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It all starts because Wilson drives his car through a McDonald's.
To be fair, there were five thugs inside with guns and Wade happened to have Winona and Nathan in the backseat. He'd said, later, that he probably wouldn't have gone in if he was alone. Most likely. Definitely would've rethought his plan, at least.
When Phil told Clint about the whole shebang he learned that Wilson had a habit of naming his knives. Which was cool because Clint had a habit of naming his bows, and nothing said predestined bromance like the stupid humanizing-slash-worshipping of their antiquated weapons cache.
Anyhow, it happens like this:
First Wilson crashes his car into the McDonald's. Then he generally kicks ass and takes names with two swords and his mouth. He then goes on to save three kids, accidentally set the kitchen on fire, and finally gets arrested for vigilantism when the cops show up.
That's when Agent Carter gets wind of him, and by association (and because nobody can take a squirt of piss around the helicarrier without Nick Fury knowing about it) Fury, and somehow it ends up with Clint sitting here, not even a week later, with his eye pressed to the scope of his long-range crossbow watching this guy have a conversation with himself inside of a car.
There's no phone. Clint knows this because the little surveillance-gun-thingie Stark gave him has an amazing range, and he can pick up every word and smack of Wade's fist against the steering wheel. He's having an argument with himself about the merits of chicken quesadillas versus beef burritos. Clint just snorts when chimichangas end up winning whatever debate this guy is having, if only for the "fabulosity of the word" than the actual taste.
"Okay, sir, be honest," Clint says, incredulous, "is this some kind of, I don't know, bad prank that you're failing at here?"
"Eyes on the prize, Hawkeye," Phil says in his ear, cool and collected as ever.
"S.H.I.E.L.D wants to recruit this guy?" he asks.
"Fury thinks he has potential."
Clint throws his head back and laughs. "I think he's insane!"
Through the scope he can watch the flailing that goes along with the new rant about the dream he had about, eww, kissing a female version of himself.
This guy is going to be a real piece of work, Clint thinks in sympathy for whichever poor bastard is going to end up having to work with this guy in the very possible near-future. He saw the way those blades moved in the surveillance video footage, and knows that Fury had been right. This guy could be amazing.
If it weren't for that mouth.
Then again, Clint thinks as he starts to smile, that's what everyone said about me when I was a kid. Then he wonders if this is what he put Phil through in the beginning and he chuckles lowly.
"I kinda like him."