Not Even Nick Fury Goes Against the Psych Department
Title: Not Even Nick Fury Goes Against the Psych Department
Chapter One: Human Resources Already Has the Paperwork
Universe: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch.
Pairings: Clint Barton/Alex Quinn, Phil Coulson/Miri Grant
Rating: this one is going to be dirty. because there will be lots of sex.
Warnings: language and not much else.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture.
Summary: Letters sent to Director Fury from the Psych department and the medical staff prompt the man to hold an unusual intervention with four of his agents.
Author's Notes: this was originally meant to give me an excuse to have Alex and Miri go kick ass again. but then dirty smutty bunnies bit and wouldn't let go. and here we are.
~*~
"I'm sorry, sir. You're sending us where?" Barton asked. He was either the only one capable of speaking at the moment, or he was the only one capable of not slipping an expletive into the question. Which said something about the mentality of the four people staring at him across his desk.
Nick fought the smile that wanted to come and gave them the evil eye look he was known for. Not that he thought it would intimidate this lot. But it was worth a shot, right? Slowly, in a very careful manner, he let his gaze slide from one face to the next. One elbow rested on the arm of his desk chair, hand hovering in mid-air with fingers curled as if waiting for some order. The other hand rested against a stack of papers in front of him, palm flattened protectively on top of them. "I don't believe I stuttered, Agent Barton. You heard what I said."
"But sir!" Quinn chimed in, apparently ready to argue her case. He turned his single eye her way and glared her into silence. He could tell, though, that it had been a token protest, as if it was what he expected of her. Maybe he could push a button or two and bring his agent back to life.
"I don't want to hear any arguments, Quinn. I believe I told you that it was an order. Do you really want to disobey a direct order from your superior?" he asked, making sure to lift one brow in her direction. She stared for a moment. Long enough for him to see the hint of rebellion that brewed in her eyes. She wanted to argue with him, as it was her nature to want to tell him off. But she didn't because she knew when she could get away with shit like that. And she knew this wasn't the time. Quinn was a good agent and had never given him reason to regret tricking her into joining the organization. Didn't look like she planned on starting now. He shifted one hand to a file folder that was twice as thick as said appendage. "Do you know what this is?"
"Sir," Barton began, but he cut a look at the man that shut him up before he got any further.
"This is a folder full of letters written by the medical staff. Every single one of them. And they're all about the four of you." He paused long enough for his words to sink in, then he opened the file and looked at the piece of paper on top. "Let me read a few excerpts from some of these. Maybe that will make you understand just how serious this is."
"With all due respect, sir," Grant said, earning her a dirty look. She ignored it, something she'd grown more and more immune to the longer she'd been dating Coulson, and pressed on. "Alex and I are expected in Cambodia in four days. We've spent the past two weeks prepping for this mission."
"Sitwell is going in your stead. He and Woo. They've been read in and they understand the parameters of the mission. You and your band of merry misfits will be on the other side of the goddamn planet," he said with a touch of force. A pained expression slid across Phil's face, but he kept any comments he had to himself. Nick had worked with Coulson for a lot of years, The other man knew when to speak up and when it was a losing proposition. No doubt he saw just that no one would win this argument in Nick's face now. And no doubt Phil would give him an earful after it was all said and done. But he knew better than to do it now and in front of witnesses.
Barton's mouth dropped open again so Nick spoke up before the man had a chance to say anything else. "Your status with the Avengers isn't going to do you a damn bit of good here, Barton. So just shut up and listen. Nod your head when you're supposed to and say 'Yes, sir!' when its required. Understand me?"
To his credit, Barton closed his mouth and nodded his head. "Yes, sir."
"Good. No more interruptions, or this will get ugly." His dark gaze skimmed each face just to be sure they knew he was damned serious. That this was damned serious. He lifted the first page out of the opened file and dropped his focus to the section he already had highlighted. "Agent Barton displays an unhealthy and consistent lack of judgement when in the field. This department has seen far too many mission reports describing dangerous, life-threatening actions taken by Agent Barton that could result in permanent injury and/or death. To be perfectly frank, the entire staff of both the medical and psychological departments are surprised that Agent Barton has not yet met his demise because of his seeming need to constantly ignore his own limits."
"Sir," Barton began. Nick cocked a brow at the other man and gave him a look that dared him to say more. Mouthy as the archer was known to be, he knew better than to get that mouthy with his superiors when it was his ass on the line. It was gratifying to watch the man's mouth snap shut tight. But that didn't stop his eyes from simmering with anger.
Nick laid the sheet of paper he'd been reading from down on his desk and picked up the next one in the file. His lips twisted into a frown. "Agent Grant, several members of this organization were witness to your physical violence against one of the recruits. There was some kind of altercation between you and Agent Folton. It has been reported that you lost your temper and threw a punch or two. I have a complaint here from Agent Folton. He claims you were unnecessarily violent with him. And you apparently broke his damn nose. He's demanding disciplinary action."
"You'll have my sexual harassment complaint on your desk by the end of the day, sir. If you plan on disciplining anyone, it should be Agent Folton. He doesn't know how or when to keep his hands to himself," Grant replied, words bitten off just a little bit. Fury sighed and shook his head. Naturally he hadn't heard that part.
Phil turned to look at Agent Grant, one eyebrow lifted as high as it would go. "He put his hands on you?" She shrugged a shoulder negligently, as if it didn't matter.
"He made a few crude suggestions, too," she responded evenly. "I handled it."
"You never told me this happened," Phil replied just as evenly.
To any casual observer, it looked as if Phil was calm and cool and collected about the news he was obviously hearing for the first time. But Nick wasn't a casual observer. He'd known Phil for far too many years. And he could see something that a casual observer would never spot. Phil Coulson, the model of cool, calm, and collected, was seething mad. And he was ready to go out and smack some stupid, ignorant young fool around for making a pass at his woman.
"This is exactly why I called you in here today!" Nick snapped. The sound of his voice drew their attention his way once again. He made sure to hold the sheet of paper up where they could both see it before clearing his throat and reading the section of the letter he'd highlighted. "Agent Coulson has been displaying some unusual signs of aggression lately. After his last diplomatic trip to China, he was observed taking a junior agent to task for filing the wrong report. Said junior agent was left in tears and fearing for his life. The psychology department has been working with the agent for months and has almost convinced him that Agent Coulson will not, in fact, ensure that it will be impossible for this young man to have a family in the future."
Nick had to stop at that. It was hard to keep a straight face after reading that sentence and he really shouldn't have found it funny. Because he knew Phil well enough to know that he didn't bluff. Once he was sure his face wore its serious look, he lifted his gaze to look at the other man. "Is there anything you'd like to say here, Agent Coulson?"
"Agent Harris filed D63.7A in relation to the rabid mutant bunny situation in Phoenix. He should have filed a--"
"Jesus, Phil," Nick cut in, holding on to his sigh. The other man glared at him.
"What? I was perfectly justified in--"
"Listen to yourself, man! You're edgy and snarky. I'd expect this from anyone other than you. If you don't think this is proof that I'm right..." Nick trailed off and shrugged his shoulders. He let his gaze sweep over them all again before bringing it back to where Quinn sat silently in a chair. The small bit of life she'd shown earlier was gone, leaving nothing on her face to let him know what she was thinking. He decided to see if he could inspire something. "Let's talk about the latest wrench incident."
Quinn only blinked at him. The look in her eye said she didn't want to discuss it. Too damn bad. They were going to discuss it so that he could drive home his point. Any other time, she'd be at his throat trying to prove her point or defend any of her actions. He reached out and took hold of the next sheet of paper. "This is a report from medical about Agent Fitzhugh. Fortunately, he doesn't have a concussion. But he does have a broken wrist, three cracked ribs and a broken nose. He'll be out on medical leave for at least two months. And the report filed by the head of the motor pool says that this all could have been avoided."
'What would you like me to say, Director?" Quinn asked, still not looking directly at him. "Agent Fitzhugh and I had a slight disagreement."
"A slight disagreement?" Nick's eyebrow shot up to the ceiling. "Is that what you're calling it? He's talking about suing!"
"He deserved it," Barton said, voice low and tight. Controlled.
"Clint. Shut up," Quinn hissed.
"No. Since he's bringing it up, we're going to talk about it. You should have taken it to Coulson or Fury anyway." Barton was vibrating with tightly leashed anger, the threat of violence held back by years of training.
"It was my problem to deal with. I didn't need you riding to the rescue. I am more than capable of dealing with a stupid idiot like Fitzhugh."
"But you didn't, Lexi," Barton's voice softened until it was plain to hear how much he loved Quinn and how much he hated the whole situation. And just how much he was worried about her. "You let him stand there and talk shit about you. You took it. And you never take people's shit."
