Archive of Our Own

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS COULSON?!" Rumlow's voice echoed through the pit.

Phil sighed as the vehicle that Rumlow had just been removed from took off. "He's the owner, what do you expect me to do?"

Rumlow was in his face within moments, and he saw one of his staff slip out of the room. "I don't have to take this Coulson, I'm a respected driver! I have other offers! You think I haven't been approached, well I have, but I've stayed loyal!"

"I'm well aware of your qualifications," Phil said, itching to pull the headset on, because Stark was out there without his support right now. He reminded himself that it was just practice on their own testing track. "I understand your frustration."

"Frustration?! He just booted me from the car!" Rumlow roared. "This was supposed to be my car!"

"I'm aware of that," Phil said. "Tony is eccentric, we both know that."

"This is such bullshit, Coulson and you know it!" Rumlow yelled.

"Brock," Pepper said.

Brock Rumlow twitched in surprise, turning to find Pepper in the doorway. Phil's eyes narrowed, Had she unbuttoned her shirt slightly?

"What is Tony thinking?!" Pepper said. "He's not qualified to drive that car."

"No, he's not," Brock said.

"He certainly doesn't have his license for it," Pepper said. "We'd be disqualified so fast if this was an official race."

"You would be," Rumlow agreed, calming down slightly.

"I can't imagine how you must feel; let's talk about how we can make this right," Pepper said. Brock glanced back at him, before heading toward Pepper.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief as they left the room. Happy leaned in. "You good?"

"Yeah," Phil said.

"Thought he was going to take a swing at you."

"Surprised he didn't," Phil said, pulling his headset up. He toggled the mic on and growled into it. "What the fuck are you doing, Stark?!"

"Rumlow is over his hissy fit already?" Stark asked.

"Pepper's talking to him which means she left you to me. I repeat, what the fuck are doing?"

"Brock likes to complain that something is wrong, but never actually tells us what is wrong," Tony said.

Phil sighed. "You're going to push him and he's going to take another deal."

"Where is he going to go?" Tony asked, starting to walk away.

"He's a good driver," Phil said. "Other drivers have quit for less." Maybe he should find one of those youtube videos about all the times drivers switched team in F1.

*

Taking a sip of his drink, Phil sighed.

"Okay, that's like the fifth sigh," Nick said. "You said, things were and I quote 'Fine.' Have you become a white woman?"

"No," Phil said. "Bucky's hurt."

"I know, you've been scrambling to hire a new back up driver, but finding someone that can put up with both Stark's and Rumlow's ego is a challenge."

"Well, that'll be easier, Rumlow just announced he was changing teams."

Nick paused. "No shit?"

"So now we have no driver and the season starts…" Phil shook his head and grabbed his drink. "I don't know what we're going to do."

"Rumlow is off the team completely?"

"Yes, and Stark has made it clear that if he leaves this close to the start of the season, he's not welcome back."

Fury's grin was slow. "Well, that's good news."

"How is that good news?"

"It means I can bring in the kid," Fury said.

Phil paused. "You had a potential driver and you weren't bringing them in."

Fury gave him a long look. "Because the kid only works with one trainer and that trainer would have broken Rumlow's fingers or nose."

Phil blinked. "Female trainer?"

"Yep, pretty little thing," Fury said. "She's defensive about Barton and you know how Rumlow likes to put down the back up drivers. Barton might also jump in, if he thought Rumlow made a crack about her."

"One defends the other?"

"It's how when they look like they're ready to murder the person that insults you, you know you're in with them."

"How are they going to handle Tony?"

"Tony's insults are love tests, he pokes and needles to make sure that you still like him. Rumlow… Rumlow is an asshole that should never have been hired."

"Rumlow is an excellent driver."

"Rumlow is about Rumlow, and, while the driver gets the most spotlight, the driver has to know he wouldn't be there without a whole bunch of other people. That's Barton."

"I've never heard of him," Phil said, leaning back.

"He's Indycar, but he's qualified for the super license with a third place and two fourth overall in the last three years," Fury paused. "He has the license."

Phil frowned. "What aren't you telling me?"

"He gets test anxiety, his scores suck, but he passed."

Phil nodded. "Alright, let's set up a meeting."

*

Clint should not be out drinking before a big meeting, but damn it Stark Racing would be a dream come true and they were down both their racers. He'd lucked right into a starting position in Formula 1. Clint sipped his beer as eyed the crowd. It would help him sleep, and it was either going to be drinking or wearing himself out. He'd much rather it be something fun than running on a treadmill or swimming laps in the hotel pool. There was only so much running in place a guy could take. One guy, he'd hit on one guy and if that didn't work, he'd attempt to swim laps.

There, Clint decided, that one. He'd make a pass at that one and if he failed, well then he probably deserved having to swim laps.

He grabbed his drink and made his way over to a man that looked more like a pencil pusher. The other man was nursing a glass of what looked like whiskey. Clint put on his best flirty smile.

"Hey."

The man regarded him with cool blue eyes and just a touch of glare.

Clint stood his ground; if the man was going to reject him, he could do it verbally.

Then those eyes dipped, running over Clint's body. "Phil."

"Clint. What brings you out?"

The man sighed. "Work headaches."

"Bad?" Clint asked, sliding into the seat across from him.

"It means hiring. I hate interviewing people." Phil took a sip of his drink.

"I mean, it's no fun being on the other side of the table either," Clint said, taking a sip of his own. He was ever so grateful that he'd have both Natasha and Nick with him tomorrow.

Phil snorted. "Where's the AI that I can input what I need and they spit out a name of someone that will fit in perfectly?"

Clint snorted. "I don't know, computers aren't always that smart. There's a lot of little things that make a group mesh well."

"I know and the new hire will have to be better than the one that just quit."

"Asshole?"

"I didn't say it."

Clint held his hands up and nodded.

"What brings you out?"

"I have a case of nerves, so I have two choices - I either get drunk or I work myself into exhaustion."

Phil studied him. "You're not getting married right?"

"No! Definitely not. Why would…? Seriously?"

Phil shrugged. "For some reason, I've been the choice of multiple men's last hurrah before getting married to a woman."

"No? Really?"

Phil nodded, solemnly.

"How'd you know?"

"One of them mentioned it as they were leaving afterwards. A second had a friend who mentioned it before we left - I slipped out when I realized what their conversation was about, and the third was interrupted by the bride herself."

"Tell me she dumped him?"

"He promised he'd stop drinking, and it was the alcohol that made him do it."

Clint's nose wrinkled upwards. "Lady, no."

"If I knew who they were I might have called one of my lawyer friends to do a pre-nup because I highly doubt she had one."

"Aw, that'd be a great gift for that couple or coupons for a divorce attorney."

Phil chuckled. "I've learned to make sure and you mentioned nerves."

"Not a wedding, there's no one like that in my life. It's something big for me and the friends I call my family."

Phil paused. "Vague."

Clint shrugged. "I've been told not to talk about it and if you get me going on the subject, I will bore you to tears."

"Passionate?"

"Only one way to live is to do what you love."

"So you're here, looking for exercise?"

Clint grinned. "Yeah, but I promised myself I'd give one partner a try, then I'd go swim laps or run on a treadmill."

"Those don't sound very fun."

"Because they aren't especially the treadmill. So, Partner?"

Phil sighed. "You sound like you're asking me to work with you for a science experiment back in high school."

"I'm sorry, Phil, may I try again?"

"Please."

"Phil, will you save me from having to essentially jog in place with no change of scenery, by fucking me senseless? Help Me Obi-Phil Kenobi, you're the only cock."

Phil's eyes narrowed. "I think I hate you for butchering such a classic line like that."

"I'm good with hate sex."

"Yeah," Phil said, draining the last of his whiskey. "I got that impression."

*

Clint trailed behind Nick and Natasha as they entered Stark Racing. The building was clean and full of curves that reminded Clint of tracks. There were models of old cars and Clint fell further behind as he stared at them, taking a moment to take place the year each car came from and who had driven it. He wondered if Stark kept some of the old vehicles; he'd heard contrasting stories about the owner.

