Note: Project TAHITI never existed; Phil never died. I'd say that I prefer it that way, but then there wouldn't be Agents of SHIELD. So torn!

"Under Someone's Covers"

Making his way around the floor, Phil took the occasional sip of champagne. Just because he only worked half the hours for SHIELD that he used to, didn't mean that he'd stopped altogether.

After New York, the Avengers did everything they could to save him, calling in favours to drag Phil out of his coma and repair the damage Loki had done. Thor brought in a healer from Asgard, Tony consulted Stephen Strange, Bruce pitched in with his skills, and Fury co-ordinated everything necessary to get his one good eye back from death's door. Somehow, it worked. Phil recovered slowly, constantly waving away anyone who wasn't a health professional, including Fury.

Now he was at a masked party – the most interesting kind – and noting anyone who left the room and might be a threat to Hawkeye and Black Widow. They were searching for evidence of illegal activity in Sokovia. They'd kept it from Captain Rogers that they were investigating Baron Wolfgang von Strucker in particular; he was understandably touchy about Nazis.

"We found a claw… thing," Clint murmured over the comms.

"Handle with care," Phil replied, studying a painting on the wall. Using the reflection in his wineglass, he noticed a man in a silver mask approaching.

"Well, duh."

"Don't be cheeky, Barton." He lowered his glass, then turned around, nearly running into the stranger. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I'll just…" He stepped aside, but a strong arm blocked him.

"I startled you, there's no need to apologise."

Phil nearly dropped his glass, and swallowed as his grip tightened.

"I wasn't expecting that," he said.

"Neither was I, but I cannot say that I'm disappointed." The man stroked a finger down Phil's jaw, and he shivered. "Do you like Menzel?"

"Idina Menzel?" Phil smiled slyly. "Love her. Wish I'd seen her on Broadway in the original run of Wicked."

"I'm referring to the artist who painted the work behind you."

He chuckled. "I know. It was…"

"A joke. Of course." The man laughed softly. "My mistake."

"I only know that because of the name in the corner, though. I used to think that Leonardo da Vinci was solely an inventor, until someone told me that he'd painted the Mona Lisa. Art is not my strong point."

"I'd be happy to teach you anything you wished to know," the man purred, moving a step closer to Phil. He didn't back off, much as he thought he should.

"Is that right?"

Blue eyes stared down into his. Phil fought hard against running, because he suddenly felt an awful lot like prey.

"Coulson, are you alright?" Natasha said.

"You sound American," the man said.

"So do you."

"I spent some time there. What brings you to Sokovia?"

"The man I wanted to meet," Phil said. "Do you know the baron?"

"We have never met. I was planning to change that this evening. But I must say." He touched Phil's waist. "I cannot object to how things are proceeding."

Phil gulped, and drank half of his remaining champagne.

"Claw's safely packed away," Clint said. "I'm getting it out of here. Natasha's still searching. Who are you talking to?"

"You said you've spent time in America," Phil said. "Do you live in Sokovia, or are you just visiting as well?"

"Visiting." He took a step closer, and they were nearly flush against each other. "I live in Latveria."

"Oh? I've never been there."

"You will," he said. "You're my soulmate. Besides," he chuckled, "a king cannot rule one country while he resides in another indefinitely."

Phil's heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way. "You're the king of Latveria."

"Victor von Doom, at your service. Come." He slid an arm around Phil and steered him out of the room with a strength he couldn't hope to fight, plucking the glass out of his hand and placing it on a passing tray.

"But… Baron von—"

"I will be informed when he is ready to speak with me," Doom said. "We can meet him together. King and future consort."

"You're certainly looking ahead."

"Not too far, I hope." They were out of the ballroom and in the hallway. Uncaring of anyone watching, Doom pressed Phil up against the wall and captured his mouth greedily. Phil made a startled sound, one hand on Doom's chest and the other at his shoulder. Against his better judgement, it crept around to the back of Doom's neck and pulled him closer, keeping him there. The hallway was mostly deserted, and he'd glimpsed Natasha at a window near the top of the stairs. He parted his lips, let his soulmate consume him, even allowed a sneaky hand to creep down the back of his shirt and find its way to skin. Phil shuddered at the intimate touch, light-headed from lack of oxygen, and resorted to breathing through his nose. It was a relief and a disappointment when his mouth was finally released.