"It just wasn't worth it, Clint," she shook her head.
"What wasn't worth it, Agent Quinn?" Nick asked, drawing their attention to him. She shrugged one shoulder and shook her head.
"Seriously, sir. It wasn't worth Clint's reaction and it isn't worth discussing now. I'd rather we just forgot all about it and let it go," Quinn replied. Calm and rational. That wasn't usually her bag. That was something her partner in crime was more inclined to go with. His gaze flicked to where Grant sat. The look on her face suggested that this was news to her. Even Phil was paying close attention to the two of them.
"What was it that brought about such a reaction from Barton?" Nick asked. Quinn shook her head to let him know she wasn't going to respond. He reached for the next sheet of paper, making sure that it made enough noise to attract her attention. "Allow me to read some from this letter I have in my hand. Because it pertains to you and your sudden lack of anything resembling a backbone. Which, in case you hadn't realized it yet, is exactly why we're sitting here right now."
"Sir, I--" Quinn began and finished before he'd even fully formed his frown. She closed her mouth and shifted her gaze off to the side again.
"That's what I thought. Now, I'd appreciate it if I could finish the rest of this meeting without being interrupted every five goddamn minutes. Can we do that, people?" He let his gaze skim the four faces on the other side of his desk to ensure that everyone was on the same page. Then he shifted his attention back to the letter in his hand, easily finding the text he was looking for by the bright orange highlighter surrounding it. "As I was saying before being interrupted, I'm going to read a passage of this letter. And you will all keep the fuck quiet until I'm done!"
No one responded to that. Good.
"Agent Quinn has shown increasing signs of withdrawal in the workplace. These are worrisome and problematic signs to see in a field agent. In the latest situation involving Agent Quinn, an exchange of words between herself and Agent Fitzhugh resulted in an altercation between Agent Fitzhugh and Agent Barton. Agent Fitzhugh was assaulted with a wrench and injured. It took six other agents to pull Agent Barton off of Agent Fitzhugh, who was then taken to medical to have his injuries tended to. When asked what started the conflict, Agent Quinn remained silent and refused to answer. This is a symptom of something much larger and more widespread."
Nick put the letter down and let his focus sharpen on Quinn. She didn't shift in her seat, but it was a close thing. "If these were the only letters I had in my possession, I might be willing to overlook this whole mess. But I have no less than half a dozen such letters on my desk at this moment. For each of you. You can imagine just how alarming it is for me to have all of these letters cluttering up my desk. And you can imagine just how concerned I am about my people."
He took a moment to look at each of them, waited to see if anyone was going to say anything. When no one opened their mouths to add absolutely nothing to the conversation, he pressed on. "We have a situation here. And if everything that's been written into these letters and reports is to be believed, its a damn serious situation. I've got agents losing their cool the moment someone looks at them funny. And I've got agents who are normally hotheads flying off the handle at the blink of an eye. And then I've got agents who are normally hotheads who have suddenly decided to just let everything go. And as a result, I've got good agents on medical leave. This shit has to stop."
"Fitzhugh deserved more than just a few broken bones," Barton interjected.
"Well, now. I can't make that determination, can I? I don't know what happened that made you feel the need to attack a fellow agent with a wrench. Do I? Because nobody has told me shit!" Nick made sure to put a touch of heat in the last word, once more sending his gaze seeking around the room.
"Fitzhugh insulted Lexi. She wasn't going to call him on it. I did." Barton sounded smug.
"He insulted her? And that warranted taking a wrench to his face?"
"He called her--"
"Clint. Let it go," Quinn interrupted, almost begged, one hand reaching out to curl around his arm.
"-- a cheap Irish whore. He also insinuated that she'd gotten where she was in the company by being a cheap Irish whore." The amount of hatred simmering in Barton's voice was unlike anything he'd ever heard from the man before. "He was pissed at her for turning down his proposition. And he did proposition her. It was pretty disgusting. And you never even made an effort to set him straight, Lexi."
"It wasn't worth it, Clint," she replied.
"Wasn't worth it? The old Lexi would have beaten him with the wrench before I had a chance to do it myself," Barton shot back.
"And that's exactly why the four of you are sitting in front of me right now!" Nick took over the conversation once again. "No one is acting like themselves lately. Would anyone like to hazard a guess as to what psych seems to think the problem is?"
He let his gaze skim the room one more time. Everyone remained stubbornly silent. Not that he'd expected an answer. He wasn't director of S.H.I.E.L.D. for nothing. He'd dealt with tough crowds before. A group of his best agents wasn't any different than a couple of terrorists.
"No one? Why am I not surprised?" He gave them a look, then set about returning the letters back to their file folder. Made sure to take time and let them all stew a little bit. When he was finished, he settled back in his chair and eyed them all, elbows bent and resting on the chair arms while he steepled his hands before him. "The psych department seems to think that you four are on edge, that you could possibly snap at any moment and cause an international incident. Seeing you in here today, I'm inclined to agree with that assessment. And I sure as hell don't need any international incidents to deal with."
"We've never been anything but professional, sir," Grant commented. He shot her a look.
"Moscow. 2007." It was gratifying to see both Grant and Quinn flush with embarrassment at the reminder. "I took the liberty of going through your files. And I noticed one disturbing thing you all have in common. None of you have ever voluntarily taken time off from the job. Any leave has been for medical reasons. You can imagine how concerned I am about your mental states because of this. You can imagine it because I'm ordering you to take vacation. In fact, I've already put the requests through to Human Resources. And I took the liberty of booking you a flight to some exotic locale."
"Vacation?" Quinn asked. She was staring at him in confusion, as if she'd never heard the word before. It was possible she hadn't.
"Yes. Vacation. Its this thing where you leave your place of employment for a set amount of time and relax. Maybe you've heard of it. You don't go to work. You don't think about work. You don't worry about work. You live your goddamned life without work in it. "
"Don't you think this is a little drastic, sir?" Grant asked, "I mean, forcing us to take a vacation. Isn't that against the rules somewhere or something?"
"You can either take this vacation, which I highly suggest you do," Nick leveled his most fearsome glare on her and watched as her lips pressed together tightly. "Or, you lose your field certification and you have to spend the next six months to a year in extensive psych evals. If you pass those evaluations, then you have to recertify before I will even let you think about sitting behind one of my desks again. Do you understand what I'm saying here, Agent Grant? Do all of you understand what I'm saying here? Do you understand how important this is? You take vacation or you don't work. Those are your only two choices."
"But sir--" Quinn began. Her words died when he snapped his gaze to her face.
He made sure that everyone would understand his position by slapping his hand down onto the surface of his desk. "Those are your only two choices! Have I made myself clear or do I need to explain this all in much smaller words so that I know you all understand me?"
"You've made yourself perfectly clear, sir," Coulson said before anyone else could argue any further. "When do we leave?"
"Tonight. You have time to go home, get packed, and catch a meal. I'm going to have Agent Romanova drive you to the airport. To ensure that you get there on time."
He watched the four of them share the same look before turning their attention back to him. Coulson, apparently the voice of the group, spoke up one more time. "And where will we be going, sir?"
~*~*~*~*~
"Aloha!" Alex sighed the word out, holding the vowels for an extra length of time to accurately describe how she felt at that moment.
Miri turned her head and glanced at her, then clinked the rim of her glass against Alex's. "I second that sentiment." The two women smiled at one another, then lifted their glasses and took a drink of the cool, fruity concoction.
A gentle breeze blew in off the ocean, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and warm sun. The mouth watering aroma of steaks sizzling on the grill accompanied it. It was late in the day, the sun sliding lower and lower in the sky. For a moment, Alex could imagine Apollo in his chariot, racing ever toward the horizon and dragging the flaming star behind him. It was a pleasant image, one she'd never allowed herself in New York. It was possible she could get used to this life.
Three days. It had only taken her three days to come to that conclusion. Of course, she knew that it was simply not possible, that sooner or later she'd start to feel the desire to push papers and chase bad guys and save the world when it didn't know it was in danger coursing through her veins. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to enjoy the vacation Fury had forced her into taking. How had she not known that Hawaii was so beautiful?
She had to hand it to Fury. He'd taken care of everything. Not only had he filed their vacation paperwork for them and dealt with booking the flight, the sly, conniving fucker had arranged for a place for the four of them to stay. Alex had a sneaking suspicion that it was actually a S.H.I.E.L.D. property, but since no one was using it, he'd figured they could spend a few weeks inhabiting the place and relax. She had to admit. It was the perfect place to relax.
The four of them had, upon stepping off the plane, been shown to a rental car and given a map with detailed directions to find their vacation home. Alex had been expecting something small and cramped. Maybe geared toward the tourists. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find that the map took them to a place that was large and sprawled over probably an acre of prime beach front property. It was surrounded by a brick fence on three sides and the ocean on the fourth. A pair of wrought iron gates guarded the entrance to the place and there was a long drive to the house. Green grass, green trees, and brightly colored flowers made it look inviting and homey.
There were a pair of bungalows on the grounds, each one big enough for one or two people. Alex knew, despite having only stepped foot in one of the buildings, that both had a lower level consisting of a bright kitchen that opened into the dining area, as well as a large living room that overlooked the ocean, and a decent sized bathroom with a spacious walk in shower. There was also a second level accessible by a staircase that doubled back on itself. It was a loft and contained a large, queen sized bed. Said bed was draped with sheer curtains and had several lamps of various make on the inside.
A large patio ran between the two buildings, half as wide as one of the bungalows. There were several tables set up in the bright sun with umbrellas waiting to be opened up. One end was covered and contained woven outdoor furniture with plush cushions that made sitting comfortable. Wood and glass tables were scattered throughout the seating arrangement, some with glass lanterns to provide soft light when the sun was gone. There was a crystal clear pool at the other end of the patio, surrounded by lounge chairs and lush plant life. Beyond the pool was the warm, soft brown of beach sand that ran straight down into the ocean. The blue of the ocean water was only a few shades darker than the sky that raced it toward the horizon.
A hidden stereo played island music, all soft drums and ukulele that should have been annoying and wasn't. It was actually relaxing and Alex was considering downloading a copy of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. A large grill that held the sizzling steaks was located in the center of the patio, in the sunlight, between the sliding glass doors that opened into either bungalow. Everything was shades of green and blue and grey and so terribly soothing. She couldn't remember feeling this relaxed. Ever.
She heaved a sigh of pure contentment.
"I agree. Its very beautiful here. And so laid back. I don't know the last time I woke up without any kind of tension pulling my shoulders tight," Miri replied softly. Alex rolled her head and tipped it down to stare at her best friend over the tops of her sunglasses. "I might be able to see the wisdom in Fury's thinking."
"Yeah. Me, too. This is pretty damned amazing. Though I'm itching to try out the jacuzzi tub. I've got aches and pains in places I didn't think it was possible to have aches and pains," Alex admitted. Miri smiled at her.
"Is this the first you've been out of the bungalow since we got here?" Alex gave a nod of her head. Miri let go a throaty chuckle and sipped her drink a little more. "Same here. I think we've managed to use every single piece of furniture in the house, plus the tub and the shower. I want one of those showers when we get home. Just like that. Because there's so much room to do things in there and the bench is big enough for both of us to sit on."
"I don't think Clint or I left the bed for more than five minutes the first twelve hours we were here. It was really kind of lovely because all of those windows give such a lovely view and since we didn't sleep, we watched the sun come up. I don't think I've ever seen anything quite as beautiful as the way the sun painted the sky in reds and oranges and pinks and yellows. It was kind of like being on an island all by ourselves." Alex took a moment to savor the memory. It was something she was always going to cherish. "Then he killed the moment and decreed that bed sex was boring and we started in on the other surfaces. The dining room table was fun. I think he eyeballed the patio furniture once or twice."
"Nothing's broken, is it?" Miri teased. Alex chuffed a laugh and sipped at her fruity cocktail drink thing. "The sex has been fantastic. It really has. And don't get me wrong. I really enjoy it. But, for me, the best part of this whole thing is just being able to curl up at night and have Phil by my side. Sleeping in the same bed is such a simple thing. And its something I took for granted. But we've been so busy lately... This is the first chance I've had in a very long time to just lay with him. Listen to him breathe. Listen to his heart beat. Feel his skin against mine and soak up his body heat. I think I just watched him sleep for an hour the first night before he actually woke up and convinced me to lay down. I got to fall asleep in his arms and it was just... so perfect."
Alex smiled. "Awww. That's so sweet. Wait," she paused and blinked at Miri. "You guys slept?"
She watched as Miri let go with a full laugh that echoed between the two bungalows. It had been a while since she'd seen her friend just let go like that. It made her want to say a few other things to keep the laughter going, but she never got the chance. The door to the bungalow she and Clint were sharing slid open in order to allow their men back out onto the patio. Clint was carrying a tray with drinks on it. Coulson carried a large bowl filled with chips against his chest, one arm curled around it protectively. It looked like there was a smaller bowl in his hand, more than likely dip. The two of them headed toward the lounge chairs Miri and Alex occupied.
"What's so funny?" Clint asked. Alex watched him move for a moment, appreciating all of the skin he was showing. He'd only bothered with shorts, leaving his chest, arms, and most of his legs exposed.
"Oh, I'm just surprised to find out that Miri and Coulson have slept at all since we got here," she replied. It didn't take him long at all to process her statement. When he did, the look on his face was priceless. Clint had always had problems imagining Agent Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most badass and bland agent, doing anything as normal as having sex with his girlfriend. They'd talked about it before and she could see that he was thinking that now even as he was desperately trying not to see any such events in his head. He said nothing about his discomfort, though, and settled the tray of drinks on the table between herself and Miri. Then he handed them each a second glass of the same fruity concoction. When he gave Alex hers, he leaned in to steal a kiss and took a moment to lick the sticky flavor from her lips. After righting himself, he passed Miri's drink over with a smile on his face.
The glasses were sweating, the drinks contained within frozen and already melting in the heat. One of the beads of sweat must have rolled off of the glass to land on Miri somewhere because she jumped slightly in her seat. "Ooo! Cold. Cold!"
It was surprising, and yet not, to see Coulson swoop into action. He bent over the lounge and dipped low enough to capture the wayward droplet with his mouth. The man's lips pressed firmly against her skin and made her shudder. It was obviously an intimate touch because Alex watched as Miri's eyes slid closed and her mouth went slack ever so slightly. She even sagged back into the lounger. The caress lasted for several long seconds before Coulson pulled away to smile down at Miri. His expression and eyes were soft with tender emotions. Clint shifted uneasily. "I am never going to get used to that."
"Avert your eyes, then," Miri replied with a knowing smirk. Clint glared at her sass. She laughed in return. "Really, Clint? A kiss on the stomach and you're freaking out? I thought you were far more worldly than that. Alex is always telling me about the various ways you ravish her. The story about the teddy bear and the rhinestone bracelet is one of my favorites. How is it you can be damned kinky with my best friend but you're positively a prude when it comes to what Phil and I do? Maybe I should help loosen you up a little. Wanna hear what he did to me in the shower last night?"
"Now, Miri. Don't embarrass him," Coulson added, a hint of teasing in his voice. For split second, Clint's shoulders began drifting down as he relaxed. But that ended the second Coulson let a secretive smile cross his face and he tossed a wink Alex's way. "Start off with something less intensive. Like what we did on the dining room table the first night we were here."
"I... I should go check on the steaks," Clint muttered and lurched away. There was a something of a dazed look on his face that suggested he was processing the information despite his attempts to do exactly the opposite. Alex tried to turn a scowl on Miri and Phil, but it was just too damned much effort. Instead, she rolled her eyes and managed a laugh.
"Stop teasing him. Both of you. He's been positively amazing so far this trip. Don't give him a reason to whine," she insisted. Then her smile turned into a wicked thing and she lowered her voice. "That's my job."
"Steaks will be done in about fifteen minutes," Clint called out, a not so subtle way to change the subject. The three of them laughed at his brutish tactics but silently agreed to let him have his way. "Do you want to eat inside or out here on the patio?"
"I vote for the patio. There's something soothing about listening to the ocean as the waves roll up onto the beach," Miri told him.
"Obviously you've never had HYDRA agents trying to drown you in the ocean before. But the view is nice and the weather is lovely. It would be kind of stupid to sit in the house and ignore the beautiful, breath-taking scenery." Alex let her gaze slide toward Clint, a corner of her mouth curling up as she watched him.
The sun, not yet fully set, spread golden light across his tanned arms and shoulders. Painted strands of hair the color of wheat. His black shorts were tight enough to fit to his ass, but not so tight as to show off all his assets. He seemed oblivious to her attention, but she was pretty sure he knew she was watching him. He always seemed to know when she stared. For just a moment, she allowed herself to fantasize about their life if they stayed in a place like this. No more snow. No more cold. No crazy New York traffic. Nothing but sun and sand and surf and the sounds of nature.
It was a pretty image for all of five minutes. Then she came back to reality with the realization that she'd miss the crowding in the city, the noise, the traffic, the smell, and basically everything else. She really did love her job and the small house she and Clint owned. She couldn't imagine sitting on her ass the whole day long and not going out to get the bad guys. She couldn't imagine Clint doing the same, either. She couldn't even really imagine not being around her family, no matter how annoying her mother could be at times.
Clint's gaze shifted to where Coulson sat beside Miri. "And what about you, Coulson? What's your vote?"
One of the man's eyebrows went up at that, obviously amused by the way Clint had addressed him. He said nothing about it, though, and just inclined his head. "Out here would be just fine. The fresh air is bound to make everything taste that much better." Coulson took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of the steaks before his face cleared and he frowned. "Clint, you've done all the cooking, haven't you? I mean, Alex didn't help prepare anything? I only ask because I don't think I want to spend all of my vacation in the hospital for food poisoning."
"Oh, ha ha. So very funny," Alex retorted. "If I thought I could get away with it, I'd beat the crap out of you. But I know I can't get away with it and this is a vacation. So I'm going to respectfully tell you to go fuck yourself, Phil, and then ignore you for the rest of our time here. Maybe tonight, we'll see how loud I can scream. You didn't want to sleep anytime soon, did you?"
Miri chuckled. "I suppose we could have a contest to see who can scream loudest. Phil does this thing with his tongue and two of his fingers that--"
"And that's my cue to go in and start gathering up dinner," Clint broke in, his words cutting off any kind of explanation Miri might have given about what Phil did with his tongue and those two fingers. Alex found herself curious for all of ten seconds, then promptly delivered a mental slap to herself and rose from the lounge. Those were dangerous waters that she had no business swimming in. Time to occupy her thoughts with other things.
"I'll help."
~*~
"So, I was thinking..." Miri paused to fork a piece of steak into her mouth. "Holy shit, this is good. You have a gift, Clint."
"I don't have much of a choice because Alex still fails at cooking. It doesn't matter how much I try to teach her. She still burns water," Clint replied. Alex made to stab him with her fork, but he caught her hand easily and pried the fork from her grip. "No foreplay at the dinner table. We have guests."
"Please, Alex. Contain yourself. I would like to be able to enjoy this lovely meal that Clint prepared for us," Miri said, not bothering to hide the smirk. Alex shot her a single finger salute and reclaimed her fork from Clint. He handed it to her with a grin on his face that promised her he'd make all of the teasing up to her later. She ignored that and turned back to her meal. Miri was right. Her steak was amazing, as were the sides that he'd put together to go with them. "Besides, you're making me jealous. You never tried to stab me with a fork as a form of foreplay. You don't love me anymore, do you?"
"There wasn't any time to use a fork for foreplay. I was going with my instinct." Alex shrugged before lifting a bite of baked potato toward her mouth, then pointed the empty utensil toward her best friend. "Trust me, if I had known that we'd be kissing and feeling one another up that night, I would have brought my best fork to the party and I would have tried to stab you with it."
There was a soft, strangled sound beside her. As well as the clattering of a fork glass. She ignored them and stabbed at her salad. It had been a mission and, unless it was something really minor, she and Clint never talked about their missions. They might have the same clearance level but that didn't mean that they had clearance to share their assignments with one another. And, to be honest, there were some things that she didn't want to share with him. There were things she barely wanted to share with the shrinks. The mission that had seen Alex and Miri acting like girlfriends in order to keep their cover in tact. And possibly to keep them from being hurt in really horrible, painful ways. Because of the nature of their mission, she'd never told Clint what had happened. So this was all news to him.
"Tease," Miri commented, her voice just a little bit husky. Alex let slip a shy smile and went in for another forkful of her baked potato. She felt Clint move beside her, just a slight tensing of muscles, that signified he was getting ready to start asking questions because while she hadn't told him what had happened that mission, she had no doubts that Coulson knew. Clint would be annoyed to no end that he was the only one who didn't know and he was determined to find out. Miri must have seen that he was going to ask because she went on like there had been no interruption. "Anyway, like I said, I was thinking. Tomorrow, we should go do something touristy. This is a vacation, after all. We're entitled to do something that all of the visitors do."
"You had something in mind, Miri?" Coulson asked. Alex reached for her fruity drink with the alcoholic bite and sipped from the glass slowly.
"Hawaii is famous for Kona blend coffee. I was thinking we could go see a coffee plantation. I took a moment to check online while Phil was in the shower and they give tours. We could make a day of it. Do some sight seeing, check out the plantation, catch a meal at one of the local places. Get out of the bungalows for a few hours."
"You and your coffee," Alex snarked, making sure Miri saw her roll her eyes.
"Yes. Me and my coffee." Miri took a moment to carve off another bite of her steak and chew it with relish. "I just thought we could get out and actually enjoy the islands. I mean, we can't stay inside all day and do nothing but have sex."
"Speak for yourself," Clint remarked, voice warm with humor.
"You're a pervert, Barton. There's no way I'm going to speak for you," Miri teased. She took another bite of her steak and closed her eyes, obviously relishing the tender, juicy, seasoned piece of beef. "Oh my god! If I weren't already dating, Phil, I would totally be trying to get into your pantry. Where did you learn how to cook like this?"
"I was a bachelor for a long time. I had to learn to cook or starve. Eating drive thru every night isn't really an option," Clint replied. It was a jab at Alex's lack of culinary skills. She elbowed him in the ribs.
"Speak for yourself, Barton."Alex mimicked. "I'll have you know that I can eat drive thru all the damn time."
He grinned and poked her arm with a finger."Maybe I should book us more time in the gym, then. Because if you keep eating that shit the way you like to, you're going to get fat."
"Keep teasing me, arrow boy, and I'll spend the day before my next mission making every messy recipe I can find. And then I'll leave it for you to clean up."
"I'd just leave it for you to clean up when you got home," Clint reminded her with a grin.
"And then there'd be a fight."
"And then there'd be sex," Miri chimed in. Both Alex and Clint turned their attention toward the woman. She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Fighting is foreplay for you two! It always has been. You'd probably yell at each other for about five minutes, Alex would throw a punch, Clint would catch it, and then you two would be fucking on the living room floor. Everybody who knows you is well aware of this. In fact, there's a memo from Fury floating around the office stating that if you are both in the gym alone, no one is to enter because the company is not going to pay for the therapy sessions that come from walking in on you. Harper did that once, which is what prompted the memo."
"I don't think he's recovered from it yet, either," Phil added with a hint of a smile on his face. "I believe he called it one of the most frightening events he's ever had chance to witness. And he's seen some horrible things in his years of employment with S.H.I.E.L.D."
Alex frowned and stabbed at her steak viciously. It earned her a chuckle from the couple on the other side of the table. "With all due respect, Coulson. Fuck you."
"I'll consider it," the man said softly. Alex looked up and blinked, but there was nothing on his face to suggest he'd actually said anything. Hmmmm. She had to have imagined it. Maybe there was more alcohol in her fruity drink than she'd realized.
"Seriously, though." Miri went on as if none of the previous conversation had happened. "I really think we should do some touristy things. And I'd love to go see a coffee plantation. It is my fervent hope that I can get some fresh coffee beans. Come on, you guys. It could be fun! We can't stay squirreled away in the bungalows the whole time we're here."
"Speak for yourself," Alex and Clint chimed in together. Miri rolled her eyes and drove her fork into a pile of salad. After chewing on the crunchy greens and washing them down with a drink of water, she pointed at them with her fork.
"I'm going to show up inside your bungalow tomorrow morning before the sun is even up. I will get you up and I will shove you both into the shower myself if I have to. We need to do something other than lay around the bungalow and see how long it takes to break things." There was an edge of warning in her voice that told Alex she was serious. And Alex knew that Miri would do everything she said. And more. Up to and including climbing into the shower with her. And Clint. And... mmm. That presented lovely images that she liked far more than was probably wise.
Hmmm. That was twice now tonight. Once involving Coulson, who was essentially her boss, and once involving Miri, who was her best friend and the sister she'd never had. While these were not unpleasant thoughts - she'd long known there were parts of her that she had yet to fully explore and understand - and she didn't mind thinking them, she did think that perhaps they were a touch inappropriate to have about people she more or less considered family. She shot a look at her drink and wondered if maybe Clint had spiked it with a little more alcohol than was strictly necessary. It was probably time to switch to something that did absolutely nothing to her thought processes.
Clint sighed in resignation. He knew when he was beat. "Fine. We'll go see a coffee plantation tomorrow. Anything to keep you from barging in on us when we're sleeping or otherwise engaged."
"Excellent!" Miri chimed happily and returned her attention to her plate. Alex considered kicking Clint under the table, but there was no point. Better they face a coffee plantation than Miri waking them up against their will.
