Author's Notes

The Art business is still struggling in the aftermath of the Battle of New York, so when Tony Stark attaches a harmless condition to a substantial purchase, Sara Wolfe sees no reason to refuse. Dinner at Stark Tower turns out to be more than she expected when she discovers her new boyfriend is there as well; a boyfriend her sister really doesn't approve of.

The storyline commences 3 months after the Battle of New York and thereafter follows its own arc

Marvel Characters are bases on the Marvel Cinematic Universe and are copyright to Marvel and Disney. Their use here is for purely non-commercial entertainment purposes

Some explicit eroticism towards the end

Review and comments welcome

"Isn't that Tony Stark?" Becky whispered to Sara, nodding in the direction of the dark-haired man who'd just entered the door of Galleria Rossi. The other woman looked up from opening the parcel of new catalogues that had just arrived. It could be, she thought. He had the distinctive goatee and his clothes were well cut and expensive but, since the Battle of New York, 'Iron Man Chic' had become something of the thing amongst bachelors of a certain age.

"I'd say yes" she whispered back "but only because of the way the Gorgon's descending on him"

Ms Gorgetti, one of the senior sales staff, hovered round the man; her eyes glowing with the thought of commission to be earned. The gallery was less than a block from ground zero and had taken heavy damage during the battle. Even once the initial clear up was completed, extensive refurbishment had been required and they only re-opened last month. Sales were proving sluggish and Signor Rossi was dropping ominous hints about 'downsizing'.

The man politely but emphatically waved her away and continued browsing. Ms Gorgetti redirected her attention to the two women at the desk, determined to put her disappointment to good use.

"Ms Wolfe, do you think you can manage to put the new catalogues out without assistance?"

"I'll get onto it right away, Ms Gorgetti" Sara replied with a pleasant smile, the Gorgon was clearly in one of her moods today. The older woman narrowed her eyes slightly and turned to the other

"Ms Logan, if you're not too busy updating your status I suggest you remember what you're paid for and see to the orders folder?"

Definitely in one of her moods…

"Excuse me, Ms… Wolfe?" The man who might be Tony Stark peered at her name badge as she finished arranging the catalogues "Could you possibly tell me a little about this piece?"

He indicated an arrangement of strung-together coat hangers, covered in sequins, swinging lazily in the faint breeze from the air-conditioning

"Of course, Mr Stark" she said, taking the chance and noting the glint of satisfaction in his eyes "It's Julian Holt's latest work, Galaxy 17, the artist is trying to capture the fragile, ephemeral nature of the new universe we find ourselves in and the superficial glamour we attach to it…"

She carried on in the same vein for a couple of minutes while Stark attempted to look gravely attentive to the stream of hip platitudes, feeling the corners of his mouth twitching. The woman was in her early 20s, pretty and lively, in white silk blouse and tan slacks with her blondish red hair in a fashionably retro 40s style. That decade had been a glamourous one for women, Tony thought. He could imagine her as the ingénue in some gritty film noir. Eventually he murmured, too low for anyone other than her to hear

"You think it's a heap of crap as well, don't you?"

Sara kept her face perfectly straight and replied in a similar quiet voice

"Give it a month and you'll have a pile of wire hangers and a carpet full of sequins. Would you like to see something less 'fragile'?"

She directed the still-smiling Stark's attention to several of the more durable, classic, pieces the gallery had on display. The Gorgon hovered nervously in the background. A good sale would make a difference to both women. The gallery rule was that commission over a certain amount had to be split with the senior salesperson on duty, and the publicity earned by a good sale to Tony Stark was guaranteed to bring in a fresh wave of wealthy patrons.

"Excellent!" Stark was positively beaming "I'll take them"

"Which ones, Mr Stark?" asked Sara

"Oh, all the pieces you showed me, including the Holt; you never know when coat hangers will come in handy" he pulled a matt black credit card out of his wallet "One condition…"

"Condition, Mr Stark?" She could feel Gorgetti stiffening up behind her

"Yes, I'm having a little dinner party on Saturday; just some close friends, and I would like you to join us so you can explain the pieces to them as charmingly as you have to me. They're artistic illiterates I'm afraid."

