I don't own the Avengers, movies and comics. They belong to Marvel and I'm sadly not part of it.

I'm not sure where the idea came from but I had to get it out of the way or else I'll never finish my other fics.

I hope you enjoy it, at least just a little.

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Clint left Fury's office, he took a deep breath. The older man knew about his and Coulson's relationship but asking him for a favor was something else. Fury was kind enough to hear him out before he burst into laughter. Clint was shocked to see the stoic man laugh, it was still kind of cold and reserved but it was a laugh nonetheless. Fury called him incorrigible and romanticist, though he wasn't sure if he meant him or Coulson. Most probably he meant both. What bothered Clint most was the sarcasm dripping from these words but Clint came to the conclusion that, for normal people, his request wasn't meaningful at all.

Barton asked Fury for a new service weapon for Phil, with a silver ring around the handle and gravures on it. He wanted their initials and date of marriage embedded in the silver, with enough decoration around it to not catch everyone's eye instantly. They couldn't wear their wedding bands at work and it was almost impossible to wear them outside of work, in case they had to head out as soon as possible. The ring could give their marriage away, even though fraternization wasn't an issue Phil wanted to keep it quiet. Natasha had called him Jeannie once but after he put some itching powder in her panties, they were stationed in a military base in the middle of nowhere; she decided to harass him otherwise. Her argument for calling him Jeannie was that he was a hidden secret and every time she came over and her visit wasn't expected, Hawkeye vanished into thin air until Coulson gave him an okay. Once she entered Coulson's office together with Steve rather quickly and she saw how the bars of the ventilator shaft closed quietly. He told her that it was okay with him, he was used of hiding but she gave him a strange look in return. He's still sure there was a hint of pity in her gaze.

Coulson was important for SHIELD and he couldn't risk losing the respect of his men. Authority, respect and trust were important to lead a unit into the field.

Clint entered Phil's office, not bothering to knock, "Hey, sir."

Phil didn't look up from the pile of files, "What can I do for you, Agent Barton?"

Clint smirked, "I'm a little bored and I though you could help me out."

"I'm busy," his fingers danced over the keyboard, tipping a report.

"You look like you could use a break," Clint leaned against Phil's desk.

"I don't need rest Agent, but I need silence," he continued to tip his report. Clint sighed and left the office. He returned ten minutes later with a big cup of coffee and sandwiches. He placed them on Phil's desk. "At least eat," he turned around to leave; Phil wasn't in the mood for his games that day.

He could hear a soft 'thank you' before he closed the door on his way out.

Something was bothering his husband but he couldn't figure out what it was, they normally had no secrets.

"Maybe he isn't allowed to speak about it?" Natasha offered during lunch, she sensed his thoughts.

"Is it that obvious," it wasn't a real question.

"I know you guys for years. There's nothing you can hide," she grinned.

"He keeps his distance and I don't know why," Hawkeye put his sandwich down.

"Be patient," her gaze wandered to the other end of the room. Two junior agents were talking about anal retentive and heartless superiors. Their main theme was a mission two days ago. Hill and Coulson had shared an operation to annihilate a lab. They searched for the ultimate virus for a biowarfare but SHIELD was fast enough to spare humanity the pain. Six junior and one of the senior agents lost their lives in the wake of an explosion. Tony had bruised ribs and Clint was hit by a piece of shrapnel on the arm but it was barely more than a long scratch.

"These idiots got two of my buddies killed," one of the junior agents hissed. Clint raised a brow while he pulled one of his knifes out of their hiding place, Natasha gave him a little grin.

"Especially Agent C….," the young agent stopped suddenly, a beautifully crafted knife missed his nose barely by one millimeter and buried itself in the wall.

Clint rose from his chair and strolled over to the younger agents. "It's not clever to insult superiors in public places like the cafeteria. Who knows who is listening," he pulled his knife out of the wall and cleaned it from dust on his pants. Phil bought him the set of knifes a few months ago; they looked like a mix of military and lord of the rings. Tony asked him if he tried to be an elf but Clint simply said, 'I'm awesome so my weapons have to be awesome too and these knifes are pretty awesome', the corner of Phil's mouth had twitched at that but that was the only indication that he cared about their banter.

"Keep your opinion to yourself," he warned and put his knife away. Clint walked back to Natasha.

"He aimed at my face," the junior agent shrieked after he realized what exactly happened moments ago.

One of his companions scratched his forehead and replied, "He didn't aim at your face."

"How do you know?" the young agent grew angry.

"Because Hawkeye never misses," another agent answered his question. The young man paled visibly.