He paused in front of the first car designed by Howard Stark himself along with Isadore Cohen for Happy Sam Sawyer. That crew had been filled with old war buddies - Dum Dum Dugan, James Falsworth, Jim Morita, Gabe Jones, and Jacques Dernier. There were two pictures next to it. They were smiling in both, but Clint caught the beat up racer in the background and he knew that one was from their first race. The other one was clearly from the first they'd won together. He tilted his head, trying to figure out what was off about that picture.

"Clint," Natasha said, drawing his attention.

"Sorry," Clint said, glancing back at the picture. Maybe he'd have time to puzzle it out later, but for now he hurried to catch up to Fury and Natasha.

Nick was eying him as he approached, an eyebrow raised.

"The models were interesting," Clint said.

Fury sighed, looking over at Natasha.

She shrugged. "Clint usually goes all in when he's interested in a subject."

"Right, remember the plan."

"Let you and Tasha talk," Clint repeated. "Don't say something stupid and let my driving do my talking?"

"Exactly," Natasha said.

"I can be quiet," Clint stated.

"Mr Fury," a young woman said, approaching the group.

"Hello Daisy," Nick said, looking over at the woman. "How's Coulson treating you?"

"Just fine, he's ready for you," Daisy said.

"Excellent," Nick said. They were guided to the area of the building where there were a bunch of offices. Clint could catch sight of Stark's testing track beyond some of the windows.

"Why is Fury here?!" a dark haired man yelled, stepping out of an office. "I'm supposed to be notified when he steps foot in my buildings."

There was a sigh. "I told you Nick was coming yesterday. He has a driver for us to meet."

Clint froze. Why was that second voice familiar?

"Are you sure we want to test a driver recommended by him?" the dark haired man asked.

Natasha bristled.

"Just because you have beef with Nick doesn't mean I do, and you put me in charge of the F1 division," the second voice said. "Shoo!"

Clint paled as the voice became stern, his cock stirring, as realization hit. Natasha was going to kill him.

"Did you just… Did you… shoo me?"

"I did."

"I can have you fired Coulson."

"Half the team will object by quitting. The rest can't afford to go without a job right away. Try me Stark."

Clint's eyes almost bulged out of his head because the owner didn't want Nick in the building. This was a bad idea, worst idea ever.

A hand slipped into his and squeezed. He looked over to see Natasha looking at him. "It's friendly."

And yes, the bickering did have a friendly overtone to it. A familiar patter and even Fury looked bored. Still, there was the fact that Clint had slept with his maybe, soon to be boss. He looked over at Natasha, trying to figure out how to tell her.

Her eyes were already narrowed, trying to read him.

"Tony, Phil," Fury said, talking over them. "I'd like you to meet Clint Barton." Nick stepped away, revealing Clint to the pair.

Clint looked over at Phil, whose eyes were widening. Clint swallowed, unsure of how to play this. "Mr. Coulson."

"Mr. Barton," Phil said. His eyes dropping to where Natasha was holding his hand, his eyes narrowed.

"Not engaged, not dating!" Clint babbled as panic set in. "Just friends, best friends, but no, it'd be like doing my sister."

Quiet ensued after Clint managed to shut himself up. He looked down at his feet, refusing to look up.

"Barton…" Fury said, slowly in the 'you're giving me a migraine' voice.

"I like him," Stark said. "Let's put him in a car. C'mon, I'll show you where you can change."

Two hands landed on his shoulders, pushing him away from Natasha and Nick, away from Phil. He looked up to see Stark, grinning at him. He went with Stark, glancing back to see a suspicious look on Nick's, a mixture of concern and confusion on Natasha's, and well, he wasn't quite sure what Phil was thinking.

"Why…?" Clint asked, as they stepped onto the elevators.

"I have never seen that look on Coulson's face before," Stark said, studying him. "I don't know what you did to get that reaction, but I'm pretty confident he would have found a way to say no and I need a driver."

"I just panic babbled," Clint pointed out. "Panicking is not a good thing for a driver."

"I know," Stark grinned. "Threw Red right under the bus."

"Natasha. She's also my trainer."

"We can discuss that, if you can prove to us that the panic babbles are something you do only in interviews and not in the car." He sniffed. "Fury does have a good eye for drivers. He wouldn't have suggested you for no reason."

Clint nodded.

The doors opened and Stark turned him over to Janet Van Dyne who found him a spare suit. She took him out to the garage, where a car was prepped and gleaming in the sunlight, a couple of mechanics doing their last checks.

"Hey guys," Clint said, going over to them. "Clint Barton."

"Yeah, we know," one of them said. "You were supposed to talk to Coulson a bit a longer, going to be a minute."

"That's fine," Clint said with a nod. "You are?"

"Sam Wilson, Pit Crew Front Wing Flap adjust," Sam said.

Clint nodded. "You all prefer last names or first names?"

"Sam's fine, considering there's still a shot we might have another Wilson in the bunch."

"Oh?" Clint asked.

"Rumlow took a few people," the other man said, before extending his hand. "Steve Rogers, the number one mechanic."

Clint nodded.

"Yeah, but the other Wilson is your potential competition," a third man whose arm was in a sling said. "I'm…"

"You're James Barnes," Clint said, interrupting. "I've watched your races. hat was a dirty move by Rollins that cost you the Qatar Grand Prix; the Board should have sanctioned him."

"Uh oh, Barton just got on Barnes' good side," Sam said.

"He's not wrong," Steve said.

"Yeah," Barnes agreed. "But I got him back…"

"In Vegas."

They grinned at each other.

"Haven't heard of you," Barnes stated.

"I've been racing Indycar in the States, never was on a team with enough for international," Clint said with a shrug. "But F1… It's the dream, but I haven't won yet. Came close enough to get my points and be able to take the test."

"Something wrong with the cars?" Sam asked.

"Not really," Clint said. "I mean, one of 'em took some damage, which slowed me down. I think I would have won if I hadn't gotten damaged, but I can't control the other drivers."

"You have no complaints about the cars?" Sam asked.

"Not going to complain about cars to the mechanics and pit crew," Clint pointed out. "There have been cars I should have won in and I let down the team, but there are cars that I am surprised that I managed to get as highly placed as I did."

"She's all ready for you," Steve said, handing him a helmet.

*

"What do you think?" Phil asked, not looking back as the door opened behind him. His eyes were on the track as Barton got the car up to speed.

"Sam likes him more than he likes Bucky," Steve said, coming over the window.

"That's not a high bar," Phil pointed out.

"Sam likes to irritate Bucky. It's very much what you and Stark have going," Steve pointed out.

Phil shot a glare at Steve, but the other man's eyes were fixed on the tracks.

"He's making good time out there."

Phil was loath to admit it, but Barton was making good time. The whole building was going to know because Stark had built it so a large expanse of the building faced the track. He knew people were watching and word was being spread that this was their potential new driver. Hiring him was a bad idea though.

Phil couldn't help, but feel a bit of betrayal as he realized his one night stand from the previous night was his potential new driver. Had it been planned? Was it some weird way to worm his way onto the team?

Phil closed his eyes, remembering the grip of strong fingers on his hip, and a breathy moan in his ears. He jerked himself back to reality as he frowned. Definitely a bad idea to hire him, but how did he explain that decision to Stark.

He could delay. There was a possibility that Wade Wilson would be a better driver and he was due to interview tomorrow. Yes, he'd push him off - interview Wade tomorrow and go from there.

*

"What did he do exactly?" Nick asked.

"Nick," Clint said, pleadingly.

"No, I saw you drive," Nick said, looking back at Barton. "I know how good you were out there. I want to know why you're not getting an offer."

"This is highly unprofess…"

"Cut the Bullshit, Coulson," Fury interrupted.

"I have another…" Coulson said, raising his voice.

"Who? Wade Wilson? He's wrecked more cars than the Wrecking Crew combined," Fury said. "You need a primary driver that is going to stay out of the hospital. That ain't Wade."

