Several agents and ship’s staff are loitering in the hallway, staring or trying not to stare, as Clint leaves Fury’s office, and he realizes that they must have been louder than he’d thought.
After a moment Rogers comes jogging after him. “Did you just get fired?”
Clint wants to laugh. He has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all: at the last three weeks, at the way people move away from him instinctively as he hurries down the hall, at the inanity of the captain’s question. But he’s afraid if he starts to laugh he won’t be able to stop, and that won’t help Natasha.
“Come on,” he tells Rogers. “You heard Fury. Ten minutes.”
Frankly, there's way too much talking going on in this fic and not enough sexytimes. Sigh.