Ok, so this is the final bit. During this, you shall find a battle scene cop out (but trust me, you wanted me to cop out. Battle scenes are not Sonny's thing XD), snarky bastardness, and awkward angst/shipping. Forgive me. Just. Forgive me.

Pumpkin, if this was not at all what you were looking for, I super super apologize for taking so long, building you up to it, then not even delivering what you wanted. If it is however, and you like it, then I apologize for apologizing. In short, I'm sorry. *hides* Confession: I'm horrendously self-conscious about this one and I don't even know why. I think it's because I spent so long on it, and now I'm suffering from inadequate feels.

Anyway, I'll shut up now. Take this final bit of your gift fic as an expression of my love~ I hope you like it. Also, I'm already planning a smut-tastic epilogue, so if you do end up liking it, let me know, and I will throw that at you as well 3

PART THREE

In Bruce's defense, he hadn't been present when Loki had told them the circumstances under which the portal would be opened. No doubt he'd confronted Selvig with all the best intentions. When he'd arrived, no one else had been around, and he probably thought he could handle the situation before anyone else exerted themselves unnecessarily. He had no way of knowing that letting the man alone would have been better for everyone, so really it wasn't his fault, and maybe they would all laugh about it tomorrow.

For now, however, the portal being opened was all Bruce's fault, and Clint couldn't have been more furious.

So close. He'd been so close to getting Loki to hand over the Tesseract and ending this battle before it started. Now any hopes of a clean ending lay crushed beneath the rubble of three blocks. Three blocks, he noted, that had been reduced to rubble in eight minutes.

Damn it. Damn portals and Bruce and alien armies, and most definitely damn angry younger brothers.

Clint really needed to find a new job.

Thankfully, Natasha had insisted that he bring his bow along. Clint had thought it overkill at the time- they were only going to talk to the guy, after all. Still, she refused to let them leave until he retrieved it, for which he was grateful now. Even though he'd left it on the ground floor, it was a hell of a lot easier to get to than if he'd left it on the ship, and a lot more useful. After this was all over, he'd have to apologize for making such a fuss.

Once they reached the ground floor, Natasha headed for the door, muttering something about meeting up with Rogers. "Go back up and start picking them off. It'll be easier up there, anyway."

Couldn't argue with that. "You alright on your own for a while?"

"Fine. Just need to check on the others. One of us will let you know if you're needed elsewhere, but until then, just work from here."

"Yes ma'am."

And though she'd barely given herself a moment to breathe since they'd left the interrogation room, Natasha took the time to give Clint a slight blow to the gut. "Smartass."

Without waiting for his retort, she took off through the door, leaving him alone. Typical.

Gathering his things, he returned to the elevator and headed for the roof. If he couldn't prevent the attack, he might as well start counteracting it as quickly as possible. The more of those ugly bastards he and the others took out now, the less clean up they'd have to do later.

After the week he'd had, they'd be lucky if Clint offered to help clean up at all.

He didn't stay on the roof long. Barely half an hour had passed before Natasha got in touch with him, saying she needed a hand on the street. And so he'd gone, fully intending to spend the rest of the battle with her, however long that may be. Which, if he had to estimate, looked like it would be a few more hours at minimum. So when things began to slow down less than ten minutes later, Clint assumed they had just dealt with the first wave of soldiers, and the rest were regrouping before coming in.

Then they met up with Stark, and Clint was forced to rethink.

The man looked far less battle ready than Clint would have expected. Helmet off and strolling casually towards him and Natasha- it was odd, to say the least.

"Calling it a day?"

"You bet." He nudged Clint a bit before motioning to the sky. "Looked up lately?"

He hadn't actually. He'd been a bit distracted by the soldiers, but decided to keep that remark to himself. Turning his attention skyward, however, he realized that Stark might be on to something. For whatever reason, the portal through which the soldiers had stormed was closed. Nothing but unbroken, blue sky.

Well, how about that. Clint took a deep breath and leaned back, resting against the smashed remains of someone's car. "Thank god for small favors."

Natasha wasn't willing to chalk it up to that. "How'd we manage to close it?"

"We didn't. The others were with me. I thought one of you might have done it, but I guess not."

Which made no sense, because if not one of them, then what? It couldn't have been a malfunction. Even if Selvig had somehow made a mistake, there was no way it would have simply shut off on its own. It had to have been tampered with. Selvig could have had something to do with that, assuming he'd come to already. He certainly knew his way around the thing.

One way to find out, Clint supposed. "Why don't we go check on it? Nothing to see down here now, anyway."

A plan Stark approved of, though he opted to wait for Steve and the others. "You two go ahead. We'll regroup and catch up."

After taking a few more moments to catch their breath, Clint and Natasha did just that.

The pair made their way back to the tower quietly, more from exhaustion than anything. Regardless of how short the battle had been cut, it had been a long day. The sooner it was over now, the better. It was only after they'd made it back to the tower and reentered the elevator that the silence was broken.

"Realistically speaking," Clint asked, tapping the button that would take them to the roof, "what are the odds that Selvig came out of it and closed the portal?"

Natasha shrugged. "Only took a few good hits with you. Not sure who would have done it, but it's not entirely impossible. Besides, it's the only explanation that makes sense."

