Avland - Mission 7: Challenge 6 - It's a Two Parter
Title: White Picket Fences
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Clint Barton, Phil Coulson
Word count: 618
Summary: Hawkeye gives way to Clint for a little while, with Phil's help.
Warnings/Spoiler warnings: Um…teensy, tinsy angst?
Submission/link to submission:
"Do you ever think about waking up on a Saturday morning in a little house on a couple of acres with a garden and a horse grazing in a little paddock in the backyard?"
Phil raised an eyebrow, reading the last sentence of his brief before finally raising his eyes to meet Clint's gaze. He wasn't surprised to find that gaze averted, staring at the fingers of one hand doing push-ups off the fingers of the other. "Sure. Doesn't everybody?"
"Pretty sure Thor doesn't. And I'm sure Tony doesn't. Banner's kind of a toss-up. Pretty damn sure Cap wants exactly that." Clint paused and then added quietly, "Not sure about Natasha, though."
Ah. There's the rub. "Yeah, she keeps that kind of thing pretty close to the vest."
"She's gonna kill me when she finds out I know you're alive and haven't told her yet."
"She'll come close, but she won't deprive herself of holding back, letting you heal, and doing it all over again later. You'll live."
"Yeah," Clint answered blandly. "She's already saved my life a few times."
Phil weighed his options in a split second, deciding whether to go with snark or let Clint go with his softer side for a few seconds. It was kind of interesting, watching him wage inner war between the tightly-controlled, highly trained manufactured personality and the gentle nature that still thrived underneath. Interesting and sometimes a little heartbreaking. This time Phil opted for silence.
"So. How come you didn't walk away? You were off the grid. You could have insisted they let you have the picket fence. You have enough dirt on them and enough safeguards in place that they couldn't take you out without exposing secrets."
"They probably wouldn't have let me keep my flying car."
Clint snorted and nodded, as if that explained everything. Of course it did.
"You know, Clint, you can have the picket fence and S.H.I.E.L.D. It's just harder. More complicated. Takes more work and a little more diligence."
"With all the travel, the cat would forget me and the horse would escape."
More silence.
"It's not always easy to reconcile choices we made a long time ago with desires we never thought we'd have," Phil finally said quietly, watching Clint carefully now, wondering how deep his regrets went and whether or not they've become a problem. He hadn't been completely the same since Loki took up residence in his brain.
Again he left Clint to his thoughts as long as he thought he should. Then Phil stood.
"Come on. I want to show you something."
That there was no comment from his companion spoke volumes. Clint simply stood, finally met Phil's eyes and silently asked for something … anything … that would get him out of his head.
Phil nodded, his lip kicking up so slightly and quickly that it might have been an illusion. Leading the way out of his office, he escorted Clint to his car.
When they navigated the final winding curve in the mile-long gravel drive, Phil figured the reveal to Clint was both expected and a surprise. It was just like his waking dream: the bright white clapboard, lovingly restored farmhouse amidst a sea of emerald green lawn, a white-rail paddock and a couple of matched mares grazing within, and porch swing.
"Yours?"
Phil nodded, getting out of the car and waiting for Clint to catch up. "And, for as long as you want, yours as well."
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Clint Barton, Phil Coulson
Word count: 618
Summary: Hawkeye gives way to Clint for a little while, with Phil's help.
Warnings/Spoiler warnings: Um…teensy, tinsy angst?
Submission/link to submission:
"Do you ever think about waking up on a Saturday morning in a little house on a couple of acres with a garden and a horse grazing in a little paddock in the backyard?"
Phil raised an eyebrow, reading the last sentence of his brief before finally raising his eyes to meet Clint's gaze. He wasn't surprised to find that gaze averted, staring at the fingers of one hand doing push-ups off the fingers of the other. "Sure. Doesn't everybody?"
"Pretty sure Thor doesn't. And I'm sure Tony doesn't. Banner's kind of a toss-up. Pretty damn sure Cap wants exactly that." Clint paused and then added quietly, "Not sure about Natasha, though."
Ah. There's the rub. "Yeah, she keeps that kind of thing pretty close to the vest."
"She's gonna kill me when she finds out I know you're alive and haven't told her yet."
"She'll come close, but she won't deprive herself of holding back, letting you heal, and doing it all over again later. You'll live."
"Yeah," Clint answered blandly. "She's already saved my life a few times."
Phil weighed his options in a split second, deciding whether to go with snark or let Clint go with his softer side for a few seconds. It was kind of interesting, watching him wage inner war between the tightly-controlled, highly trained manufactured personality and the gentle nature that still thrived underneath. Interesting and sometimes a little heartbreaking. This time Phil opted for silence.
"So. How come you didn't walk away? You were off the grid. You could have insisted they let you have the picket fence. You have enough dirt on them and enough safeguards in place that they couldn't take you out without exposing secrets."
"They probably wouldn't have let me keep my flying car."
Clint snorted and nodded, as if that explained everything. Of course it did.
"You know, Clint, you can have the picket fence and S.H.I.E.L.D. It's just harder. More complicated. Takes more work and a little more diligence."
"With all the travel, the cat would forget me and the horse would escape."
More silence.
"It's not always easy to reconcile choices we made a long time ago with desires we never thought we'd have," Phil finally said quietly, watching Clint carefully now, wondering how deep his regrets went and whether or not they've become a problem. He hadn't been completely the same since Loki took up residence in his brain.
Again he left Clint to his thoughts as long as he thought he should. Then Phil stood.
"Come on. I want to show you something."
That there was no comment from his companion spoke volumes. Clint simply stood, finally met Phil's eyes and silently asked for something … anything … that would get him out of his head.
Phil nodded, his lip kicking up so slightly and quickly that it might have been an illusion. Leading the way out of his office, he escorted Clint to his car.
When they navigated the final winding curve in the mile-long gravel drive, Phil figured the reveal to Clint was both expected and a surprise. It was just like his waking dream: the bright white clapboard, lovingly restored farmhouse amidst a sea of emerald green lawn, a white-rail paddock and a couple of matched mares grazing within, and porch swing.
"Yours?"
Phil nodded, getting out of the car and waiting for Clint to catch up. "And, for as long as you want, yours as well."