"This is amazing," Stark said. "Never thought I'd see the day when the two of you went at it."

Clint looked at Natasha, who was busy glaring at Coulson. He was ready to go. His joy and excitement had long since evaporated after Coulson's rambling 'We'll call you and let you know after our other interviews.' He'd apparently ruined his chances, before ever stepping foot in the building. Curse his slutty, slutty self.

"He did look good out there," a new person said, bald like Nick but more slender and shorter. Clint hadn't caught his name, but he also hadn't been introduced. Phil had come in already turning him down.

"I'm in charge of this operation," Coulson said.

"Yes and you've put me in the very odd position of agreeing with Nick Fury," Stark said. "I like him, Janet likes him."

"I'm not saying 'no'," Coulson said. "We have other interviews."

Clint reached out and grabbed Natasha's arm, attracting her attention. "Can we go," he whispered. "He's not going to change his mind."

"Clint, let us…" Natasha said.

"I met him last night."

Natasha tilted her head slightly as she studied him. He nodded slowly. Her eyes widened, before narrowing and lips pursing. She was calculating. Then her features relaxed, she looked soft. "Nick."

Fury glanced back at her.

"It's okay," Natasha said. "Clearly, Mr. Coulson isn't capable of being professional."

"Yeah, you don't know Coulson," Stark said. "He's Mr. Professional."

"Is he?" Natasha asked, looking like a wide innocent.

Oh, she was going to go nuclear.

"Because he clearly can't separate his personal life from his professional life."

"Coulson doesn't have a personal life," Stark stated. "He's a robot."

"Tony," the other man said, even Clint could hear the warning in his voice.

"Oh, I have it on good authority that he at least has one night stands." Natasha was staring Coulson down.

Coulson paled, before his eyes narrowed.

Stark blinked, falling silent as he looked between Natasha and Phil. "You? You two?"

"No," Nick said, nodding to himself as he looked back at Clint. "Not her."

"Oh," Stark said. Clint glanced over to find Stark staring at him. "That's why you panic-babbled." He slowly turned to look back at Coulson. "So, was he not good?"

Coulson was red, embarrassed as he looked over the group. "He was… Wait, I don't… It doesn't matter, we have… other interviews."

"Never thought I'd see Coulson's unshakable cool disappear," Stark said. He looked back at Clint. "Do you know how long I've been trying to get this to happen and you do it in less than, what, 24 hours?"

Clint shrugged. "He doesn't want to work with me, it's fine."

Natasha looked at him. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Clint lied, because this had been his chance and these didn't come around often. He just wanted to go. This was embarrassing enough at this point.

Natasha nodded. She looked over at Nick, who jerked his head toward the door. She shot a glare at Coulson, before going and wrapping her arm around him and guiding him out the door. She muttered, angrily in Russian before the door closed behind them.

*

Coulson took a deep breath as the door closed behind Barton.

"Stark, Rhodes, I'd like to have a word with Coulson by myself," Nick said.

"You can't…" Stark started, but Rhodes was already grabbing him and hauling him out of the room.

"Let's go find Pepper," Rhodes stated as they left.

Phil watched them go, before turning to look at Fury, finding his center now that the distraction that was Barton was out of the room. Bracing himself for Nick to yell at him.

"I'm disappointed in you," Nick said.

Phil blinked, because that was nowhere near the decibel level, he expected.

"I taught you everything I knew about racing. Sure you went off and joined Stark, but it made sense, F1 was what your grandfather talked about, the one he loved. I will say with you at the helm of Stark racing, you and Tony have built something, but you're missing a key piece and do you know what that piece is?"

Phil waited a beat too long perhaps, but he wanted to make sure that he was supposed to respond. "A driver?"

"A driver! Barton is that driver. Barnes is good, real good, but you and I both know it's really questionable that he gets back in that car. You need Barton and you're letting your dick get in the way of that. The Phil Coulson I knew wouldn't do that. Clearly Rumlow didn't take all the assholes with him."

"I'm not," Phil started to object.

Fury's glare darkened.

*

"Barton," Stark's voice came from behind them. Clint turned to find Stark in the doorway. "Good we caught you. Spoke to legal and you know what? I am still the owner. Can you believe that?"

"Pretty sure your name is on the building," Clint said.

"I know and see I like to delegate stuff, interviews and hiring…" Stark shuddered.

"Coulson's not fond of it either," Clint stated

"Can we help you Mr. Stark?" Natasha said, elbowing him in the gut.

"Dad was the one that built this for his friends. I kind of handed it off to my friends, but you're right my name is still on the building." He was looking up at the building, before he looked at them. "Talked to Rhodey and Pepper … you haven't met Pepper."

"Rhodey that fellow that came in with you?" Clint asked. "You never introduced us."

"Yeah, my best friend," Tony said. "He knows racing better than me. It's why I made him the Team Principal. Tried to make Pepper the Team Director, but she hates racing, so I made CEO of Stark Industries."

"Where does that leave you?" Clint asked.

"Meddling in whatever catches my interest, which you have," Stark said.

"Too bad Coulson…"

"Fuck Coulson. Well… maybe don't," Stark said. "I dunno, you two do what you want and figure it out when Coulson gets over whatever issues he has."

"I'm sorry?"

Stark snorted. "You made it very clear that you and Romanov were not romantically linked. Pretty sure, you were thinking of round two."

"Should have realized then what had happened," Natasha said.

"So, let's go see Matt over in Legal. Get some contracts signed?"

"But Coulson…" Clint started.

"My name," Stark said, pointing to the sign. "We all agreed. My name is up there, so I'm making a decision and Rhodey is backing me, even if you did fuck Coulson. So do you want to be a Formula One Driver or do you want to go back to Indycar?"

"Formula One," Clint said without hesitation.

"So let's go sign some papers," Stark said, gesturing toward the building.

"What about Coulson, he could quit, take half the team?" Clint said, getting up to follow Stark.

"Yeah, no, that only happens if I'm the asshole. If he's the asshole, then I get to keep the team and I've already sent in Pepper to smooth everything over. I, too, have a competent redhead that gets shit done for me. She'll handle Coulson after Fury is done with him."

"It's the only reason I left," Natasha said.

Clint pulled her close in a half hug as they walked because yeah, she would have reamed Coulson out as well.

A few hours later and some intense negotiations from Natasha, Clint signed his name. He hesitated, before looking at Stark. "Hey Stark. Thank you for this."

"Thank me by winning."

"But you should know, Coulson and I… it's round four. Also, it was the other way around."

Stark's eyes widened as he grinned. "Oh, I hate you so much for that visual."

"Mr. Stark, do I need to remind you that you should not be meddling in your employees' personal lives?"

"It's Coulson, it's fine," Stark said, waving it away.

Matt sighed. "I'd warn Jen that a sexual harassment lawsuit is on its way, but… she's probably expecting one sooner rather than later."

*

Phil listened to Barton's clipped voice over the radio. He was never talkative when racing, concentrating on driving, making the tiniest of course corrections. He'd fit right into the team and while he hadn't won one yet, he'd been steadily finishing higher and higher in the standings.

Of course with all of that, he'd kept his distance from Phil and Phil didn't blame him. He hadn't acted with grace and had assumed the worst. Tony had made the smart decision and hired him despite Phil's objections. Now he was on the outside looking in. It was… fine.

Natasha had also slotted onto the team as Clint's trainer. Melinda liked her and while she didn't hold anything against Phil, she made it clear that she thought he'd pulled a stupid stunt. Melinda wasn't wrong. He was thankful that most of the team had dropped it.

"I think I can pass him." Clint stated.

Phil eyed the track and considered. Risky, but it would get Clint into the top three. "Go Ahead."

"Copy," Clint said, before making his move.

*

"Your highest ranking in Formula One," Christine said, coming over to Clint, mic in hand. "Any comments?"

"Yeah, pit crew was amazing. The mechanics built a fast car and you know management had a great plan. One of these days, I think I should be in that winner circle. Aren’t you usually over there?”

