somethingtoavenge | Appointments

[Every Tuesday, Pepper and Phil have lunch. It’s a standing appointment from back home, and unless some unavoidable business meeting (in Pepper’s case) or horrific threat to world security (in Phil’s) got in the way, they kept that appointment without fail. So when the first Tuesday after Phil’s return to Luceti comes around, Pepper sends a message over the journal: Lunch at Seventh Heaven? 1pm? It feels wrong not to, even knowing that Phil still has questions Pepper hasn’t answered.

He says yes, and Pepper makes sure to arrive there promptly. They’re both punctual people, a trait which Pepper truly appreciates in Phil. When they’re seated, Pepper looks over her menu at the man across from her.]

So how are you settling in? [Small talk. Easy stuff to start.]

[That message from Pepper, on his first Tuesday back makes Phil smile and relief loosens the knot of tension in his chest. Things have changed yes, but there is still some normality.

Phil looks up from his menu as well when Pepper addresses him. The questions makes him thoughtful, but he replies soon enough.]

Well enough. I've decided to stay with Clint in his apartment, to keep him out of trouble. [To not be alone.] Some things are new, but I'm adjusting. [Mostly.]

Is he that much of a challenge? [She grins at the joke, but in truth she's glad for Phil. Having someone he works with here, who he can rely on so personally, will hopefully make Luceti a bit easier to bear for him.]

That's good to hear. Hopefully discovering your wings for the second time was a bit easier than the first?

Sometimes. He's a rather good danger magnet. [Coulson deadpans his reply, then grins slightly. But it is also true that Clint seems to attract trouble, and it is as much for Clint as it is for Coulson that they are rooming together.]

It certainly was once I remembered to fold them properly, though the Malnosso were not as kind as to leave me with a shirt this time around when I arrived.

[Coulson's voice is very dry when he mentions the Malnosso.]

[Pepper is a bit less happy to hear that particular tidbit—but all things considered, could anyone blame her?] Maybe you’ll figure out a way to break that habit, then.

[Or so she could hope.]

Well. There really isn’t much point in counting on the Malnosso for kindness. [His is dry, and hers is a bit bitter; the organization would’ve killed her and Tony both in the last draft, after all.]

[Phil hums slightly. Working for SHIELD hadn't broken Clint's danger magnet abilities, Luceti probably won't either.] Maybe. Working for SHIELD probably didn't help in any case.

[Working for SHIELD makes anyone a danger magnet.

Coulson notices the bitter tone and frowns worriedly.]

That is true... [Phil taps his fingers on the table thoughtfully for a moment.]

Pepper... I won't ask about what happened, but I hope you'll tell me. When you're ready.

[Because whatever happened it obviously was hard. Painful. Scary.

He gives her a small, friendly but faintly worried smile.]

So, How has the gallery been doing?

[He gives her the out she needs. All she has to do is take it.]

((ooc; Not sure in the middle of Seventh Heaven is a place Pepper would feel comfortably talking about what happened. So, we can have them talk later at Pepper's or Coulson apartment. IDK it's your choice, just giving some more options.))

Well, SHIELD being what it is, I don’t really expect that it would.  [Global spy network not attracting trouble.  Somehow Pepper doesn’t see it.

She realizes how she sounds when Phil frowns, and when he asks her to talk when she’s ready.  And that’s the catch, because Pepper isn’t sure she’ll ever be ready to talk about it.  But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need to, even if he’s kind enough to give her an out right then.]

You’ve heard about what happened on the draft.  [She glances around, then sighs quietly.  There’s no good place or time to talk about this.  But she’s decided to, so Pepper knows she just needs to say it.]

I got infected.

[Phil shrugs. If you work for SHIELD you were already a danger magnet before, working for SHIELD simply spreads the danger around more evenly.]

Yes... [This isn't going to be good.

At her revelation Phil pales, hands twitching in an aborted movement. Those are the only signs of shock that slip thorough his ridged control.