That was true. After all the infuriatingly illogical things that had taken place that week, Clint was eager for this, at least, to make sense.

Upon locating Selvig, the two found that half of their hypothesis had been correct. The man had indeed come to, though when questioned, denied any involvement in closing the portal.

"I've only just woken up," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. No doubt the point of impact. "Though I suspect my attacker might have had something to do with it."

Natasha helped the man to his feet. "Why do you say that?"

"There was no good reason to knock me unconscious, otherwise. I would only have been in the way while they worked to close it."

No arguing that. Clint was sure Loki had asked the man to guard it. If nothing else, the guy would have been a nuisance to whoever had closed it. "Didn't happen to see this person, did you?"

Selvig shook his head. "They came from behind."

Well, Fury wasn't going to be pleased with answer, but Clint supposed worse things had happened. If Selvig's attacker had closed the portal, they obviously weren't hostile. A faceless do-gooder was nothing to worry about, and the Director would get over it quickly. It wasn't as if they'd lost track of a criminal. Speaking of which, Clint had somewhere to be.

He managed to cross half the roof before Natasha noticed. "Where are yougoing?"

"To check on our inmate."

And he was going to. He really was. The promise was a bit difficult to act on, however, when said inmate was nowhere to be found.

Upon returning to the interrogation room, he found the door behind which he'd left Loki to be wide open. He stared at it for a moment, gut clenched. He knew he had to look inside, but god, what he wouldn't have give not to. He knew what he'd find, and more than that, he knew that Fury was going to be livid. He really was, as Natasha had said, going to demand Clint's head.

He thought the man might run, he just wished Loki would have waited until he was someone else's responsibility before doing so.

Taking a deep breath to center himself, he entered the room. Sure enough, it was empty. Well, not entirely. By the wall where Loki had been sitting was a piece of paper weighed down by a pen. As neither of those items had been in the adjoining room, their presence piqued Clint's anger. He could see the man now, searching the tower at his leisure until he came across and pen and paper, knowing full well he wouldn't be caught. Smug bastard. Still, it had him curious, and he picked it up. Scrawled across the top was a short message.

You all really ought to learn to lock doors. But nevermind. You're welcome.

Given the circumstances, Clint could think of only one thing he and the others should be thanking Loki for. If he was right, well, maybe he wasn't too much of a bastard. Still smug, though, but there were worse things the guy could be; the kind of person who runs off before closing his own portal, for example.

Clint folded the note and headed for the elevator, resigning himself to the fact that he'd have to tell the others what had happened. He just hoped they- and Fury. Especially Fury- would be pleased enough with Loki's contribution to their plight to overlook the fact that Clint was the one who'd left the door unlocked.

0-0-0

"You forgot to lock the door."

Clint rubbed at his temples, trying to keep his returning headache at bay. Stark had repeated that fact five times already, and his nerves were wearing thin. "Yes. But I think you're missing the point."

"Really, because I thought the point was to keep Loki contained, not let him run off to god knows where."

"Well I might have had time to lock the door if Natasha hadn't-"

"Don't drag me into this!"

"I'm just saying..." Clint trailed off with a huff. This was pointless. "Look, I know he got out, and I know that wasn't exactly what any of us had planned on, but you're all getting hung up on a very small portion of a very huge point."

Natasha didn't look convinced. "Which is?"

"I was right about Loki."

Thor, who had passively been watching them bicker for the last half hour, finally saw fit to speak. "That's true. Loki did close the portal."

"Allegedly," Stark added.

Rogers came to Clint's defense. "Who else could have done it, then? Wasn't any of us. We wouldn't have even known how to do it. That leaves Selvig and Loki, and in case anyone forgot, Selvig was unconscious while the thing was being tampered with."

And that, at least, shut Stark up. Clint mouthed a "thank you" to Steve, who shrugged it off.

Bruce, whose lingering embarrassment over engaging Selvig in the first place had kept him relatively quiet, jumped in. "If Loki did close the portal, why would he run? He'd have to know how suspicious it would look."

"He's a criminal, either way. I mean-" Rogers paused, turning his attention to Thor. "-even if closing the portal got him off light here, he'd still have to stand trial back home. Right?" The other man nodded, and Steve continued. "Sticking around just wasn't in his best interest. Doesn't mean he didn't help us."

"Exactly," Clint said, turning his attention back to Stark.

The man stared back at him a moment, looking as if he might try to retort, but eventually settled for a low grumble. "Point taken. But it doesn't change the fact that he got away on our watch. Even after Fury's convinced that Loki sabotaged his own army- and believe me, that's gonna take a lot of convincing- we're still in for a tongue lashing. He'll be pissed for weeks."

Something Clint wasn't looking forward to. It certainly wouldn't help his case when he put in for time off. Still, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. "Just tell him it was my fault and I'll deal with it."

Tony shook his head. "It was my tower he got out of. Fury will already be pissed at me for not having better security- no sense in him being mad at you, too."

Well, Clint certainly hadn't expected that. Some of his surprise must have shown, because Stark quickly added, "You've spent the better part of a week playing Loki's pool boy and getting hit over the head. You need sleep, not a lecture. But you owe me."

"Dinner sometime next week ?" Tony was easily won with food.

"At least three dinners next week. