/ A Lot of Speculation \\\ 06 – Several Attempts

Phil lifted his hand to knock on Clint's door and then froze – the Avengers alarm blaring around him. The door in front of him opened and Clint took a step back.

"Phil?"

Phil awkwardly pointed up. "Avengers alarm."

Clint frowned at him but nodded and stepped out of the room. "You planning on collecting us all?"

"I was just passing when the alarm started. I'll meet you at the StarkJet."

"Nat's room is down the hallway to your left if you're looking to collect everyone."

Phil immediately turned to the right and ignored Clint's low chuckle behind him. He walked back to his rooms and got changed. When he got to the StarkJet no one was inside but Clint who stared at him for a moment.

"Where is everyone?" Phil asked the archer.

Clint shrugged. "Don't know, boss, weren't you collecting them?"

Phil had only a moment to look at Clint with exasperated judgement while he forced down his amusement before Steve strode into the plane. Then, like they had given up with the appearance of Captain America, the rest of the available Avengers appeared and smirked at Phil as they walked into the plane. Except for Tony who had the biggest grin on his face Phil had seen all week and then clapped Clint on the back.

"You got that vein on the side of his neck, 3000 points."

Phil's eyes flickered to Nat who looked suitably unimpressed, her eyes met his for a moment though and then flicked away. He turned to Tony and smiled – he could use this little titbit later. Phil turned away from Tony and pulled out his tablet, pulling up what S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about the situation. It was a hostage situation in Boston with enhanced perpetrators and the Avengers had been called in after three police had been injured and a different type of containment was needed.

The photos the next day were completely free of Hawkeye because Clint had been hit by the sonic wave that one of the women was using within minutes of landing and had slammed into the side of a building and was out for the rest of the fight. There was one of Phil in the middle of the clean-up though.

Phil couldn't say anything when Clint was recovering so he just went to the doughnut shop that Clint loved and bought the archer a baker's dozen of doughnuts in the strangest flavours he could choose then he bought himself six cinnamon doughnuts and knew Clint was going to steal half of them.

(_)(_)(_)

The week that Clint was ready to go back to work, Phil was dragged into S.H.I.E.L.D. by Nick for a departmental heads meeting in response to a U.N. proposal regarding oversight for the Avengers. Without the World Security Council, and their HYDRA ties, there wasn't international oversight of S.H.I.E.L.D. so the continued goodwill regarding the Avengers acting on foreign soil was diminishing at the same rate as most goodwill towards America. People liked the Avengers – they could understand that regardless of the property destruction, the result would be worse if there wasn't someone there to stand between the innocent people and those beings trying to wreak havoc.

Phil was tied up in meetings, both public and private, for over a month while S.H.I.E.L.D. and the UN hammered out an agreement for oversight without losing autonomy. Phil remained as anonymous as possible because he was not the face of S.H.I.E.L.D. and as much as he had become entwined with the Avengers his real skill was to be the person whispering intel into people's ears even if he could kill someone with his bare hands, a spoon, or some otherworldly power he liked to pretend wasn't real. Phil barely left his S.H.I.E.L.D. office, spending more time surrounded by paper and arcane international law than destruction and mayhem and a part of him revelled in it. This was something he loved doing, even if it gave him a headache on alternating days.

When he was finally able to go back to the Avengers tower, hopefully to sleep for at least a week, he couldn't get past the recreational rooms where Steve and Bucky were hunched over a newspaper (real paper one) and Nat was perched on a side table watching the elevator for him.

"Tasha."

"Phil," Nat said, unfolding herself and then stalking over to him. "You look tired."

"I am tired."

"Kitchen," she ordered and pointed past Steve and Bucky to the communal kitchen.

Phil didn't have the energy to argue with her and he knew that she would make him eat and he wouldn't need to open his fridge and deal with the spoiled food. She pushed him down onto a chair and then went to the fridge and pulled out a plate. She put it into the microwave and then sat down across from him.

"You're feeding me?" Phil said, his lips quirking.

"Don't get your hopes up," she said, "it isn't my varenyky."

Phil smiled and slumped a little into his chair. "Then I know you aren't bribing me."

"I haven't killed anyone I shouldn't have."