He lets out a long slow breath.]

What happened?

[Small tells are still tells, and it's the reaction she's come to expect besides. But that doesn't make it easier--watching Phil take it in, or being prompted to tell the story of how it happened again.

She stiffens, her gaze finally setting on a neutral spot in the center of the table. She tries to tell the story with as little emotion as possible, not wanting to get caught up in the horrible memories, but Pepper knows it's too much to hope for.]

Steve--Steve got infected too, and I went to see him. But he was already gone, and he got away from the people containing him. When Bucky stopped him, I was standing too close.

[Seeing Pepper stiffen up and not meet his eyes is painful but he gets it.

He had heard about Steve, and about Bucky but this. This was new.

Phil reaches across the table to take Pepper's hand. It's not like he can hug her in the middle of Seventh Heaven, but some physical reassurance is needed. For both of them at this point.]

And that's when you were infected. The blood must of been carrying the contagion.

[She manages a small smile when he takes her hand, squeezing his in return. The expression is short lived, however, and she nods.]

Yes. Any bodily fluid, according to the doctor, but--it was the blood.

[The splatter that she could still feel on her skin, in it, if she lets her mind linger on the thought too long.]

They gave me the proto-cure; it stopped the virus from deteriorating my mind, but not the other symptoms. So I wouldn't attack anyone.

[And it left her aware of everything that happened to her body.]

[If it had become normal for Coulson to curl up on Clint's bed overnight in cat form, well, there was no-one else around to see except Natasha sometimes and she just seemed to think it was adorable. Or possible blackmail material. Either way, it was kind of nice to be able to make sure he was okay, and to keep Lucky away from trying to get too friendly.

And if he sometimes wakes up snuggling the kitten like a plush toy, this is also not something they will ever mention.]

[Phil was quite content to share the bed with Clint as a cat. The other man was quite warm, which was nice, and it kept Lucky away, which was the bigger plus.

A little cuddling was nice too, though he banished that thought to be looked at later.

This morning seemed like any other morning. Coulson was the first to wake up, per usual. He blinked against the dim lighting, the newly familiar feeling of an arm over his chest and yawned. Rubbing at his eyes he considered getting up, but the groggy feeling of no coffee, sadly familiar now, made him stay, closing his eyes against the filtering red of the sun.

His brain kept ticking however.

Less than a minute later his eyes flew open and jerked his hand up to his face.
It was nice and human. Nice and human annnnnnd he was so very naked.

Okay, so body shy he is not, but full nudity is a it much in the morning. Especially next to a friendly assassin, who was easy to wake up and was expecting a kitten for Christ sake.

Shit.]

((ooc; yeah, idk. NAKED TIM-/tasered then beaten to death with paperwork))

[Unfortunately for Coulson, Clint, given someone he was comfortable enough to share a beg with, was a cuddler. It was a well guarded secret and Coulson would be experiencing that now; Clint curled close to him, head against his chest and an arm thrown over him.

Yeah, Clint is kinda heavy.

The movement though, that is enough to wake him sharply because no-one had gone to bed with him except a kitte and now there's someone there and...

He's got the gun drawn from the bedside table, the safety off and pointed at Coulson's head before he even has chance to wake up properly.]

[Coulson is indeed finding this out. Not that he minds, but it is rather interesting. And maybe it makes a bloom of warmth suffuse his chest, but that's no one's business but his own.

Not as heavy as other people who have fallen asleep on Coulson. He's not naming names however.

Phil barely breathes as Clint reacts, freezing instinctively. Inwardly he's cursing quietly in a several languages and mutter deprivations about the Malnosso. He is also very glad that Clint is only pointing the gun at him instead of pressing is against his head.

The moment stretches before Phil breaks it.]

It's me.

[His voice is sleep rusty, but infinetly familiar.]

Changed back.

[Still very naked.]