Yay. Tomorrow was going to be fun.
~*~
Chapter One: Human Resources Already Has the Paperwork
Universe: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch.
Pairings: Clint Barton/Alex Quinn, Phil Coulson/Miri Grant
Rating: this one is going to be dirty. because there will be lots of sex.
Warnings: language and not much else.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture.
Summary: Letters sent to Director Fury from the Psych department and the medical staff prompt the man to hold an unusual intervention with four of his agents.
Author's Notes: this was originally meant to give me an excuse to have Alex and Miri go kick ass again. but then dirty smutty bunnies bit and wouldn't let go. and here we are.
~*~
"I'm sorry, sir. You're sending us where?" Barton asked. He was either the only one capable of speaking at the moment, or he was the only one capable of not slipping an expletive into the question. Which said something about the mentality of the four people staring at him across his desk.
Nick fought the smile that wanted to come and gave them the evil eye look he was known for. Not that he thought it would intimidate this lot. But it was worth a shot, right? Slowly, in a very careful manner, he let his gaze slide from one face to the next. One elbow rested on the arm of his desk chair, hand hovering in mid-air with fingers curled as if waiting for some order. The other hand rested against a stack of papers in front of him, palm flattened protectively on top of them. "I don't believe I stuttered, Agent Barton. You heard what I said."
"But sir!" Quinn chimed in, apparently ready to argue her case. He turned his single eye her way and glared her into silence. He could tell, though, that it had been a token protest, as if it was what he expected of her. Maybe he could push a button or two and bring his agent back to life.
"I don't want to hear any arguments, Quinn. I believe I told you that it was an order. Do you really want to disobey a direct order from your superior?" he asked, making sure to lift one brow in her direction. She stared for a moment. Long enough for him to see the hint of rebellion that brewed in her eyes. She wanted to argue with him, as it was her nature to want to tell him off. But she didn't because she knew when she could get away with shit like that. And she knew this wasn't the time. Quinn was a good agent and had never given him reason to regret tricking her into joining the organization. Didn't look like she planned on starting now. He shifted one hand to a file folder that was twice as thick as said appendage. "Do you know what this is?"
"Sir," Barton began, but he cut a look at the man that shut him up before he got any further.
"This is a folder full of letters written by the medical staff. Every single one of them. And they're all about the four of you." He paused long enough for his words to sink in, then he opened the file and looked at the piece of paper on top. "Let me read a few excerpts from some of these. Maybe that will make you understand just how serious this is."
"With all due respect, sir," Grant said, earning her a dirty look. She ignored it, something she'd grown more and more immune to the longer she'd been dating Coulson, and pressed on. "Alex and I are expected in Cambodia in four days. We've spent the past two weeks prepping for this mission."
"Sitwell is going in your stead. He and Woo. They've been read in and they understand the parameters of the mission. You and your band of merry misfits will be on the other side of the goddamn planet," he said with a touch of force. A pained expression slid across Phil's face, but he kept any comments he had to himself. Nick had worked with Coulson for a lot of years, The other man knew when to speak up and when it was a losing proposition. No doubt he saw just that no one would win this argument in Nick's face now. And no doubt Phil would give him an earful after it was all said and done. But he knew better than to do it now and in front of witnesses.
Barton's mouth dropped open again so Nick spoke up before the man had a chance to say anything else. "Your status with the Avengers isn't going to do you a damn bit of good here, Barton. So just shut up and listen. Nod your head when you're supposed to and say 'Yes, sir!' when its required. Understand me?"
To his credit, Barton closed his mouth and nodded his head. "Yes, sir."
"Good. No more interruptions, or this will get ugly." His dark gaze skimmed each face just to be sure they knew he was damned serious. That this was damned serious. He lifted the first page out of the opened file and dropped his focus to the section he already had highlighted. "Agent Barton displays an unhealthy and consistent lack of judgement when in the field. This department has seen far too many mission reports describing dangerous, life-threatening actions taken by Agent Barton that could result in permanent injury and/or death. To be perfectly frank, the entire staff of both the medical and psychological departments are surprised that Agent Barton has not yet met his demise because of his seeming need to constantly ignore his own limits."
"Sir," Barton began. Nick cocked a brow at the other man and gave him a look that dared him to say more. Mouthy as the archer was known to be, he knew better than to get that mouthy with his superiors when it was his ass on the line. It was gratifying to watch the man's mouth snap shut tight. But that didn't stop his eyes from simmering with anger.
Nick laid the sheet of paper he'd been reading from down on his desk and picked up the next one in the file. His lips twisted into a frown. "Agent Grant, several members of this organization were witness to your physical violence against one of the recruits. There was some kind of altercation between you and Agent Folton. It has been reported that you lost your temper and threw a punch or two. I have a complaint here from Agent Folton. He claims you were unnecessarily violent with him. And you apparently broke his damn nose. He's demanding disciplinary action."
"You'll have my sexual harassment complaint on your desk by the end of the day, sir. If you plan on disciplining anyone, it should be Agent Folton. He doesn't know how or when to keep his hands to himself," Grant replied, words bitten off just a little bit. Fury sighed and shook his head. Naturally he hadn't heard that part.
Phil turned to look at Agent Grant, one eyebrow lifted as high as it would go. "He put his hands on you?" She shrugged a shoulder negligently, as if it didn't matter.
"He made a few crude suggestions, too," she responded evenly. "I handled it."
"You never told me this happened," Phil replied just as evenly.
To any casual observer, it looked as if Phil was calm and cool and collected about the news he was obviously hearing for the first time. But Nick wasn't a casual observer. He'd known Phil for far too many years. And he could see something that a casual observer would never spot. Phil Coulson, the model of cool, calm, and collected, was seething mad. And he was ready to go out and smack some stupid, ignorant young fool around for making a pass at his woman.
"This is exactly why I called you in here today!" Nick snapped. The sound of his voice drew their attention his way once again. He made sure to hold the sheet of paper up where they could both see it before clearing his throat and reading the section of the letter he'd highlighted. "Agent Coulson has been displaying some unusual signs of aggression lately. After his last diplomatic trip to China, he was observed taking a junior agent to task for filing the wrong report. Said junior agent was left in tears and fearing for his life. The psychology department has been working with the agent for months and has almost convinced him that Agent Coulson will not, in fact, ensure that it will be impossible for this young man to have a family in the future."
Nick had to stop at that. It was hard to keep a straight face after reading that sentence and he really shouldn't have found it funny. Because he knew Phil well enough to know that he didn't bluff. Once he was sure his face wore its serious look, he lifted his gaze to look at the other man. "Is there anything you'd like to say here, Agent Coulson?"
"Agent Harris filed D63.7A in relation to the rabid mutant bunny situation in Phoenix. He should have filed a--"
"Jesus, Phil," Nick cut in, holding on to his sigh. The other man glared at him.
"What? I was perfectly justified in--"
"Listen to yourself, man! You're edgy and snarky. I'd expect this from anyone other than you. If you don't think this is proof that I'm right..." Nick trailed off and shrugged his shoulders. He let his gaze sweep over them all again before bringing it back to where Quinn sat silently in a chair. The small bit of life she'd shown earlier was gone, leaving nothing on her face to let him know what she was thinking. He decided to see if he could inspire something. "Let's talk about the latest wrench incident."
Quinn only blinked at him. The look in her eye said she didn't want to discuss it. Too damn bad. They were going to discuss it so that he could drive home his point. Any other time, she'd be at his throat trying to prove her point or defend any of her actions. He reached out and took hold of the next sheet of paper. "This is a report from medical about Agent Fitzhugh. Fortunately, he doesn't have a concussion. But he does have a broken wrist, three cracked ribs and a broken nose. He'll be out on medical leave for at least two months. And the report filed by the head of the motor pool says that this all could have been avoided."
'What would you like me to say, Director?" Quinn asked, still not looking directly at him. "Agent Fitzhugh and I had a slight disagreement."
"A slight disagreement?" Nick's eyebrow shot up to the ceiling. "Is that what you're calling it? He's talking about suing!"
"He deserved it," Barton said, voice low and tight. Controlled.
"Clint. Shut up," Quinn hissed.
"No. Since he's bringing it up, we're going to talk about it. You should have taken it to Coulson or Fury anyway." Barton was vibrating with tightly leashed anger, the threat of violence held back by years of training.
"It was my problem to deal with. I didn't need you riding to the rescue. I am more than capable of dealing with a stupid idiot like Fitzhugh."
"But you didn't, Lexi," Barton's voice softened until it was plain to hear how much he loved Quinn and how much he hated the whole situation. And just how much he was worried about her. "You let him stand there and talk shit about you. You took it. And you never take people's shit."
"It just wasn't worth it, Clint," she shook her head.
"What wasn't worth it, Agent Quinn?" Nick asked, drawing their attention to him. She shrugged one shoulder and shook her head.
"Seriously, sir. It wasn't worth Clint's reaction and it isn't worth discussing now. I'd rather we just forgot all about it and let it go," Quinn replied. Calm and rational. That wasn't usually her bag. That was something her partner in crime was more inclined to go with. His gaze flicked to where Grant sat. The look on her face suggested that this was news to her. Even Phil was paying close attention to the two of them.
"What was it that brought about such a reaction from Barton?" Nick asked. Quinn shook her head to let him know she wasn't going to respond. He reached for the next sheet of paper, making sure that it made enough noise to attract her attention. "Allow me to read some from this letter I have in my hand. Because it pertains to you and your sudden lack of anything resembling a backbone. Which, in case you hadn't realized it yet, is exactly why we're sitting here right now."
"Sir, I--" Quinn began and finished before he'd even fully formed his frown. She closed her mouth and shifted her gaze off to the side again.
"That's what I thought. Now, I'd appreciate it if I could finish the rest of this meeting without being interrupted every five goddamn minutes. Can we do that, people?" He let his gaze skim the four faces on the other side of his desk to ensure that everyone was on the same page. Then he shifted his attention back to the letter in his hand, easily finding the text he was looking for by the bright orange highlighter surrounding it. "As I was saying before being interrupted, I'm going to read a passage of this letter. And you will all keep the fuck quiet until I'm done!"
No one responded to that. Good.
"Agent Quinn has shown increasing signs of withdrawal in the workplace. These are worrisome and problematic signs to see in a field agent. In the latest situation involving Agent Quinn, an exchange of words between herself and Agent Fitzhugh resulted in an altercation between Agent Fitzhugh and Agent Barton. Agent Fitzhugh was assaulted with a wrench and injured. It took six other agents to pull Agent Barton off of Agent Fitzhugh, who was then taken to medical to have his injuries tended to. When asked what started the conflict, Agent Quinn remained silent and refused to answer. This is a symptom of something much larger and more widespread."
Nick put the letter down and let his focus sharpen on Quinn. She didn't shift in her seat, but it was a close thing. "If these were the only letters I had in my possession, I might be willing to overlook this whole mess. But I have no less than half a dozen such letters on my desk at this moment. For each of you. You can imagine just how alarming it is for me to have all of these letters cluttering up my desk. And you can imagine just how concerned I am about my people."
He took a moment to look at each of them, waited to see if anyone was going to say anything. When no one opened their mouths to add absolutely nothing to the conversation, he pressed on. "We have a situation here. And if everything that's been written into these letters and reports is to be believed, its a damn serious situation. I've got agents losing their cool the moment someone looks at them funny. And I've got agents who are normally hotheads flying off the handle at the blink of an eye. And then I've got agents who are normally hotheads who have suddenly decided to just let everything go. And as a result, I've got good agents on medical leave. This shit has to stop."
"Fitzhugh deserved more than just a few broken bones," Barton interjected.
"Well, now. I can't make that determination, can I? I don't know what happened that made you feel the need to attack a fellow agent with a wrench. Do I? Because nobody has told me shit!" Nick made sure to put a touch of heat in the last word, once more sending his gaze seeking around the room.
"Fitzhugh insulted Lexi. She wasn't going to call him on it. I did." Barton sounded smug.
"He insulted her? And that warranted taking a wrench to his face?"
"He called her--"
"Clint. Let it go," Quinn interrupted, almost begged, one hand reaching out to curl around his arm.
"-- a cheap Irish whore. He also insinuated that she'd gotten where she was in the company by being a cheap Irish whore." The amount of hatred simmering in Barton's voice was unlike anything he'd ever heard from the man before. "He was pissed at her for turning down his proposition. And he did proposition her. It was pretty disgusting. And you never even made an effort to set him straight, Lexi."
"It wasn't worth it, Clint," she replied.
"Wasn't worth it? The old Lexi would have beaten him with the wrench before I had a chance to do it myself," Barton shot back.
"And that's exactly why the four of you are sitting in front of me right now!" Nick took over the conversation once again. "No one is acting like themselves lately. Would anyone like to hazard a guess as to what psych seems to think the problem is?"
He let his gaze skim the room one more time. Everyone remained stubbornly silent. Not that he'd expected an answer. He wasn't director of S.H.I.E.L.D. for nothing. He'd dealt with tough crowds before. A group of his best agents wasn't any different than a couple of terrorists.
"No one? Why am I not surprised?" He gave them a look, then set about returning the letters back to their file folder. Made sure to take time and let them all stew a little bit. When he was finished, he settled back in his chair and eyed them all, elbows bent and resting on the chair arms while he steepled his hands before him. "The psych department seems to think that you four are on edge, that you could possibly snap at any moment and cause an international incident. Seeing you in here today, I'm inclined to agree with that assessment. And I sure as hell don't need any international incidents to deal with."
"We've never been anything but professional, sir," Grant commented. He shot her a look.
"Moscow. 2007." It was gratifying to see both Grant and Quinn flush with embarrassment at the reminder. "I took the liberty of going through your files. And I noticed one disturbing thing you all have in common. None of you have ever voluntarily taken time off from the job. Any leave has been for medical reasons. You can imagine how concerned I am about your mental states because of this. You can imagine it because I'm ordering you to take vacation. In fact, I've already put the requests through to Human Resources. And I took the liberty of booking you a flight to some exotic locale."
"Vacation?" Quinn asked. She was staring at him in confusion, as if she'd never heard the word before. It was possible she hadn't.
"Yes. Vacation. Its this thing where you leave your place of employment for a set amount of time and relax. Maybe you've heard of it. You don't go to work. You don't think about work. You don't worry about work. You live your goddamned life without work in it. "
"Don't you think this is a little drastic, sir?" Grant asked, "I mean, forcing us to take a vacation. Isn't that against the rules somewhere or something?"
"You can either take this vacation, which I highly suggest you do," Nick leveled his most fearsome glare on her and watched as her lips pressed together tightly. "Or, you lose your field certification and you have to spend the next six months to a year in extensive psych evals. If you pass those evaluations, then you have to recertify before I will even let you think about sitting behind one of my desks again. Do you understand what I'm saying here, Agent Grant? Do all of you understand what I'm saying here? Do you understand how important this is? You take vacation or you don't work. Those are your only two choices."
"But sir--" Quinn began. Her words died when he snapped his gaze to her face.
He made sure that everyone would understand his position by slapping his hand down onto the surface of his desk. "Those are your only two choices! Have I made myself clear or do I need to explain this all in much smaller words so that I know you all understand me?"
"You've made yourself perfectly clear, sir," Coulson said before anyone else could argue any further. "When do we leave?"
"Tonight. You have time to go home, get packed, and catch a meal. I'm going to have Agent Romanova drive you to the airport. To ensure that you get there on time."
He watched the four of them share the same look before turning their attention back to him. Coulson, apparently the voice of the group, spoke up one more time. "And where will we be going, sir?"
~*~*~*~*~
"Aloha!" Alex sighed the word out, holding the vowels for an extra length of time to accurately describe how she felt at that moment.
Miri turned her head and glanced at her, then clinked the rim of her glass against Alex's. "I second that sentiment." The two women smiled at one another, then lifted their glasses and took a drink of the cool, fruity concoction.
A gentle breeze blew in off the ocean, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and warm sun. The mouth watering aroma of steaks sizzling on the grill accompanied it. It was late in the day, the sun sliding lower and lower in the sky. For a moment, Alex could imagine Apollo in his chariot, racing ever toward the horizon and dragging the flaming star behind him. It was a pleasant image, one she'd never allowed herself in New York. It was possible she could get used to this life.
Three days. It had only taken her three days to come to that conclusion. Of course, she knew that it was simply not possible, that sooner or later she'd start to feel the desire to push papers and chase bad guys and save the world when it didn't know it was in danger coursing through her veins. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to enjoy the vacation Fury had forced her into taking. How had she not known that Hawaii was so beautiful?
She had to hand it to Fury. He'd taken care of everything. Not only had he filed their vacation paperwork for them and dealt with booking the flight, the sly, conniving fucker had arranged for a place for the four of them to stay. Alex had a sneaking suspicion that it was actually a S.H.I.E.L.D. property, but since no one was using it, he'd figured they could spend a few weeks inhabiting the place and relax. She had to admit. It was the perfect place to relax.
