3. Chapter 3

Steve did not fall in love with Coulson, because Coulson was in a relationship with Steve's best friend and even he knew that was a bad idea.

Phil got his own suite of rooms at the tower and was reinstated as the Avengers liaison with SHIELD since they all flat refused to talk to Fury, including Steve. Clint moved in with him immediately, and the first few weeks of Coulson's return, Clint followed the man around everywhere. It was sweet, if slightly creepy, but Steve couldn't fault him for it.

Finally, though, things calmed down and Clint started sparring with Steve again and joining him for long motorcycle rides when they both had free time (which was often, because being a super-hero was more of a part-time gig). Things shifted back to how they had been before Coulson, and while it was a comfortable routine for Steve he was getting bored of it. It had been over six months since he had come out of the water, and for better or for worse, Steve felt that he had finally adjusted to his "brave new world." He missed Bucky and Peggy and even, in a strange way, being in a war that was fairly clear-cut and honorable (compared to what he read of about the wars that came after). Part of him was lonely, and he would always be a man out of time, but neither was he one to sulk around, licking his wounds.

"Captain," Phil said one afternoon when Steve visited him at his "SHIELD remote location" office on the 34th floor of the tower. "May I help you?" Coulson smiled at him blandly, which Steve had learned was his default "I hope no one is invading Earth before lunch" pleasantries.

"Have a second?"

Phil nodded, putting his computer on hibernate so it shut down the holo-screens he had been reading. "Of course. Have a seat."

Steve settled and took a moment to frame his thoughts. "I'm Captain America. I have a job with the Avengers, which is important. But we are not in a state of war, so I find I'm at a loss with my time more often than not. Yet, I feel I have skills to offer, and would like to volunteer for…something." He shrugged.

"Already tired of dragging Clint around the whole of New England on your bikes?" Phil smiled.

"No! Although I hope you don't mind our trips," Steve hazarded.

Phil gave him a very slight shrug. "Clint Barton is his own man." Then he leaned back in his chair. "Unfortunately your skill sets are very unique, and of limited value in this day and age. Although…" Phil trailed off.

"What are you thinking?" Steve scooted forward on his chair a little, trying not to seem eager and failing entirely.

Phil sighed. "The Loki situation took out a number of senior agents." He kept looking at Steve thoughtfully. "We're short handed."

"Then put me work!"

"We could. There are various projects going on related to the rebuilding of Manhattan, and you'd do well as a trainer in our hand-to-hand combat classes. But even that seems a waste, I think." He looked lost in thought.

"What are you thinking, then?" Steve leaned in.

"You've got leadership experience, your clearance level is high enough, and you're a master tactician."

Steve felt himself flush. "I do okay."

Phil tipped his head, his expression conveying his disbelief, but he didn't pursue the issue. Instead he tapped the desk with his long fingers. "As I said, we lost critical senior agents. We need replacements, yesterday. If you're willing to get a crash course in operations, I think you'd make a first class handler."

"A handler? Like what you do?"

"I'm more the Avenger's liaison now, although yes, technically I am the SHIELD handler for the team."

Steve took in a large breath, and Phil just watched him closely. "I know what you do, but is that reflective of what SHIELD handlers do regularly?"

Phil shrugged. "It's not too different from leading a team, and you did that very well with the Howling Commandos and you do that well now with the Avengers. The focus is usually short term operations, and we generally work in teams of five or less. The biggest challenge for you, I think, will be holding back. Handlers are the operations managers of a mission, we pull everything together and we can't do that from the front lines. Seeing the big picture of a mission requires a little distance."

"I've seen you in the field. And you took on Loki."

Phil grimaced but otherwise held himself in check. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. I've lead teams in to rescue my people, and I took on Loki because quite frankly no one else was around to to do it. Literally. I don't like sending anyone to their death but I've done it before, I'll do it again, and it's a poor leader who isn't willing to make that decision for himself when the time comes to walk into that room and point a gun on a god."

Steve stared at him, his breath taken away by the pure unselfconsciousness of Phil's earnest beliefs. There were few people who hewed the line that Steve walked himself, and Phil sat in his chair talking about self sacrifice as if it were the most normal thing in the world. If Steve believed in anything so fantastic, he would have declared them blood-brothers on the spot. He wondered if, when he had as many (actual) years under his belt as Phil, he would be as calm and self confident.

"Steve?" Phil's expression turned slightly concerned.

Steve shook himself mentally before nodding. "I can do that. I don't have to lead the charge every time, as long as I have confidence in the plan and my people."

Phil smiled and Steve's gut went embarrassingly mushy. He cursed at himself silently — he had no right to go feeling that way about his best friend's "partner" (the new-fangled term that Steve had picked up via google for male lovers, not that he had been doing any research on that or anything).

"You never went to officer school."

"World War II was a little crunched for time." Steve nodded in confirmation. "I had to wing it."

Phil laughed, deep and soft. "True. However, SHIELD will put you through leadership training, and I suspect it will be something of a challenge for you. It was for me."

Steve found that hard to believe about Phil, but he nodded.

"This position would also require you working for Fury directly." Phil looked at him expectantly.

"I feel I'm capable of putting personal feelings aside for the sake of the job, Agent Coulson," Steve said firmly. He wanted to impress Coulson, make him proud of him in a way he had not really felt since he had first met Dr. Erskine.

Coulson stared at him, his eyes glittery and hungry, assessing Steve like a butcher carving up steak.

And that was how Agent Rogers was born.