"The Weatherman"

"Well." Phil Coulson's smile was as fake as the 'leather' shoes he was wearing. (What? He was a weatherman; he cared about the environment. And people only saw him from the waist up, so it's not like they could tell.) "Moving on from yesterday's… unexpected snowstorm… in the middle of summer, let's look at the weather today. Up in the nineties around the state…"

He gestured to the board as he continued the weather report, and the forecast for the upcoming week. It recited everything on autopilot, made a smartass remark to return attention to the newsreaders, and remained in position until the ad break. With a heavy sigh, he met the cameraman's eyes. Trip grinned at him shamelessly.

"Love those freak weather events, don't you?" he said. Phil glared at him. "Come on, you've gotta admit that it keeps us on our toes."

"Keeps me on my toes," Phil said. "And it makes every forecaster look incompetent when strange things happen. Damn superheroes and villains making a mess of everything."

"You still sore about that time Iron Man accidentally brought down a wall on three cars, including yours?" Phil pursed his lips, and Trip checked his watch. "Hope you're wrong about the rain tonight, `cause I've got a date with a nightclub."

"Ask the Avengers," he snarked. "Damned if I know what's going to happen from one day to the next. Hell, one hour to the next."

"Meanwhile, Skye's always following them on Tumblr and Twitter and who knows what else," Trip said, nodding towards one of the publicity agents. Her head was bent over her phone as usual when they were filming. Phil glanced away, and met May's eyes. She smirked from her anchor chair, or at least as much as Melinda May ever smirked. Mack was her co-anchor, since Bobbi was on location, which explained Hunter's current moodiness. At least he remained cheerful on camera when giving sports updates.

'Ready to wrap up,' May signed just under the table. Phil gave her the subtlest of nods, and a few seconds later the 'ON AIR' sign came back on. May and Mack gave the studio's signature sign-off for the seven-thirty news, and they all did their fake-chatting thing until the cameras and sound were off, right on the dot.

"Thank God," Phil said. He noticed Skye scurrying over, and his mind began to whirl.

"It would help us a bunch if you kept up with your Twitter account," Skye said before he could even speak. "Mack, that picture from yesterday was great. It's still trending. You and Fitz are gonna have a wedding bigger than Charles and Diana."

"You weren't even alive when Prince Charles married her," Phil said, raising his eyebrows. Skye looked confused.

"Charles and Diana from the reality dating show," she said. "On this network."

"He's a Supernanny snob," Trip said, walking up behind Skye. She leaned into his side.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey, girl."

"Skye, would you be able to show me how this 'trending' works?" Phil said. Skye blanched.

"Oh my God, you sound ninety years old when you say it like that," she said.

"Skye…"

"Fine, okay," she said. "I'll send you an email with instructions and video tutorials. Will that do? Some of us have actual social lives."

Phil nodded. It was better to go along with her, because she had enough power to bring the building down around them if she wanted to.

Usually, Phil was professional enough not to keep his phone with him on set, let alone switched on. But he'd spent half the night and most of the morning on his phone, setting up the Twitter app… or whatever he'd managed to do, testing it, and following all the superheroes. He'd also worked out, from Skye's notes and a dictionary, how to identify trends and search for them. So when it got closer to the weather report, while they continued to film live with breaking news, he hopped onto Twitter, ignoring Trip's frantic signals, and scrolled through the tweets and hash-tags. He could hardly say 'Screw the meteorologists' on air – Gonzales and Weaver would have a fit, since this was supposed to be a family-friend time slot – but he could definitely ignore their reports.

"And now let's see what's happening with the weather," Bobbi said pleasantly, back on duty, and they all turned to Phil. He looked up from his phone, and smiled.

"Hello," he said. "Yesterday, the predicted showers obviously didn't happen, most likely because of the Fourth of July celebrations, and woe betide it rain on an Avenger's birthday… although it's Captain America, so that's alright. Today, the temperature nearly reached a hundred and two, five degrees hotter than predicted. Last night's predicted rain should've cooled things down, but hey. At least we now know that Thor is around, so we should expect the unexpected! According to the latest official Avengers tweet… ooh, no, second latest, he's here for another two days. Now, either this is real, in which case things should be back to normal by Tuesday, or it's a clever ploy. If it's a ploy, I would appreciate it if no weather 'beings' could mess around until he's gone, to keep us…" His lips quirked. "On our toes. Though it's awfully hard to be en pointe in gumboots, or so I've heard. Back to you, Barbara."