((ooc: Hey, now Clint can see his massive scar! Because we didn't quite get to that earlier. Or what not, up to you.))

[He doesn't stop just because Coulson speaks, keeps the gun trained on him, taking in every minute detail. Nudity doesn't bother him. He's shared showers with other guys before and Coulson has probably seen him naked in medical enough. His expression tightens when he sees that scar; it's ugly and huge, right across his chest over his heart.

He swallows thickly and finally pulls the gun away, sliding on the safety and setting it aside.]

Welcome back, boss.

[Phil is strangely pleased that Clint didn't just accept his word. Even if the gun till has him tense. Guns pointed at him generally make him tense, but it's a lot harder to see in his suit.

Of course, he sees the moment that Clint sees the scar, huge and ugly and healed. The matching one of the back is worse actually. Phil's not ashamed of his scar, but it does hurt a bit to see the impact it has on his friend.

The tension fades as Clint puts the gun aside.]

Good to be back.

[He pauses.]

Even if it's a bit chilly.

[He reaches out to touch that scar, morbid fascination maybe, but snatches his hand back as though burnt. You have heart. He pulls away quickly, looking a little pale, and moves to perch on the edge of the bed. He's wearing his boxers at least, but nothing else, and he gives Coulson a wry smile.]

Get under the covers. I'll grab you some clothes.

[Phil is surprised yet not when Clint makes to touch the scar. On some level he was rather expecting that. Clint reacting as if burnt, and becoming noticeable pale however, is rather a shock. Phil watches silently, brain churning rapidly, the faintest of frowns pulling at his deadpan expression.

He returns the wry smile and slips under the covers. It is still warm where Clint was, an interesting feeling but nice against his air-chilled skin.]

My workout clothes, if you will. And, thanks.

[He absently sits up against the pillows, pulling the covers up to cover his scar.]

[It's another reminder, something he did and he can never make up for that. Never.

He manages to hold it together at least and nods, pushing himself to his feet.]

Yeah, sure thing. I'll just be a minute.

[He heads out and along the hallway to Coulson's room, grabbing his things. He doesn't go straight back though. The sight of his stuff there in the room, that goddam scar...

He takes a few shuddering breaths, and leans back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. It takes him a few moments to gather himself and then he heads back to his bedroom, tossing Coulson his workout gear with a smile.]

Here. How are you feeling?

[If Phil knew what Clint was thinking he'd give him such a smack on the head.

Instead he ponders over Clint's reaction while the other man is gone, eventually reaching the correct conclusion. Phil sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

There isn't a lot he can do anymore to convince Clint that it wasn't his fault. At least not his death.

Phil puts those thoughts away to be contemplated when he's alone. He accepts the workout gear with a wry smile. He slips the shirt on first.]

Okay. It's a rather weird transition, even if this is my normal form. I think It'll take a moment to adjust.

[He goes to sit down on the edge of the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him. His gaze lingers on that scar for a moment before Coulson pulls the shirt on, covering it. It's a relief not to see it, and that makes him feel guilty as all hell.]

I bet it's weird. You were a cat, Coulson. That's never going to not be weird.

[It's late. Very late. Natasha knows better than to be sneaking into Clint and Coulson's apartment in the middle of the night (morning?), but... the thought of going back upstairs is the last thing she wants at the moment, because even her talk with Pepper hadn't chased the worst of the loneliness away. She doesn't intend to stay long, maybe just curl up on their couch for a a few hours, be gone again before Coulson stirs and finds her. Try to snatch an hour or two of sleep, which has been getting increasingly harder as the days wear on with no word from Clint. Or James. Or anyone else, although that is entirely her fault, since she's taken to avoiding everyone as a whole.

She manages to get all the way to the couch and curls up in one corner, grabbing one of the pillows and wrapping herself around it. She'd even missed those two squeaky boards that had given her away in previous attempts of infiltrating. The apartment seemed quiet, so maybe she'd been successful after all...

She wasn't sure if she was happy or disappointed about that.]