"Victor," he moaned softly.

"I don't even know your name," Doom said, his thumb unwittingly pressing against the soulmark. Phil was lucky he hadn't been born with his, or he would've had an awkward time explaining its position – and the implications – to his family.

Name. Ah.

"Well," he said, and he kissed Doom once more, "I could tell you," another kiss, "but that wouldn't be as fun," another, "as making you work for it."

"You refuse to tell me?"

"Wouldn't you rather find out for yourself?" Phil licked the patch of skin just above the V of Doom's shirt. "After all, I could give you a false name. I'm sure you'd prefer to make absolutely sure," he nuzzled Doom's neck, "that you know my identity. Future consort and all."

"Hmm." Doom dug his nails into Phil's skin, and his knees nearly went.

"What's that mean?" he asked.

"I believe I'll accept your challenge," Doom said. His nails bit harder, and Phil barely held in a gasp.

"You have fifteen minutes, or until we're introduced to Baron von Strucker," Phil said. "I'll be waiting here."

"Show me your face."

Phil hesitated, then removed his mask. Doom did the same, and Phil noticed that the rumours about his skin returning to normal were true. He touched the smooth surface, rubbed his cheeks gently.

"So handsome," he murmured. "I'm a lucky guy."

"My fifteen minutes will be up quickly if you continue to distract me," Doom warned. Phil pulled his mask back on, and Doom copied him.

"Get to it, then," he said. Doom smiled, obviously confident, and headed off. As soon as he was out of sight, Phil crept up the stairs to find Natasha.

"What's going on?" she hissed when he joined her in the study.

"Victor von Doom is my soulmate, that's all," Phil said.

"I didn't see that coming," Clint piped up on the comms. "You and Doom? Even Natasha couldn't have seen that."

"I'll never confirm one way or the other," she said.

"No one likes a know-it-all."

"Everyone likes Hermione," Phil said.

"Your fifteen minutes are speeding by," Clint said.

"Oh." Natasha paused over a file. "We need to get down to the basement."

"Why?" Phil said.

"Look." She showed him. He thought.

"New plan," he said.

Downstairs, he got to the meeting place only a minute before Doom approached him. He pushed Phil up against the wall and kissed him again. Phil could understand why; it was addictive.

"I look forward to burying myself in this," Doom said his hands back on Phil's ass. "So deep you can taste it."

"Fuck, yes," Phil said, arching against him. Natasha was sneaking down the stairs. She shot him an inappropriate thumbs-up, and he chose to nip Doom's neck in misdirected retaliation.

"That's the idea," Doom said, grinding against Phil. "Shall we ask the baron for a room to consummate our bond?"

God yes, he wanted to say. Dangerous reaction. "You wouldn't prefer to wait until the wedding night?"

"Is that an acceptance?"

"Was that a proposal before?"

"I do not have a ring with me; but then I was not expecting to meet my soulmate tonight."

"It'd have to be a pretty precise date as a soulmark for you to know," Phil pointed out.

"I will find you, Charles Martin."

There was a cough. Doom backed off a step, and scowled at the person interrupting them.

"Baron von Strucker will see you now," he said. Doom sighed.

"We are coming," he said.

"'We'?"

"My soulmate and I."

"Oh!"

"Let's go," Phil said, slipping his hand into Doom's.

Strucker wore a monocle, and his bearing screamed military. His supercilious sneer would have made him the perfect choice to cast as a villain in a Hollywood movie. He half-smiled when he saw their linked fingers.

"Newly met?" he asked.

"Yes, Baron," Phil said.

"My soulmate, Charles Martin," Doom said. "I am—"

"Victor von Doom, ruler of Latveria," Strucker said. "I have heard much of you. I must offer my congratulations to you both."

"They agreed," Clint whispered. "Time to leave. Transport's outside. Rescue in t-minus ten seconds."

"What do you do for a living, Mr. Martin?" Strucker asked. Phil cocked his head.

"Actually, it's Coulson," he said, letting go of Doom's hand and stepping back a couple of paces. "Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD." He shrugged at Doom's shocked expression. "Sorry, sweetheart. Just not our time, is it?"

"SHIELD?" Strucker said quietly.

"And liaison to the Avengers. Including Captain America. Yep."

Then there was a grey blur and people started hitting the floor. Clint and Natasha burst into the room, armed, and shouting for people to stay back. Phil ran towards them, meeting a dark-haired girl with a red glow around her hands part of the way.

"Keep going," she said. "Pietro and I will get out."

"Miss Maximoff, we're not leaving without you."

"And I say we can get out by ourselves. Now go."

He stopped at the door, meeting Doom's eyes. He pulled a few silver balls out of his inner jacket pocket and rolled them along the floor. Wanda ran towards him as more people around the room began to go down. Pietro met them at the door as explosions went off. All five ran out the front, jumped into the Quinjet waiting for them, and flew away from the fortress and out of Sokovia.

Leaving Phil's soulmate behind.

He stared out the window, already mourning the separation, but reminded himself that it was necessary. He couldn't fraternise with the enemy; he'd rather die than betray his people.

"It's not fair," Clint said. Phil met his gaze. "You, getting a supervillain as a soulmate."

"Don't worry," Phil said. "I don't intend to go dark-side just to get laid by…"

"The other half of your soul," Natasha said. He sighed.

"This sucks."

"Thank you for saving us," Wanda said. Phil smiled, tilting his head.

"That's what we do," he said. "We save people, or try to."

"Come with us for the time being," Clint said. "Phil's our liaison for SHIELD; he said he'll assess you on their behalf so you don't have to go in and have their doctors poking and prodding at you."

"Bruce might want to examine you," Phil said. "Bruce Banner, aka the Hulk. He's very familiar with being experimented on, so he'll be careful and considerate, more so than some of the more… enthusiastic scientists at SHIELD."

"And what will your Avengers say when you tell them who your soulmate is?" Pietro asked, glancing at Clint.

"No idea," he said.

"How will you live without him?"

Phil stared out the window.

"The only way I can," he whispered.

Tony stared out the window.

"You've gotta be kidding me," he said. "Agent!"

"I'm within earshot," Phil said, emerging from the kitchen area with bowls of popcorn. It was movie night – but then most nights were movie nights, as long as people could be dragged away from science.

"Your boyfriend's outside," Tony said as Phil handed bowls to Pietro and Wanda. This was their first movie night with the others; as Tony pointed out, they had a lot to catch up on.

"I don't have a boyfriend," Phil said, kicking Steve's heel to make him shuffle along the sofa.

"Oh, sorry. I mean your soulmate." Phil's head jerked up. "He's on the balcony."

He whirled around, and his jaw dropped when he saw that Doom was indeed standing outside.

"I wasn't expecting him," Phil said.

"Not a pre-arranged booty call, then?"

"No!"

"Well, you'd better let him in. Or go outside. Either way, you have to talk, so go do it."

Phil sighed, and JARVIS let him out the door. He stood in front of Doom and waited for him to speak.

"Good evening, Phil."

"Hello, Victor. What can I do for you?"

Doom's eyes shifted.

"I cannot give up my country."

"And I can't give up my work. Looks like a stalemate to me."

"But… I could fly here occasionally. And you could come to Latveria. I could send for you."

"Not terribly practical. As you said when we met, 'a king cannot rule one country while he resides in another indefinitely'. And I have to be near the Avengers, as their handler."

Doom's eyebrows rose. "Verbatim. You remember so much of that night?"

Phil lowered his voice. "I remember every moment I spent with you."

"I wish I knew how much of it was real, and how much was your undercover persona."

"My reactions to you were real. It was… only when I sent you to find out my name. And I prevaricated when it came to my motives for being there and seeing the baron. But pretty much everything else was… was genuine."

