out_there | AoS Fic: Appreciated (But Unnecessary)

Title: Appreciated (But Unnecessary)
Fandom: Agents of SHIELD/Avengers
Pairing: Clint/Coulson
Word Count: 946
Notes: Thanks to

laylee for beta-reading.

Summary: "I can call back," Phil offers. They're going to be grounded in Stockholm for the next few days, waiting on repairs to the Short Bus - an unfortunate name that has stuck, despite Phil's personal distaste for it. Phil has nothing but time on his hands, and a request to testify that hasn't been answered. (Post AoS 1.04 Eye Spy.)

First, Phil finishes the paperwork. He reviews everyone's mission reports, from Skye's enthusiastic retelling of the daring escape to Melinda's dry, accurate assessment of the risks involved. Ward and Simmons' reports are professional with a strong focus on the tech used. Fitz is the only one Phil has to email with a few phrases highlighted and a request to reconsider his wording.

The sentence: "We had to remove a human eye. Did I mention the ew factor? Ew. Ew to the power of infinity," should not be part of a SHIELD mission report. In an informal debrief? Fine. Within filed paperwork? No. Phil has to maintain some standards amongst this misbegotten team.

When he has an acceptable collection of mission reports, Phil prepares the overview and files the electronic copies with HQ. The hard copies are printed and filed in Phil's office to be archived when it's convenient.

After that, Phil sits. He'd like to sleep but he knows himself well enough to know it's unlikely. The rest of the team aren't sleeping either. Fitz and Simmons are in the lab, trying to reverse-engineer the eye, which would be an easier job if the kill switch hadn't destroyed most of it. Melinda and Ward are sparring in the gym, while Skye hides out in the SUV. They're all a little unsettled by recent events.

Against his better judgment, Phil picks up his phone.

"Hey," he says when Clint picks up, and gets a hushed "Gimme a sec," in reply.

Phil waits silently until Clint comes back on the line.

"Sorry," Clint says, "Movie theatre."

"I can call back," Phil offers. They're going to be grounded in Stockholm for the next few days, waiting on repairs to the Short Bus - an unfortunate name that has stuck, despite Phil's personal distaste for it. Phil has nothing but time on his hands, and a request to testify that hasn't been answered.

Phil has nothing against Stockholm. He just wishes it was NYC.

"It's cool," Clint says, even though Phil's clearly interrupting. "Nat says hi."

"Tell her I miss her too." Phil does. He misses all of the Avengers in some way, even Stark - as unlikely as that is. He doesn't miss Clint; miss isn't a big enough word for yearning ache caught behind his ribs.

There's an ugly silence. It stretches too long. Phil knew he shouldn't have called. Hearing Clint's voice isn't enough right now. He doesn't want to sit in an empty room holding a phone; he wants to reach out and hold on and feel a little more human. "Go back to your movie. I'll call later."

"What happened?"

Phil really wishes he was in New York right now. "We found Akela," he says softly.

"Amador? Seriously?" Clint's surprise softens into tact. "Alive?"

"Alive and--" Phil pauses, reconsidering. "She's in custody now. Awaiting trial."

There are a lot of things Phil loves about Clint: his determination, his bravery, the big heart he's never quite managed to guard against the world. His sense of humour and his ability to see what so many people don't. But right now, he loves Clint for this moment of silence. For the things he doesn't say. Like that Phil was right to be suspicious of the reported death, or that Phil should have looked harder. He doesn't ask the details of how bad it could have been because there are risks in their line of work and they both know it.

There isn't anything that could be said. There isn't anything that would make this less awful or stop the formless, uncertain regrets that Phil will have to learn to accept. She wasn't just one of them. She was one of Phil's agents.

He's always hated leaving someone behind.

"Where are you?" Clint asks, and Phil's grateful for the change in topic.

"Stockholm, waiting on vehicle repairs. No matter where you are in the world, no mechanic ever has all the parts needed. I think there's a union rule somewhere."

"Possibly," Clint agrees, and there's a blaring car horn behind him.

"What happened to the movie?"

"I'm heading back to the tower. Does it count as stealing the Quinjet if I'm totally going to return it?"

"Go back and watch your movie."

"It was Adam Sandler. I'm not missing anything."

"The gesture is appreciated, but it's not necessary."

"If it makes you sleep better, pretend my only motive is to find my Christmas presents," Clint says, and Phil has a sudden image of the red bows on this year's gift. Clint won't find it. There's no way Melinda would let him in the cockpit long enough. "But within an hour, I'll be in the air and I'm coming over there."

Phil considers his options. Clint's stubborn but if Phil said no, Clint wouldn't come. He wouldn't be happy about it, but he'd trust Phil's call.

The Quinjet should be near the Avengers Tower, but given how many of the Avengers can fly and the combined forces of SHIELD and Tony Stark, transport is unlikely to be a problem. Fury prefers the Avengers to stay in the same city but everyone's entitled to a break from the group dynamic occasionally.

"I'll tell Melinda you're coming." Phil agrees because he wants to. Because it won't lead to catastrophe, and Clint's offering. Because he wants to wrap his arms around Clint's shoulders and close his eyes, and remember that most of his agents make it home. Sometimes they don't. Sometimes he pushes too hard and too far, sometimes he makes the wrong call, but not always and not often. "Fly safely."

"Don't I always?"

"I'm not dignifying that with a response."