[Natasha's infiltration of the apartment was perfect. Not a single sound gave her away.

Still Phil became aware of another person in the apartment. He hadn't been asleep, in fact he hadn't been sleeping well for a few nights now.

Being awake at so-late-it's-early o'clock was not a new thing, though he had been managing to get regular nights sleep since arriving at Luceti. But since things went to hell after Valentine's day, well, sleep had become hard.

So the combination of sleepless nights, natural paranoia, and trained instinct made him aware that someone was in the apartment. Carefully getting up from his bed, where he had been running over possible battle dome scenario's, Phil silently exited his room.

He didn't make any sound either, well used to the peculiarities of the apartment. Silently on socked feet he entered the living room.

Familiar red hair was visible from over the back of the couch.

Phil gave a small smile at that, even as his heart clenched slightly. She was always welcome in the apartment, even when she was needing her own space. For one moment, he hesitated, unsure if his company would be allowed. He leaned against the wall by the hallway, not wanting to be closer if he startled her.]

Natasha.

[She doesn't jump at the sound of his voice. She'd felt him come into the room, even though she hadn't heard him, hadn't even had time to settle and relax completely and sleep was certainly still a long way off.

Her fingers tighten momentarily in the edge of the pillow she held and she gave a soft exhale, before tilting her head back to peer at him upside down, apologizing.]

I didn't mean to wake you.

[Another small smile at her lack of surprise crossed Phil's face. When she didn't immediately react he started to walk towards the couch.

He shrugged at her comment, before walking around the couch to stand in front.]

I wasn't asleep.

[Yup, at so-very-late-it's-very-early o'clock Phil was wide awake. Tired, but so very awake.

Phil paused in a brief moment of indecision before sitting at the other end of the couch. He tucked his feet up and under, sitting indian style on the couch, his back against the arm, as he faced her.

A slightly awkward silence falls, as Phil is unsure what to say, or ask, or even if he is allowed to ask after the whole... thing.]

[She watches him as he sinks down opposite her, her green eyes studying him, noting how tired he looks and she feels guilt at that, because she wonders if she helped cause it. When he sits, she shifts to face him, still hugging the pillow against her chest, her legs tucked under her.

She's the one to break the silence, not as uncomfortable in it, but she can tell he doesn't know what to say, so she does.]

Not sleeping?

[Unfortunately the guilt is kind of on her shoulders. But it's also kind of on Clint's and kind of on his own. Not that he's going to blame her, but that doesn't make it any less true. Even if he refuses to acknowledge that.

Phil shrugs again, hunting down the second couch pillow. It's half under the couch which makes him raise an eyebrow. But he bends over and takes it out, placing it on his lap and ends up idly tracing nonsensical designs on the fabric.]

Not really.

[~~This has sleepover vibes. Let's paint our nails and talk about boys!~~]

[She ducks her gaze at that, staring at the open space on the couch between them, falling silent for a moment before speaking again.]

Should I... apologize?

[Phil blinks in surprise.]

What for?

[Yes, he is genuinely confused by that. Even if he subconsciously knows she's partially at fault he can't bring himself to blame her consciously. Because what he feels isn't as important as making sure everyone else is okay.]

For... everything. What happened. And what happened after. [She flicks a glance up at him a moment, her green gaze steady despite the way her fingers picked restlessly at the edge of her pillow.]

I'm sorry I've been scarce. Clint leaving like he did... I hadn't expected that. it threw me.

[Followed directly by a conversation with James she'd really never wanted to have. Two strikes and she wasn't sure she wanted to face anyone else for awkward or angry fallout for a good long time. Then again, she was running out of people who mattered enough to lose.]

Ah.

[What happened, well, that's a blame that can be placed on his shoulders. What happened after... that is definitely shared by everyone. Though Coulson in the end hadn't minded it was apparent they did.