"Including those distracting kisses of yours?" Doom said, skimming a hand up Phil's side and inside his jacket.

"P-put it this way. I could've distracted you with conversation."

"But you chose kisses…?"

Phil smiled sadly. "Because I wanted them."

"I cannot possibly persuade you to come to Latveria with me?" Phil shook his head. "Or live there part of the time?"

"No consort could only live with their spouse part of the time. My job isn't the kind where you generally have the option of retiring. I love my work. I do it well. If I could retire someday, I could move to Latveria then. But… you're a dictator."

"I look after my people," Doom said, frowning.

"Yes, but you're still a dictator, and that's a big 'no' for me."

"If I… changed my ways—"

"It still wouldn't be practical unless you abdicated and moved back to America. I'm needed here more than I'm needed anywhere else. Victor… I'm sorry." He stroked his soulmate's cheek. "I really am. If I could change things, I would. But we've hit an impasse."

"Why did Fate give us to each other, then?"

Phil shook his head. "I don't know. But you're the villain, and I'm the guy who works with the heroes."

Doom's face fell, and he sighed, resting his forehead against Phil's.

"I hope to see you again one day," he said.

"Just not on opposite sides of the battlefield."

"May I have a kiss?"

Phil looked into his eyes, always bowled over by their shade of blue. "You never have to ask me for a kiss. Just take it."

Doom did, holding Phil so close, so tightly, that it felt like they could almost melt into one being. Phil's fingers clutched his hair, but Doom had full control. There was nothing but pure emotion as he devoured Phil, like it was their last kiss. It could have been, so Phil let him take everything he needed, taking as much as he could in return. His lips were chapped and he was shivering from the night air by the time Doom released him, and he would've staggered back if his soulmate wasn't still gripping him.

"I do not want to leave," Doom said.

"But you have to," Phil murmured. "Your people will be waiting."

"You cannot be moved?"

"No. I'm so sorry. If I was just some ordinary guy, I'd be with you in a heartbeat. But I'm an agent of SHIELD and handler for the Avengers."

"Which makes it virtually impossible," Doom said quietly.

"As things stand, yes."

"Very well." Doom cupped his cheek, and left Phil with only the one kiss to take to bed with him.

He was in no mood for movie night.

Two mornings later

"Yo," Clint said, perched on the kitchen counter beside Pietro.

"That's not hygienic," Phil said, and he hit them both on the knee with a spatula. "Get off there."

"Good morning to you, too."

"You said 'Yo'. What part of that resembles 'Good morning'?"

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Pietro. See, Clint? Someone around here knows their manners."

"If you're gonna be like that, then I'm not gonna tell you the interesting bit of news I read this morning," Clint said, turning up his nose. Pietro chuckled. There were bets already being placed on whether the two would decide to be platonic or non-platonic soulmates. Wanda couldn't be persuaded to tell.

"I can access news myself, you realise," Phil said.

"Yes, but it concerns your soulmate."

Phil fumbled with the dish he was holding. Pietro got there first and saved it.

"Thank you," he muttered.

"You're welcome. Clint, stop teasing him."

"Fine. JARVIS? You got the article fully translated?"

"Yes, Agent Barton, although I believe the headline says it all."

"Headline?" Phil said, looking around. Sometimes he hated that JARVIS didn't have a physical presence.

"Of Latveria's national newspaper, Agent Coulson. Victor von Doom has abdicated his leadership, and announced his intention to return to America and lead a far more law-abiding life."

"That would also explain his presence on the balcony," Pietro said. "He seems to like it there."

"I think he prefers a less conventional entrance," Clint remarked as Phil turned slowly. Across the room, he saw a familiar figure outside the large windows.

And he smiled.

Kira Kyuu, this is for you. Ship requested, ship delivered. More positive ending than 'This Is Not Good'. Don't know how it became this long. And there was supposed to be a reference to going under covers (i.e. bed sheets), but I ended up not including that, so the title is, again, obscure. Le sigh.

Please review! Oh, and I've watched Guardians of the Galaxy with my mother now, so… yeah. Some of those pairings previously requested may happen.