Okay, so this for some reason would not leave me alone last night as I attempted to sleep. It's likely rather out of character for a couple of people, but my muse wouldn't leave me alone until I did something with it. It's set about 2 weeks after the events of the Avengers. (I figured that Tony is rich enough, his tower would be livable if not all repaired in that amount of time.)

Spoilers for the movie included, beware. I don't own, blah, blah, etc, etc, etc.

Thanks for reading, I'd love to know what you think, and enjoy. :)

"How did you get in here?"

Tony Stark looked up in shock as his penthouse was invaded by Natasha Romanoff. That was supposed to be a private elevator. Plus, how in the hell had she gotten past the security? It was only two weeks after the building had been very rudely smashed up by Loki and his nefarious daddy issues, but security had been the first thing Tony had reinstituted. He, Pepper, the building contractor, and Bruce were the only ones who were supposed to be able to get in.

"Your cameras are in horrible places. Don't blame Jarvis," was Natasha's simple answer.

Rolling his eyes, Tony wondered how he'd forgotten one simple fact: she was the Black Widow. Security was never tight enough to keep her out…even on his date night.

From beside him, Pepper was sending her former assistant a strange look that Tony didn't quite understand. It had girl crap written all over it, especially once Natasha flopped herself down in one of their chairs with a noted lack of her usual stealth. Watching her friend for a moment longer, Pepper finally smiled widely, "Tony, why don't you go play in the lab with Bruce?"

Her sweet tone was not fooling him. "No, no, I will not be kicked out of my own house!"

"Your house is in Malibu and yes you will," Pepper replied winningly, pushing him toward the elevator door.

He struggled, "But, I don't want to go to the lab. Jolly Green Giant didn't promise me a date tonight. You did."

"Tony, go away."

"Pleeeeease!" He fixed her with his best sad Stark smile.

Fighting a smirk at it, she pecked him on the lips, "Go away."

Standing in the elevator doorway, he declared, "This is only 12% yours. How can you say you really love me?"

Grinning outright then, she protested as she pushed the down button, "It's 50% mine, though right now I'm giving you all of it but this floor, and I can say I love you because I do. Now be a good boy and go!"

Pouting as the door slid silently shut, Tony found himself kicked out of his own home. Shrugging, he decided it wasn't that new. Natasha had kinda kicked him out of his company before and confined him to his house. She had a bad habit of doing that. Spies. He then turned his thoughts to other things. Maybe the Captain was around so he and Bruce could dazzle him with the internet again…

Pepper turned back from the elevator and took in the sight before her. Natasha Romanoff was sprawled out dejectedly in one of their largest armchairs wearing sweatpants, a tank top, no shoes, and her hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. Pepper had doubt she was still very, very armed, but the choice of clothing hinted at her mood.

Despite the fact the other woman had been undercover at the time of their meeting, Pepper considered Natasha her friend. It had taken a bit, but she'd gotten over the fact that she hadn't told her about Tony dying and being a spy and whatnot. Pepper was getting far too used to all that to truly mind anymore, anyway. Once Bruce had moved into the basement where he and Tony frolicked—yes, she had pondered and that was the best verb—about the lab doing their smart people things, she'd accepted that her life was going to be gloriously not normal.

However, Natasha looking that riled without the threat of violence was more abnormal than Pepper was comfortable with. It bespoke trouble, probably with an origin in testosterone.

Sitting down across from her friend, Pepper pulled her legs underneath her and asked, "You all right, Tasha?"

"Men are stupid," came the frustrated reply. Natasha usually wasn't so unguarded with her feelings. An outburst like that for Natasha was like the average woman breaking down into tears in the middle of the street.

Smiling, Pepper nodded, "Yes they are. Come on." Getting up, she held out a hand for the other woman who took it. Leading the spy toward the kitchen, Pepper began, "One cannot complain about the stupidity of men properly without three things: slippers, ice cream, and chocolate."

Natasha broke a small smile at that and waited as the blonde fished out a pair of fluffy slippers from beneath the island—she didn't ask what they were doing there—and two cartons of ice cream from the freezer. Smirking as she handed her friend a spoon, Pepper continued, "I usually get chocolate ice cream and combine the last two. So," she continued as they sat back down, "I know you and talking aren't usually good together, but spill. You'll feel better."

For a long moment, the redhead sat there, sucking on her ice cream and remaining silent. Then, after her first chunk of brownie, it all spilled out in a torrent that, frankly, scared her. It was a very good thing Pepper was trustworthy, because being so open was not a safe thing in her line of work.