"It's always funny when you scare off the fledglings," Natasha waved at the young men at the other table as they took their guts together to look at Hawkeye and her. They paled even more, if that's even possible.

"Phil doesn't like it at all, at least that's what he says but I'm pretty sure he laughs his ass of inwardly," Clint grinned.

"He loves your pranks he always did," she confirmed and the sadness vanished from his eyes. "So what do you get him for your anniversary?" she leant forward and whispered.

"I requested a new gun for him and I want to get a new tattoo," he whispered back, "but I'm not sure about the motive."

"Hmm," she considered for a moment. "Let's meet after work and figure it out," she offered. He loved her for that; she was like the sister he never had. She was family, just like Phil.

"You just want to see it first," he mocked.

"Of course I do," she huffed before she got up. "Now, let's cause some mischief until we clock out," he grinned and followed her.

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They visited the best tattooist in town and talked for a long time before he drew the perfect tattoo for their anniversary. He didn't get permission to wear his ring but not even Phil could prohibit a new tattoo.

"He'll love it," Natasha said convinced and the tattooist nodded in agreement, it was one of his best works.

"You think?" he looked up, hope in his eyes. Natasha was always surprised how low his self esteem could be for someone who was known for his impudent and cocky behavior.

"I'm sure," she reassured, examining the tattoo. Above his heart was an infinity sign, through the first circle of the sign flew a falcon and the second circle belonged to a strong and proud black panther, looking towards his hawk.

The tattoo was rather big with a 3D effect. "It's awesome," Hawkeye's self-esteem was back to normal thanks to Natasha's confirmation.

"An endless circle of love," the tattooist sighed. "I wish I had that too."

"Be patient," she patted his back, "they danced around each other for years," she pointed at Clint.

"Hey." Clint huffed, "we only needed a little longer to bond than others."

"He hated your guts," she raised a brow.

"No he didn't," his voice softened and he believed in what he said, she could see it.

"No he didn't," she repeated with a little smile.

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The day of their anniversary had come and Fury had used a quiet moment to slip him the new gun. Clint nodded a thank you and hurried to the locker room to hide the gun until he finished work. He used the ventilation shafts to make sure no one interfered with his surprise.

Just before Phil finished his last report for the day, he got a call and the order to support a fellow agent and his team. He hurried out of the office, not giving Clint a message.

Clint could go up the wall; he was waiting for his husband for four hours. He tried to call him but didn't get an answer.

As the clock stroke midnight his initial inner turmoil was only describable as sheer panic.

~ Shall I search him? What if he comes home in the meanwhile? What if he's hurt? What if he's dead? Face down in the dirt in a back alley… What if he got kidnapped? What if… ~

The door interrupted his thoughts, his head shot up to get a look at his husband.

He got up from his place on the couch and pulled Phil into a tight embrace.

"Where have you been?" Clint tried to banish the panic from his voice.

"Johnson needed help, he managed to blow a simple operation and I had to clean up his mess," Phil inhaled the soothing scent of his young husband.

"Next time just leave a note," Clint chided. "I was worried."

"I was in a hurry," he simply stated, Clint sighed. "I know but you have to tell me something like that."

"I know." Phil ended the hug and got rid of his shoes and jacket.

"Do you want something to eat?" Clint offered, he could be a real good husband when he wanted to be.

"I only want to go to bed," he gave Clint a brief kiss and went to the bedroom. He never noticed the set table, the candles and his favorite music.

Clint cleared the table and turned off the radio before he joined Phil. The older man was already asleep. He smiled sadly at his lover before he took of his clothes and slipped into bed.

Clint realized that Phil faced the wrong side of the room, normally he was spooning behind Clint but this time he faced the bathroom door instead, laying with the back to him.

Clint snuggled closer to Phil and put an arm around his waist, for the first time in years he was the one spooning behind Phil. He didn't like it. He didn't feel as safe as he should in their bed.

Phil always had the talent to give him a feeling of safety. May it be, at home or a top secret mission. Phil was always near and his presence calmed most of his fears. He still hadn't figured out why Phil loved him but he believed him when he said 'I love you'.

He watched Phil for a while before he closed his eyes to get a little sleep.

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Clint was up before the sun rose; he took Phil's weapon out of the holster and replaced it with the new one. He placed a gentle kiss on Phil's forehead before he sneaked out of the bedroom.

He prepared breakfast and left a little note next to the plate before he left.

Clint went straight to the firing range.

Phil rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock next to the bed 10 a.m., he jumped out of bed to find his clothes until he remembered that it was Saturday.

He groaned and grabbed his sweatpants. "Clint?" he called, "Love, where are you?" he strolled into the kitchen, seeing the food and the note 'I'm back at about 2 p.m., Love Clint'.

