was even more annoying in his bird form than he had ever been as a person.

"What'cha doing?" Barton was currently swooping and diving around Phil's office, creating an obstacle course out of chair legs and lamps. It was distracting, and not just because Phil's heart clenched every time Barton tried to see how close he could dive towards the floor without actually hitting. It had taken a few days for Phil to get used to hearing Barton's voice distorted by the electronic translator and with the quiet chittering tone behind it.

"I am working, Barton."

"You're always working." Barton whined. Phil sighed, closing the file he was reviewing. That asset had turned out to be a dead end. He threw the pile aside and picked up the next one in a pile. "Be more specific."

"I am currently going through the list of assets who have information on magical transformations. I'd like to know exactly how long I'm going to be on bird-sitting duty."

"Oh." Barton's wings slowed and he glided down until he was perched atop Phil's computer. The royal blue of his feathers looking even more sharp in the fluorescent lighting. Phil wasn't sure how he knew that it perfectly matched Barton's eye color. Or why he found it so stunning. "Any news on how long I'll have wings?"

"Getting tired of it already?"

"Fuck no! But if they know I'm not turning back for another week or something then they'll be no reason to keep low."

Phil groaned. Of course that's what Barton would think of. "The ten foot rule is still in effect."

"I know." Phil was certain Barton was trying to roll his eyes. The movement didn't work so well. "What's that?" Barton had shifted around and was looking down at the web page Phil had up on his screen.

"Information on Passenger Pigeons. It's the type of pigeon Steve was turned into." He explained. "After seeing how well the Kingfisher fit your personality I figured it couldn't hurt to look at what Steve was turned into."

"How am I like a Kingfisher? And how is Steve Captain fucking America, like a pigeon?"

Phil gave a small laugh. Yeah, it sounded ridiculous, but the more he learned about both birds the more it made sense. He was certain now that Loki had chosen the bird types specifically. Even if Phil was still no closer to figuring out why. "Kingfishers are snipers. They find a perch and don't move until they have zeroed in on a target."

"I guess that sounds a bit familiar." Barton smirked (well, what Phil had learned was his bird-attempt at a smirk).

"They also can make quite a racket when they want to."

"Well, that's not me at all."

"Right. But the Passenger Pigeon is what's really interesting." Barton shifted, showing his interest. "Most people think of pigeons as just rats with wings."

"Yeah. Cause they are."

"But they're not. They're one of the strongest and most agile birds. They are extremely adaptable and have excellent memories. They remember every face they see and who treated them well versus who treated them ill. They were used in the wars to carry messages because the enemy underestimated them."

"Okay, so not so stupid, and maybe a bit Steve-like."

"But that's nothing compared to the fact that he's a Passenger Pigeon."

"Which is important why?"

"Because they went extinct. Even as a bird, Rogers is a man out of his time."

-;-

Clint's least favorite part about life as a bird: the food. He loved seafood as much as the next person, but having fish for every meal got old fast. But he put up with it. He figured it was a fair trade for being able to fly. Even if he had a height limit. For now. He was still waiting for a chance to soar higher and really spread his wings. Unfortunately, Jarvis knew about the ten foot rule and took it very seriously. Clint had been zapped out of the air more than once.

So, instead, Clint spent most of his time racing Steve and challenging him to obstacle courses. Coulson had been right about the agility thing. Once Steve got used to his wings he was able to outmaneuver Clint with ease. But Clint was still more natural at it. When Steve flew, there was an awkwardness to it. Like he had to consciously think about each movement, each twitch of his wings, each shift in his feathers. Just watching him made Clint's skin crawl.

Clint and Steve spent most of their time together, and Clint found himself warming up to the man with each passing day. He was more adventurous than Clint had expected, and could talk for hours if given the chance. It was Steve who convinced Jarvis to let up on the ten foot rule for an hour, just in the living room. Which Jarvis only agreed to after Bruce helpfully scattered pillows and couch cushions from all over the house on every square inch of the floor before disappearing back into his lab. They were too thin to do much if either Steve or Clint fell from ceiling height, but they would be enough to stop them from cracking their skulls on the floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Clint nearly fell out of the air as Coulson's voice echoed around the room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of movement; Steve had actually dropped slightly.

"It's called an obstacle course. I thought that would be obvious." Clint used the sarcasm as a defense, recognizing the anger in Coulson's level voice. He dove through another of the holographic hoops that Jarvis had placed strategically around the room. Doing his best to not look like a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar.

"Perhaps you can explain to me, Captain Rogers, why you are both breaking the only rule set to you?"