His smile was still pleasant, but quite firm, this was clearly a non-negotiable. She glanced at the Gorgon whose expression seemed to say 'you like to eat and pay rent, don't you?'

"Certainly, Mr Stark" she replied, taking his credit card "It'd be my pleasure."

###

"Dinner with Tony Stark, what will Clint think?"

Sara sighed as she sorted through her dresses, trying to decide what was 'smart-casual' enough for dinner at Stark Tower. Beth wasn't even attempting to hide the sarcasm in her voice

"It's a dinner party, not a candlelight supper, and his girlfriend's going to be there" she reminded her older sister "besides, Clint's away on assignment and won't be back till tomorrow."

"Of course, 'assignment'" was Beth's laconic response.

Beth still had a huge question-mark over the man her little sister had been dating for the past month, ever since that soppy dog of his had gone running into the gallery during the relaunch party and cut his paw on a broken wineglass. He seemed pleasant enough, and good looking in a quirky way, but very reticent about his past and what it was he did for a living. Other than vague generalities and hints of military connections he'd avoided those subjects carefully. And then there was the age difference. It didn't matter how nice the guy was, a 41-year-old dating a 24-year-old just seemed creepy. She saw her sister's expression.

"I'm sorry, Sara, I'm not trying to be a bitch…" Beth smiled apologetically "He probably is a really genuine guy but I'm worried he might turn out to be trouble. You've admitted he doesn't talk about himself much…"

"Which is a change from most men" Sara said, settling on the dark green sweater dress with a rose jacket. "I know you mean well, I just wish you'd give him a bit of a break."

Beth sat down on the bed and took Sara's hand

"I'm your big sister, it's my job to worry about you" she saw the book and dvd sitting on the nightstand "Why're you learning sign language?"

"Clint's deaf, he just has really good hearing aids. I'm learning it as a surprise for him" It was Sara's turn to smile "See? He does tell me things…"

###

"Ms Wolfe! So glad you could make it!" Mr Stark took Sara's hand as she came out of the elevator into a glassed-off lobby and led her towards a wide, open-plan area from which the sound of conversation could be heard

"I couldn't really refuse the invitation; could I Mr Stark?" she answered, laughing

"Please, call me Tony" he insisted "and permit me to call you Sara. We're all very informal here."

Two men and two women were seated on low couches in front of a large stone fireplace

"Everyone!" Tony called as he escorted her down the steps towards them "This is Ms Sara Wolfe, our art expert. Call her Sara and try not to scare her too much."

The older of the two women stood up with a welcoming smile

"I'm Pepper, it's a real pleasure to meet you Sara"

Pepper made the introductions while Tony fixed them drinks. Steve Rogers was open, friendly and courteous, Bruce Banner a little more shy and wary of prolonged eye contact; Natasha Romanoff pleasant but slightly distant. It felt as if the woman was assessing her but hadn't yet reached a conclusion. As Tony brought the drinks over she felt she had to get the elephant in the room out the way. As soon as Sara stepped through into the room she was certain who these people were and she could tell from their gaze they knew that.

"This feels a bit embarrassing… but… I just want to say thank you." She looked down at her hands, aware of their scrutiny and the blush on her cheeks "I work not too far from here, none of us would have made it weren't for you."

Steve raised his glass in a grateful salute

"That's very kind of you, Sara. I'm glad you got out safe."

"Well" said Tony cheerfully, passing out the last of the drinks "That's the inevitable done. How about food?"

There was a thunder of paws on hardwood and a shaggy brown Labrador galloped out of the lobby and over to Sara, nosing at her hands in search of a treat.

"Lucky?" she gasped in astonishment. Lucky yipped in excitement, he hadn't expected to see Master's new friend here.

