9Disclaimer goes here! (Aka I don't own any of this. See endnote for more details. And see – I'm using the word endnote in a fanfiction story. Yet more proof that school is taking over my life!)
"It isn't at all logical, Director, to keep this a secret."
"What are you, Spock?" Fury retorted.
"So many people who aren't Level Seven already know, why do you insist on this farce?"
Fury narrowed his eye and stared at Phil. Phil stared right back, unfazed. Then Skye passed by, walking extra slowly in a pathetically obvious attempt to eavesdrop. Fury turned his impressive glare on her, and she scurried away.
Phil continued talking in a quieter voice. "Director Fury, please. I know Clint and I have no legal rights regarding each other, but since when has that stopped you? Why do you insist on keeping me away from my partner? My son?"
Fury stepped closer to Phil, and, shoving a finger up close to his face, he said, "You are one of my best agents. Barton is an Avenger. I need you both to be focused.
Phil asked, "What's the real reason, sir? Is it the Council?"
Fury stalked away without answering, his long coat flapping. Phil watched him go, a frown etched on his face.
"So what were you guys talking about?" Skye demanded, seeming to pop out of nowhere. Phil managed not to jump, barely. Why wasn't she able to do this kind of things in the field?
In a short voice, he replied, "It's none of your business. How about you go back to your training." He walked away before Skye could say another word.
Skye trailed behind Agent May, sulking. They went into the cafeteria, where May got a wilting salad and a sandwich. May sat down at a table with a man wearing a black and purple bullet-proof vest and an oddly-shaped case on the floor next to him. Skye hesitated before sitting down next to May.
"Who's this?" the guy asked in a dull voice, barely looking at Skye.
"Skye, meet Agent Barton," May said, after swallowing her bite of lettuce. "How are you, Barton?"
Barton shrugged. "Did a couple boring missions, not much else. Sam still doesn't believe that his dad is . . ." Barton put his head in his hands. Skye sneaked a look at May. She looked determined.
"I heard you went to Tahiti," May said quietly.
Barton looked up. "Tahiti?"
May nodded slowly. "I've heard it's a magical place."
Barton froze. He went so absolutely still, Skye freaked out inside. He focused the most intense stare that she'd ever seen on May, and Skye had met both Agent Coulson and Director Fury.
"What did you say?" Barton asked in a voice that was barely a whisper.
May held his gaze without blinking or looking away once, which was more than Skye would have been able to do. "Tahiti is a magical place," she said steadily.
Barton picked up his case. "Where is he?" he demanded coldly.
May only looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Barton cursed and looked away, scanning the room. Skye looked around, too. All around them, agents were backing away and fixing wary glances on Barton. Barton cursed again and strode out of the room. May and Skye followed him.
Agent Barton stormed through the Hub, clearly intent on something. Skye saw Agent Coulson approaching, and was about to ask about what was happening, but Barton got there first. He grabbed Coulson's tie and peered into the other man's eyes. "Is it you?" he asked in a voice that Skye had to strain to hear.
Coulson nodded, not glancing away from Barton's intense gaze.
"Where were you?" Barton asked.
Coulson licked his lips. He looked almost nervous, Skye thought. "I was in Tahiti," he said. "It's a magical place."
Barton dragged Coulson closer and – to Skye's utter shock – kissed him full on the lips. Even more surprising, Coulson didn't push him away. Instead, he wrapped his hands around Barton's substantial biceps and carried on.
Skye turned to May. "Did you know about this?" she demanded.
May cracked a small smile. "Of course. This was exactly the result I was aiming for."
Skye snorted and shook her head.
Two days later, the team was readying the Bus for a new mission. Coulson came to join them just in time, looking happier than Skye had ever seen him. He was also wearing a ring on his left hand.
"About time," May noted, nodding at it. Coulson grinned. Skye flinched and hoped he hadn't been replaced by an alien.
Coulson flipped open his wallet (special SHIELD-issue – they could only be opened using fingerprint-recognition) and showed them all a picture of a laughing blond toddler, resting in the arms of both Coulson and Clint Barton.
"This is Sam," Coulson proudly announced. "Clint and I adopted him when he was a baby."
FitzSimmons cooed at the picture. Even Ward was smiling. It was faint, but it was definitely there.
"What about the ring?" Skye asked. "Why didn't you wear it before?"
Coulson shrugged but didn't quite manage to look nonchalant. "We weren't married before," he admitted. "We wanted to wait until New York legalized same-sex marriage, since Clint hates Iowa and we didn't want to go anywhere that doesn't have any meaning for us. Unfortunately, when New York finally did make same-sex marriage into a law, I was . . . indisposed."
"When you were in Tahiti?" Ward asked.
Coulson chuckled. "I was never actually in Tahiti. It was a code phrase between Clint and me. Though I suppose that's blown now."
He mock-glared at May, who looked utterly unrepentant. "All's well that ends well," she said.
From then on, Coulson spent less time working and more time with his family. His team heard more about Sam and even baby-sat from time to time. And Coulson smiled a whole lot more. Skye even heard a rumor that the Barton-Coulson family went on vacation to Tahiti for the first time.
Author's Note: I have no idea whether that special SHIELD-issue wallet that can only be opened using fingerprint-recognition is canon or not. I made it up. It sounds cool, though. Also, the phrase "All's well that ends well" that May used is not actually mine (or May's either, I guess). It's a reference to something that Ma in Laura Ingalls Wilder's books Little House on the Prairie. If you haven't read those books, you definitely should. They're about a pioneer family in the American West in the late 1800s. They're beautiful.