"…Thank you, Phil," Bobbi said. She and May looked very much together, but Hunter had hidden his face behind his right hand, shoulders jerking with laughter. Good thing weather came after sports, or they'd have a serious problem.

No one dared approach Phil during the break, so he continued to look over Twitter. He'd gained fourteen new followers during his report. He didn't dare look up again until Trip turned the camera back to him for the sign-off. Instead of a fake-chat, though, May grabbed Phil's wrist.

"What. The hell. Was that?" she asked, lips barely moving out of her camera smile.

"Unless Thor goes home tonight or tomorrow, there's no point in predicting weather for later in the week," Phil said, making sure his face was away from the camera. As soon as the sign-off was over, all their mics were switched off after a nasty incident involving Hunter calling Bobbi a tramp while they whisper-argued. She called him a prick, but since her mic was off only May and Phil heard it, so when it made headlines… But that was in the past.

"You'd better get going before Gonzales arrives," Trip said, tapping Phil on the shoulder.

"Thanks," Phil said. "See you tomorrow. I hope."

There didn't seem to be any repercussions, so Phil returned to the studio at his usual time, dressed, and read up the latest weather notes. He'd kept an eye on the weather himself, and visited the bureau, but his phone stayed with him. He noticed Weaver in the background where the audience sat on chat shows, which meant that Gonzales was probably around, a prospect which didn't scare Phil as much as it should've done.

"Please tell me you're not gonna do what you did last night," Trip said.

"My job?" Phil said. Trip couldn't really answer that. Then they were rolling, Phil was on social media, and also keeping an eye on the weather charts on the screen in front of him. It'd taken awhile to get used to the new technology, having to move in the opposite direction to what he was seeing. Like a reverse mirror. It still drove him nuts sometimes.

Then he saw Gonzales. It was hard to tell whether the guy was pissed or not, because his expressions didn't change all that much. So he stuck with reporting yesterday's and today's weather as usual. It wasn't until he hit the predictions that he paused.

"There was a large, round rune on a worksite that wasn't covered quite quickly enough," he said, seemingly off-topic. "Either we've got some more Asgardian visitors, or Thor's no longer on Earth. That doesn't preclude the possibility of bizarre weather, but we should continue to be in the late nineties for the next five days. A dip in temperatures is expected after that, but I'm sure it won't last long… oh, wait a moment. Someone's posted a picture of a firestorm on Coney Island. My guess would be less freak weather and more like mutant activity. Or maybe the Human Torch is letting off some steam. Can't tell much until we get more pictures. But if you're anywhere near Coney Island? Stay away from there if you don't want to be scorched. Now back to you, hot stuff." He winked at May and Bobbi, both clearly trying to suppress laughter.

Phil was safe while break was on, and spent the time scrolling through Twitter and Tumblr and searching Google for any additional pictures. With only ten seconds before the cameras were due to come back on, he leapt onto the anchor platform and whispered into May's ear. She arched an eyebrow, gave the briefest of nods, and Phil was back in place before Gonzales could burst an artery.

"In breaking news, it's suspected that Pyro is behind the firestorm on Coney Island," May said. "While he decides whose side he's on this week… please keep away from that area." Her lips twitched, and Bobbi's smile was threatening to break her face. They all held it together until after the sign-off, then the 'ON AIR' sign went dark, and Gonzales stormed over to them. Phil was leaning against the desk when he noticed his boss approaching.

"Coulson, what are you playing at?" he asked gruffly.

"Covering every possibility in an attempt to keep our news as accurate as possible," Phil replied, voice as bland as possible. "Sir."

"If this comes back to bite us in the ass, it's your ass that'll be fired, not mine," Gonzales said. "Understood?"

"Perfectly," Phil said as the studio's head honcho strode away, Weaver hurrying behind.

"You're a genius," Skye said, pointing at the screen of her phone.

"I am?" he said.

"You're trending, your segment is trending, the station is being praised for 'its innovative approach to real-time weather reporting'," she said, nearly bouncing on her heels. "This is great. It's excellent. I love you, Phil."

"Love you, too, Skye," he replied, bemused.

"Did you know that there's already a fan club for you on Facebook? Awesome picture of you for their banner. They've even photoshopped superhero clothes onto you!"

Phil checked it out, and grimaced. "Some people have too much time on their hands."

"You mean some people can multi-task."

"Delightful as this is, I have to head home now," Phil said. "Good night."

