It wasn't necessarily something Clint would think however. But he usually would guess that was par for the course when it came to being a handler. Sometimes they would just have the troublesome agents, who enjoyed spending time coloring on their finished piles of paperwork with a purple crayon. That was the norm for them. Clint trying to be the "lone wolf" and Phil being around to make sure he didn't crash and burn. It wasn't something they quite planned, but it worked.

"Out. I didn't realize I had a curfew," his tone was mocking as he looked on at Phil. Of course, he couldn't tell what emotions planned through his eyes. No playful glint that they usually carried. If he weren't wearing his sunglasses, it would be a different story. There was no sarcasm on his face that played openly through his voice. Clint was annoyed, needless to say. The "Avenger's" body tensed up when Phil grabbed his arm in a tight grip. "If you needed me you could've called." Not that he would have answered. Clint had received several calls from people in SHIELD, a joke of a text from Steve who was barely learning how to use his own cell phone. A couple messages from Stark regarding some upgrades to his bow. None of which were answered. None of which he cared about.

Registering Phil's action to take off his sunglasses before putting his free hand over Phil's was the only move he could make that didn't actually have him cause his handler physical harm in the middle of the hallway. "Nothing happened. I'm fine. Is that all you need, sir?" Of course, his presence was supposed to be something slightly undetected. If anyone else had put their hands on him, Clint wouldn't have thought twice. But it was Coulson and he fought through the binds in his mind that made him Loki's attack dog not to hurt the man in front of him. He'd sooner hit Rogers than Coulson.