Fix Him

Title: Fix Him

Fandom: Avengers

Pairing: Barton/Coulson

For: cutsycat

Chapter: 22

Word count: 1,238

AN: *cackles cutely*

*~*~*~*

He was strolling through the club, eyes watching for the suspect as he moved through the various people, shooing people away with a flirtatious smile before continuing on his way to the bar and sitting down at it. Barton crossed his legs and waved down the bartender, ordering a soda so as to keep his mental capabilities free and open. He didn’t want to deal with his brain being full of fuzz from the alcohol.

Coulson was sitting back in the back room, watching him as he flirted with the occasional person that walked past or paid a bit of attention, eyeing the way he wore the dress. No matter how many times the man complained about wearing the damn dress, he wore it with quite a bit of ease, which wasn’t very surprising all things considered. The man knew how to wear a dress, probably from the past missions he had done in one and could pull off cross dressing male with just as much ease as he did wearing the dress.

It was rather amusing all things considered and he had a feeling that he was going to be dreaming about the man in that dress for days, if not for weeks after the end of this mission. Sighing, Coulson ran a hand through his hair and started running through the various camera feeds, eyes scanning for the one that was their target. He found him heading for where Barton was sitting, drinking his soda and flirting with the bartender whenever the guy came by to refill his drink.

“Barton, your target is coming,” Coulson said over the communicator, Barton looking over the rim of the cup and spotting their target. Smiling slightly, he crossed his legs, his dress hitching upwards and exposing a long leg and making the handler thank all that was holy that he was alone at the moment. The man was wearing rather nice jeans and a simple shirt, and walked like a predator.

“I see him,” Barton hummed back, hiding the fact that his lips were moving behind his glass as he lowered his eyelids with a small smile. Shifting as the target sat next to him, the archer tilted his head in greeting to the other man as he smirked, full lips flashing straight white teeth and making Barton’s instincts rear up at the fact that a predator was so damn close to him.

“Well, I’ve never seen you here before,” the target purred, eyes half lidded as he smirked and lent against the bar, resting his head on one hand. Barton crossed his legs and chuckled lowly at the other man, his own eyes half lidded as he tapped his fingers against his glass.

“I have never come here. I heard about it from a friend who lives here and decided to come on by on his suggestion for a good time,” Barton purred, making his eyes flare with promise. The other man smirked and tapped his finger against his bottom lip with a chuckle, the two men leaning close to each other. “So, is it really a good time here?” he asked, lips pulling into a wider smile at the smirk that came from his target.

“Why don’t I show you just how good it can be here?” the man asked, taking Barton’s hand and leading him out to the dance floor. Nearly half an hour later, the archer followed after the target with a smile on his lips, knowing that Coulson was watching him and tracking him. It was surprisingly easy to take the man out with a quick twist of his neck when his back was turned.

“That was so seriously easy,” Barton grunted as he stood over the dead body, the team already descending onto the warehouse that the target had taken him to. Stalking out, he slid into the car next to Coulson as the man cocked an eyebrow at him and drove away, knowing that the rest of the team would take care of the body.

“He actually got one of our people without us knowing about it. That part didn’t come out until the search team found his place and ransacked it,” Coulson stated as he started the car and headed off to the hotel room that they would use to relax for the night. “Found his state ID amongst the others and with four others that we didn’t know about,” he continued, handing over his Stark Pad to let Barton look over the new information that had been sent to him while he was following after Barton and the target. “The guy was good and changed his MO after his first four victims. Apparently, he buried them instead of just dumping them somewhere. It’s rather annoying that our information network failed on that.”

“I see,” Barton grunted, glad that he had snapped the guy’s neck when he had, stopping him dead in his tracks, to pardon the pun, making him shake his head. “This guy was good at hiding what he was and what he was doing while playing at being the good boy who went to church and did his job at work,” he mused, Coulson nodding his head as he stopped at a stop light.

“Name is Brinic Smith, age 32. Sexuality, as far as we can tell is whatever will spread their legs for him. From what the people found, he was a twig in high school, was heavily tormented by bullies and went the extreme when he shot up just before his senior year and was able to form some heavy amounts of muscle. There’s not much on his parents, but we have hints that the parents were on the high religious side of things and that formed his need to rebel in the most extreme of ways. I have a feeling that we’ll find some mental problems in his history that we’ll find when the computer geeks start digging around.”

“So I see,” Barton grunted, continuing through the information that was constantly being found, reading it with care. Coulson kept his eyes forward, trying hard not to stare at the long legs that the outfit showed, knowing just what would happen if he happened to look over.

Like hell was he going to have a boner while they were in the same car and on their way to a hotel room.

“I have a feeling that things will be rather interesting when it comes to this guy,” Barton finally said, shrugging with a huff and putting the Stark Pad aside, staring out the window. “Fury is going to be pissed when he finds out why that one agent dropped off the face of the Earth. You know his rule about dying without permission.”

“It’s not to happen if you save yourself like a good little agent,” Coulson snorted, remembering those words from Fury when he had almost died himself. Shaking his head, he pulled into the hotel and parked, the two men climbing out and heading into the room. Changing into better clothes and ordering pizza, the two men settled in for the night and worked on their reports of the night.

Without Barton noticing, to absorbed by the show, his report, and the pizza, Coulson watched the recording of the night, clearing up the images and making a video report to turn in.