The food was cold but the timer for the coffeemaker was set for 10 a. it was fresh and hot, Phil smiled lovingly. "You know me too well," he spoke to himself.

He opened the refrigerator and frowned, there were various Tupperware's with leftovers. It looked delicious. He racked his brain for an answer to why Clint went through all the effort to cook.

Phil wanted to smash his head against the cupboard as the answer hit him full force. Yesterday was their third wedding anniversary. He ignored his breakfast and shuffled through the apartment, thinking about a way to apology.

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Clint fired his last arrow as the door to the range opened. "You needed more time than I thought," he said before he collected his arrows.

"I'm sorry," Phil sounded honest and Clint knew he was.

"You were tired," he smiled up at Phil, "but don't you ever turn your back on me again," his smile wavered for a moment. Phil thought of what his lover could mean as he remembered the position he woke up that morning.

"I'd never turn my back on you deliberately," the older agent vowed.

"Good." Clint's smiled brightened, "I don't feel safe without your arms around me."

"Let's get out of here," Phil ordered with a little smirk, he knew his embrace kept nightmares away.

"Yes sir." Clint took his bow and followed his lover.

"Where are we going?" Clint noticed that they were heading in the wrong direction.

"Surprise," Phil stared at the street. Clint was indeed surprised because he hadn't planned on that. He thought they would go home, fall into bed together and forget that it ever happened.

But not this time, he felt like the time they were newlyweds.

They drove for an hour until they reached the woods. Phil led him down a narrow way until they reached a clearing.

"It's beautiful," Clint looked around. Trees, flowers, the blue sky all that gave the clearing a calming charm.

Phil opened his backpack. "Not as beautiful as you," he blushed slightly.

Clint turned around to look at him. "Love you too," he smirked. He loved it when Phil blushed.

Phil spread a blanket and opened the Tupperware, "You're a great cook," Phil praised.

"I almost ruined the sauce but yeah I'm damn awesome," he settled down next to Phil.

"I wouldn't say your awesome agent more something like gifted," Phil said deadly serious.

"Gifted huh?" Clint jumped his lover, he kissed him with passion.

"Yeah very talented," Phil panted after their mouths part. Clint smirked and opened Phil's shirt, sucking his way down to his lover's belt. With few smooth motions he got rid of the belt and pants including his underwear.

"If you keep up that pace I'm not going to last long," Phil moaned.

"You don't have to," Clint meant what he said. "It's about you. You work too much you need time to relax."

"Relax, sounds good," Phil grinned.

Clint took him into his mouth and sucked him off. He had a very talented tongue and he knew how Phil liked it most.

Phil tried to catch his breath. "I… was wrong," he admitted.

"Oh yeah? About what?" he knew the answer to his question.

"You're awesome," he pulled his younger lover up to kiss him.

"Let's eat. I'm sure you missed breakfast," Clint pushed a piece of bread into his lover's mouth.

"You're creepy," Phil said lovingly.

"I learned from the best." Clint caressed Phil's cheek, "and I won't tell anyone what a big softy you are at home."

"You better don't because I could tell them what a great housewife you are," he retorted.

Clint laughed, "Ah, shut up."

After they finished most of the food they laid down for a little nap. They weren't able to doze off because they weren't at home and it could be dangerous to let their guard down in the middle of nowhere. But they rested their eyes while they cuddled. Not as if they would ever admit to it.

Phil's hand traced up and down Clint's side. "What's that?" he sat up like a flash, "Did you get hurt during our last mission?"

Clint needed a moment to digest what Phil was saying, "No, I reported all injuries to you."

"So what's that?" he pointed at Clint's chest, Clint realized that Phil must have touched the foil that protected his still healing tattoo from harm.

"I…," Clint felt suddenly rather insecure.

"I-What?" he glared, but Clint could see worry in his eyes.

He opened his shirt and revealed the tattoo. He closed his eyes, too scared to see anger in his lover's eyes.

Phil let out a gasp. "It's beautiful," he studied the tattoo. Clint opened his eyes, sighing in relieve.

"Why, a black panther?" Phil asked curious.

"I think it suits you," Clint looked at his tattoo. "You're strong, proud, elegant, and you look damn hot in black."

"I love it," Phil took Clint's hand. "One more question. Why, a new tattoo?"

"I can't wear my wedding band," he said simply and Phil understood the whole meaning of the tattoo.

"One day you can," Phil promised but Clint new better. "No I can't but it's okay. As long as I have you everything is fine."

Phil pulled Clint against his chest, they watched the sunset in silence.