The four of them had, upon stepping off the plane, been shown to a rental car and given a map with detailed directions to find their vacation home. Alex had been expecting something small and cramped. Maybe geared toward the tourists. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find that the map took them to a place that was large and sprawled over probably an acre of prime beach front property. It was surrounded by a brick fence on three sides and the ocean on the fourth. A pair of wrought iron gates guarded the entrance to the place and there was a long drive to the house. Green grass, green trees, and brightly colored flowers made it look inviting and homey.
There were a pair of bungalows on the grounds, each one big enough for one or two people. Alex knew, despite having only stepped foot in one of the buildings, that both had a lower level consisting of a bright kitchen that opened into the dining area, as well as a large living room that overlooked the ocean, and a decent sized bathroom with a spacious walk in shower. There was also a second level accessible by a staircase that doubled back on itself. It was a loft and contained a large, queen sized bed. Said bed was draped with sheer curtains and had several lamps of various make on the inside.
A large patio ran between the two buildings, half as wide as one of the bungalows. There were several tables set up in the bright sun with umbrellas waiting to be opened up. One end was covered and contained woven outdoor furniture with plush cushions that made sitting comfortable. Wood and glass tables were scattered throughout the seating arrangement, some with glass lanterns to provide soft light when the sun was gone. There was a crystal clear pool at the other end of the patio, surrounded by lounge chairs and lush plant life. Beyond the pool was the warm, soft brown of beach sand that ran straight down into the ocean. The blue of the ocean water was only a few shades darker than the sky that raced it toward the horizon.
A hidden stereo played island music, all soft drums and ukulele that should have been annoying and wasn't. It was actually relaxing and Alex was considering downloading a copy of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. A large grill that held the sizzling steaks was located in the center of the patio, in the sunlight, between the sliding glass doors that opened into either bungalow. Everything was shades of green and blue and grey and so terribly soothing. She couldn't remember feeling this relaxed. Ever.
She heaved a sigh of pure contentment.
"I agree. Its very beautiful here. And so laid back. I don't know the last time I woke up without any kind of tension pulling my shoulders tight," Miri replied softly. Alex rolled her head and tipped it down to stare at her best friend over the tops of her sunglasses. "I might be able to see the wisdom in Fury's thinking."
"Yeah. Me, too. This is pretty damned amazing. Though I'm itching to try out the jacuzzi tub. I've got aches and pains in places I didn't think it was possible to have aches and pains," Alex admitted. Miri smiled at her.
"Is this the first you've been out of the bungalow since we got here?" Alex gave a nod of her head. Miri let go a throaty chuckle and sipped her drink a little more. "Same here. I think we've managed to use every single piece of furniture in the house, plus the tub and the shower. I want one of those showers when we get home. Just like that. Because there's so much room to do things in there and the bench is big enough for both of us to sit on."
"I don't think Clint or I left the bed for more than five minutes the first twelve hours we were here. It was really kind of lovely because all of those windows give such a lovely view and since we didn't sleep, we watched the sun come up. I don't think I've ever seen anything quite as beautiful as the way the sun painted the sky in reds and oranges and pinks and yellows. It was kind of like being on an island all by ourselves." Alex took a moment to savor the memory. It was something she was always going to cherish. "Then he killed the moment and decreed that bed sex was boring and we started in on the other surfaces. The dining room table was fun. I think he eyeballed the patio furniture once or twice."
"Nothing's broken, is it?" Miri teased. Alex chuffed a laugh and sipped at her fruity cocktail drink thing. "The sex has been fantastic. It really has. And don't get me wrong. I really enjoy it. But, for me, the best part of this whole thing is just being able to curl up at night and have Phil by my side. Sleeping in the same bed is such a simple thing. And its something I took for granted. But we've been so busy lately... This is the first chance I've had in a very long time to just lay with him. Listen to him breathe. Listen to his heart beat. Feel his skin against mine and soak up his body heat. I think I just watched him sleep for an hour the first night before he actually woke up and convinced me to lay down. I got to fall asleep in his arms and it was just... so perfect."
Alex smiled. "Awww. That's so sweet. Wait," she paused and blinked at Miri. "You guys slept?"
She watched as Miri let go with a full laugh that echoed between the two bungalows. It had been a while since she'd seen her friend just let go like that. It made her want to say a few other things to keep the laughter going, but she never got the chance. The door to the bungalow she and Clint were sharing slid open in order to allow their men back out onto the patio. Clint was carrying a tray with drinks on it. Coulson carried a large bowl filled with chips against his chest, one arm curled around it protectively. It looked like there was a smaller bowl in his hand, more than likely dip. The two of them headed toward the lounge chairs Miri and Alex occupied.
"What's so funny?" Clint asked. Alex watched him move for a moment, appreciating all of the skin he was showing. He'd only bothered with shorts, leaving his chest, arms, and most of his legs exposed.
"Oh, I'm just surprised to find out that Miri and Coulson have slept at all since we got here," she replied. It didn't take him long at all to process her statement. When he did, the look on his face was priceless. Clint had always had problems imagining Agent Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most badass and bland agent, doing anything as normal as having sex with his girlfriend. They'd talked about it before and she could see that he was thinking that now even as he was desperately trying not to see any such events in his head. He said nothing about his discomfort, though, and settled the tray of drinks on the table between herself and Miri. Then he handed them each a second glass of the same fruity concoction. When he gave Alex hers, he leaned in to steal a kiss and took a moment to lick the sticky flavor from her lips. After righting himself, he passed Miri's drink over with a smile on his face.
The glasses were sweating, the drinks contained within frozen and already melting in the heat. One of the beads of sweat must have rolled off of the glass to land on Miri somewhere because she jumped slightly in her seat. "Ooo! Cold. Cold!"
It was surprising, and yet not, to see Coulson swoop into action. He bent over the lounge and dipped low enough to capture the wayward droplet with his mouth. The man's lips pressed firmly against her skin and made her shudder. It was obviously an intimate touch because Alex watched as Miri's eyes slid closed and her mouth went slack ever so slightly. She even sagged back into the lounger. The caress lasted for several long seconds before Coulson pulled away to smile down at Miri. His expression and eyes were soft with tender emotions. Clint shifted uneasily. "I am never going to get used to that."
"Avert your eyes, then," Miri replied with a knowing smirk. Clint glared at her sass. She laughed in return. "Really, Clint? A kiss on the stomach and you're freaking out? I thought you were far more worldly than that. Alex is always telling me about the various ways you ravish her. The story about the teddy bear and the rhinestone bracelet is one of my favorites. How is it you can be damned kinky with my best friend but you're positively a prude when it comes to what Phil and I do? Maybe I should help loosen you up a little. Wanna hear what he did to me in the shower last night?"
"Now, Miri. Don't embarrass him," Coulson added, a hint of teasing in his voice. For split second, Clint's shoulders began drifting down as he relaxed. But that ended the second Coulson let a secretive smile cross his face and he tossed a wink Alex's way. "Start off with something less intensive. Like what we did on the dining room table the first night we were here."
"I... I should go check on the steaks," Clint muttered and lurched away. There was a something of a dazed look on his face that suggested he was processing the information despite his attempts to do exactly the opposite. Alex tried to turn a scowl on Miri and Phil, but it was just too damned much effort. Instead, she rolled her eyes and managed a laugh.
"Stop teasing him. Both of you. He's been positively amazing so far this trip. Don't give him a reason to whine," she insisted. Then her smile turned into a wicked thing and she lowered her voice. "That's my job."
"Steaks will be done in about fifteen minutes," Clint called out, a not so subtle way to change the subject. The three of them laughed at his brutish tactics but silently agreed to let him have his way. "Do you want to eat inside or out here on the patio?"
"I vote for the patio. There's something soothing about listening to the ocean as the waves roll up onto the beach," Miri told him.
"Obviously you've never had HYDRA agents trying to drown you in the ocean before. But the view is nice and the weather is lovely. It would be kind of stupid to sit in the house and ignore the beautiful, breath-taking scenery." Alex let her gaze slide toward Clint, a corner of her mouth curling up as she watched him.
The sun, not yet fully set, spread golden light across his tanned arms and shoulders. Painted strands of hair the color of wheat. His black shorts were tight enough to fit to his ass, but not so tight as to show off all his assets. He seemed oblivious to her attention, but she was pretty sure he knew she was watching him. He always seemed to know when she stared. For just a moment, she allowed herself to fantasize about their life if they stayed in a place like this. No more snow. No more cold. No crazy New York traffic. Nothing but sun and sand and surf and the sounds of nature.
It was a pretty image for all of five minutes. Then she came back to reality with the realization that she'd miss the crowding in the city, the noise, the traffic, the smell, and basically everything else. She really did love her job and the small house she and Clint owned. She couldn't imagine sitting on her ass the whole day long and not going out to get the bad guys. She couldn't imagine Clint doing the same, either. She couldn't even really imagine not being around her family, no matter how annoying her mother could be at times.