“Boss killed a story of mine, back in the States, little racing group of Hawkeye racing. Ever hear of it?”

Clint smirked. “Should I have?”

“Maybe, considering it’s what your mentor, Nick Fury, is up to.”

“I haven’t talked to Nick in a while,” Clint admitted. “Unfortunately, haven’t had the time except for pleasantries.”

“So you know nothing about it?”

“Why are you interested?”

Christine paused, before sighing. “Racing is still a male dominated sport. Team full of women, going out there and winning. Now, I’m more curious because like I said, boss killed it and took me off the winner circle when I pushed back.”

Clint blinked, before nodding. “There’s nothing I want to put on the record about this.”

“You know something?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny anything.”

Christine stared at him, before nodding. Her professional demeanor took over. “Think you can win it next week?”

“I think I stand a chance,” Clint said. “We’re really starting to click.”

“Didn’t take that long.”

“They’re a great team. Stark, Rhodes, and Coulson have built something here.”

*

“This has to be the grossest place I’ve seen.” Christine’s voice came from behind him. “Seriously, doesn’t Stark pay you better?”

“This place has the best pizza,” Clint said, turning and gesturing her to join the table. They were already making room for her with Steve getting up and finding another chair for them. “What brings you by?”

“You said, you didn’t want anything on the record about Hawkeye Racing.”

“You skipping out on us?” Sam asked.

Natasha was already pulling out her phone and he knew she was checking corporate structures.

“No,” Clint stated, looking at Sam and shaking his head.

“From what I’ve seen Hawkeye Racing doesn’t have the funding for Formula One,” Christine said. “It’d be a backward step, plus he wouldn’t fit in.” She turned to look at him. “So…?”

“Bishop Publishing is higher up in your structure,” Natasha stated.

“That’s why your story got killed,” Clint said, taking a sip of his beer.

Christine frowned. “Why?”

“It’s your story,” Clint said. “I’ve fought my fight with Bishop. I’ll give you that much.”

“It’s off the record.”

Clint looked over at Natasha, who was staring at Christine. “Take a week off, go meet the team. That’ll tell you why it got killed.”

Christine glared at her. “I don’t see why…”

“Because,” Natasha started, hand landing on Clint’s shoulder. “Like Clint said, we fought our fight. Right now, he’s going to know you came to us. We have connections to Nick. Yelena and I were raised by the same parents. You come back after this weekend with all this information…. He will know it was us and our fight begins again.”

“You said you didn’t know anything,” Christine said, eyes narrowed and accusatory at Clint.

“I said, I hadn’t talked to Nick in a while, which is true.”

“All I wanted to do was a fluff piece on aracing team that seems to be focused on hiring women in all positions.”

“That is the mission of Hawkeye Racing. I’ve beaten him behind the wheel,” Natasha said, pointing to Clint. “He still got better sponsorships, better training, better everything.”

Christine paused. “Are you two funding Hawkeye racing?”

“Partially,” Natasha replied.

Clint took a bite of his pizza and shrugged as Christine’s accusatory eyes turned on him again.

“Why are you wholesome? There has to be some deep dark secret in your past.”

“Well, he is gay,” Wade said, piping up.

“Bi,” Natasha corrected, absently. “Just remember off the record.”

“I’m aware,” Christine said, sighing. “You’ll come see me when you want to break that story, right?”

“Maybe,” Clint said. “We’ll see how you handle Hawkeye. Would love for them to get a spotlight, even if it isn’t your site.”

Christine nodded, before getting up and walking away. The table shifted again.

“Hawkeye Racing?” Sam asked.

“Her sister wanted her to race, couldn’t find any good teams. We made one,” Clint said.

“Then Clint had to go and find a better driver,” Natasha grumbled

Clint snorted. “I did not find her, she found me.”

"That's true."

"Do we want to know?" Bucky asked.

Clint glanced around, spotting Stark and Coulson talking to Christine. He leaned in, because these were good people. "It's Bishop's daughter. He wants her to be a socialite. She enjoys going very, very fast."

"Loves the dirt tracks," Natasha added.

"I do miss dirt tracks," Clint murmured.

"We fought a lot with Bishop during the go-kart years when Kate was a minor. We also have to keep our noses clean because we know he'd love to disgrace us."

"He thinks he'll get his daughter back," Clint said with a sigh.

"Doesn't sound like she's willing," Wade said.

"You warn Tony?" Steve asked. "He probably needs to know that Bishop would love to write a hit piece on you. He also doesn't like Christine."

"Yeah, because he slept with her," Wade said. "Which reminds me…" He turned toward Clint. "When will you make that horrible mistake with me?"

"I like you too much to defile you," Clint said. "Plus we're teammates. You're my number two."

"You romancer, turning me down in the sweetest way possible," Wade cooed at him.

"This is disturbing," Sam said, gesturing towards them.

Clint shrugged, falling silent as two hands landed on his shoulders.

"Why are you making nice with Everhart?" Tony asked.

Clint tilted his head to look up at him. Coulson was just out of view, watching the conversation. "She asked me about a fluff piece."

"On you?" Tony asked.

"No, it got killed and she got pulled off interviewing the winner circle because of it," Clint explained.

"What kind of fluff piece…" Tony trailed off, studying the table, before looking at Steve. "Rogers."

Steve hesitated, looking at Clint.

"She stumbled upon the team Clint and I put together for my sister," Natasha said. "It got killed because of Derek Bishop. We pointed her in that direction."

"Yeah, because Bishop hates us," Clint added.

'Why does Derek Bishop hate you?" Tony asked. "That man holds grudges."

"Well, he's super protective of his kid," Clint said.

"Please tell me that neither of you had sex with…"

"Oh god no," Clint said, objecting immediately. "There has been no sexy-times to my knowledge going on with Kate Bishop. That girl is untouched as far as I know."

"He doesn't want her to be a driver, and she's a very good driver," Natasha clarified. "We let her drive and didn't take his bribe money to toss her off the team."

"How good?" Tony asked. "You have a separate team?"

"She's probably going to be better than me one day," Clint said.

"We made it for my sister," Natasha said. "Kate showed up one day and convinced us to give her a go."

Tony sighed. "Tomorrow, we're going to start looking for skeletons in your closet because Bishop had already been doing that. Both of your closets."

"Why?" Clint asked. "He hasn't found anything yet?"

"Because when you win, you're going to make more enemies," Coulson said, chiming in. "Which will give Bishop allies and deeper pockets."

"Fine," Clint said with a sigh.

"In exchange, when we get back to the States, Clint gets to run on a dirt track."

"Why?" Stark asked. "They're so… dirty."

"That's the fun part!"

"Ugh, fine," Tony said, waving his hand. "I'm sure one of the subsidiaries has something you can use."

"I volunteer to help on that," Sam said, raising his hand as did Bucky and Steve.

"Traitors," Tony said, before looking at Bucky. "And what are you going to do?"

"Head Race Engineer, Coulson doesn't know anything about dirt tracks," Bucky said.

"Wouldn't be a bad idea to give Barnes a chance at it," Phil said, looking at him.

Tony nodded. "Fine, I'll tell Rhodey to figure it all out. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, considering where we're at." He scowled and moved to check on another table.

*

"Hey Coulson, how close is he?" Barton asked.

Phil shook his head. "Don't get cocky."

"How close?"

"Drive clean and you've got this," Phil admitted, smiling. It wasn't long before Clint was across the line. The radio waves filled with shouts. Phil reached up and turned it down as the other remaining racers crossed. Phil joined the team in rushing for Clint as he climbed out letting out a shout, but lingered behind the group. He knew his presence wasn't necessary, but appearances were necessary.

It had been a long time since one of Stark's drivers was at the top of the podium. He wasn't too surprised to spot Natasha had slipped in with the crew, operating also as Clint's own translator. There was the spray of sparkling wine and Phil was just on the outside that he was able to spot Brock's sour face, full of anger. Most of Hydra Racing was looking unhappy. There was something there that sent a chill down Phil's spine.

