Laura had sent him to the do the rounds of asking the age old question "how many pancakes does it take to fill an Avenger?" and as this group seemed to fall into the "eats like a horse and less like a rabbit" category, he went to do the only woman he answered to's bidding. Currently he found himself at the threshold of Bruce Banner's door, which brought to mind something else he had been meaning to discuss with the good doctor.

Time to get to work…

Clint casually leaned on the door frame, watching Bruce scuttle about the room, eyes focused on the nervous ticks of his prey. Banner had all of two motions at the moment, one hand went through the hair while the other palm, smoothed out the unseen creases of his pants. Clint was not opposed to waiting for an opening, so when Banner ran his hand through his hair for a forth time, the hawk finally came in for the landing.

"So I hear you and Nat are really gettin' the hang of this whole lullaby idea." Clint watched Banner start and swiftly turn around, curls bouncing on his head like a slinky. He didn't mean to startle the guy…well maybe he did, just a little, nothing like a game of poke the bear to get ones blood flowing again.

"y-yeah," Banner swallowed, "It seems to be working well, lately"

Clint nodded his head and let the awkward silence linger. He knew he really shouldn't make this guy uncomfortable but he couldn't seem to help it, Laura would certainly kick him for this later, and besides he also knew Bruce wouldn't let it go too far…

"So, is there something I can help you with, Clint?"

Gotcha. Clint pretended to think on this, mulling it over and letting his eyes look up toward the ceiling, "Nope," eyes once again traveling to his target, "don't think there is."

"Oh, okay…" a slight cough, "this is a really nice…"

"So I have this friend," Clint began, cutting Bruce off mid complement, "and she's pretty much my best friend, next to my wife that is," winking at Bruce and letting out a chuckle at the open mouth, knitted eyebrow stare Banner's face had morphed into, "so you can see how I might be a bit concerned to learn that she's been having a thing for someone and not even tell me."

"Um, I…"

"Now don't worry, I'm not mad, per se, but I thought I'd have a little chat with the guy, seeing as she really doesn't have to many people in her life to look out for her…you know what I mean?"

"Clint, I think…"

"So whatta ya say Banner, ready to spill the proverbial beans all over my 50 cent rug?"

"Well, I…," Banner looked down, "50 cents? really?"

"Barn sale."

Bruce looked up still perplexed, as if he had just met Clint for the first time.

"Look Bruce, its Iowa. I don't go to ho-downs, but I don't shop at Pottery Barn, either."

"Oh…well thats not, awful," an arm came up reaching for his hairline, and Clint thought that for all the IQ's this guy had, he sure could get sidetracked on things of no real importance. Clint needed to focus back on the target at hand.

"So, Natasha."

Bruce's head shot up and his hand fell away.

"You going to tell me what's going on? so I can be the parent here and tell you not to harm her and all that jazz or…" Clint purposely left it hanging, because believe it or not, he didn't think he could make a threat that would sway Bruce…I mean he did have a green alter ego the size of Russia.

"Natasha, she's…" was started on a whisper that had Clint leaning in to catch the full syllables, "she's someone that I would like to get to know more, but don't think I…should," he answered lamely.

Clint huffed out a sigh, "If your going to use the age old 'other guy' excuse, you really need to know that none, especially her, sees that as a threat, only you do."

bear, stick, poke…here it goes…

"I think she asked me to run with it, but I really don't know what that means."

Clint finally pushed off from his lean to on the door frame and took a step inside the room. "It means that you should commit to getting to know one another and not hold back. It means that you shouldn't let fear or circumstances get in the way if you truly both want to pursue something besides friends. It means a lot of things, but you need to take a step and find out before it all comes down like a tower of Legos.

Bruce gave a little twitch of his lips, which granted, Clint had to agreed, wasn't one of his greater analogies. Metaphors?

"Hey man, I'm married with kids, but I'm also not here to tell you how its going to go, nor am I going to sweep my arms out and say 'you can have all this one day, if you just open up your heart' and all that crap. Its different for everyone, and only you two need to feel it out and see how to proceed, one foot at a time."

Bruce pressed his lips together and gave a little nod.

Taking that as his cue and with one hand on the doorframe, Clint turned to go down the hall but stopped. Screw it, and using his hand still on the frame he swung back in the room, startling the good doctor a second time.

"You should run with it. I know you got your reasons and all but Natasha needs someone not like the rest of us, not born and bred into a life of violence, you're not as bad as you think you are, you got heart," Clint inwardly shuttered with the wisps of memory that statement produced, lifting his eyes he stared right into the centre of Banner's pupils, "I found an oasis, and I sure ain't lettin' it go. She needs you, and I'm pretty sure you look like you need her."

This time the silence was anything but awkward, it was filled with longing and what ifs and a solid line of thinking that was as scary as it was exciting.

But there was a time to hold it and a time to release.

"Well," slapping the door frame, "glad we got all this out in the open," and with that Clint turned to leave again, till a soft Clint, had him halting his steps once more.

Swinging his head round, he looked at the rooms occupant again. Bruce was standing still, not moving, hands at rest at his sides. Clint turned curious eyes at Banners small smile.

"Thanks...I think," and finally Bruce let himself fully smile.

"Yup," no reason to get in touch with the feelings again, once every six months ought to do it…but as Banner again brought his nervous hands to run through his hair Clint just needed to say one more thing.

"Oh, and Bruce," Bruce looked up, "how many pancakes you want?" Never let it be said that hawks don't complete their missions.

"Um, three…I guess…," giving a small smile as he relaxed his gaze.

Clint nodded, "And Banner," this time when Bruce looked up he was staring into the hard eyes of a long time assassin, hand in hair stopping mid fluff, "don't break her heart, or I'll break you."

And with that shocked deer-in-the-headlights look on the doctors face, Clint made his exit, cracking a villainous smirk, but resisting an evil chuckle, all the way down the hall.

Laura narrowed her eyes as she saw her husband coming into the kitchen. Last time she saw that look was when he camped out in the back yard brush, with a box of darts, on mischief night.

She knew that look normally came with repercussions, usually of the not so pleasant variety. She waited till he was right in front of her and raised one delicate eyebrow, "Want to tell me what's up...Hawkeye?"

"Oh, nothing," one last grin and then, "just a little practice for when our daughter tries to bring home a boy."