Steve perched on the back of the chair nearest Coulson, who hadn't moved from the doorway. He dropped his head while straightening his back, managing to look both ashamed and at attention. Which was damn impressive. He'd have to teach Clint that. "I was under the impression that the rule existed to prevent us from coming to harm? I – "

"That is exactly why it exists." Coulson interrupted. And damn, he must be pissed if he was acting like this to Captain America. His fucking hero. "Either of you could regain your human form at any time. It would be rather inconvenient for SHIELD to try and replace either of you because you ended up splattered on the ground because you wanted to see how high you could fly." Coulson's voice never changed, staying flat and steady, but the anger behind it was etched into his face.

"If you'll notice, the room has been padded to prevent any such splattering, sir." Steve snapped.

Coulson's jaw tightened and the vein in his neck started throbbing. Clint knew what that meant. And he wasn't going to let Steve have to deal with that. Time to intervene before either did something they'd regret. Clint swooped down, brushing his outstretched wing against the back of Coulson's head (because he couldn't help but be an ass) and landed next to Steve. "I got this." He whispered.

Steve just looked at him, unmoving. "No. This was a completely safe and justified – "

"Dude." Clint nudged him. "Shut up and go. I got this." Steve still didn't move, so Clint threw his body against him, wishing he had hands so that he could shove him out of the room. "Trust me." Steve sighed and cast one last look from Clint to Coulson and back before finally unfolding his wings and gliding silently from the room.

Once he was gone, Clint turned to face Coulson, who had watched their exchange silently. His eyebrows were drawn together slightly; showing just a hint of confusion intermixed with his anger. Clint didn't explain himself. Steve wasn't used to getting a dressing down; Clint was. Plus, Clint would be damned if he was going to sit by and let anything ruin Steve and Coulson's friendship.

"Who did this?" Coulson nodded to the pillows and cushions strewn around the room.

"I'm not saying."

"You two couldn't have done it one your own. So fess up. Or I'll simply go through Jarvis' security footage."

"That wouldn't be smart."

"Making sure you all obey the rules put in place to keep you alive is very high on my list of smart things."

"And you and I both know that it'd take a lot more than a twenty foot fall to kill me or Steve. Even if the switch somehow knocked us unconscious or paralyzed, the cushions would be enough to limit injuries to a few broken bones."

Coulson growled. Actually growled. And Clint felt his jaw, well beak, drop in shock. "That is still an unacceptable risk." Coulson ground out the words through clenched teeth.

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

Coulson's lips twitched. But whatever he was about to say would remain a mystery as right then Coulson's phone buzzed. Half a second later the alarm kicked up throughout the house. "We'll continue this later." Coulson spun on his heel and walked from the room, throwing over his shoulder. "And you are to enforce the ten foot rule at all times Jarvis."

Steve rejoined Clint the moment Phil was gone. Neither of them moved to try and join the others. They had both been put on the bench for however long they were feathered. "Why did you do that?" Steve asked.

"Because I'm used to Coulson yelling at me for screwing up. I know how to handle it."

"I could have handled it." Steve said seriously, like maybe he was afraid that Clint thought he was weak. Which, fucking hell, he was Captain America; the word weak ran away in fear of him.

"Yeah, but like I said, used to it." Clint was sure that his voice gave away too much of his bitterness but he didn't care.

"He was only upset because he was worried, you know."

"Yeah," Clint huffed past the stab of jealousy he refused to acknowledge. "Can't have anything to his precious Captain America." Clint flew from the room, needing to get to the safety and solitude of his room.

-;-

Phil could barely focus on trying to keep the three giant orange lizards from trying to tear up Central Park. His mind kept going back over his conversation with Barton. Phil knew he had overreacted. But seeing Clint hovering twenty feet in the air over a hard, solid, unforgiving floor, well, his calm may have slipped just a little. He'd have to apologize to Steve when he saw him next.

It took longer than it should have to bring down the lizards. They had some sort of armor that protected them from anything less than rocket launchers, which left the streets in quite a state. The property damage bills were going to be astounding. Phil wasn't looking forward to dealing with that paperwork. So it was well after midnight by the time Phil and the rest of the Avengers trudged into SHIELD Medical.

Phil was fine, just a few cuts and bruises; he didn't even need any stitches. But the others weren't as lucky. Tony had a concussion, again, and a few bruised ribs. Natasha was nursing a sprained ankle and Thor had a nasty wound in one arm where one of the lizards had bitten him. Hulk was still out on the streets, helping with the heavy lifting to clear away some of the debris.

Once he saw that everyone was behaving and submitting to the medical attention, Phil turned to leave. The sooner he got started on the mission reports, the better. He'd just have to make sure to grab a cup of coffee on his way to his office so he didn't fall asleep at his desk again.

"Agent Coulson." A nurse Phil didn't recognize jogged over to him.

"Which one is it?" Phil asked, expecting it to be Stark or Natasha. His money was on Natasha. Sprains usually weren't enough to keep her side-lined for long.

"It's Captain Rogers, sir."

Phil's heart slammed against his ribs. He struggled to keep his face steady but he couldn't keep his hand from shaking slightly. He clenched it into a fist and crossed his arms, burying his hand behind his elbow. "What happened?" Phil would dismantle Jarvis wire by wire if he'd allowed them to fly too high again.

