Work Text:
Technically, Phil Coulson was still on SHIELD's light duty roster. He didn't resent it; even with the best medical personnel in the world, surviving after being skewered by Loki's scepter had been a very near thing. Besides, being on light SHIELD duty gave him more time for his second, far more rewarding job, being the Defender to the Avengers' super-powered Trouble Magnets.
Somehow, Phil thought that if SHIELD's medical staff caught him at it, they would have issue with calling being a Defender `light' duty. It was bad enough when things were what passed for normal at the tower, but when the Avengers were hosting a Valentine's Day event for the rest of the Trouble Magnet/Defender group. . . well, taking on another villain like Loki was becoming more appealing by the day.
"Since you think it's such a good idea, you wear the glorified diaper."
Phil had been in the midst of scolding the caterers for chilling the Asgardian ale, but he immediately stopped what he was he was doing. Clint's voice had the tendency to invoke that reaction, especially when it had a growl in it.
Seeing that his lover was in a conversation with Tony Stark, Phil completely abandoned the caterer and headed over to them. Stark and Clint were friends, but given what Clint had just said – and the way he said it – gave Phil cause for concern. Not to mention the scowl on Clint's face and the mischievous smile on Stark's. The latter, in particular, was rarely a good sign.
"What's the problem?" Phil kept his face bland as he approached the other two men. Showing any sort of reaction just tended to provoke Stark further.
"The genius here thinks that I should dress as Cupid for the party." Clint's expression showed his distaste for the suggestion. He'd accepted being called Legolas and Katniss by Stark, but apparently Clint had limits.
Phil manfully tamped down the mental image of Clint as Cupid. The traditional costume was, after all, very revealing. . . .
Instead, Phil turned towards Stark. "Is that true?"
"Yes, it's true." Stark's grin got wider. "I am a genius."
For the 36th time that morning, Phil told himself not to strangle Stark. "About wanting Clint to dress like Cupid."
Stark smirked. "Well, he is an archer and it is the season of love; I thought it would be a nice touch for our guests."
"Yeah, that's right, I am an archer." Clint snarled. "Let's see how you like one of my exploding arrows right up your shiny, metal a-. . . ."
"Oh, look," Phil pointed across the room. "Isn't that Spider-Man talking to Captain Rogers?"
Distraction, Phil had learned, was one of the best ways to manage Stark when he was being particularly troublesome. It wasn't a lie, either. Spider-Man was indeed talking to Stark's lover. From the way the younger man was encroaching on the captain's personal space, there was some obvious hero-worshipping going on. Not that Steve looked like he'd noticed, no doubt he thought they were discussing battle tactics or some such.
"Excuse me." Stark's voice was tight. "I have a bug to squash."
Phil watched as Stark made a beeline towards where Steve was chatting with Spider-Man and didn't feel a lick of guilt for using the young man that way. If Spider-Man was going to flirt with Iron Man's boyfriend, then he'd better be prepared to deal with consequences.
Technically, Spider-Man wasn't yet part of the Trouble Magnet/Defender group. The young superhero had worked with the Avengers on an ad hoc basis a couple of times, however. While Phil didn't know him very well., even their few encounters had been enough to know that Spider-Man needed a Defender more than he needed to become an Avenger.
The young superhero wore casual clothes, but a full face mask. Clearly, Peter Parker was still under the delusion that no one knew who he was. Phil sighed; he'd be glad when a Defender was finally found for him. Superheroes, Phil could handle, but teenagers were a whole different kind of Trouble.
"You feeling all right, babe?" Clint had come up beside Phil. His eyes were dark with concern; a look that had been on the archer's face all too often for Phil's peace of mind.
"I'm fine." Phil shouldn't have bothered to attempt to reassure his lover; Clint went on as though he hadn't heard him.
"I knew this was too much, too soon." There was another hint of a growl in Clint's voice; obviously he'd been spending too much time with the Hulk and picked up some of the other guy's vocalizations. "I will not let you be run into the ground."