"Men are…are stupid and they're idiots and they're not worth your time and I hate them!"

Pepper chose to keep quiet aside from one question that she already knew the answer to, "Which one?"

"Barton." Natasha breathed it out so quietly, Pepper almost didn't catch it.

"He's shutting me out, avoiding me. It's…it's killing me." Sighing, the redhead went on, "We shut people out. It's what we do. If we didn't shut people out, we probably wouldn't still be alive. But, we don't shut each other out, not since Budapest. I-I can't not have him be around when he's around. It's not like I'm sitting there pathetically missing him when we're on different ops. I'm fine most of the time. But he hasn't spoken to me since we sent Loki back. I can't have him be just meters away from me and have him ignore me. He always talks to me. Somehow, we managed to be all each other has. If he can't come to me, then how am I supposed to… Dammit, the guy was holding my hand under the shawarma table! He's messing with my mind…He's so stupid!"

A very large spoonful of ice cream followed her last word.

Despite any classified designation, Pepper knew the whole story of the Avengers' first outing. Tony had never been good with the word 'classified.' So, she knew all about Loki taking over Clint's head, his forced betrayal, and how Natasha had had to literally knock him back into reality. Tony hadn't outright mentioned it, but his tone had indicated he had caught a waft of something between the" ninja woman" and the "Legolas without pointy ears". Pepper thought she knew what was happening here, and yeah, it involved a man being stupid.

Natasha was her friend, therefore, she was going to try and help fix it. Clint needed to deal with his problems.

"Jarvis," she called to the room.

The computer she'd come to love as something of an assistant babysitter for Tony answered with his usual promptness, "Yes, Miss Potts? Good evening, Miss Romanoff."

Smiling, Pepper asked lightly, ignoring Natasha's hint of surprise that she let through, "Please get me Director Fury on the phone. I have a request to make of him."

Natasha had to hand it to her; Pepper was quite possibly the most dangerous woman she'd ever met. Every person Virginia Potts had ever said hello to somehow owed her a favor it seemed…

"Barton, I need you on the bridge."

Clint jumped ever so slightly as the director's voice echoed through his quarters aboard the newly repaired helicarrier. It was nearly eight at night, so he hadn't been sleeping—not that he slept anyway. No, instead he'd been lying in bed on top of the covers, being angry and disappointed at himself in turn.

Not two hours before, he'd passed Tasha in the hallway. He'd been trying and succeeding with considerable consistency to keep out of her way. Looking at her made him feel so immensely guilty he couldn't stand it. Usually looking at her made him smirk to himself. It was one of the few things in the world that always made him happy: knowing that she was his friend, that she had his back, that he had her to go to.

Now, whenever he looked at her, he wanted to throw up because he knew that he'd tried to kill her. Trying to kill her once was the most his very buried heart could take and that was before he'd become so damn close to her that he could tell her mood from the way she walked. She knew him just as well, which explained the disappointment that cropped up right after the guilt. She knew what he was doing, he had no doubt.

Groaning against still-healing bruises and sore muscles, he got up to head towards the bridge, hoping with half a mind that he was being sent on an op, though not bothering to change out of his sweatpants.

Director Fury was standing with all his usual intimidating poise when he reached the command center. Turning his one eye on the archer, Fury ordered with an unusual lack of urgency, "Miss Potts just called me. Apparently Stark wants you for something if you've got the time." When the other man didn't move or speak, Fury continued, "Unless you've got personal plans, you've got the time."

"Yes, sir."

"There's a plane ready for you." Without another word, the man turned to some other pressing matter and Clint was left to his own devices.

Sighing, wondering what in the hell Tony could want, he made his way toward the flight deck. He had landed atop Stark Tower within twenty minutes.

He had no idea what he was in for…

Pepper was just putting her carton of ice cream away when a thunk on the roof above let her know that Clint had arrived. Natasha was still poking at hers with frustration, digging out the brownie pieces. Putting on a smile and a hoodie, Pepper was in front of the door to the roof just as Barton was pushing it open.

She saw his hand twitch to go for a weapon of some kind as he presence surprised him, but she'd become used to it—she lived in the same building as Bruce Banner for heaven's sake. Smile not wavering, she gently but firmly took him by the upper arm, "Clint, good to see you. How have you been?"

"Fine. What's Tony want?"

By then, he had noticed Natasha lounging angrily upon a chair and had frozen. Pepper's hold dragged him forward until they were within a few feet of each other. "Tony doesn't want anything. I lied."

