2012

"Hey Legolas. Now that I know the reason you're not into your redheaded partner, I gotta ask it. How in the hell did you convince Stone Cold Coulson to date you?" Tony questioned, plopping down on the couch next to his friend.

"I did wonder about that…" Steve said from his other side. Thor nodded his agreement from across from them and even Bruce looked up from his experiment. Clint spared them all an amused look, opening his mouth, he prepared to speak.

"You don't have a high enough classification for that information Stark." Phil entered the room, startling everyone, but not surprising Clint in the slightest.

"What?" Tony shook his head, "That's stupid." Natasha entered the room, shrugging.

"Even I don't know that story Stark. And I'm almost triple your classification level." She eyed Phil. "Although I am curious…" she trailed off suggestively. Phil shook his head.

"No such luck!" Clint chirped for him. Tony shrugged.

"Jarvis, do me a favor-"

"Fine Stark. We will tell you an abbreviated version of the story." Phil cut him off with an efficiency that was well practiced. Clint raised an eyebrow.

"Really, the whole story?" Phil stared at him for a moment.

"So long as it's okay with you." He said softly. Clint shrugged.

"I don't care. I'm good now…so, it's fine." He declared, then with a clap, he leaned forward, getting in story teller mode. "So, it all started on a dark and dreary night about ten years ago…"

"It wasn't really dark and dreary."

"Shut up Phil. I'm telling it!"

2002

"Agent Coulson, thank you for coming." Coulson nodded, sitting down across from his superior. Fury flipped through his paperwork, before sliding some of it across the table. "I have a mission for you."

"I figured." Coulson said dryly. He flipped through the papers, eyes widening just the slightest bit. "Really Director? You think this would be a good case for me?" he questioned honestly and Fury snorted.

"Yes. I think you're the only man for the job. Sitwell, Hill, and many others have all attempted and failed this mission. I apparently have to turn to my best man for the job." Fury leaned back in his seat, "You've only been in this yet unnamed agency for a few years and already you're the only one I can guarantee to get the job done." Coulson nodded, not in an arrogant way, but recognizing the truth in his statement.

"I'll try my best." He stood, flipping the file closed to look at later. Fury nodded back to him. Coulson waited.

"That is all I ask." Fury dismissed him with a wave to the door.

As Coulson exited Fury's office, Hill caught up to him. She gave him a slight smile. "So, Director Fury told you the news I assume?" Coulson nodded. She shook her head. "Good luck. I attempted to catch him with no success." Hill shook her head, "He is not only the best hitman, but he leaves blatant hints as to where he has gone and what he is doing at all times. The arrows through the heart of his victims leave a bloody, obvious trail. Yet, he is always able to slip away." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just a warning, expect tricks from him. He is a horrible, sneaky trickster." Coulson raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm sure he's not that bad, excluding the killing. I think you may have a bias." Coulson pointed out, obviously slightly amused. Hill narrowed her eyes at him.

"Fine. Don't believe me. When you try and track him down, you'll see." She swore, "I don't think that anyone will ever be able to catch Hawkeye."

"Venti black coffee." Phil tossed the man a ten, leaving him the change. Sitting down in the same chair he always sat in, he waited. It was just a matter of time.

He didn't fail.

The grin sent his way made Phil smirk into his coffee cup and when the other male slid into the chair opposite of him, he gave him a small nod.

"So. How was work?" Clint asked conversationally, sipping on his latte. Phil was an art curator at the local museum, although he never seemed to be there when Clint tried to find him. Phil nodded.

"Good. As interesting as staring at old paintings all day could be." Phil raised an eyebrow, "And you?" Clint worked as a TV producer for some trashy reality show. Clint snickered.

"It wasn't his baby!" he gasped fakely and Phil shook his head, chuckling. They sipped their coffee in silence for a few moments. Clint took a deep breath.

"You know what Phil? I think we should go out." Clint finally said, then continued as he realized how that sounded, "I mean, we meet here after work every day, and we have for months now. We should go somewhere else to hang out. How about we go to dinner?" Clint almost hit himself as he realized, again, how that sounded.

"Okay." Phil said, blasé, before Clint could correct himself. Clint's eyes widened hopefully. He opened his mouth, "Like a date." Phil clarified before he could ask and Clint's grin widened even more.

"Cool." Clint stood, tossing out his empty coffee cup. "So…tomorrow night?" he questioned eagerly. Phil hesitated. His job always called for him to take random hours…but he would try to make it.

"Yes. At Sardi's." Phil stood, also tossing out his trash. "Six o'clock." They stared at each other for a few moments, before Clint grinned, and Phil gave him half smile.

With that, they exited the coffee shop, eager for tomorrow.

R & R.