Phil was the Defender , but since his near-death experience, Clint was showing a new – and altogether too intense – protective streak. Although it was rather nice to be fussed over for a change, Phil couldn't let Clint's care of him negatively impact the younger man's own well-being. As far as Phil was concerned, Clint being stressed about Phil's condition fell into that category.
Like with Stark, Phil knew the best strategy would be to divert Clint's attention. Unlike Stark, however, Phil also knew he had to give Clint something useful to do or he'd figure out what Phil was up to. As a sharpshooter, Clint was far more focused than the billionaire playboy.
"There is something you can help me with," Phil admitted, biting back a smile as Clint immediately perked up. "Stark has augmented the tower's usual furnishings for the party and they're not entirely. . . appropriate."
Clint looked around and when he turned back to Phil, there was a sly grin on his face. "Looks like Tony decorated with an orgy in mind."
It was true. The top floor of the tower was a large, open room that was used for everything from strategy meetings to weekly movie nights. The large sectional was still in place, but numerous glorified bean bag chairs and the like, some in unusual shapes, had been strewn across the space. Floor-length curtains had been added in odd places around the perimeter of the room, making it possible to create semi-private alcoves.
Stark seemed determined to create an atmosphere that was more adult than the typical TM/Defender gathering. Phil had already had the party bags that Stark had created locked away. They'd been filled with a collection of high-end massage oils, lube and condoms. Stark had pouted about it for an hour.
"I think an orgy is exactly what Stark has in mind and with Ms. Potts in California and Captain Rogers unlikely to recognize the furniture for what it is, he's had a free hand." Phil gave his best entreating look to his lover. "There's nothing to be done about the curtains, I suppose, but could you see to it that the rest is removed before more of our guests arrive?"
"Sure thing, babe." Clint's expression looked a little calculating and Phil didn't need to be an experienced agent or Defender to know what the younger man had in mind.
"And, Clint," Phil's voice stopped Clint before he could turn too far away. "No more than one of those should end up in our quarters." He took a quick glance at the closest ones and licked his lips as he let the true benefits of their shapes tickle his imagination. "Maybe two."
Clint winked. "You got it."
There was a little sway to the archer's hips as he walked away and Phil licked his lips again. He'd give just about anything to go with Clint to their quarters and celebrate Valentine's Day in private. That was for later, though. At the moment, Phil had a responsibility to the party. He looked around for anything else out of place, but before he could find anything that needed his attention, a cultured, if disembodied voice, solicited his attention.
"Agent Coulson." JARVIS used Phil's real name when Stark wasn't around, despite his creator having programmed him to refer to Phil as Agent Agent. It was a sad day when an artificial intelligence was more polite than the man who'd developed it, but that was part of Tony Stark's charm. "General O'Neill, Special Agent Gibbs, and Detective Ellison have arrived. I took the liberty of giving them access to the proper elevator."
"Thank you, JARVIS." Phil's brow wrinkled as something occurred to him. "Just those three, there weren't any other men with them?" He'd been sure that everyone knew that this was a mixed party and that the Defenders were to bring their Trouble Magnets with them.
"Just the three gentlemen that I named." JARVIS answered promptly. "Although the exterior cameras do indicate that there are a number of occupied vehicles parked in the vicinity. I've scanned the license plates and many are rentals."
Phil had a feeling that he knew what was going on. The top Defenders had left their Trouble Magnets behind while they scouted the safety of the tower. Phil couldn't really blame them. Loki wasn't the only unfriendly who'd attacked the Avengers' home base. The majority of the Defender/Trouble Magnet pairs were humans without special abilities, both making the Trouble Magnets more vulnerable and the Defenders less capable of protecting them.
Knowing how fast the Avenger Tower's elevators worked, Phil hastened over so he'd be ready to greet the newcomers. Sure enough, when the elevator arrived and the men riding it stepped out, their eyes immediately started canvassing the area. Phil stood patiently until they were finished and their attention turned to him.