Three days later, Phil was out and about, doing his food shopping, when he noticed that Thor hadn't returned to Asgard; he was still around, and along with some of the other Avengers – including Captain America, squee! – he was meeting some of the people from Professor Xavier's school. The woman with white hair got involved in a long conversation with Thor; and when Phil finally placed her, and scrolled through Google to confirm his suspicions, he began to get a strange feeling about this.

That night, after the previous day's and today's summaries, he half-smiled.

"The Avengers and the X-Men have been interacting," he said. "Especially Storm and Thor. If they start dating, severe weather may follow. It would be even worse if they broke up. So please, if you're watching… for all our sakes, try to keep yourselves under control, would you? And if you really are watching this, Thor, if your blond warrior friend is visiting from your home planet, could you please give him my number? Thank you. Temperatures are expected to reach…"

He noticed that Hunter had wandered off set during the weather broadcast, and could hear muffled howling from a distance. He hoped their sports presenter would be alright by the time break came to an end. The threat of sleeping on the sofa would probably be enough to stop him from losing it on air.

"Good night," May finished, signalling the end of the news.

Phil still had his job two weeks later, which he counted as a win. People were talking about his 'crazy' predictions overseas, the Avengers were now following him, and while Fandral apparently wasn't on 'Midgard', according to Thor, Phil's request had been noted. Phil had forgotten about his flippant remark, and hoped that someone explained the concept of sarcasm to Thor. (Despite his well-known crush on Captain America, Phil definitely leaned towards men with darker hair.)

"In breaking news," he began (which was exciting, because he rarely got to do breaking news), "according to our sources, some idiot at AIM got together with another idiot at HYDRA and created a rainstorm over New Jersey. The toxic liquid is chewing through glass, so those in NJ, please stay away from all windows until the situation has been stabilised. And to the glaziers of New York, be prepared for an influx of calls. So long as…" he checked his phone, "the Fantastic Four? I think it's their turn? So long as they resolve the issue quickly, the rain shouldn't spread. However, if you see dark clouds above? Get out of your cars and into the nearest building. We'll keep you updated, and you can follow my Twitter account if the crisis isn't over by the end of the news." He turned his head towards May, and the cameras returned their attention to the anchors.

Fortunately, Johnny Storm was following Phil on social media, which meant that he was able to alert the rest of the team. They dealt with the deadly science duo, and Johnny even posted a picture of himself, with an at-sign to Phil's Twitter account, doing a thumbs up at the camera with the villains tied up behind him.

"Good news for New Jerseyians," Phil said at the end of his (un)usual weather report, and he held up his phone. "It seems the Fantastic Four saved the day again, complete with photographic evidence. I've been reassured that their weapon has been dismantled, and that Reed Richards is not allowed to tinker with it. The world is slightly safer for the next day or so, knock on wood." He smiled blandly. "And if Johnny Storm is watching again, thank you for the offer of drinks, but I don't think consuming flammable liquids would be the best way to celebrate a victory over acid rain, do you? Back to you, Melinda."

Suck that, Gonzales. Phil was getting invites from superheroes now. Who was the number one weatherman on the airwaves? That's right, Phil was.

Over the following weeks, Phil had to report on a frozen harbour when Bobby Drake, aka Iceman, came down with a cold. (And seriously, an ice mutant with a cold?) When Thor returned to Asgard without Storm, everyone else's predictions of a sunny week vanished completely, while Phil's tentative suggestion that things might not be so fine turned out to be right. (He'd seen the writing on the wall for days, based on a few reports of a feud between them.) Then there was unexpectedly choppy water off the coast, despite perfect sunshine, when some guy called Namor faced an underwater insurrection, Pyro came down with a cold, and… well, now any superhero news was left to Phil, regardless of its connection to weather. He had an actual desk, which he only left to show off his somewhat obsolete charts.

"We've just had a report of a flash flood downtown," Bobbi said. "Phil?"

"My guess would be burst water pipes, an unknown water wielder, since any known ones are ostensibly out of town at the moment, or… I don't know. Loki? He's the Trickster. Looks like his kind of thing, based on past behaviour. If anyone has pictures taken around the time the incident started, please let me know online. If it's just water pipes, could someone from the council get in touch with the studio? Thanks."

"I can rule out one possibility."

Phil definitely didn't jump or shriek, but he noticed a few behind the scenes who did, including Skye. Trip, thankfully, froze in place. Phil looked over his shoulder at Loki, who was grinning down at him.

"Hello," he said.

"I do so enjoy your weather forecasts, Mr. Coulson," Loki said, sceptre in hand and helmet adorning his head as he trailed a finger along Phil's shoulder blades. "However, I assure you that this particular flood is not of my doing. Guess again."