Clint's gaze shifted to where Coulson sat beside Miri. "And what about you, Coulson? What's your vote?"
One of the man's eyebrows went up at that, obviously amused by the way Clint had addressed him. He said nothing about it, though, and just inclined his head. "Out here would be just fine. The fresh air is bound to make everything taste that much better." Coulson took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of the steaks before his face cleared and he frowned. "Clint, you've done all the cooking, haven't you? I mean, Alex didn't help prepare anything? I only ask because I don't think I want to spend all of my vacation in the hospital for food poisoning."
"Oh, ha ha. So very funny," Alex retorted. "If I thought I could get away with it, I'd beat the crap out of you. But I know I can't get away with it and this is a vacation. So I'm going to respectfully tell you to go fuck yourself, Phil, and then ignore you for the rest of our time here. Maybe tonight, we'll see how loud I can scream. You didn't want to sleep anytime soon, did you?"
Miri chuckled. "I suppose we could have a contest to see who can scream loudest. Phil does this thing with his tongue and two of his fingers that--"
"And that's my cue to go in and start gathering up dinner," Clint broke in, his words cutting off any kind of explanation Miri might have given about what Phil did with his tongue and those two fingers. Alex found herself curious for all of ten seconds, then promptly delivered a mental slap to herself and rose from the lounge. Those were dangerous waters that she had no business swimming in. Time to occupy her thoughts with other things.
"I'll help."
~*~
"So, I was thinking..." Miri paused to fork a piece of steak into her mouth. "Holy shit, this is good. You have a gift, Clint."
"I don't have much of a choice because Alex still fails at cooking. It doesn't matter how much I try to teach her. She still burns water," Clint replied. Alex made to stab him with her fork, but he caught her hand easily and pried the fork from her grip. "No foreplay at the dinner table. We have guests."
"Please, Alex. Contain yourself. I would like to be able to enjoy this lovely meal that Clint prepared for us," Miri said, not bothering to hide the smirk. Alex shot her a single finger salute and reclaimed her fork from Clint. He handed it to her with a grin on his face that promised her he'd make all of the teasing up to her later. She ignored that and turned back to her meal. Miri was right. Her steak was amazing, as were the sides that he'd put together to go with them. "Besides, you're making me jealous. You never tried to stab me with a fork as a form of foreplay. You don't love me anymore, do you?"
"There wasn't any time to use a fork for foreplay. I was going with my instinct." Alex shrugged before lifting a bite of baked potato toward her mouth, then pointed the empty utensil toward her best friend. "Trust me, if I had known that we'd be kissing and feeling one another up that night, I would have brought my best fork to the party and I would have tried to stab you with it."
There was a soft, strangled sound beside her. As well as the clattering of a fork glass. She ignored them and stabbed at her salad. It had been a mission and, unless it was something really minor, she and Clint never talked about their missions. They might have the same clearance level but that didn't mean that they had clearance to share their assignments with one another. And, to be honest, there were some things that she didn't want to share with him. There were things she barely wanted to share with the shrinks. The mission that had seen Alex and Miri acting like girlfriends in order to keep their cover in tact. And possibly to keep them from being hurt in really horrible, painful ways. Because of the nature of their mission, she'd never told Clint what had happened. So this was all news to him.
"Tease," Miri commented, her voice just a little bit husky. Alex let slip a shy smile and went in for another forkful of her baked potato. She felt Clint move beside her, just a slight tensing of muscles, that signified he was getting ready to start asking questions because while she hadn't told him what had happened that mission, she had no doubts that Coulson knew. Clint would be annoyed to no end that he was the only one who didn't know and he was determined to find out. Miri must have seen that he was going to ask because she went on like there had been no interruption. "Anyway, like I said, I was thinking. Tomorrow, we should go do something touristy. This is a vacation, after all. We're entitled to do something that all of the visitors do."
"You had something in mind, Miri?" Coulson asked. Alex reached for her fruity drink with the alcoholic bite and sipped from the glass slowly.
"Hawaii is famous for Kona blend coffee. I was thinking we could go see a coffee plantation. I took a moment to check online while Phil was in the shower and they give tours. We could make a day of it. Do some sight seeing, check out the plantation, catch a meal at one of the local places. Get out of the bungalows for a few hours."
"You and your coffee," Alex snarked, making sure Miri saw her roll her eyes.
"Yes. Me and my coffee." Miri took a moment to carve off another bite of her steak and chew it with relish. "I just thought we could get out and actually enjoy the islands. I mean, we can't stay inside all day and do nothing but have sex."
"Speak for yourself," Clint remarked, voice warm with humor.
"You're a pervert, Barton. There's no way I'm going to speak for you," Miri teased. She took another bite of her steak and closed her eyes, obviously relishing the tender, juicy, seasoned piece of beef. "Oh my god! If I weren't already dating, Phil, I would totally be trying to get into your pantry. Where did you learn how to cook like this?"
"I was a bachelor for a long time. I had to learn to cook or starve. Eating drive thru every night isn't really an option," Clint replied. It was a jab at Alex's lack of culinary skills. She elbowed him in the ribs.
"Speak for yourself, Barton."Alex mimicked. "I'll have you know that I can eat drive thru all the damn time."
He grinned and poked her arm with a finger."Maybe I should book us more time in the gym, then. Because if you keep eating that shit the way you like to, you're going to get fat."
"Keep teasing me, arrow boy, and I'll spend the day before my next mission making every messy recipe I can find. And then I'll leave it for you to clean up."
"I'd just leave it for you to clean up when you got home," Clint reminded her with a grin.
"And then there'd be a fight."
"And then there'd be sex," Miri chimed in. Both Alex and Clint turned their attention toward the woman. She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Fighting is foreplay for you two! It always has been. You'd probably yell at each other for about five minutes, Alex would throw a punch, Clint would catch it, and then you two would be fucking on the living room floor. Everybody who knows you is well aware of this. In fact, there's a memo from Fury floating around the office stating that if you are both in the gym alone, no one is to enter because the company is not going to pay for the therapy sessions that come from walking in on you. Harper did that once, which is what prompted the memo."
"I don't think he's recovered from it yet, either," Phil added with a hint of a smile on his face. "I believe he called it one of the most frightening events he's ever had chance to witness. And he's seen some horrible things in his years of employment with S.H.I.E.L.D."
Alex frowned and stabbed at her steak viciously. It earned her a chuckle from the couple on the other side of the table. "With all due respect, Coulson. Fuck you."
"I'll consider it," the man said softly. Alex looked up and blinked, but there was nothing on his face to suggest he'd actually said anything. Hmmmm. She had to have imagined it. Maybe there was more alcohol in her fruity drink than she'd realized.
"Seriously, though." Miri went on as if none of the previous conversation had happened. "I really think we should do some touristy things. And I'd love to go see a coffee plantation. It is my fervent hope that I can get some fresh coffee beans. Come on, you guys. It could be fun! We can't stay squirreled away in the bungalows the whole time we're here."
"Speak for yourself," Alex and Clint chimed in together. Miri rolled her eyes and drove her fork into a pile of salad. After chewing on the crunchy greens and washing them down with a drink of water, she pointed at them with her fork.
"I'm going to show up inside your bungalow tomorrow morning before the sun is even up. I will get you up and I will shove you both into the shower myself if I have to. We need to do something other than lay around the bungalow and see how long it takes to break things." There was an edge of warning in her voice that told Alex she was serious. And Alex knew that Miri would do everything she said. And more. Up to and including climbing into the shower with her. And Clint. And... mmm. That presented lovely images that she liked far more than was probably wise.
Hmmm. That was twice now tonight. Once involving Coulson, who was essentially her boss, and once involving Miri, who was her best friend and the sister she'd never had. While these were not unpleasant thoughts - she'd long known there were parts of her that she had yet to fully explore and understand - and she didn't mind thinking them, she did think that perhaps they were a touch inappropriate to have about people she more or less considered family. She shot a look at her drink and wondered if maybe Clint had spiked it with a little more alcohol than was strictly necessary. It was probably time to switch to something that did absolutely nothing to her thought processes.
Clint sighed in resignation. He knew when he was beat. "Fine. We'll go see a coffee plantation tomorrow. Anything to keep you from barging in on us when we're sleeping or otherwise engaged."
"Excellent!" Miri chimed happily and returned her attention to her plate. Alex considered kicking Clint under the table, but there was no point. Better they face a coffee plantation than Miri waking them up against their will.
Yay. Tomorrow was going to be fun.
~*~