"Coulson, good to see you on your feet." O'Neill was the first to relax, but then he'd had experience with extraterrestrials and so took the Avengers in stride better than the others.
"Good to be on my feet, General." Phil's response was deceptively casual. "I trust that Dr. Jackson, Dr. Sandburg and Special Agent DiNozzo will be joining us soon?"
"Once we've approved the security measures." Gibbs replied in a steely voice. Once again, Phil regretted that the former Marine hadn't been recruited by SHIELD; he would have made a formidable operative. "Tony might be thrilled at the idea of rubbing elbows with superheroes, but I'm more worried about super villains."
The other two Defenders nodded solemnly. Apparently even General O'Neill wasn't as sanguine about it as Phil had hoped.
"The Avengers Tower is the epitome of secure," Phil stated with confidence. "It features the very cutting edge of Stark Industries tech. In fact, much of the security measures used in this building aren't on the market yet. I assure you that not so much as a mouse can get into this building without being detected."
Ellison snorted. "Like we're worried about mice."
"The building itself has been reinforced, even since the Chitauri incident. It can – and has – withstood the Hulk's best efforts." Phil explained.
O'Neill held up a hand to stop him. "The Hulk? The fact that he's around isn't exactly reassuring us, Coulson."
Phil shrugged. "Captain Rogers is also present and, should the Hulk make an appearance, he typically will follow orders from Captain America." Which was true, but usually the extent of the captain's orders were to smash, something the Hulk loved to do anyway. Phil didn't bother to elaborate. "Tony Stark has spared no expense in making the Avengers Tower the most secure building on the planet. It's where he resides; it's where his friends reside; and, most importantly, it's where Steve Rogers resides. Do you really think he would leave the captain's security to chance? Stark might be a Trouble Magnet and not a Defender, but he takes the safety of those he loves very seriously."
Ellison muttered something which sounded suspiciously like `It's the only thing he does take seriously."
"Besides," Phil acted like he didn't hear. Ellison, after all, had a point. "New York isn't the only locale that's been visited by super villains. I seem to recall the Avengers being called to Washington state to deal with a fog creature." He turned towards Gibbs. "And Washington, D.C. has been attacked on a number of occasions, has it not?"
Gibbs grimaced. "More than I'd like."
"We get the point." O'Neill took off his ever-present baseball cap and scratched at his hair before putting it back on. "Besides, we went through this already when we agreed to have the party here. The Avengers attract super-sized trouble, but they have the resources to deal with it. Let's bring the TMs in."
The other men nodded their agreement. As Ellison stepped aside to make a quick phone call, Phil was surprised to find that he'd tensed up. He hadn't realized how much these men's opinions meant to him. Even more than other SHIELD agents or the Avengers themselves, the Defenders were his peers.
"I see bug boy's here already." O'Neill nodded towards where Spider-Man was still standing awkwardly near Stark and Captain Rogers. Iron Man had neatly inserted himself between the younger superhero and his lover, leaving Peter an obvious third wheel. "Nice mask. Nobody's told him that we know he's Peter Parker?"
Phil shrugged. "There hasn't been a need to enlighten him."
"Huh." O'Neill glanced quickly at Gibbs before opening his mouth to speak again.
"No." Phil stated firmly before O'Neill could get a word out.
O'Neill glared at him. "I hadn't even said anything yet."
"You were going to ask me to become Spider-Man's Defender too." Phil replied. "And the answer is no."
"You're already the Defender for the Avengers." O'Neill pointed out. "What's one more superhero, more or less?"
Phil gave the general a bland look. "So you'd take on another TM, in addition to Dr. Jackson?"
O'Neill sputtered. "Hell, no. I want to live long enough to enjoy my golden years."
"I have five TMs already." Phil pointed out, then added, with emphasis, "And one of them is Tony Stark."
"But you have a lot of back-up," O'Neill pressed with dogged determination. "SHIELD, Ms. Potts, Romanov. . . ."
"And me, General." JARVIS' voice startled the other two Defenders for a moment.