"Don't worry, sir. He's fine. We just needed to run a few tests now that he's back to human again."

"The spell wore off?"

"Yes. About an hour ago. We would have called you but we knew you were busy and there was no immediate cause for concern."

"And Barton?"

"Still in bird form, as far as we know."

Phil nodded and fell into step behind the nurse. It made sense for Steve to transform back first. He had only been in the smoke for a few minutes while Barton had been in there for nearly half an hour. And Steve's accelerated healing might have affected the magic as well.

"Captain, how are you feeling?" Phil nodded to dismiss the nurse, who left him and Steve alone.

"Much better now that I have hands again." Steve's smile was strained. It sounded off alarm bells in Phil's head. He grabbed the chart from the end of the bed, flipping through it. From what he could understand, Rogers was in perfect health. So the grimace wasn't from pain. "Look, Coulson. About earlier."

Phil held up a hand to silence Steve. "It's fine, Rogers."

"No, Coulson, I'm sorry. You asked me to watch Barton, and I didn't."

"You and I both know that Barton was never going to stick to that rule. At least you made sure he went about it in a – rational – way."

"But it was my idea."

"Rogers." Phil narrowed his eyes and Steve fell silent. "It is fine. I overreacted. Now, would you mind debriefing me on the transforming-back-to-human part of today?"

When Steve finished recounting what he'd been through while the rest of the team was in the field, Phil crossed his arms. This was interesting, but not really helpful. If anything, it could cause more problems. "So, fifteen minutes between the first sign and the actual switch to human?"

"Yes." Steve nodded. "Plenty of time to stop flying and get my feet on the ground."

"No." Phil shook his head, knowing where Steve was headed.

"Sir, there is no reason to keep him restrained to ten feet. Fifteen minutes is more than enough warning to get to safety." Steve was using his Captain America tone. "The man is going stir-crazy. It's been ten days. I've never seen him confined to the Tower for so long. Just let him get a chance to get out once in a while."

"No. I know Barton. Give him an inch and he'll take a mile." Phil was struggling to not give in to Steve. Phil was trained to follow orders, and when Captain America gave orders, it was damn near impossible not to listen. "Just because it took you 15 minutes to switch doesn't mean it will for him. It's best to keep him grounded. We can't risk anything happening to him."

Phil turned to leave, ending the conversation.

"Coulson, please. He could be stuck like that for who knows how long." Steve was begging, and damn it all if that wasn't even harder to say no to.

"Does Barton know how long it took?"

"No, but – "

"Then you are not to tell him. Or any of the others. As of this moment, that information is classified. Am I understood?" Phil glanced over his shoulder long enough to see Steve sigh but give one curt nod. Then Phil strode from the room.

;;;

Phil spent the next week buried in his office at SHIELD. It was the massive pile of paperwork that was keeping him tethered to his desk. That was most definitely the reason he left the Tower before anyone else was up and came home late after everyone else was asleep. He wasn't hiding. Phil Coulson didn't hide. But he also knew his limits. And he knew that the combined effect of Steve's puppy dog eyes along with being in Barton's company would be more than he could handle.

So he worked his fingers to the bone. Avoiding the entire team, which was turning out to be quite a refresher of his skills. Natasha was being extremely persistent. She knew Phil was hiding something and she was planning on finding out what. She made that much clear in the note she'd left stabbed onto his desk.

But this was for Barton's own protection. The man would be soaring out over the city right now, trying to see how high he could fly, if he thought he would have a 15 minute warning. This was the only way Phil could think of to keep him safe.

Phil's cell phone rang. It was from Tony, so he ignored it. He could handle Stark just fine, even on the worst of days, but that didn't mean he wanted to. But the phone kept ringing no matter how many times Phil pressed the Ignore button. Hell, he swore the ringing was just getting louder. No, he was certain it was getting louder. Damn StarkTech.

"What do you want, Stark?" Phil put enough ice in his voice that he could almost hear Stark recoiling from it.

"Sorry to bother you, but quick question."

Tony sounded hesitant, which never boded well. "What did you do now?"

"Nothing." Which sounded way too defensive. "We were just wondering if Barton is with you."

"I'm sorry?" Phil's voice came out a whisper. He was impressed he'd even managed that. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room.

"It's just, we can't find him and Jarvis says he's not in the Tower."

"How long has he been missing?"

"We don't know that he's missing for sure. Nat said he could just be – "

"Stark."

"According to Jarvis, the last time he was for sure in the Tower was last night around 8." Phil's eyes darted to the clock. It was nearly midnight. Barton had been gone for 28 hours. Normally Phil wouldn't be worried, Barton had proven he more than capable of handling himself. But that had been as a human. Being a bird was completely different. The list of things that could kill him was longer than Phil cared to imagine.