A/N: SO… My head's been STUCK for days, trying to put together something. And then this rolled out like a tsunami. (chuckles) Before letting you get started…!

DISCLAIMER: OH, PLEASE…! I only have enough money to own ANYTHING involving Renner (other than DVDs) in my dreams. (sighs gloomily)

WARNINGS: Adult themes, probably some blood and gore in later chapters, language (sorry, Steve!), weirdness… Feels… Ya know, all that stuff you can expect from my tales.

Awkay, because I've kept going on and on long enough… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

The Timing of a Hawk

1 – A Date

When Clint Barton was fifteen minutes late from their first date Laura, already sitting at a restaurant table, didn't panic. She was concerned, though. She didn't know what, exactly, he did for a living. But so far she'd met him six times at the ER where she worked as a nurse and every single time he was injured in one way or another. It didn't take a lot of brainwork to figure out that whatever his job-description was, it wasn't just deskwork. Somehow his solemn promise to not get himself hurt on this particular day wasn't very reassuring at the moment.

When he was half an hour late Laura frowned and sent him a text. She made a conscious decision to ignore how unsteady her hands were. She barely knew the guy, for crying out loud! And just because he'd already shown her just how good he wasn't at taking care of himself… 'You'd better not be at my ER right now.'

There was no reply. Laura shifted with discomfort on her seat. Wondering how much longer she'd stay when she was far too aware of the looks of pity she was getting from the surrounding tables. She wanted to be pissed off. Wanted to send another, far less pleasant text. But something squirmed in the pit of her stomach, screaming that things were wrong.

She spent another humiliating half an hour there. Smiled politely at a waitress who stopped by and announced that 'No, my companion still hasn't arrived'. Consumed about a gallon of water. When a woman who seemed to be in her late sixties gave her a tiny smile of pity and sympathy, along with a shake of a head, Laura decided that she'd done enough waiting.

The cool air of late November evening embraced her harshly when she left the restaurant and she shivered, wishing that she'd picked a warmer coat. Fighting the embarrassing searing sensation in her eyes, she took a deep breath and braced herself for a lonely night with her TV and grocery store pizza.

Until a sudden voice made her squeak with startle and jump. Quiet and hoarse as it was. "I knew that you'd look stunning."

She spun around a little too quickly, forgetting the high heels she was wearing. Catching her balance, she gasped once and turned her head. Clint sat a few steps away from the building's entrance, wearing clothes that were definitely suitable for a date. She wasn't sure but he seemed to be trembling. "What are you doing sitting there?" was the most intelligible thing she could utter. Because… Seriously?

Clint shrugged. Then winced. "They, ah… wouldn't let me in." Which was when a passing by car cast just enough light to reveal the bruising on his face.

Laura stared and sighed heavily, tensing up from… Well, she was allowed to be worried. "You got yourself hurt again, didn't you?" How bad was it this time?

Clint shrugged again. And winced again. "A little." He swallowed thickly. And winced. "I'm… I wasn't supposed to be late. Sorry."

Laura couldn't help it. She smiled. And came to a conclusion that this man was going to be the death of her sanity. "Why didn't you just call me?"

He showed her his phone. Whatever little there was left of it, anyway. Enough of an answer. He then broke down to a storm of painful-sounding coughs and moaned, squinting his eyes in pain against lights of a passing by car.

Before Laura wasn't sure what to do. She was now. "Get up, you idiot", she murmured far more gently than she'd expected. "You should be in a hospital but I guess my place will have to do."

Clint's eyes widened. As much as was possible with one of them rapidly swelling shut, anyway. "You're… taking me to your place? On a first date?"

Laura should've been far more careful. This was a man she barely knew. And he probably had a concussion. Instead she lost control over herself yet again and laughed. "That's right, Barton. Consider yourself lucky."

His radiant, joyful grin made an army of butterflies flutter to life in her stomach.

They barely talked on their way towards her apartment building. Nervous like a pair of teenagers, both wondering what'd happen next. And what the other wanted to happen next.

Once they reached her apartment Laura stepped right in, only to discover that Clint froze to the doorway, glancing around. She giggled in a very embarrassing manner. "Great to see that you're a proper gentleman. But get in here before my neighbors start talking."

Clint smirked while he obeyed, closing the door behind him. "You just dragged in a guy who looks like he's gotten ran over by a steamroller. I'll bet they're already talking."

True, that.

They made their way to her bedroom in a comfortable silence. Clint looked around so subtly that she nearly missed it, a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. Laura wished that she'd taken the time to clean up a little. She would've if she'd known that she'd bring him home.

Clint was almost bashful when he sat slowly to the edge of her bed. He licked his lips, trying to get comfortable. "This… wasn't exactly how I pictured tonight ending."

Laura snorted. Finally finding her first-aid kit. "That makes two of us." She took a breath, wondering if this was all real. "Okay, then. Take off your shirt."

Clint hesitated in an absolutely adorable way, then obeyed. Laura's eyes lingered a little too long on his abs and chest. She'd seen them before when patching him up, but there, in the intimacy and privacy of her bedroom… Her heart did funny things. And finally some color appeared to Clint's unhealthily pale cheeks. The tips of his ears turned red.

Laura rolled her eyes. "I saw your naked ass when we first met", she pointed out. A bullet to the butt cheek on a Valentine's Day was what first brought them together. "A bit too late to feel awkward, don't you think?"

Clint pursed his lips. "True", he admitted and gave her a glance over his shoulder. "I always seem to be half-naked when we meet."