Phil doesn't say anything to her apology for being scarce. After Clint leaving like the hounds of hell were at his heels, the additional vanishing act of Natasha had actually been hurtful. But he had pushed it down, recognizing her need to figure things out on her own.]

...I wasn't expecting it either.

[Phil finds himself unable to meet her eyes, looking at his work-worn hands.

For a man who quietly prided himself in understanding his agents, that had probably been the hardest blow. Or rather first of many hard blows to a rather fragile feeling of hope and contentment.]

((ooc; Hello StoicWoobie!Phil. I was wondering if you'd show up.pets him))

[Natasha's shoulders curl inwards slightly at that, a hint of defensiveness in her posture, a flinch in her gaze as it drops to the couch again.]

Even with the warnings from everyone, I wasn't anticipating... Maybe I should have.

[It's not as if this were the first time someone had played with her head, with her emotions. Set her up for... this. It wasn't as if it made it any easier and the scars and hurts still cut just as deep.

Deeper, maybe, because these were people she trusted. They were everything.]

[While Phil wasn't meeting her gaze, her certainly could still see her slight movements. For a moment her was torn as to what he should do. Still, she was here, which means she was done avoiding him, so perhaps...

Phil shifted on the couch, until he was near but not touching Natasha, back against the back of the couch. There was another moment of hesitation before he placed an arm around her, oh so carefully. He gave a comforting squeeze.]

No. You're still human, you can't anticipate everything.

[Unfortunately.

Phil is quiet a moment, before squeezing her shoulder again. When he talks it's quiet and slightly hesitant.]

You know, I meant what I said. You both are very important to me...

[Even if marriage was a bit weird, there is no one else he'd rather come home to. There was no one more important to him than Clint and Natasha.]

[She almost tenses when his arm wraps around her - more habit and instinct than any real conscious act. But this is Coulson and she trusts him and if anyone could get close enough to do this, he's one of the few people on a very short list. In fact, it feels rather good, something she's actually been missing in the aftermath of all those warm wonderful feelings and the abrupt loss of it. And if she ends up settling in a little closer to him when he gives her shoulder a squeeze... well, she trusts he won't tell anyone.]

I'm usually just better at it.

[She glances over at him at his soft admission, her green eyes searching his face intently a moment before she gives him a small smile.]

I know that. I've known it for a while. It's mutual, you know.

[Thank god she didn't tense. That would have been disastrous at this point in time, with both approaching an almost fragile state.

Natasha choosing to settle a little closer eases some of the knots in his chest, the ones that had been there since Clint's quick exit and her avoidance.]

So am I. But well, here we are.

[Both hurting and puzzled.

Phil closes his eyes in relief before looking at Natasha again. There may be a suspicious sheen to his eyes.]

Oh good.

[He leans his head to rest against hers, unspeakably relieved and touched.]

So, it doesn't change anything, right?

[She tilts her head in to rest against his and she's grateful for this, the simple comfort of it.

She gives a quiet laugh at his question, but there's something fragile in the sound.]

I don't know. I hope not. It would be nice to have something left after all that.

[They are both rather fragile at this point, if quietly so.

Phil hums quietly.]

Nothings changed on my end.

[It's a quiet but firm statement. You could build houses on that statement and they would last through any flood. It is A Truth.

A truth he will hold even if it hurts him. Even if they hurt him. It wouldn't be new, but it's a hurt he would weather. For them, to be there when they needed him. And to watch them when they didn't.]

[She gives him a crooked smile at that and a hint of it makes it all the way to her eyes.]

Not filing the transfer paperwork just yet then, Sir?

Appointments

November 13, 12:30pm, [Action]

November 13, 12:30pm, [Action]

Re: November 13, 12:30pm, [Action]

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November 13, 12:30pm, [Action]

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November 13, 12:30pm, [Action]

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November 13, 12:30pm, [Action]

Re: November 13, 12:30pm, [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action] So i heard you like LATE. /facepalm

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

February 27 | [Action]

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