Phil pointed at the ceiling. "JARVIS is the artificial intelligence that Stark built. It runs the building." Not to mention the Iron Man suit, but like a good deal of other items, the Defenders didn't need to know that.
"Indeed." JARVIS sounded as smug as any human. "And if I may be so bold, it took all of those you mentioned plus additional assistance from within your own organization to fill in when Agent Coulson was incapacitated."
"I still say that Coulson's the best equipped to deal with Spider-Man." O'Neill had a mulish set to his mouth, but for a man who worked for Nick Fury on a daily basis, it wasn't very intimidating. Phil decided, however, that it was time for a different tactic.
"Very well." Both Gibbs' and O'Neill's expression showed their surprise at his abrupt concession. "But if I take on Spider-Man, then you have to assume responsibility for one of my TMs."
"Wait a minute," O'Neill protested.
"And I get to choose which TM." Phil verbally rolled right over the other Defender. "And I don't think I have to tell you which would be my choice."
As one, all three of them looked over towards the bar area, where Tony Stark was currently showing Captain Rogers and Peter Parker something that involved olives and a stir stick. Phil had no idea what it was that Stark was up to, but from the shade of red that the captain's ears were currently sporting, it couldn't be anything good.
"He's got you." Gibbs pointed out, slightly gleeful. "Stark or Parker, take your pick."
General O'Neill was a solder, not a diplomat; he didn't give in graciously. "Fine, you've got me over a barrel. The Defender organization will continue to monitor Peter Parker until a permanent Defender can be developed and trained."
"It's not that bad," Phil tried to keep the smirk off of his face, but it was hard. "The Winchesters have survived for years without even figuring out if one of them is a Defender."
O'Neill scowled at him; the Winchester brothers and their underdetermined TM status was a sore subject. "You are an evil man, Coulson. Pure, unadulterated evil."
Ellison walked up to them. "The TMs and the other guys should be here in a minute." He nodded over towards the bar. "You would not believe what Stark's suggesting with the olives."
The other Defenders turned towards Phil, but he just shrugged. "When it comes to Mr. Stark, sometimes it's better not to know."
At that moment, the elevator arrived and a large group of men disembarked. Daniel, Blair and Tony came over and kissed their Defenders briefly before making for the buffet table. The rest of the newcomers joined them, with the exception of one particular pair.
"Are Potts or Romanov here?" John McClane warily peered around the room.
"Neither are currently on site." Phil assured him. In fact, the two women had opted for an evening at the spa. "More importantly, Dr. Foster is also not on the premises."
"Foster?" McClane was confused.
"Prince Thor's significant other." Phil told him. "She and Thor had plans for the evening."
McClane grimaced. "Let me guess, she's not a yippee-ki-yah fan?"
Phil nodded, glad that he wasn't the one on Jane's shit list. "That's an affirmative."
The New York detective had been one of the men who'd helped out Defending the Avengers while Phil was in the hospital. During that time, Thor had picked up some colorful language from McClane, much to the frustration of the women who'd also stepped in to help.
"How does he do it?" McClane threw his hands up into the air in disgust. "The man's as big as a tank and yet he's got all these women looking out for him."
"Must be the hair." Gibbs' face was solemn but there was a twinkle in his eye.
"Must be." O'Neill agreed.
Phil joined the other follically challenged Defenders in glaring at them.
"Hey, bald is beautiful!" Matt Farrell, McLane's TM, wrapped his arms around his Defender.
Gibbs was spared further responses to his jibe by a commotion on the other end of the room. Tony Stark had climbed up on a chair and was tapping on a champagne glass to get the crowd's attention.
"Thank you." Stark bowed to the gathered men after they'd quieted down. "And welcome to the Avenger's tower. This place has withstood the ravages of Loki and various other bad guys, so I'm fairly confident that it will be able to handle the dreaded Sandburg-Jackson Effect. Or is that the Jackson-Sandburg effect? I always forget."