Then he had the nerve – the nerve – to bend down and kiss Phil on the cheek before disappearing. Phil pulled himself together with a huge amount of effort, turned back to face the camera, and cleared his throat.

"Apparently it's not Loki," he said. "Uh… I'll keep you apprised of the situation."

'TIME FOR AN AD BREAK!' showed up on the teleprompter, so May and Bobbi cut the segment short. Phil hurried away as soon as the camera lights were off, makeup people already there to check him. He was more interested in getting extra cover for the damn blush he could feel on his cheeks and sliding down his neck.

"Why me?" he muttered. "How do they find me?"

"You realise a supervillain just flirted with you on camera?" Skye said, waving her tablet in his face.

"No, he didn't," Phil said.

"He did. 'I enjoy your weather forecasts, Mr. Coulson. Please let me kiss your cheek in front of five million people, Mr. Coulson'!"

"Your English accent is appalling," he replied. "You need lessons from Simmons. And I thought it was six million now? Aren't you supposed to be keeping track of that?"

"He was flirting with you," Skye said sullenly.

"Get back to your desk!" Mack hissed, shooing Phil back onto the set. He returned to his seat with four seconds to spare, and scrolled down the new rush of tweets.

"Nothing concrete, nothing concrete," he murmured. Then the lights were back on and he shut up, just in case the mic came on. He checked the descriptions people were giving of the incident on Facebook and Tumblr, returned to Twitter and saw Instagram shots of a tall, muscular man who'd been seen around the time the flash flooding began. He sent some of the clearer shots to Fitz, to put in the background when Phil did his update.

"Phil, any more news on the flooding downtown?" May asked.

"It looks like a water manipulator is at work," he said. "Over six feet tall, apparently built like a brick outhouse. People are calling him Hydro-Man, not to be confused with the Nazi-based organisation HYDRA. At least we hope not." He cocked his head approximately five degrees, and his eyes flicked down towards his laptop. Okay, that was a new picture, and he glanced back up again. "Apparently he can also turn into water, though that could be special effects. Continue to send in updates, anyone in that vicinity, and remember to stay safe. We'll keep you posted."

While the regular news continued, he watched silent footage of Hydro-Man. He shot off a quick message on his tweet suggesting that someone freeze or burn him, or perhaps both, while he was in his liquid elemental form. If any of the superheroes were checking his tweets… well, it couldn't hurt, could it?

He stayed after the news had finished, while they were still waiting for the flash flooding to end. How hard could it be to get rid of a single nuisance? Did they ever have this much trouble with Loki?

…Actually, yes, they did. So he waited it out, promising Weaver that he'd stay as long as it took so that he could report when the latest water crisis was over. Honestly, lots of places in America desperate for water, and Hydro-Man, whoever the guy was, had to inconvenience everyone else? Lips pursed, Phil gave another update, then sneaked out of the studio and drove like fury to get to the scene of the flooding. He waded through the water, well aware that he'd be missed by now, and that people would recognise him, but damnit, he was a weatherman! He wasn't supposed to report on this kind of thing! That was not what he signed up for; it wasn't in his contract. (Yet.)

"Hey!" he called out, looking around. "Uh, Hydro-Man? Can I talk to you for a minute? My name is Phil Coulson, and I'm the weather forecaster on—"

"What do you want?"

Phil spun around, nearly losing his footing in the water. "Are… you the man who caused this flooding?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"…Could you please stop? It's pretty inconsiderate to the people who are just trying to get on with their daily lives—"

"And what about my life?" Hydro-Man said angrily, and the water grew warmer around Phil's legs. "It was ruined!"

"I'm sorry to hear that. It doesn't mean you should take it out on other people."

"You're a journalist. How can you be so naïve about the world?"

"I'm a meteorologist," Phil corrected. "And I'm not naïve. I'm just reasonable, which can't be said for you." The water was getting hotter, and he began to shift in place. "Are you trying to boil me alive? Because that's very impolite, and these shoes aren't real leather, so they're not going to give much protection. Listen, uh…? What's your name?"

"Morris."

Good thing he had a long career in live broadcasting, because he held it together.

"Morris," he said. "I'm sure you're a very nice man with just a few grievances against bad people. If you let me, I could help you?"

'Morris' – jeez, that was unexpected – looked around, and then glared at Phil.

"It wasn't my fault!" he said.

"I'm not suggesting that it was, Morris. What happened to you?"

