"We'll see," Coulson said. "I'll tell them if they can accept another handler."

"Maybe they'll accept another handler if you tell them why," Avery offered, not turning around. A pot on the stove was stirring itself, the wooden spoon circling cheerfully.

"That's not my job," Coulson said. "Besides, they're agents, they knew it was always a possibility that they'd have to get used to another handler. The fact that I picked you two should be enough for them."

Avery was quiet for a moment.

"Clint wouldn't speak for nearly a month," she said finally. "According to his file, he literally would not interact with anyone outside of an official mission capacity for four weeks. And he barely said a word for another six. Natasha's been putting in more range time than is really healthy, and sometimes she refuses to speak, as well."

Coulson sighed. "I know," he said. "Fury told me." He didn't elaborate beyond that. He figured he didn't need to.

"They're going to reject us if they find out that I met with you and didn't tell them," Avery continued. "They'll never trust us, and we've worked hard for what little trust we managed to get so far."

Coulson considered that for several moments. That was true, but he wasn't sure if he was ready for them to know that he was still alive.

"I'll think about how to proceed."

"Think about it quick," Avery said. She waved a hand and the soup pot moved to an unlit burner. The lit burner turned itself off. "Soup's ready, sandwiches in five."

"I've got until at least tomorrow," Coulson said. "That's a relatively long time when we're talking about Clint and Natasha."

"Very true," Avery said. She stacked sandwiches on a plate and set it on the counter. "Alright, dinner's up for grabs."

Coulson nodded and went to go grab the children so they could get dinner too. FitzSimmons were excited and energetic. Thankfully Ward was quieter.

Avery expertly wrangled the kids into chairs and handed out sandwiches and mugs of soup.

"I can look after them if you want to take some dinner to your pilot," she offered, glancing at Coulson.

Coulson nodded and made a plate for Mae, taking it up to her. He figured it would be better if she didn't have to deal with the kids.

Avery settled in to look after the kids. FitzSimmons were both bouncy and chattering away, and Ward was just as quiet and irritable as before.

Mae looked over when Coulson came into the control cabin.

"How goes it?" she asked.

"The expert arrived and hopefully tomorrow we'll have a solution," Coulson said with a little sigh. "She also made dinner." He set the plate down on the empty seat next to her.

Mae raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" she asked. She glanced from the sandwiches to Coulson. "Interesting. Most agents wouldn't volunteer to cook."

"Indeed." Coulson shook his head. "And apparently the Avengers aren't taking to new handlers as well as I'd hoped."

"Are you surprised?" Mae asked. Almost all of SHIELD knew, at this point, how difficult Barton and Romanov were.

"No. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised." Coulson shook his head. "I might have to go talk to them."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Mae asked evenly. She wasn't telling him not to, she just wanted him to think about it. "These new handlers. Do you trust them?"

"I watched them well before the events in New York," Coulson told her. "I thought that one day the team might need another handler or handlers. They should work well with the team, if the team lets them. I picked them for that purpose, after all."

"I see." Mae considered that for a moment before setting the topic aside. "And this specialist. You trust her with this team now?"

"Yes," Coulson said. "She has an excellent record, and I know her to be an excellent agent, even if some of her methods are... unorthodox."

"Unorthodox," Mae echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I'd hate to see what you consider to be actually radical."

Coulson cracked a smile. "Considering what she's an expert in, that should tell you quite a bit," he said.