“Sit down, Barton,” Phil sighed and massaged his temples. This flight was going to be long.
“How long can a plane go without landing?” Clint was walking around the cabin, stopping to look at everything. He had already managed to break one of the window covers. They hadn’t even begun moving.
Phil looked up at the kid, who was currently investigating the air conditioning vents above their seats, and thank god it was a private plane. Why was he assigned to this?
“Depends on the size of the fuel tanks,” the agent said, eyes closed.
“Ok.”
Barton actually did sit down for a minute, feet up on the seat, perching there like a bird and peering out the window. The nickname made more sense now.
But Phil had more trivial matters in mind, like the upcoming meeting with the Director about Clint’s role in SHIELD.
Fury demanded to see Barton before deciding whether he would be fit to join them in the field. His office was all the way in New York, so Phil was to escort the seventeen-year-old ex-assassin halfway across the country via plane. This was Clint’s first flight, and, least to say, he was curious.
The aforementioned teenager was… where did he go?
“Barton!”
A head popped out of the cockpit, innocent as anything.
“Get out of there, and sit still for once in your life!”
Barton scowled at him, dragging his feet as he adhered. “C’mon, Phil, I was just looking.” He whined.
The agent pointed at the chair. “Sit.”
“Ugh…” The boy groaned as he sat down, facing him. And just in time, as the pilot’s voice rang through the speakers.
The aircraft shuddered as they pulled out into the runway, and Barton tensed up.
“Put your seatbelt on, Clint.” Phil said, slightly gentler.
The plane sped up, and the kid’s hands flexed. Phil looked out the window, and he copied. They watched in silence as they began to speed up rapidly, before taking off.
Clint’s mouth went slack as he watched the trees become smaller and the clouds enveloped the plane. “…Cool…”
Phil let himself smile a bit at his awe.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.