Morris mumbled something about radiation and falling into the sea and recently finding out that he could turn into water.

"I'm sure that was disconcerting," Phil said. "Science is a tricky thing. I should know."

"No one wants to help me. No one's taking the blame!"

And he called Phil naïve.

"I'm curious about why you're flooding downtown New York. Could you explain your reasoning to me?"

"I live here."

"…And you're flooding your home why?"

Morris made a vague gesture. "Seems I can control water. Kind of. I was…"

"Practising?" Phil said. How had this become his life?

"Yeah," Morris said. It was almost sheepish.

"Well… tell you what. There are droughts in other parts of America. Why don't I send you there and see if you can help out? It's more helpful than bursting open a few fire hydrants. You'd be helping people, and I'm sure those who are responsible for your… current difficulties would definitely be compelled to apologise. On television. Broadcast live across the country, if I can swing it. How does that sound?"

Finally, the water stopped boiling, and it receded with a twitch of Morris's fingers. Phil didn't show his relief; he just patted Hydro-Man on the arm.

"Don't you feel better already?" he asked.

"Not really," Morris mumbled. "I can still feel it, all over me. And look." His left hand became water and fell to the ground, submitting to gravity, before he somehow summoned it back up to rejoin his body.

"Neat trick," Phil said, and Morris's jaw dropped. "Come on. I'll do whatever I can to help you. Follow me. I'd better update my Twitter so we won't have superheroes descending on us. Say, how good are you with blocked drains? Because my apartment building's been having troubles, but we don't know what's causing it…"

Phil got out of his car, his gorgeous cherry red Corvette.

"I'll try not to be late tonight, Lola," he said, patting the top of her driver side door. "It's okay. Daddy's just a very busy man these days."

"About to get busier."

At this rate, he was going to have serious heart problems. Did people enjoy scaring the life out of him?

"Who are you?" he asked, looking up at the tall man in a black overcoat which he really hoped wasn't leather, because how many cows died for that? Then he noticed the eye-patch, and began to suspect that this man was one of the supervillains who took pleasure in disrupting life in New York. But back to the matter at hand. "Please tell me that isn't real leather, or I'll have to describe the procedure from death to tanning to the conditions of the slave labourers—"

He was cut off by a slight eyebrow movement, and swallowed deeply. Oh dear. He was probably screwed, and not in a good way. (Unless the guy played his cards right. Phil hadn't been in a relationship in a long time, okay? That kiss from Loki was the most action he'd gotten in the past year.)

"Nick Fury," the man said. "You have a knack, Mr. Coulson."

"Well, I'm a trained meteorologist and a smartass," Phil said. "Call that a knack?"

"More the smartass part I'm interested in," Nick Fury said. "And your superhero-wrangling skills. You got Deadpool to shut up for five minutes straight, according to my sources. You've turned villains to mush just by talking to them, turned potential threats into heroes, and you don't notice when someone flirts with you, which makes you even more… endearing." It looked like he hated to use the word; there was even a twitch at the corner of his eye. "Have you ever considered changing career paths?"

"Are you kidding?" Phil said, taking half a step back and bumping into Lola. "After the fortune I spent on my science degrees and internships, not to mention the broadcaster training, and the years I've been with the same station? In this economy, I wouldn't risk switching anyway, and I'm happy where I am. I work with my best friends, and it's too late in my life to be switching tracks. Why would I change?" Sure, being the superhero reporter as well as weatherman could be headache-inducing, but it came with a raise when they rewrote his contract, so he couldn't complain too much.

"You'd get training in how to be a mission handler, could live where you wanted, maybe even Stark Tower if you became supernanny to the Avengers… including Captain America." That was just plain playing dirty.

"Thank you, but I'd prefer to stay where I am," Phil said, trying to step around him. "I'm going to be late for work. People like the weatherman Phil Coulson. If I wasn't on the air, who else would be crazy enough—"

"Or enough of a smartass," Fury said, nodding. "Ever change your mind, or decide to take up a day job, call me. You'll find the number on your refrigerator at home." He patted Phil on the back, nearly sending him to the ground, and then walked off.

"My refrigerator?" he muttered. "For the love of…" Damn superheroes, villains, and spies.

This was for a prompt in round 26 of the Avengers kink meme, page five. It asked for weatherman!Coulson, who factors superheroes and villains and mutants into his weather predictions for the week, making his reports the most accurate on TV. I put my own twist on the prompter's suggestions, and threw in Loki flirting with Phil for the laughs. Then other slashy moments happened, as well as background pairings, so… yeah.

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