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Post by Agent Phil Coulson on Jan 31, 2013 13:16:28 GMT -5
Phil was happy to be back at work again. Fury had kept him first out of the office, then on straight desk duty for months. But now he'd be going back into the field again, as soon as there was a reason for being in the field.
In the meantime, he had paperwork to work on. And apparently being almost dead meant he had to recertify for all his weapons qualifications. So, in a little while he'd go down to the weapons range and get that taken care of.
But right now, Phil was just happy to be working. He loved his job and he did it well. Those months he'd been forced to stay in bed were some of the worst of his life. He wasn't meant for civilian life. He just wasn't. He was a combat alpha. It was what he was built for. He wore suits and dealt well with bureaucracy, but when it came down to it he felt a driving need to be in the field, protecting his operatives. His team. His Pack. They were his, and he needed to look out for them. Especially Barton and Romanoff. But even Stark and Banner had won places in his heart. He felt compelled to protect the team.
He was happy to be back at his job again.
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Post by Clint Barton on Feb 1, 2013 22:04:28 GMT -5
Clint was crawling through the narrow space between the drop ceiling and the actual ceiling. He wanted to see if it was really true that Coulson was back in his old office. Sure, he'd managed to visit a few times when Fury hadn't kept him on missions with an asshole of a replacement handler, but it wasn't the same as seeing Phil in his work space.
He army crawled a little further and lifted one of the panels to check if he was in the right place. He was, and there was the agent working on paperwork. He grinned and gently set the panel back in place before he scooted back a bit so he could swing down behind Phil, landing almost silently on his feet behind the agent. Clint leaned forward slowly, trying to peak at what his handler was working on.
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Post by Agent Phil Coulson on Feb 1, 2013 22:16:07 GMT -5
"Hawkeye," Coulson said, not looking up from his paperwork. "Yes, it's true, I'm back. Did you miss me?"
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Post by Clint Barton on Feb 1, 2013 22:38:09 GMT -5
"Like you wouldn't believe, sir." Clint moved to sit on the clear space to one side of Coulson's desk. "The handler Fury gave me... It wasn't a good time." A slight shudder ran through him, remembering what it had been like.
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Post by Agent Phil Coulson on Feb 1, 2013 22:43:43 GMT -5
"Well, now you've got me again." Phil set the paperwork down on his desk and stood up. "I've got to go recertify for my weapons clearance. Want to walk me down to the shooting range?"
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Post by Clint Barton on Feb 1, 2013 22:49:51 GMT -5
"Yeah I do," Clint said with a hint of a smirk, tone just shy of actually being suggestive. "Sure thing." He slid away from the desk and toward the door, a barely noticeable limp hinting at an injury to his right leg even though he hid it well. Clint opened the door and gestured the agent through. "Glad to be back?"
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Post by Agent Phil Coulson on Feb 1, 2013 23:32:46 GMT -5
"Absolutely. I thought I was going to go insane, kept on medical leave so long. But now I'm back," Phil grinned. It was easy to be in Clint's company. They walked down the long hall to the elevator.
"How bad was my temporary replacement?" Coulson asked, when they were alone in the elevator.
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Post by Clint Barton on Feb 1, 2013 23:37:05 GMT -5
He leaned up against the wall, hands on the railing at waist height. "Wanted to cut his balls off." It came out as more of a growl than Clint had intended, but he really hadn't gotten along with Coulson's replacement agent. Fury had been out of it, Clint knew and understood that, but he shouldn't have saddled Clint with someone so horrible. Clint couldn't look directly at Coulson, not wanting to talk about just how bad it had actually been.
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Post by Agent Phil Coulson on Feb 1, 2013 23:42:38 GMT -5
"Do I need to kill him?" Coulson asked quietly, as he pressed the button for the armory level. He'd known Barton for years now, and could tell something happened that Clint didn't want to tell him. His omega was upset, and Phil could not abide that.
They may not be bonded, but as far as Coulson was concerned, Clint was his, and anyone who fucked with him needed to be put down.
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Post by Clint Barton on Feb 1, 2013 23:47:40 GMT -5
"Nothin' so major as that, Phil," Clint replied softly. "I'm just really glad to have you back." He looked over to meet Coulson's eyes finally. He was sure that Coulson must see the naked honesty there, the relief at having Coulson back as his handler and need that he refused to voice open on his face.
Clint desperately wanted Coulson to stop the elevator, to grab hold of him and maybe they could scent each other, but he wouldn't do it himself, wouldn't ask for it because in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters Clint just wouldn't allow himself the weakness of it.
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Post by Agent Phil Coulson on Feb 1, 2013 23:54:15 GMT -5
Coulson could sense something in Clint. It had been too long since they'd been alone together. At the very least, Coulson couldn't smell himself on Clint at all, and couldn't stand it. They were at work, and a proper scent-marking would take too long, and be inappropriate for a public scenario. So Phil settled for setting his large hand on Clint's shoulder, lightly rubbing the side of Clint's neck with his thumb.
"Today, after I've finished with work, I'm going with you to Stark Towers. Then I'm going to scent-mark you for as long as it takes until you smell like me again."
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Post by Clint Barton on Feb 1, 2013 23:59:15 GMT -5
Clint let out a hitching breath at the touch. Coulson's hand was like a hot iron brand (and Clint knew the feeling well, sad to say), and he leaned into the touch without even thinking about it. He could smell Coulson, clean and warm and so like home to Clint that he wasn't sure how he'd managed without that scent all over him, and his eyes fell shut without his permission.
He gave a small affirmative nod. "Fuck yes," he murmured, breath all but gone as he tried to savor the hit of Coulson's scent he'd gotten when he moved that little bit closer to touch him. "As long as it takes."
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Post by Agent Phil Coulson on Feb 2, 2013 0:03:01 GMT -5
"But not during work hours," Coulson said. He squeezed the back of Clint's neck gently, and then stepped away slightly.
"But after I go shoot a bunch of targets in the bullseye, I can take an early lunch. Hell, I can probably knock off work early today since I'm so fresh off medical leave."
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Post by Clint Barton on Feb 2, 2013 0:10:53 GMT -5
Clint grinned and slowly reached up to brush fingers lightly over where Coulson had touched his skin. He could still feel the lingering weight of the alpha's hand on him, the heat from his touch. His blue eyes shown a bit brighter than before, closer to how they should be, and his breathing was still shallow.
"Hurry, but be accurate, yeah? Need you." He added the last as barely a breath, like he hadn't meant to say it at all.
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Post by Agent Phil Coulson on Feb 2, 2013 0:14:10 GMT -5
"Always," Coulson promised, then stepped out of the elevator. He needed to go get this done.
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