"Chapter Two"

The next time the Avengers came in, Phil was working. He seemed a little surprised that Natasha actually smiled at him, really smiled at him, when he nodded to her corner. She hovered there, and he began to explain.

"It's not you," he said when he went to the fridge for more vegetables. "Melinda… she doesn't like being watched. It's not for me to tell you why. In fact, I'm pretty sure she hasn't told me the whole story, and we've known each other for years." He hugged the bag of carrots to his chest. "But I understand paranoia. That's why I have no problem with you staying here." Natasha inclined her head, and murmured her thanks. Phil's lips quirked up at the edges. "If you want to know when I'm on, my schedule's over there."

"Where?" she asked quickly. He indicated the board.

"Sometimes we have to swap shifts, but that's what we aim for," he said.

As soon as the food was prepared – and there were many of them tonight, including Jane's friends, Rhodey, and Maria – Natasha waited for a clear path to the board. She swiftly memorised Phil's schedule, and then returned to the restaurant, while Phil started to prepare the next meals.

Sure enough, Mr. Stark sent for more of what Captain America was having. Phil checked outside. His stranger was back again, half-hidden behind a bush. Phil took the meal out there, the cutlery wrapped in a napkin this time, to appear less threatening.

"Did you like it last time?" he asked. "The food?" The man nodded. "You don't have any allergies, do you?" He shook his head. "You'll eat anything, so long as it's food?" The stranger half-smiled, and then nodded again. "Here. I hope you like this. I made it all myself."

This time, the stranger didn't wait for him to leave. He tucked in as soon as he had the plate in his lap. He still watched Phil, but he seemed more at ease.

"Would you like a drink? You must be cold at this time of night." Another shake of the head. "Not even water?"

After a pause, the man cleared his throat. "Water," he said. "Yes."

Phil tried not to smile too broadly. "Okay. I won't be long."

"You… you weren't here the other night."

"I don't work every night."

"When?"

"Funnily enough, you're the second person to ask me that." The stranger continued to stare at him. "I'll write it down for you. I could give you my number, if you have access to a phone?"

"No."

"Then I'll… I'll get that water for you."

By the time he returned, the man had eaten most of the food. Phil had decided against a glass, and instead brought an unopened plastic bottle. If the man really was homeless, he'd probably appreciate it more, being able to take something with him. Perhaps next time Phil would arrange a doggie bag for him? Something which could be eaten cold or room temperature? He'd pay for it himself, of course.

"Fast eater, huh?" Phil said, and he placed the bottle on the ground, along with a piece of paper. "You can leave those things there, like last time. I have to get on with my work."

A fast hand grabbed the bottle. The limb looked as if it was made of metal. Phil didn't stare at it.

"Thank you," the stranger said, and he placed the bottle of water between his feet.

"You're welcome. My name's Phil, by the way. Phil Coulson, if you need to ask for me." He didn't know why the man would need to ask for him, but just in case…

"J-James. My name."

Phil smiled kindly. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch the man. "I might be a little while. You can wait if you want."

When there was no reply, he waved, and wandered back to the kitchen. He didn't want to leave Trip and Jemma alone too long. Jemma was inclined to panic a bit if he wasn't there, having grown far too attached to him after the accident a year ago. Though it was probably also because she was an overachiever with a huge fear of failure. Leo was the only one who could get her to calm down when it was near exam time.

Phil took a little longer than he'd planned, what with a flurry of dessert orders for some diners and main meals for other tables, and by the time he went outside all that was left was the plate, the cutlery, and the napkin. His stranger – James – had folded the napkin neatly and anchored it down with the knife and fork.

Who was he?

A week or so passed before Bruce, Jane, and other fellow scientists came to The Everything Diner.

That was the night someone made the mistake of trying to get the cashier to hand over all the money in the till. Before the Hulk could do so much as stir, Skye had disabled one of the would-be thieves, and Lance took the other one down when he tried to make a break for it. Grant calmly summoned the police, and Jane and Bruce watched in amazement as he bound the miscreants with cooking twine. Then the staff got on with things as usual, while Lance kept an eye on them behind his maitre d' desk.

While this was happening, Phil was talking to James. He raised his eyebrows when he heard the police sirens, but knew that if anything was happening in the diner, the others would be taking care of it.

But James had frozen, and was staring at the red and blue lights turning in to the car park. He was poised as if to run.

"They're not here for you," Phil said, rubbing his arm soothingly. "James, you're safe, aren't you?" James just looked at him. "Are you on the run from the police?"

"From everybody."

"Like the Blues brothers?" That got a blank look. "Never mind. I haven't told anyone about you, and you're out of sight here."

"I know," James said, but he still seemed to shrink back.

"I'll go find out what's going on."

When he heard about the attempted robbery, and that it was foiled in less than twenty seconds, Phil just snorted, and took a bottle of water out to James.

"Told you," he said. "They haven't come for you. Just a couple of idiots decided to try to knock this place over. They didn't know that we all have some kind of self-defence training."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I thought that was why the Avengers like to eat here. Turns out," he shrugged, grinning, "they just like the food."

"I like the food."

"I'm glad." He sighed. "I'd better get going. You can stay, if you want. I have a car. I could take you wherever you want?"

James shrank back further. "No."

Only a little disappointed, Phil retreated. "I'll see you later, then. Good night, James."

"Good night, Phil."

