Phil leans toward Tasha a bit when she reaches out and there's a soft smile on his lips. He knows he should pull away, that this is far too familiar for an agent and her handler. But right now, Phil can't find it in himself to care. He's spent the better part of his life being the stoic secret agent. Keeping everything under wraps. Not exactly the best way to form relationships, but he's been married to his job. Her hand is there only a moment too long before he's reaching up for it, fingers locking loosely around her wrist. He pulls it away, but he doesn't release it. And he's really not certain why.

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again, not sure what he wants to say. Not sure if there's anything he can say. Instead, he looks at their hands for a moment. They both have blood on their hands, though few people realize it of Coulson. He's not just the mild-mannered man in a suit. One doesn't get to where he is in the SHIELD ranks by sitting in an office doing paperwork. Though God knows, he does enjoy the routine that brings.

"I don't know what's going to happen over the next few days, Tasha. Not even Fury knows. Whatever happens, though..." He stops because he still can't put things into words. So he just gives her a smile. A rare thing for him.