A familiar, aggrieved sounding, voice could be heard coming up the stairs and into the lobby

"Stark! Why the hell are all my hangers covered in sequi… Sara?"

Clint was at the top of the steps, wearing grubby black combat gear, staring at her open-eyed and open-mouthed. The others were all looking directly at Stark

"Oh, you two know each other?" Tony asked with feigned innocence. Steve sighed and shook his head

"Tony…" growled Clint in clear annoyance as he came down the steps and headed over. Tony shrugged

"Okay, I found out that Clint's been dating and thought it was past time we were all introduced" He looked apologetically at Sara "But I do really like the art you picked for me."

Clint came up to Sara, nervousness and embarrassment taking over, looking down at his boots while Lucky jumped and 'wuffed' around them.

"Well!" said Pepper, with a brittle smile, nodding the others pointedly towards the terrace "Now that Tony seems made everything magnificently awkward for everyone yet again, I think we should give Clint and Sara a few moments to talk."

Natasha was the last to leave, as if reluctant for them to be alone together. Clint took a deep breath, still staring at his boots.

"Sara… I…" he began, struggling for words.

"You're with the Avengers" she finished for him "Not Thor I'm guessing?"

"'Fraid not, no!" that made him laugh a little "I'm just the guy with the bow and arrow."

"That explains these" she took his hand, running her thumb over the calluses "and I saw what you did, you're more than 'just' anything."

"I couldn't… I…" The words were still hard to say, like his tongue was tripping over his teeth. Sara kept holding his hand, looking at him with gentle encouragement. Finally, he managed to blurt it out

"I wanted you to know me, I mean the real me; not the guy in the suit." He looked at her and she could feel his anxiety and uncertainty "I need you to, because… 'cause sometimes it feels like I don't, and when I'm round you I feel kinda complete."

There is was again, that sense of something lost or missing inside him; the sadness he couldn't understand. She took his face in her hands and kissed him

"I think I am getting to know the real you" she said softly "and I think I like him, a lot."

He smiled for the first time, the tension disappearing from his face, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You look really beautiful tonight, Sara." He murmured "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Clint." She rested her head on his shoulder, he smelled of damp earth and sweat, strong but oddly not unpleasant.

"Awww baby, I must stink" he said, then leaned his head against hers "All I wanna do is grab a shower and go to bed. Sound like a plan?"

It sounded like a very good plan

"What about them?" she asked, glancing towards the group on the terrace

"Don't worry" he grinned "They'll just be pissed off at Stark for a while and we can do a real dinner some other night… if you want."

They went and said goodnight to the others. Tony, having had a good talking to from Pepper and Steve, was apologetic and embarrassed; assuring her yet again that he genuinely liked the pieces he'd bought. The others were pleasant and understanding, urging her to come back again if she wanted, and together she and Clint headed down the stairs; Lucky trotting beside them.

"Tony lets me use one of the guest apartments" he explained "He's an asshole, but a generous one."

"I don't think he expected his little game to go down so badly" she laughed "I felt a bit sorry for him"

Clint kissed her on the cheek

"He's a good guy, really, just doesn't always think his jokes through all the way sometimes."

As soon as the apartment door closed behind them she pulled him to her and kissed him again, hard, her hands slipping inside his jacket to caress the firm, taut muscle of his chest. He nuzzled against her neck, letting his own hands travel over the curves of her slender back.

"Lemme grab a shower…" he whispered. She shook her head

"Now" Sara insisted, pulling his jacket back from his shoulders "Stinking and fresh from the fight."

Clint looked at her in surprise, a slow smile spreading across his lips. This was one of his ultimate fantasies about to come true. Lucky made a huffing noise, realising Master and his friend would be ignoring him, and curled up on his cushion.