"I wouldn't be complaining if you weren't bleeding and bruised every time we meet."

"Laura Morse, are you hitting on me?"

"I might be." She sat down beside him, entirely too aware of how little distance there was between them. "But keeping you alive is a full-time job. So let me focus on that for a moment."

It might've been steamy. Even romantic, perhaps. But then Laura's eyes locked on the bruising covering his side and she remembered that there was a reason why he was half-naked on their sort-of-not-quite-first-date. "Right." She cleared her throat, trying to focus. "So, broken ribs and a concussion. What else?"

Clint glared straight ahead. As good of a patient as he always was. "My back feels funny", he grumbled at last.

"Funny?" Laura repeated, with as much patience as she could muster. She began to examine him slowly, somehow getting the feeling that he wouldn't appreciate fast movements when he was feeling vulnerable. "What happened to it?"

Clint smirked sheepishly. Still refusing to look towards her. "I sort of fell on it, through a window."

Laura froze, there. "You… What? How the hell do you sort of fall through a window?" The second he opened his mouth she decided that she didn't want to know. "Forget it." With a deep inhale she focused on her task at hand, and this time it was her turn to wince. There were several long, deep wounds that'd by some miracle stopped bleeding. Some of them still had glass inside. They'd have to be cleaned up before there'd be a nasty infection. There was also a lot more deep bruising. At least nothing felt broken. "How do you always get yourself banged up like this?"

"According to Coulson it's a gift", Clint replied, sounding as amused as anyone could with a back that looked like it'd gone through a shredder.

"Coulson?" Laura inquired, hoping that she was able to distract him from how she was hurting him while cleaning up the wounds.

"Phil." Clint shivered, just a little, but didn't make a sound of complaint. "My… boss. And friend. With how much he nags he could be mistaken for a mom."

Laura hummed with amusement. "Well. Considering the state of you, he doesn't do enough nagging."

"I don't think anyone could."

Laura shook her head. The damage was good to be patched up. "You're too stubborn for your own good."

Clint snickered. "You have no idea how many people have said that." He shrugged the best as he could. "But… Sometimes it works. Having a thick skull, I mean. Took me… what, nine months and five trips to your ER to finally get you to agree on a date. And here we are."

Despite numerous scars his skin was softer than expected and Laura's hand lingered, tingling oddly. "Here we are." And she was fighting very, very hard to come up with reasons why she shouldn't kiss him. "It was six trips to my ER, by the way. But who's counting?"

Clint finally looked at her. There was something incredibly soft in his eyes and on his lips a pleased grin that made her whole body feel like jell-o. (Not that she would've ever admitted it.) "Yeah. Who's counting?"

Laura smiled. Knowing all too well that it was probably nauseatingly dopey. Her hands were still on his bare skin and she was pressed so close that she could almost feel his heartbeat. Or maybe the rapid thudding was her own. "Okay, you smug bastard", she decided upon catching his eyelids drooping heavily. "You've had too much excitement for one day. Get some sleep. I guess I'll have to wake you up every few hours."

Clint blinked once. Twice. Thrice. It was the most heartwarming thing she'd ever seen. "You're… asking me to spend the night? On our first date? 'though I was late?"

"To be fair, you had a decent excuse. Besides, it'd be against my professional ethics to send you home alone in that condition." She helped him put on a shirt. "You're making me break all my dating rules, Barton."

No longer hesitant, he finally lay down. His eyes were barely open and she had hard time comprehending his quietly mumbled words. "'making me break all my rules, too."

Laura was incredibly happy that he fell asleep right after, because otherwise she would've ran out of excuses to not kiss him.

Laura fell asleep at some point, despite her best attempts. When her eyes fluttered open she saw tiny beacons of light. She blinked with confusion upon discovering that they were… candles. About a hundred of them, spreading through the entire bedroom.

She sat up slowly. Wondering if she was still dreaming. "What is this?" she sputtered.

Clint, who'd been lighting up a one more candle and who seemed a great deal more aware already, gave her a coy little grin. Clearly wondering if he'd done the right thing. "Our second date", he revealed hopefully, his cheeks gaining a rosy hue despite the persisting paleness. "And… an apology, that I was late for the first." He held out something with a hand that wasn't entirely steady. "I got you a cupcake, too."

How the hell is a woman supposed to react to that?

Laura, for one, found only one proper way. She got up, not caring if the speed made her feel dizzy because her head was already spinning. The second she reached him she placed one hand on each side of his face and brought her lips to his. The kiss was long and electric, made her whole body pulsate in a way she'd never experienced before. His taste filled all of her, driving her insane.

They only broke apart due to lack of oxygen. Clint's flushed cheeks and dazed eyes made him appear even more alluring than he was before. His Adam's apple bobbed. "A kiss, huh?"

Laura shrugged. "Second date. It's appropriate." She licked her lips, still tasting him on them. "Now keep apologizing."

Obeying gladly, he brought his face closer to hers. Until they were only a breath apart, and she pressed a finger to his slightly parted, surprisingly and tantalizingly soft lips. "Barton?" she murmured hoarsely. "Never be late again."

Clint smirked. "You want me to stop being late? Then don't make apologizing feel so good."

End of number 1

A/N: (giggles) If that's the second date… Imagine the third!

Soooo… Whadda ya say? Would you like to read the five more tales (which would all be connected)? PLEASE, do let me know! Hearing from you makes my day.

In any case, THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading!

It's time to tune out. But who knows. Maybe I'll hear from ya again?

Take care!