cordeliabarton:

She glanced up briefly, wondering why he was being so nice. Sure, it was a human reflex to want to help someone you liked but why would a man like Eames, who so desperately wanted intel that was perfect for a million dollar sale on the black market, want to comfort an aging and now obsolete member of the agency he hated.

Because he’s your friend.

“You met Coulson once I think,” she murmured softly, looking out to the skyline because if she looked at him, she wasn’t sure she could tell the story. “He found me…under a lamp post in Central Park on September 20th, 2001.” Cordelia smiled in spite of herself. “He gave me his card, told me since the circus had folded up after what happened nine days before, they were lookin’ fer ‘extraordinary people.’ Folks who had skills beyond anythin’ they’d ever seen.” Glancing at her hands, she can remember the feeling of the edge of the card sliding into her hand. “I was homeless, had a criminal record an’ about a hundred bucks t’my name.” Her worn fingers on her left hand tracked the pad of her palm on the right. “S’I took a chance that he wasn’t a pervert and jumped in his car.”

Her eyes darted to Eames, who shockingly was still listening. “I didn’t know how I felt until he announced he was headin’ off t’the coast fer the second time in a span of a few months.” Her smile appeared and disappeared just as quickly. “He’d met a woman saving her from a—-a guy after an accident an’ I got so jealous.” Her eyes fluttered closed and she forced herself to say the next words. “I knew then if I had jus’ said somethin’ a while before or wasn’t his…” Her honey brown eyes opened, staring now to her shoes. “…protege, I’d have been the one he took on trips.”

She shook her head, the hat moving around comically. “‘M sorry Eames bu’, when ‘M with ya, not gonna lie, ‘M thinkin’ of him.” Cordelia rolled her lips in. “T’try t’get closure.” She had to laugh. “Maybe I’ll get the chance now, who knows?”

When he grabbed her arm, she could barely believe what she was hearing. Hawkeye was stunned. “Y’listen t’me say all that an’ y’still wanna see my face?”

He could tell by the look on her face that she hadn’t expected him to just sit there and talk with her. Cordelia more than likely expected him to take the drive, the information contained on it, and slip back into the shadows. Except Eames couldn’t do that. He wanted her to see him like this, to see that he could be a good man before everything went to hell. The opening had been given to him and he was going to take it. If HYDRA offered him the right amount of money he would not only sell them the information he’d gathered but his loyalty as well. That was what he wanted Barton to see – that he could be a good person, that if given the right circumstances he could be the sort of person people expected of him. He needed her to see this before everything changed.

“Yeah, I have met Coulson,” he told her, offering her more of an honest smile. The man – were he honest with himself Coulson was the sort of man he respected. And he might actually be the sort who could understand certain parts of him. But Eames had already chosen his path and there was no going back from it. Once people found out just what he was, what he really was they’d look at him differently, they’d wonder just how they missed it. A part of him actually felt guilty; some of those he worked with he’d learned to respect. But others? The others would get what they deserved. “Good bloke, honest and he’s earned my respect. Can see why you fell for him.” They may not have had the best of starts but they had made progress. Until it all went to hell and their worlds were turned upside down.

None of that mattered now. It was what it was and keeping his gaze on Cordelia, knew that her confession was mostly for her benefit and not his. Eames knew that things between them were casual, a fling every now and again. It was how he wanted it. “Hey, no need t'apologise t'me, love,” he told her, meaning the words. There were no guarantees of anything between them and there was no real need for apologies either. It was what it was. “S'not like we made this thing b'tween us official. It was casual, it was fun, it was some flings. Nothing more. S'no need to apologise to me, Barton.” If anything, hearing the apologies just made things – strange. He didn’t need them nor did he want them The casualness between them was what he wanted. And he’d thought so did Cordelia. Maybe he’d been wrong.

“Why wouldn’t I, hmm,” he teased in return, the smirk he flashed her back on the cheeky side. “You shouldn’t be alone and I’ve got a lovely little suite going t'waste. Why not just enjoy each other’s company for a bit. Least then neither of us have t'be alone.” But Eames knew the choice was up to Cordelia. If she wanted to come with him she would. If not? He’d return to the suite and enjoy it for one more day before slipping back into the shadows.

1. forgerextraordinaire reblogged this from cordeliabarton and added:

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