11 PM rolled around in Stark Tower and Tony found himself ready to pound his head into a wall. The new equipment he'd ordered from Germany two months ago had finally arrived, sans one tiny crucial part. A fact that he'd only figured out after he had spent hours setting it all up. Now, the panels, meant to convert excess heat into energy, just made a faint whirring sound whenever he placed his palm against them. Frustrated, he pushed away from his desk, debating whether or not to get some coffee and keep working or go collapse on the couch, when JARVIS interrupted him.
"Sir, Agents Romanoff and Barton have entered the building. Agent Barton wants to know if you'll allow them to stay here tonight."
Tony yawned and ran his hand through his hair. "No problem. Ask them if I should get the gang back together."
Whenever the two SHIELD agents stopped by, it was usually to give the team some information from Fury. Ever suspicious, SHIELD didn't trust phone calls, so usually Banner, Rogers, and Thor, if he was on Earth, would have to come to Stark Tower from wherever they were for periodic team meetings.
"Agent Barton says that won't be necessary," he paused, "Sir, it appears as though Agent Romanoff is injured."
At this, Tony paled before stumbling out of his chair to the nearest elevator. "Damn it, Jarvis, why didn't you tell me that first?" he growled, repeatedly jamming his thumb on the glowing down button.
"Agent Barton tells me the injuries aren't life threatening and that Agent Romanoff is expected to make a full recovery." JARVIS replied.
Tony hit the button for floor eight. It had been three months since he'd last seen the two spies. After the Battle of New York the Avengers had gone their separate ways, and since there hadn't been any major world disasters, they hadn't fought together in over a year.
Banner ended up getting a place in the city, and Rogers had a place in New York as well, so Tony saw them occasionally. When he wasn't travelling or working, Bruce would drop by once or twice a month to talk science and catch up. Despite a rocky start, Tony actually ended up as Steve's friend, and he enjoyed going out to dinner with the super soldier and helping him catch up to today's world. Thor had been to Stark Tower a few times as well. He gave news of life on Asgard and came with Jane once, since Tony, well, actually Pepper, had invited her to use his equipment.
Barton and Romanoff were a mystery though. This visit would mark the third time he'd seen them since New York. As far as he could tell, the two were always off on super secret missions. Whenever they did come, they would relay whatever message Fury had before bolting out the door. They were never rude, but Tony felt like he didn't know them at all. The elevator doors opened and Tony put on a smile for his secretive guests. His smile quickly faded though as he saw Romanoff passed out on the couch, her feet up on the armrest, with Barton hunched over examining her feet intently.
At his entrance, Barton looked up with a tired smile. "Stark, good to see you. Thanks for taking us in on such short notice."
Tony could only stare in shock at the bandages surrounding Barton's head and covering his nose. It was only after Barton looked back down did he notice the bandages around Romanoff's feet.
"What happened?" he choked out, eyeing her unconscious form, "What, what's wrong with her?" Dressed in civilian clothes, covered in cuts and bruises, and passed out on the couch, Natasha seemed small and vulnerable.
"We just got back from a mission," he sighed, slowly unwrapping the bandages from Natasha's feet, "needless to say, it didn't end well." He grimaced and dropped the first set of bloody bandages into the trash bag at his feet.
"I'll say," Tony murmured, leaning over to look at Natasha's feet before quickly turning away from the bloody mess.
"We were careful," he said quietly, his gaze never leaving his partner's feet, "but they figured us out. Natasha, of course, managed to cover my ass, and convinced them I was just some poor sap she'd suckered into helping her." His eyes darted to her face with a rueful smile. "They dumped her in a cell and me in the desert," he paused, "so that's that."
Tony sat down on the coffee table and took a closer look at the two spies, eyeing the deep bruises on Natasha's wrists and small cuts on her face. It didn't seem right, seeing the normally composed agent passed out on the couch.
"She's going to be alright?"
Clint paused in his steady bandaging of her feet. "A week of sleep deprivation and torture isn't fun but she'll be fine," he grunted, "just needs a little R&R, that's all."
Tony stared back at him disbelievingly. "A little R&R?" he sputtered, "she looks half dead! She should be in a hospital or the med bay—"
"I said she's going to be fine," Clint snapped, glaring at Tony with shocking intensity, "medical already checked her out and she's fine."
Tony looked slightly taken aback by Clint's sudden anger but he pressed on.
"See, you keep saying that but I'm not really sure you understand what the word 'fine' means. Let me get JARVIS to scan the both of you or I'll call Bruce and he can—"
"Look, Stark," Clint cut in tiredly, "I appreciate that you want to help, I do, but I've got everything covered. We just need a place to crash tonight."
At this Tony fell silent. He couldn't help but ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since they arrived.
"Why did you come here, Barton?" he asked softly. "I know you two have a place in the city you could've gone to."
"The apartment's been compromised," he replied, taping the last bit of bandage down to Natasha's foot, "and sleeping in SHIELD medical wasn't an appealing prospect. Those beds start to feel like cinderblocks after a while."
Clint reached into the air, stretching his back out from its hunched position while Stark nodded, seeming satisfied with this answer.
"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it then. Tell JARVIS to wake me if you need anything. Goodnight, Barton. And Romanoff," he added, nodding at her, before turning and heading back into the elevator.
As soon as the elevator doors shut Natasha's eyes snapped open.
"Nicely done, Barton. The outburst was a little unexpected though," she said carefully, examining him from the couch.
"It's been a long day," he sighed, moving to sit next to her, "he probably thinks I'm just tired and worried about you."
He looked down at her and started running a hand absentmindedly along her short red hair.
"Well, you haven't blown our cover yet, Barton," she said with a light smirk.