*

"I'm so glad I didn't listen to Coulson," Stark said, wrapping his arm around Clint's shoulders. "You are worth every penny."

"Thanks boss," Clint said, reaching for another slice.

"Though really… Pizza and beer?" Tony asked. "This is how you want to celebrate?"

"You told me to lie low," Clint pointed out. "Nothing to make headlines."

"Dancing?"

"Dancing leads to fucking," Clint stated. "I'm not over my last disastrous one night stand." His eyes drifted over to Coulson and he frowned. The other man, as always, was keeping his distance.

"In what way?" Tony asked.

Clint snorted. "You're like one of his best friends, there's no way I'm talking about it with you." He hadn't even talked about it with Nat, granted she was in the midst of her own flirting. Bucky looked appropriately terrified and far more interested.

"Listen, your bestie is…" Tony trailed off. "I'm a little terrified to put a name to that."

"She likes him," Clint said.

"Your bestie is busy. Talk to me, we're all family here." He paused. "Except for Wade. That man crashes way too many cars."

"You knew what you were getting when you hired him," Clint said. "When he doesn't crash, he's amazing."

"Very true," Tony agreed. "So what's the problem? Coulson bothering you?"

"He's kept his distance," Clint stated. "It's fine."

Tony was quiet and Clint risked a glance over at him. "You want to fuck him again?"

"No," Clint said, immediately. It was mostly true, in that he didn't want to just fuck him. He also wanted to get to know him more, because everything that he'd seen from Phil ticked just about all of Clint's boxes.

"Oh no, you have feelings," Tony said, sounding disgusted.

"Like you don't?" Clint asked, deciding to get out of this conversation.

"For Coulson? No."

"Steve."

"I… I… I do not!" Tony stammered, looking flustered. "You know what I don't have to take this, I'm going to talk to Pepper."

"And have a better angle at ogling Steve discreetly," Clint added.

"You… I…" Tony shook his head and headed off.

Clint grinned, feeling like he'd just managed to avoid an accident on the track.

*

"Hey Coulson, can you send Barton a message for me?" Wilson asked.

Phil sighed, wanting to close his eyes, but it was mid-race and there was no way. "What's the message?"

"Being behind him while racing isn't as much fun, the view is far worse. I may have to pass him."

"I'm not passing that along."

"You're no fun, Coulson," Wilson said.

"Yeah, well Rumlow is on your ass, you might want to deal with that. No bonus if you lose second place, because you're distracted talking."

"Fine," Wade grumbled. "I'll deal with Rumlow."

Phil sighed, keeping an eye on everything. Clint had a good lead on this race. The more unexpected result was that Wade was still in it and with only a few laps to go. Wade was an excellent driver though, just accident prone. He was currently fending off Rumlow.

"Don't…" Coulson started, just as Rumlow spun out, Wade continuing onward.

"Don't what?" Wade asked.

"Wreck yourself to take him out," Coulson finished slowly. "Yellow Flag." He clicked over to Barton's. "Yellow Flag."

"What happened?"

"Rumlow spun out trying to pass Wade, hit the wall. He's up and moving, looks angry."

"He always looks angry."

"Agreed. Wade is behind you. He has stated an intention to get ahead of you."

"He can try. That why haven't I heard much from you, Wade still in it?"

"Got to keep my eye on the two of you, not used to it this late in the race."

"Yeah, well, stick with me on the restart, will you?"

Phil blinked, surprised at the warmth that filled his chest. Barton wanted him to stay with him? Barton had never asked that. "Will do."

*

"Why?" Coulson asked, appearing in front of Clint.

"Why what?"

"You wanted me to stay with you."

"I'm used to having you there at the end of the race. Restarting with only a few laps while in the lead was making me a bit nervy. You're a calm voice in my ear."

Phil blinked, looking surprised.

"You're good at your job Coulson," Clint admitted. "Our personal lives might have gone down the shitter, but we're both professionals, I appreciate what you do."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Clint said.

"You're good at your job, too."

"Duh? I won today."

"You're always quick to thank the crew."

"I don't wanna forget. Plus, shit, I've seen crews turn on drivers because the driver got a big head. I don't want that, I'm all for Team Harmony."

"Are you?"

"Yeah," Clint agreed, before spotting Wade walking by. "Except with Wade, who is Number Two!"

Wade turned glared and stuck up his middle finger.

Clint chuckled, enjoying the reaction.

Coulson shook his head. "I'll leave you to your celebration."

"You coming to the dirt track?" Clint asked.

"I think Bucky volunteered to do my job, what would be the purpose?" Coulson asked.

Right, Coulson was done with him. "Most of the team is going, so team bonding?"

"I'll consider it," Phil said as he walked away.

Clint sighed, before going to join his team.

*

"Ugh," Darcy said. "I'm going to need a shower after this."

Phil took a sip of his drink, saying nothing. He, too, was going to need a shower after the race. Today was hot and sunny and the practice rounds were kicking up all kinds of dust. A quick glance toward the sky made it obvious that it wouldn't be the case for the actual race tomorrow. Thankfully, the weather report said it would clear by race time, tomorrow was going to be muddy for the racers.

"They did say dirt track," Daisy commented.

"Didn't think we'd be wearing the dirt though," Darcy grumbled.

Phil was rather surprised at how many were accompanying Clint to Iowa for a proper dirt track. Even Tony was planning on being here for the actual race.

The bleacher shifted next to him as Natasha took a seat.

"I thought you were going for food?" Phil asked, noting the lack of food in her hand.

"And I ate it, where the dirt couldn't get to it," Natasha replied.

"Well, it'll probably be muddy tomorrow."

"I know, Clint is excited. He says it's not a dirt track race, if you don't need to remove several layers of mud."

Phil huffed a laugh and shook his head. He could hear it.

"Should I be concerned about the lack of Wade?" Natasha asked.

"He's trying to talk one of the other teams into letting him drive for them," Daisy said, shaking her head. "Last I saw Foggy was chasing after him."

"He wants to race?" Natasha asked.

"Yes," Phil said.

She pulled out her phone and started texting someone.

"Are you finding him a car?" Phil asked, concerned.

"I know a guy, he'll have a spare. He always does," Natasha said, smiling to herself.

"I don't know, if we should let him in a car," Phil started. "If both of them get hurt…"

Natasha looked up at him. "Clint's not going to get hurt."

"Accidents happen."

"Fine," Natasha said, shoving the phone away. "If Wade finds him on his own, then I'm not stopping him."

"Hopefully Foggy will handle it then," Phil said. "We can let Wade have another night."

Natasha paused. "There is a lawn mower race before the main event."

"Does your friend have a lawnmower?"

"Yes."

"I'm alright with that," Phil decided.

Natasha grinned and pulled out her phone again. She typed for a bit, before putting it back away. By that time Darcy and Daisy had retreated to get out of the dust. Phil stood, stretching as Clint finished his practice laps. Natasha stood blocking his exit, studying him.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Natasha said. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I wish you hadn't fucked my friend."

Phil's spine stiffened. "It was consensual."

"I know, but your relationship now is all kinds of messed up."

Phil nodded.

"You two would have been good together," Natasha stated.

Phil blinked, surprised. "I… Just what are you saying?"

"You are my friend's type and if you had gotten to know one another, then dated, I think you two would have been good for each other."

"You don't know me that well."

"We've been working together for six months, I see how the team looks to you, how you treat them. I know enough."

"Unfortunately, life doesn't always work out the way we want it to."

"No," Natasha agreed. "But I've always wanted the best for him."

Phil nodded. "He did say you were his sister in all but blood."

"I know, he did it in the most embarrassing way possible too." She sighed. "He's an idiot."

"Not when it comes to his job," Phil pointed out, gently.

Natasha smiled, nodding and finally, heading out of the stands. She pulled out her phone as they reached the bottom of the stands, coming to a halt.

"Shit."

"What?" Phil asked.