Phil chuckled slowly as the microwave dinged and Nat patted his wrist before standing and collecting his food. She perched on the other side of the table while he was looking down at the plate of schnitzel and vegetables – it had been cooked by Clint (one of only the three meals the man could make with any competence). Phil took just a minute to be jealous that he hadn't been around for the original meal but he picked up his knife and fork quickly and started eating, savouring as he did so.

"You were meant to be back yesterday."

Phil nodded. "Last minute contentious subclause."

"Clint cooked."

"I can tell."

She stared at him intently. "Sitwell isn't as good as you."

"He's very competent."

"But, he isn't you," Nat pointed out and then stood up to collect two glasses of water.

"Is this you bribing me not to let Sitwell be your handler again?"

"You're supposed to be an Avenger now."

Phil ate another bite instead of smiling at her.

"Get some sleep, you look terrible," she said before she took her glass of water and walked out of the kitchen. Phil sat and finished his dinner before putting his dishes in the dishwasher and walking to his room. Clint joined him halfway down the hallway.

"Phil."

Phil turned to look at him, feeling his equilibrium was a little off due to exhaustion. "Clint."

"You're looking rough, boss."

Phil nodded. "My office couch is comfortable but it's not a bed."

"Oh I know," Clint said, throwing him a cheeky wink.

Phil remembered just how often Clint had fallen asleep on his couch post mission; needing a safe place to deflate after being undercover in varying levels of unsafe places. He was tempted to say something, this was the first real chance he had had since their kiss, the one he still didn't remember, and he knew it was the wrong time. He was exhausted and he knew that conversations that occurred when people were this tired could not be relied on. He told himself he would find Clint the next day and finally get some answers as the archer walked him back to his room and then left him with a jaunty salute.

(_)(_)(_)

The next morning, Phil surfaced out of a deep sleep and threw his blankets off before throwing his arms and legs out and revelling in the cold air that JARVIS was pumping out. He closed his eyes, let out a deep breath and then asked JARVIS to find him a show to put on while he allowed himself the luxury of wallowing in bed before getting up. When he was ready he climbed out of bed and showered, shaved, and then dressed carefully in jeans and a polo shirt. He thought that Clint would appreciate the jeans – the other man had made comments the few other times he had worn them. Then he left his apartment and headed towards Clint's.

Phil took a deep breath and smoothed down the collar of his polo shirt. Then he lifted his hand and knocked.

The door in front of him swung open but instead of Clint Phil was faced with a tall blonde.

"Bobbi?" Phil asked, surprised and letting her given name slip without thought.

"Hello Agent Coulson," she said, with a tight smile. "Are you looking for Clint?"

Phil shook his head, then stopped himself and took a small step back. "No, just let him know I came by."

Phil turned and walked back to his room, counting the beats of his steps in his head until he was in his apartments. He looked around at his very clean apartment and his ordered bookcase and then walked into his kitchen. He pulled out all of the spices and herbs he had in jars and bags. Then he started organising them by scientific name.

Phil didn't see Clint again for six weeks and when he came back the archer was limping and covered in bruises but he waved off any attempt to send him to medical and disappeared into his apartments.

That night, while Phil was making himself dinner there was a knock on the door and Phil asked JARVIS who was there as he walked towards it. Clint was standing on the other side, his face a mixture of yellow and purple bruises and one of his eyes half closed due to swelling.

"Clint?"

Clint tried to smile but it didn't end up stretching as widely as normal. "Bobbi mentioned you came to my apartment the day we left."

Phil nodded and the smell of food behind him made him turn. "Come inside. I did."

"Bobbi needed help with something from back when we were married."

"Is it sorted?"

"Yeah," Clint grimaced as he sat at Phil's kitchen table and Phil realised with surprise that Clint allowed him that – allowed him to see weaknesses that he would not show to others. Phil wondered briefly how long Clint had allowed him that and why he had never noticed before.

"Dinner?"

"Smells good."

"It will be ready in a couple of minutes, why don't you go and sit on the couch and pick out something to watch. We can eat there this time."

Clint nodded and stood up. Phil watched him walk away and told himself their conversation could wait until he was better. It had only been…four…four?...yes, definitely four months since their kiss. Another day wouldn't make any difference and at this point.

Though, as he dished out two plates of food he couldn't help but wonder if too much time had passed and mentioning it might not stir up something that Clint was obviously uninterested in talking about. It might be best to let it go.

/