Natasha stood, staring her best friend down as he looked anywhere but at her. Pepper held her arm to ensure she didn't jump at the man.

Continuing without letting the tension in the room and the fact she was holding two very dangerous people in her grasp get to her, Pepper continued, "So, I'm not big on butting into other people's business, but Tasha is my friend and it's my womanly duty to do this. This is how I see it," she rounded on Barton, "Clint, you're being stupid. Just because you tried to kill her while you were under the mind control spell of some sociopathic trickery god from another realm does not mean you meant to or that you need to beat yourself up about it or about the fact that you're in love with her."

She laughed as he physically jumped and stared at her with wide, scared eyes, "Don't look at me like that. I've been handling Tony Stark's emotional wellbeing for over a decade. I've pretty much seen it all. So, I'm going to go keep Tony and Bruce from blowing anything up and you two are going to settle your stuff. That's an order." Wrapping her coat more tightly around her as she approached the elevator, she called, "Jarvis, make sure he doesn't run away, please."

And so, the two assassins were left alone.

There was a long silence in which Clint tried to discern whether he could plausibly throw himself out the window without Jarvis or Natasha foiling his plot. As soon as she turned to put herself between him and the large wall of windows, he gave up. Before he could say a word, however, she poked him in the chest, clearly restraining herself, "You're an idiot!"

"I know that."

Ignoring his words, she continued her rant, "And you're stupid! You've been avoiding me and I've noticed and it's stupid."

"I know." He sighed, "I know and I'm sorry."

Letting out a breath that was coming disturbingly close to tears, she asked, "Then why did you?"

He smirked, "Because we're both shit with feelings. It's why we're so close. I couldn't deal with the fact I tried to kill you and that I needed you at the same time. I've barely been able to deal with I need you let alone both."

Smirking a bit herself, she shoved him again, "I'm still mad at you, but you'd better deal with it." Without another word, she stepped forward and hugged him, allowing herself the simple display of affection that was usually confined to when one of them had had a near-death experience.

Sighing again, he returned the gesture, honestly ready to deal with her attacking him if that's what it took to make her feel better.

"You realize that I had to deal with you being the enemy at the same time I was dealing with I need you, too, right. I know guys have the emotional capacity of a freaking spoon but I couldn't deal with it either, not without you. You're not the only one who needs somebody…"

Pressing an instinctive kiss to the top of her head, Clint offered, "Tasha, I promise that the next time I get taken over by a villain and try to kill you, I won't avoid you and will try my hardest to deal with my feelings so you don't have to involve Pepper so I don't get embarrassed when she sums up my heart in two sentences and lets you know very unromantically that I love you. How's that?"

Happy his dry sense of humor was back, she smirked up at him, "You would've never gotten around to telling me romantically anyway. We're shit with feelings, remember."

"Yeah, we should probably leave romantic to Stark." Without letting himself think about it too much, he then dipped his head down and pressed his lips against hers for the first time in his life. As she kissed back, somewhere deep inside he started to feel very, very grateful to Pepper. She'd said the words he probably never would've had the courage to.

"Miss Romanoff, Mr. Stark is returning just so you know. He is complaining that he wants his house back."

Jarvis' disembodied voice surprised Natasha and Clint away from one another a rather glorious amount of time later. Grabbing her now soupy ice cream and Clint's hand, she settled herself back into her previous chair, with the modification that she was now upon his lap, his arm subtly wrapped around her and resting on her hip.

Sure enough, within moments Tony had burst out of the elevator, bickering with Pepper the whole way. Bruce trailed behind, smiling at their antics. Their constant fighting was oddly soothing to the big green guy, so he loved being around the couple.

"No, Pepper, I want my house back."

"No, Tony," she mimicked, "you want your smoothie back."

"Be that as it may, this is still my house!"

"Fifty percent of it is your house, you big baby. Besides, I drank the rest of your smoothie."

Tony looked at her with clear shock, as if she had just done something very, very terrible. "You didn't, Miss Potts!"

"Oh, I did, Mr. Stark. Now calm down, you have company. Hello again, Clint."

The archer nodded to her with a small smile, "Thanks, Pepper."

Tony glanced at him and Natasha, not commenting on the seating arrangement, "Oh, hey Leggie. How're the tights fitting?"

As Clint rolled his eyes and Tony told Jarvis to put something good on the television, Pepper smiled. Oh yes, she was very okay with her not normal life, especially when the people she shared it with were happy.