"You need to call Wanda," Natasha said, pulling her hat off and placing it on him. Her sunglasses came off as well.

"Why?" Phil objected as Natasha showed him her screen.

"The Fuck…" Phil muttered, staring at the headline. He took it and started reading it. "I never… I would never…"

"I know, put the glasses on. Clint's here, there's a chance they're going to recognize you."

Phil put them on, frowning. He glanced around, noting that a few people were looking at them. They had been making a slight spectacle, was it because of that? Was it because of the article? Had they read it already? He was reaching for his phone. Unsurprised to see he had missed phone calls.

"Thor!" Natasha yelled, waving her hand.

Thor came and Phil sighed in relief, noting that Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg were trailing behind him.

"Natasha, Clint looked great out there," Thor said, coming up. "Hey…"

"I need you to do me a favor!" Natasha said, cutting Thor off, before he could greet Phil.

"Of course," Thor said.

"He needs to get to the car quickly and securely."

Thor frowned.

"Front, back, one on each side," Natasha instructed. "We'll explain later."

Phil expected Thor to object, but instead he nodded. Phil was quickly surrounded by four of their biggest pit crew members and they moved quickly to the car. Natasha was on the phone as she walked.

They had just reached the parking lot when a car pulled to a stop. Natasha opened the door and gestured for Phil to get in. He slipped in.

"Hey Boss," Robbie greeted him. "Heard you needed a ride."

"I do thanks," Phil said, glancing at Natasha.

"Happy's already en route. Go to your hotel room and call Pepper and Wanda, okay," Natasha said. "I'll fill these guys in."

"Thank you for your fast thinking," Phil said.

"Your welcome, lay low Phil," Natasha said.

Phil nodded, letting Natasha close the door.

He sighed as Robbie started making his way out of the parking lot.

"So, Daisy just yelled at me to do this. Can I know what's going on?" Robbie asked as they pulled out onto the street.

"Brock Rumlow has accused me of sexually harassing him," Phil stated. "He has gone to press and stated it is why he left the way he did."

"That's bullshit," Robbie said.

"Thank you for believing in me," Phil said.

"Does explain why they wanted you out of there fast," Robbie said.

"Yes, I'm sure Tony, Pepper, and Wanda are coming up with a plan," Phil said, pulling out his phone.

*

Phil's eyes were wide as he opened the door.

"Are you okay?" Clint asked.

"Are you… Why are you all muddy?"

"I won, they tackled me." It had been great. He'd won at the track and the team had tackled as they'd celebrated. Wade had made sure that he looked more brunette than blond. Afterwards, he looked up and found Phil missing and asked about it. Then they had told him about the news, about Rumlow's accusations. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be…?"

"Rumlow. Can we go inside and talk?"

"Not with you looking like that, I'm surprised someone let you in their car."

"Rode in the back of Thor's pickup," Clint stated. "Rumlow."

Phil's eyes widened as he sighed. "They're already dropping a press release. Pepper will want to talk to you tomorrow about how you want to handle this."

"Me? Why?"

"Because Bishop dropped pictures of us. They're claiming you slept with me to get the job. I'm apparently a predator."

"Of us?"

"The night before your interview," Phil said, softly.

Clint felt his eyes go wide, before he shook his head. "I'm calling Christine."

"Christine?"

"Everheart. No, fuck, Bishop will kill her story. Hell, she can tell me who to talk to."

"Why would you?"

"Because that is such bullshit," Clint said. "It was reverse discrimination. You didn't want to hire me because we slept together. In the end it didn't matter, it was Tony's decision. You've nothing, but professional."

"Bishop just outed you and you're worried about me?!"

Clint snorted. "Everyone who I care about knows I'm bi, Phil. Hell, even my asshole brother knows that. I don't care. Tony is a sentimental fool that can't get rid of Bucky even though he's injured and unlikely to come back at the level he was, and he's never been friendly with Bucky, but he's Steve's best friend. Tony actually likes me, Tony isn't going to fire me, because I'm bi."

"The press," Phil started.

"I don't give a damn about the press. I'm worried about you."

Phil stared at him for a long time. "We can discuss it in a team meeting."

Clint stared at him.

"I'll have Pepper schedule a press conference with you, okay? Now will you go shower, you're disgusting."

"Phil, I'm a dirty boy, you knew that," Clint said, dropping his voice.

Phil's eyes widened. "I'm going back in my room. We'll deal with this tomorrow, okay."

"Okay," Clint said, turning to walk away.

"Oh Clint," Phil said after Clint had gotten a few steps away.

Clint paused, looking back at him.

"Congratulations on your win."

"Thanks Phil, missed having you."

"How'd Wade do in the lawnmower races?"

"Dead last, those things don't handle like formula one cars," Clint answered. "Oh, Robbie took third in the short race."

"Hopefully Daisy and Darcy got me a video of it all. I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

"It's okay, next time."

"Next time." It sounded like a promise.

*

Clint settled into the chair, glancing around. There were a few others. He scanned the audience, spotting Natasha in the back. Christine was toward the front, mic in front of her.

Tony stepped up to the mic. "Alright, let's get started. I'm going to read a bit here. Clint has a few things to say. First off, per Brock Rumlow's accusations toward Phil Coulson. Sexual harassment should not happen in any workplace. We believe that firmly. Due to those accusations, we are in the middle of conducting our own investigations given Brock Rumlow's accusations. We have hired an outside agency to look into it. Per our lawyers, we are unable to comment until that investigation is complete. Coulson has voluntarily taken a few days vacation while that is being completed. We will not be taking any questions on that per our advice with our lawyers."

Tony paused, immediately the reporters were trying to ask questions. He ignored them and looked at Clint. A tilt of his head, which Clint took to mean 'You sure?'

Clint stood, heading toward the podium. "Good morning."

The reporters quieted down.

"So, over the weekend Bishop Publishing posted pictures of myself and Phil Coulson. In the same article, they implied that it was evidence pointing towards Coulson sexually harassing another employee and that I did it as some sort of quid pro quo to get my position here at Stark as if I don't deserve to be a Formula One driver. Allow me to say this, if I didn't deserve to be here, I wouldn't be on a three race win streak."

"Three?" Christine asked.

"I hit a small dirt track over the weekend, it's why this is on Tuesday and not yesterday. We were all getting back from our weekend."

"You won?" Christine asked.

"I did, so two win race streak for Formula One and a dirt track win, which again, if I didn't deserve to be here, the other teams would be winning, despite how good the Stark car is."

"So Coulson didn't approach you?" another reporter asked.

"Nope, I approached him," Clint said, nodding. "It was consensual."

"You're gay?" a third reporter asked.

"Bi," Clint corrected.

"It still could have been a quid pro quo," a fourth reporter started to say.

"Except Coulson was against me being hired," Clint said, casually. "Tony is the one that hired me, over Coulson's objections, because of how I performed on the track. Coulson didn't want to hire me because we had slept together."

"Coulson seemed very reluctant when I talked to him," Steve said, leaning forward toward his mic. "I thought he'd lost his mind."

"Same, he wanted to interview Wade Wilson, before making a decision about Clint when in truth we needed two drivers." Rhodes said. "Then Clint let it slip that they'd slept together. Clint was too good of a driver to pass up. Tony realized that he owned the team, so he didn't have to listen to Coulson, and hired him anyway. It was the only time I have seen Coulson act unprofessionally."

"In refusing to hire Barton?" Christine asked.

Rhodey nodded. "That is correct."

"Have you and Coulson continued your relationship?" Chrisitne asked.

"No, it was a one time thing," Clint stated. "Whatever hang ups he had about me are gone, we work well together now."

"Thanks, Clint," Tony said, coming up behind him and gesturing for him to take his seat. Clint moved to take it and let Tony take the lead as the reporters began asking their questions.

*

"Tony," Pepper said, softly.

Tony turned away from the track to find Pepper standing in the doorway. He was a bit surprised to see her, but he supposed he shouldn't be. "Bring him in."

Pepper nodded, opening the door to let Alex Summers of X-Factor Investigations into the room. Blue eyes flickered toward the race and then back to him.