There were some hoots from the crowd and both Blair Sandburg and Daniel Jackson stepped forward to take a good-natured bow. The two men were amongst the most notorious of Trouble Magnets, to the extent that it was theorized that having them both in the same place would exponentially increase the chances of Trouble happening.
"I had nifty activities and party favors planned," Stark continued, "but a certain Agent Party Pooper put the kibosh on that."
Stark gestured towards Phil and everyone turned towards him. For a SHIELD operative who functioned best out of the limelight, the attention was disconcerting.
"And we thank you for that," Ellison said quietly. "I saw some of the stuff they were carrying out of here. Last thing we need is for NYPD's vice squad to bust the party."
"I'm happy to report that Agent PP did not get to the buffet table, which is loaded with plenty of oysters and champagne and other goodies designed to get your motor running." Stark waggled his eyebrows and his eyes, when they briefly landed on Phil, had a hint of challenge in them.
In fact, Phil was well aware that Stark had loaded the buffet with food and drink items reputed by several cultures to be aphrodisiacs. Since there was no truth to the claims, however, Phil had decided that the buffet menu was harmless enough and let Stark have that small win.
"There's not a candy heart, heart full of candy, or flower bouquet to be found in the place," Tony went on with a leer. "But the tower does have dozens of bedrooms, so if you find yourself in the mood, help yourself to one. Just remember to lock it behind you. Right, Steve?"
"Tony!" Steve Rogers rubbed his forehead as looked anywhere but at the men around him.
If Phil thought the captain's ears had been red a few minutes before, they practically blazed after Stark's last comment. He had cause to be embarrassed The episode where Natasha had walked in on Stark and the captain when they'd been using one of the extra bedrooms was infamous amongst the team. Why the couple didn't use their own bedroom was a mystery, but personally, Phil had a suspicion that Stark had left the door unlocked on purpose.
"For those of you who are a little more traditional, we've got a variety of rom-coms, although you might need to check your balls at the door if I catch any of you actually watching them." Stark made a grand gesture and the large televisions on each wall lit up, each showing a different movie. "Later, after the libations have flowed enough to loosen tongues, we'll break out the bad love song karaoke."
"So, eat, drink and be merry." Tony raised his glass. "There'll be a band later, for those of you who want to dance or simply grope each other on the dance floor. Until then, suck `em if you got `em, I know I certainly intend to."
With those final words, Tony jumped off of the chair and, literally, into Steve Rogers' arms. He kissed the captain soundly and, of course, had managed not to spill a drop of champagne. Sighing at his most troublesome TM's antics, Phil turned back to his fellow Defenders. To a man, they were staring thoughtfully at Stark and Captain Rogers.
"I'm not so sure that pairing is a good idea." O'Neill's voice and face were full of concern.
"Rogers seems a bit naïve for the likes of Tony Stark," Ellison added. "That man will eat him alive."
Phil felt a flare of irritation that the other Defenders would comment on two of his charges – and also a bit of jealousy that they were being protective of his idol, Captain America. It only lasted for a moment, however, as he realized that his colleagues didn't have the information that he did.
"Captain Rogers is a man in his early twenties," Phil pointed out. "He spent most of his time in ill health, so even if anyone had been open to a romance with him, he likely would not have been well enough to act on that attraction."
O'Neill was quick to get impatient. "We know that."
"After he became Captain America and had the physique to attract partners, there wasn't any opportunity for a mundane activity like dating." Phil continued. "First the war propaganda effort kept him busy and then he was in the midst of a war. Then there was the ice."
"Your point?" Ellison asked.
"My point, gentlemen, is that Steve Rogers is a young man in his prime – and after years of watching everyone around him get involved into romantic relationships, it's only now that the captain finds himself with the body, the time and the person that he wants to be romantic with." Phil had to work not to blush. "Think of when you were in your twenties and imagine the kind of . . . tension . . . you would have experienced if you hadn't had an opportunity to burn some of it off."
Gibbs snorted. "What you're saying is that Captain America was a virgin in his sexual prime with a newly souped up body and a serious case of the post-battle urge to get laid."