"Awww, Sara…." Clint moaned, voice hoarse with lust, and began pulling at her dress. She raised her arms so he could get it all the way off then stepped back so he could see her properly; dressed only in bra, panties, stockings and heels. Her hair fell in heavy, golden-red, curls over her shoulders and breasts. He stared at her, breathing heavily, unable to remember the last time he had wanted someone so much. He tugged his jacket all the way off, then grabbed her into his arms, kissing hungrily down to her breasts while grabbing her smooth, perfect ass in both hands; pressing her close so she could feel his own intense excitement.

Sara hooked her leg around his and ground her hips against him

"Hawkeye…" she gasped

Hearing his codename on her lips drove him crazy. Clint picked her up and half laid, half threw her onto the bed, dropping to his knees and tearing at the lace panties with both hands. They looked expensive but he didn't give a fuck right now and the delicate fabric ripped easily in his strong grip.

He began to kiss and lick along the soft skin of her inner thighs, letting his hands wander up her belly to slip under her bra. Clint could feel Sara writhe as his callused thumbs gently teased at her nipples. She moaned 'Hawkeye' again as his tongue found its target, probing firmly inside her as he skilfully explored her slit. He loved how she tasted, warm and sweet like honey, and the eager, urgent way her body responded.

Her fingers tangled in his untidy, brownish-blond hair as his lips closed about her clit and he flicked at it with the tip of his tongue. Her legs wrapped around his chest and she gave a soft, high, squeal like a seagull in flight. It had been days since he came, the pressure of his erection against his zipper almost painful. He wanted her as close as possible before the big moment.

"Hawk… please… Now…" Sara gasped, her fingers twisting in his hair. Clint freed one hand from under her bra and began tugging at his pants, swearing under his breath as his own fingers turned to thumbs fumbling at belt and zipper. Eventually he succeeded and his hard, thick, cock sprang free. He raised himself up and pulled Sara closer to him.

"You ready, baby?" he whispered, gazing into her eyes "I ain't gonna last long like this…"

Her only response was a breathless nod and he pushed forward

"Awwwww, fuck…." Clint groaned as Sara's tight, velvety warmth closed around him. She said she'd only ever had one man before him and he had no problem believing that. He held himself still for a moment, his forehead resting on hers, holding her gaze with an intense passion and desire, then began to move his hips; slowly at first but quickly building in speed and intensity as she clung to him, biting and clawing at his neck and shoulders.

Sara could tell from Clint's breathing and the urgency of his movements that he was close and she could feel her own orgasm building as if feeding from his mounting pressure. He'd lifted her almost completely off the bed, fucking her with hard, desperate thrusts; kissing her roughly, fiercely, as her body tightened around his. She could feel him swelling inside her as the moment of release came and threw back her head, screaming, moments before his own hoarse, guttural cry and the warm pulsing within.

They collapsed onto the bed, tangled in each other's arms and legs and lay there breathless for a while. Clint moved a few strands of hair away from Sara's face and kissed her softly

"Wow!" he gasped "How was that for an opening number?"

She laughed and kissed him back

"Well, if the main show doesn't involve at least one song-and-dance routine and a costume change I'm going to be very disappointed."

Clint grinned, swinging his feet of the bed he started unlacing his boots. He'd scoured mud and god knows what else all over the bedspread but for now that didn't matter.

"I dunno about the dance, but the song's a possibility" he nodded towards his kitbag in the far corner of the room "As for the costume change? After we shower I can always suit up and give you the full Hawkeye Experience."

###

Clint woke up with a start, heart racing. The nightmare was already slipping away, all he could remember was blood, and someone screaming. He sat up carefully. Sara still fast asleep beside him. Even without his hearing aids he could tell her breathing was shallow and gentle from the way her breast moved. He'd hated to have disturbed her just for a stupid dream. The clock by the bed said 3:45 am, he pulled on his boxers and crept to the bathroom, waiting till the door was closed before turning on the light. Maybe he was still only half awake, but he almost expected to see his face and hands spattered with blood in the mirror. There was nothing but his own reflection, staring drowsily back at him. Yeah, just another nightmare.