"We've completed our preliminary investigation," Alex said.

"I assumed as much, since you're here," Tony said, waving him to take a seat.

Alex sat down, leaning back into the seat slowly. The blond hair and blue eyes almost reminded Tony of Steve, but Alex was far more slender.

"No one can collaborate any of Mr. Rumlow's claims, which are vague and undefined," Alex stated. "He also hasn't been willing to talk to us. He claims we're biased."

"Well, I am paying you."

"To clean house," Alex reminded. "Mr. Coulson has given us access to everything. He has gone above and beyond."

"Your thoughts?"

"I'm sure Alias Investigation is going to find Rumlow's skeletons," Alex stated.

Tony regarded him for a moment. "You're not supposed to know about that."

"Ms. Jones recommended us. Her husband works for you." Alex stated.

"Which is why I couldn't hire her, I needed distance."

Alex nodded his head. "Precisely and you do have a problem."

"I thought you didn't find anything."

"On the Coulson issue. I did uncover another issue, several of the racing team would rather 'suck it' up than report harassment. It was apparently rampant when Rumlow was here."

"He was harassing them?"

"Racial, Sexual, and Homophobic," Alex stated. "Being on an F1 team is the dream for a lot of these people and they don't want to risk their positions by complaining about the driver. They do like Mr. Barton and Mr. Wilson, though a few are uncomfortable with Mr. Wilson's continuous advances towards Mr. Barton."

"What does Clint have to say about that?"

"That it's harmless and it's never going to happen," Alex stated.

"Do I need to be concerned?"

"I wouldn't, he was also trying to flirt with one of my investigators. She thought he was somewhat charming. Theresa can handle herself."

"They're not…?"

"Theresa wouldn't do anything to hinder the investigation, she let him down… gently, '' Alex stated. His eyes shifted, looking past Tony and towards the track, eyes widening. "That doesn't look good."

Tony turned back to the track and started cursing because his car was upside down. He darted, flipping on the radio.

"Talk to me," Rhodey's voice came on. He was filling in for Phil's spot.

"I'm Batman?" Clint said.

"Clint, what day is it?"

"Race day?" Clint said. "You're not as reassuring as Coulson."

There were techs swarming him.

"Did he say he's Batman?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, probably has head injury."

"He is upside down like a bat."

Tony paused, staring at Alex. He clipped the microphone. "Clint, it's Tony - are you Batman because you're hanging upside down like a bat?"

"Hey, bossman got it."

"Your sense of humor has horrible timing," Tony muttered into the radio as shook his head. "I have to deal with this. How sure are you?"

"Coulson should come back from vacation," Alex stated. "I'll have everything written up by… Tuesday at the latest."

Tony nodded, before heading out of the box. He paused. "You can stay here and watch the rest of the race if you want. Otherwise, call Pepper."

"You won't need her?"

"No, this is why she doesn't like racing," Tony said. He wouldn't be bringing Pepper into this at all.

*
"Natasha!" Phil called out as soon as he spotted her. He probably shouldn't be here, but the announcers had said Clint had been taken to the hospital. He might have been on vacation, but that hadn't stopped him from traveling to Montreal.

"Phil?" Natasha said, turning to look at him. "What are you…?"

"I was watching, I know where we send our people. Is Clint okay?"

"Yeah," Natasha said, glancing behind him.

Phil glanced behind him. "That's Felix. He's a friend."

"When he has time for me," Felix added. "Personally I think he was using me for my Montreal apartment."

Natasha arched an eyebrow as her eyes returned to him.

Phil shrugged. He usually had a meal with Felix while he was in town. This trip, he asked to come over and watch the race. He could have just cancelled.

"C'mon," Natasha said, leading him through the hospital lobby and toward a private room. She opened the door. "Someone is here to see you."

"The race is still going, who…" Clint said, trailing off as he saw Phil. He brightened, absently lifting his arm, before putting it back down. "Hey Coulson."

"Clint, you're okay, I'm glad," Phil said, stepping in and going over to him. "I… I was worried."

"I've been hurt worse," Clitn said, lifting his arm. "It's just a flesh wound."

"Clint…"

"I'm serious, most of it will be glued down, hardly any stitches," he gestured toward his arm in the tank.

Phil glanced down and could see the small cuts, many still bleeding. "This is?"

"Antiseptic," Clint replied.

"You were upside down," Phil pointed out.

"It happens, that's what the roll bar is for," Clint replied. "Wait, what are you doing in Montreal?"

"Visiting a friend," Phil replied.

There was a snort from behind, mostly likely from said friend. "More like using a friend to stay close to your job."

Clint frowned. "That your friend?"

"Yes, that's Felix."

Clint grunted, jaw clenching.

"Oh, please don't make that face at me," Felix said. "I'm no threat. I'm straight and even if I was gay, he's pretty besotted."

*Felix," Phil turned to shoot a glare at him. Felix was leaning against the wall near the door.

"Oh no, you called me - said you wanted to hang out, forced me to watch a race, and then I had to drive you over here…" Felix said. "You do not get to 'Felix' me, Phil."

"Why are still here then?" Clint asked.

"Someone has to bring him back to my place," Felix pointed out.

"Can you give me a few minutes?" Phil asked.

Felix sighed. "Fine." He straightened and walked out of the room.

Natasha followed him. "I'll let you two talk a bit."

"Worried about me?" Clint asked.

"Yes."

"Missed you today, Rhodey doesn't quite have your touch."

"He hasn't done this in a while."

"Yeah, definitely prefer you. Haven't crashed out like that with you in my ear."

"I don't think I could have prevented this."

"Eh," Clint said. "Still miss you."

"I've… I've missed to you too."

"Did he actually use the word besotted?"

Phil hummed. "Yeah."

"What does that even mean?"

Phil hesitated. "It means I spent most of my time talking about you."

"Yeah?" Clint asked, ducking his head.

"Yeah. I… Natasha mentioned something before everything happened."

Clint's eyes widened. "Natasha lies."

"She does not," Phil said. "Besides it was her opinion, nothing about you."

"What did she say?"

"Basically, she wishes we hadn't slept together."

Clint considered before shrugging. "It's made things awkward."

"She said, it's because if we had taken our time and gotten to know each other, we'd be good together."

Clint made a face, before he nodded. "You do check a lot of my boxes. Personality wise."

Phil blinked. He hadn't quite expected that. "I… I owe you an apology for how I treated you the day after. I'm glad Tony overruled me. You're amazing out there."

"It was really shitty."

"It was. It's part of why I've kept my distance. I didn't deserve your friendship or kindness. You know, once I actually pulled head out of my ass and realized that Tony was right, which took me a lot longer than I want to admit."

"You apologizing because I got hurt?"

"I'm apologizing, because for a moment today, I was afraid I let something amazing slip by me. I'm also sorry for taking so long to do so."

"Don't do it again?"

"I won't," Phil promised.

"Amazing?" Clint asked.

"Yeah, you are pretty amazing."

Clint smiled. "So, this is really shitty timing."

"I'm aware. I'm willing to wait until the off-season?"

"I was thinking until the investigation was over," Clint replied. He looked away. "Also, I promised Natasha not to make big decisions after an accident. People can make stupid decisions after near-death experiences."

"That's fair, though the preliminary should be completed sooner rather than later," Phil said. "Tony paid for both speed and thoroughness. He wants me back as well."

"Okay, maybe a couple of weeks?"

"More than fair," Phil said, smiling at him.

"Though, just what are you thinking?"

"A proper dinner date, at least three before we re-engage in sexual intimacy."

"Why three?"

"Because five seems like way too much and one and two don't quite seem like enough. Patience is a virtue."

"So on the third date we can have sex or after the third?"

"We can end the third with sex."

"Okay, you've convinced me, three dates." Clint grinned at him and Phil found himself returning it. His eyes went to the screen, before lifting his uninjured arm up. "And there goes Wade."

Phil sighed. "I might have to hire a new driver for next season."