"I've gotta see this for myself," Tony said, scouring the internet after finding out that the restaurant's cameras weren't digitally accessible. Steve had given up trying to dissuade him. Thor was just as bad, wanting to 'witness the prowess of these unassuming mortals who serve our food'. With everyone else egging Tony on, there was no point in stopping him. The footage was quickly found on Tumblr, and they watched the fifteen-second fight. It was shorter than that, actually. Skye had the first perp on the ground pretty quickly. It was Lance who waited for the other to run before felling him. Nobody could fault them.

"I told you so," Bruce said. "It was incredible."

"It would've been cool to see Phil in action," Jane said. "I asked, and Skye said that he's ex-military."

"That's where I know the name!" Sam said. "Next time I go with you, I've gotta send a message to him. We met when I started helping vets. It'd be great to see him again. He said something about planning to work at a café, or something like that. I never did get around to eating there."

"Well, you did, you just didn't know it," Darcy said. She was snuggling up to him; as Jane had pointed out, subtlety wasn't her strong point. "We should go there sometime, just you and me, Birdie."

"Nah, it wouldn't be any fun for you, two guys talking about the army. Three, if Steve comes along." Even Steve face-palmed at that, and Darcy's face fell.

"We're going back to London soon," she said.

"Then we should throw a going away party," he said, smiling wider. "That's a great idea, Darcy."

She rolled her eyes and sat back with a huff. Sam remained oblivious.

Various SHIELD agents were also in attendance at the going away party for Jane, Darcy, Eric, and Thor. A man named Ian was supposed to be picking them up at Heathrow, even though Tony had already offered the use of his private jet to take them anywhere they wanted to go, even straight into London if they felt like sky-diving. Darcy seemed a bit more cheerful, even though she kept throwing longing glances towards Sam. He was speaking to Leo, their favourite waiter. He was filled with bubbling-over Scottish enthusiasm, and while he sometimes tripped over his words, he was efficient and open, and always eager to please.

"I'll tell him you're here, sir," he said, and he bustled off while Skye brought their complimentary water. Phil soon joined them at their table, grinning when he saw Sam.

"Sam Wilson," he said.

"Hey, Phil," Sam said, standing up. He shook Phil's hand and pulled him into a hug.

"Good thing I'm not wearing the apron," Phil said. "Wouldn't want to get food all over you."

"You know me, man," Sam said. "I'll get it all over myself without your help."

Phil laughed, and they chatted for a few minutes about mutual acquaintances, and how Sam met Steve. They talked about the diner's expansion into a restaurant, Sam's work, and even about the drive from the city. But then another group came in, and Phil excused himself to get back to work.

"I'll leave my card," Sam told him. "So you can get in touch."

"Sure thing," Phil said. "Just leave it with Skye. Look forward to seeing you again."

"Same here."

"He has an impressive service record," Maria said after he left.

"You had him checked out?" Clint asked, eyebrows shooting up. "Seriously, Hill?"

"Of course. I had all of them checked out when it became clear that this was going to be your regular place."

"Huh." Clint leaned on the palm of his hand, and gave her a winning smile. He was amused to notice the way that Steve's jaw tightened. "Spill. What d'you know about him?"

Maria smiled sweetly. "It's classified," she said.

"…What?"

"For good reason, from what I heard," Sam said. Clint pouted.

"Spoilsport," he said.

Phil was disappointed that Tony Stark didn't change his order as usual, so he whipped up extra and stored it in a food box, along with plastic cutlery and serviettes. He grabbed a bottle of juice, mentally adding everything up. After a pause, he added a small box of truffles on the other side of the salad, to keep them from melting, and put it all aside. He noticed Trip's curious glances, but chose not to comment on them. Natasha had undoubtedly noticed it, but she didn't comment, either.

While the Avengers tucked into their main meals, Phil sneaked out of the kitchen again, and looked around. It took a few seconds longer than usual to find James. He was peering into one of the windows around the corner. Phil cleared his throat.

"James?" he called softly. James whipped around, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"Phil," he said, and he shuffled away from the window. Phil approached him carefully, pleased to see that James was relaxing more in his presence. He held out the box and juice.

"I love… I like having you around," he said. "I'm just worried that you're staying until you've finished so you can leave the cutlery and plate behind. So I packed everything up for you. In case you'd rather eat somewhere else.

"No," James said, taking the food and drink. "I… I like eating here."

"You can come in, if you want." James shook his head vigorously. "All right. Here." He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to James. "My address. If I'm not here, I'm either shopping or… well, not much else." He shrugged. "Anytime you need me. Even if it's the middle of the night."

"Why… why do you trust me?" James asked. Phil's heart nearly broke at the look in his eyes.

"Because you need someone to trust you," he said. "And someone you can trust."

James looked down. "I don't… I don't…"

"Just eat up," Phil said. He touched James's cheek. "You're still too thin."

"I don't eat much," James mumbled. "Mostly here."

"That's not—"

"Phil!" Jemma called. "Help?"

"I'd better go," Phil said. "I'll check out here when I can, so if you do want to stay…"

James nodded, and walked over to his usual corner. Phil returned to the kitchen, still bothered by the interaction. Soon, however, he was caught up in the rush of more food preparation, including dessert for the Avengers. He checked once, and James was still there, playing with the plastic knife. He didn't look up, but he half-smiled, so Phil figured that he had been noticed. Then he was busy again, James always at the back of his mind.

Suddenly, Darcy and Sam made so much sense. I don't know why; it just happened.

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