"Dear God," O'Neill said in a hushed whisper. "It's a wonder he hasn't broken Stark yet."
"And that's not taking into account the. . . stamina. . . that the serum provided." Phil put it as delicately as he could. "We've started giving Mr. Stark vitamin shots."
"He's not the only one that danger of being rundown."
Phil startled a little as arms wrapped around him from behind. His ingrained response was to defend himself, but he recognized Clint's scent almost immediately and relaxed back into the hold.
"I'm fine, Clint." He reached up to pat the other man's cheek. "You worry too much."
The other Defenders looked at each other knowingly. It was Gibbs who spoke. "You look a little thirsty there, Coulson."
Clint grabbed on to the comment. "Are you, Phil? I could get you something to drink."
Knowing a diversionary tactic when he saw one, Phil nevertheless played along. Obviously his fellow Defenders weren't done talking to him yet and had something to say that they didn't want Clint to hear.
"I am a little parched." Phil pretended to admit. He almost gave himself away with a sigh when Clint dropped his embrace.
"Okay, but nothing with booze in it." Clint headed directly in the direction of the bar. "You know you can't drink that stuff with the medication you're on."
Ellison chuckled softly as Clint disappeared into the crowd. "Don't worry, it'll get better."
Phil didn't quite follow him. "What?"
"First time you've been seriously injured since Clint's been your TM?" Gibbs asked.
It took a minute for Phil to think about it. "Yes, I guess it is."
"They get real wound up when we get hurt," O'Neill explained. "It's kind of nice when they're so attentive, but not when it stresses them."
That was almost exactly what Phil had been thinking earlier. "What do I say to reassure him?"
"Seeing their Defender severely hurt traumatizes a TM. They get all confused and can think it's their fault, even if they have nothing to do with it – and forget about it if you get hurt Defending them." Ellison shook his head, a sad look on his face. "There's nothing you can say to convince him that you're gonna be okay."
"Nothing?" Phil was dismayed. He did not like the idea of Clint staying at his current level of stress.
"There's nothing you can say, you have to do." Ellison corrected him.
"What he means is that you're gonna have to show Clint that you're okay." Gibbs explained. "Actions speak louder than words."
"You can start by nailing him through the mattress." O'Neill grinned. "That ought to pound the doubt right outta him."
Suddenly, Phil's tie felt way too tight. "I- I can do that."
O'Neill slapped him on the shoulder. "Thought you could."
With that, the other three Defenders left Phil to his thoughts and moved off to join their own Trouble Magnets. Phil wasn't alone long, though. Clint returned a few moments later, a glass of iced tea in his hand. Phil all but snatched it from his hand and downed it, without uttering so much as a thank you.
"You okay?" Clint was, yet again, frowning with worry.
Phil put the now-empty glass down on a nearby table. Once it was safe, he turned to Clint, grabbed the younger man by the shirt and yanked him for a deep, sloppy kiss. When he finally released his lover, Clint's lips were reddened and his eyes dazed.
"I'm fine." Phil belatedly answered the TM's question.
Clint ran a finger over his lips. "Yeah, I guess you are."
Phil abruptly decided that his responsibility to one TM outweighed his responsibility to the TM/Defender party. He glanced around the room briefly and met O'Neill's eyes. The general nodded at him and Phil knew the other Defender would see to it that the party stayed on track.
"I think I need to verify that you stowed those furniture pieces properly." Phil snaked one arm around Clint's waist.
"What about the party?" Clint's eyes were dilated, so Phil figured that the question wasn't a serious one.
"We can stay if you like," Phil called Clint's bluff.
Clint folded easily. "To hell with the party, let's go."
Arm in arm, the two beat a hasty retreat. At the last minute, Phil made a detour to the supply closet where he'd stashed the gift bags that he'd confiscated from Stark.
Oil. Lube. Condoms.
Phil was going to need all the supplies he could get if he was going to convince Clint that he was fully recovered. And convince him, Phil would - even if it took all night.
~the end~