"Just don't sleep with this one."

Phil smirked. "Well, there's only one way to be sure of that. You better take me up on my offer by the end of the season."

"I thought we agreed on a couple of weeks?"

"I don't want to pressure you, so I'll wait until then before I do an interest check. If you're ready before then, let me know. Fair?"

"Fair," Clint agreed. He huffed, a smile curling on his lips. "Interest check."

*

"Hey Coulson," Clint called from where he was doing his stretching with Natasha before the race. Phil paused in the doorway. Things had settled for the most part; thanks to X-Factor Investigations report and Tony's press conference. Also the number of women now stepping forward about Brock Rumlow harassing them, well, the light was off of Phil. It had been quiet, almost too quiet.

"Yes, Clint?" Phil asked, scanning Clint. His injuries were healing, mostly scrapes that had scabbed over creating an odd landscape. He'd caught Natasha occasionally slapping Clint's hands as he'd absently picked on the ones on his arms.

"I made a decision," Clint said. "After discussing it with Nat."

Phil looked at Nat, who smiled and nodded.

"I don't want to wait until the end of the season, but…" Clint trailed off, clearly for dramatic effect.

Phil settled in to wait, lip curling upwards.

Clint glanced back at him, realizing Phil wasn't go to hurry him a long. "Asshole," he muttered.

"Yep," Phil agreed.

"Next win, give me something to work for," Clint finished with a lack of dramatics.

Phil blinked. "Alright, next win. Shall I warn Tony?"

"No, I'll do that. He both loves and hates when I overshare."

Phil sighed. "I'm going to have to deal with Stark knowing far too much about my sex life, aren't i?"

"He already does," Natasha said.

Phil nodded, looking back at Clint. "Worth it."

Clint's smile lit up the room at that.

"Alright, we need a win," Phil said. "I'm going to check on the car. I'm surprised Steve hasn't given me an update yet."

"Have fun!" Clint called after him.

Phil made his way to the garage, noting that it was locked up and Hogun was at the doorway, glaring at anyone passed by. Hogun did open the door for Phil, who frowned as he scanned the room. There were multiple people tied up in one corner while the team was going over the car. Well, most of the team, those tied up, were being watched over by Melinda and Bucky. She nodded to him once.

"Just tell me the police have been called?"

"Knew we forgot something," Sam said, before going back to work.

"Car is more important," Thor stated. "How can Barton be victorious, if his mighty chariot is not properly aligned?"

"You're giving the car way more attention than you usually do," Phil felt the need to point out.

"We're not sure we caught them before they could do anything," Steve said. "Brake pads good?"

"Right front Check," Robbie said, before wiggling over. Sif was doing the same in the rear.

Full systems check then.

Phil sighed. The car was in good hands. "Bucky."

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, without turning around.

"I'm putting you in charge of telling Clint, so he knows to do his own check."

"Copy."

Phil eyed the garage, before stepping out. He'd go find security and let Tony know what had happened. The crew was right, the race was unlikely to be delayed because of this.

*

"I don't know," Clint said. "Wade hasn't won one yet, maybe I should let him pass me?"

"That's not the plan," Phil reminded him. He'd made the podium a few times since giving his decision, but hadn't won yet.

"Yeah, yeah," Clint said. "Might be funny."

"You know what else might be funny?"

"What?"

Phil paused, mostly, because this was a tricky part of the track and Clint needed his concentration. Just as Clint hit the straightaway, Phil's voice came back on. "Winning the last race of the season."

Clint barked a laugh. "That would suck, be like not winning any races this season"

"Yet, you want Wade to win," Phil said.

"Alright, I've been convinced," Clint said.

"Good, as a reminder, other people can hear us," Phil stated.

"No fun," Clint said. Five more turns until the checked flag. "Wade doing okay back there?"

"Yes, helps that Hydra is on their best behavior."

"Well, after Rollins made me go upside down and flying and you know, the police investigation into meddling with my car…" Four turns

"Attempted meddling."

"Only because that PI gave Luke a head's up," Clint said.

Phil was quiet, but this was another tricky turn. Still it had the acknowledgement that Clint was right. If Jessica hadn't warned Luke, then the car might have been fully sabotaged.

Three turns.

Two turns and Phi had yet to say anything. "You leaving me?"

"The Wakanadan car had passed Wade, you've got a good lead on him though," Phil said. "Don't slack off."

"Yes, sir," Clint said as completed the penultimate turn. One more turn.

Clint cleared that and hit the finish line.

Hours later, back at the hotel, the celebration finally occurred as Phil leaned in and pressed Clint against the door, slotting his mouth across Clint's. Clint pulled Phil in, encouraging him to stay, but Phil pulled away. Phil's rough and ragged breathing reminded Clint of their one night together, causing his dick to take notice.

Phil was pulling away and Clint suddenly remembered Phil's three date rule. "Let's have dinner tomorrow night."

Phil smiled, a mischievous look in his eyes. "I was thinking you should get another win for another date."

"You utter tease!" Clint said, pulling Phil in for another kiss. "That would put sex on the table when we're in the Middle East if I only get dates when I win."

"That's in two weeks, you going to win three in a row?"

"If you're making it a requirement to get back in your pants, yes." He hoped, well the bravado was costing him nothing right now.

Phil chuckled, pressing a quicker kiss against him. "Good argument against. I'll think about it." He pulled away. "Congratulations Clint and good night."

"It's not a good night," Clint said. He held up his hand and pointed at it. "This is nowhere near as good as you."

"Charming."

"I'm going to…" Clint said as a door opened down the hall.

Both Clint and Phil turned to see Bucky walking out of a room, shoes in one hand and hair mussed. Bucky paused as he spotted them.

"That's not your room," Clint pointed out.

"I was visiting," Bucky said, moving past them. "How was the date?"

"Phil is sticking to his three date rule, but he's also thinking about only going on dates with me when I win."

Bucky paused. "That's not cool, Coulson. We all know he wants in your pants real bad."

"We pointed out we would be in Dubai in two weeks, which would delay things further, I've reconsidered. Two nights from now, I have plans for tomorrow."

"Hey Bucky, can you 'visit' Natasha for me on Tuesday? I had plans with her."

"I can try," Bucky said, making it to the elevator and pressing the button with a bit more force than needed. "I suggest being honest with her though."

"Yeah, I'm certainly going to tell her she needs to go easier on you. Like the new hairstyle," Clint said, snickering.

Bucky sighed, hitting the button again. The doors opened and Bucky escaped with an "Oh, thank god."

"Should we be concerned that he's leaving her?" Phil asked.

"No, Natasha doesn't sleep well when other people are in the room. It's how you know you're in, when she sleeps near you," Clint said. "He wasn't shoved out in his underwear, it's fine."

Phil arched an eyebrow, before sighing. "I don't want you to cancel plans with her."

"I know, but she'll understand. She's Natasha."

Phil hummed, looking at her door.

Clint grinned, reaching out while he was distracted to pull him into another kiss. "Sure, we can't say we already had two other dates."

"I'm sure," Phil said, pulling away, taking a minute to run a hand through his own hair. "Stop trying to one up Natasha. I'll see you in the morning for departure. Good night Clint."

"Good night Phil, I'll be thinking of you tonight."

"I'm aware and likewise," Phil said, walking toward the elevator.

Clint sighed and entered his room.

*

Phil supposed it was his own fault when he came down for breakfast to find all the tables pushed together except one two seater. This table had white tablecloth and a fucking candle. All other chairs were stacked up and in front of them was Bucky.

Phil sighed and went over to the table to wait. He was unsurprised when Natasha ushered in a half-asleep Clint, who was ungraciously shoved toward him. Still, Clint's sleepy smile upon seeing him made him a bit grateful. That gratitude lasted until the rest of the team arrived and he realized that Date 2 was the morning entertainment for the team.

It wasn't until Clint's third cup of coffee that he stilled, looked around at the table. "Wait, is this a date?"

Natasha cackled on the other side of the room. "Pay up suckers."