(no subject)
Coulson was finally alone. He hadn't entirely expected to come back alive, and SHIELD certainly hadn't. Fury had spent ten hours with him, first next to his hospital bed, then in an interrogation room, and finally across from him at a table in the cafeteria. Phil had been poked, prodded, questioned. It hadn't bothered him much at first - he was alive, and what more could he ask for? But eight hours into it, the thrill had worn off somewhat.
Nine hours in, an agent called Fury to the doorway. When Fury came back, he said, "I just saw Barton last night. Suddenly he's backing you up on everything."
And for the next hour, Fury only stared at him as Phil explained about the Time-Space Continuum.
Finally, Coulson was left to himself in one of the Helicarrier bedrooms. If it could be called a room - it was more like a closet. He sank onto the bed, tired to the core, but that didn't stop him from standing when he heard a knock at the door. He got to his feet, his stride showing no sign of tiredness as he pulled open the door.
"Sir." Clint moved inside, and Phil closed the door behind him.
-
Phil would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed how everyone gave him a wide berth the next morning. Fury and Hill didn't move away from him, but Hill visibly tensed when he drew near. Phil found excuses to cross over to her side of the room several times; Clint had evidently been a bad influence.
Returning to the database scanner with a doughnut and a cup of coffee, Phil got his notebook ready and started searching. At least he no longer had to worry about Natasha or how her loss affected Clint; she was on a mission in Cambodia, and Clint had talked with her for several hours that morning before she had to hang up and deal with some insurgents. She'd called back when she was done three minutes later, and after yet more references to Budapest that Clint seemed to think Phil still didn't get, Clint had hung up and gone to look up Steve and Tony and Bruce.
Of course, Clint had called dibs on the easy ones.
-
Canada in October wasn't as cold as Clint had imagined it would be. But it was also more Kenzi-less than he'd thought it would be. "Sure you got the address right, sir?"
It must have been difficult for Clint to catch Phil's side-eye through Phil's sunglasses, so Phil side-eyed harder. "According to her friends, she left with a very pale, thin man dressed in black and green, with a cane. She was here."
Clint scowled.
"She'll turn up. Not even Loki can keep Kenzi somewhere Kenzi doesn't want to be. Not without regretting it."
-
Veronica knew she had freaked out her dad when she'd woken up in the middle of the night and immediately run into his room to hug him. She hadn't wasted any time in revising her plans, either. Somehow, she'd wound up in her junior year of college, and she found that while she'd been battling monsters and magic, she'd also been tackling a bus of murdered classmates and several other cases. Apparently, she'd also lived through some superhero stuff and watched New York get attacked on TV.
That night, she googled SHIELD but found nothing. Phil Coulson didn't turn up much, either. Three name matches, none of them her boss. Clint Barton turned up a myspace page that hadn't been updated since a year after myspace was popular. Tony Stark, though. That one was easy. She called and got reception. "Hi, my name is Veronica Mars, calling for Tony Stark." Asked whether she had an appointment, she said, "Oh, an appointment? Like... SHIELD, Loki, Phil Coulson?" Done with the key words that would tip off any eavesdropping SHIELD agents, she bit her thumb. "I wanted to talk to him about my mom. It turns out I might be his biological daughter?" She was transferred to the legal department and hung up before anyone answered.
The next day was something of a let-down. No SHIELD agents had confronted her at school, and her one class hadn't been enough to keep her occupied. After struggling to find a way home for so long, figuring out how long it took bodies to decompose seemed like a joke, and she didn't even need half the class period to answer the questions on the pop quiz.
Still finding nothing at her apartment, she took Backup out for a run. She really wanted to fight something, if only for training. What would Weevil thing if she attacked him with her thighs?
She dropped the keys in the dish by the door when she got back, unhooking Backup's leash.
"Don't tell me you're already forgetting everything I taught you." Phil leaned back faintly, finding Veronica's foot inches from his nose. "Better. Though you should really clean those shoes." And then Veronica was hugging him tightly, and he hugged her back. "Still interested in a job?"
"Hell yes, I am!" She pulled away with a frown. "Where's Clint? Is he in the vents? Here? Seriously?" Weren't their vents too small for that?
"No," Clint called from her bedroom. "But I have a question, Ronnie. How often do you wear these?" He held a pair of black lace panties out the door, and Veronica flushed.
"BARTON. Out of my room!"
Clint stepped out, dropping the underwear back inside. "Okay, okay." He wondered if she would notice that he'd taken a sketch she'd drawn of a pony to add to his collection.
Phil held his hands clasped loosely before him as he watched Veronica go to put her underwear away. He gave Clint a knowing look. The door had just opened when Phil got a phone call, and he held up a finger to the man who came in - evidently Veronica's father.
"Hi," Clint said.
"Hi," Keith said, his tone wry. "Mind telling me what you're doing in my apartment?"
"Dad! Dad. Cool the beans. Uh. This is Clint. That's Phil. I was kind of in an alternate universe with them."
"You were what?"
Veronica tried not to see the alarm on her dad's face. "Yeah. You know. Bubble theory is a thing. I'll explain it later."
Phil pocketed his phone. "Some supes are attacking the diamond district in LA. Iron Man is en route. Steve says he'll pick up Bruce on the way. V, you in?" At her thumbs up, he turned to Keith. "You can reach me at this number. I'll try to have her home by her bedtime."
Keith stared at the card in his hand. "I don't think you understand, that's my daughter."
"We'll have her back by-" Clint glanced at Veronica. "When's your bedtime? Six?"
Veronica punched him in the arm and grabbed her jacket. "Dad. I'll talk to you later. But for now, a job with massive benefits calls."
Phil didn't bother closing the door behind them. "Helicarrier first. Clint, you're going to LA. V, these aren't natural supes. You get to break into the factory where we think their 'roids are being manufactured. Bruce will help walk you through it. I'll be the eyes in the sky." He couldn't risk something happening to his suit, after all.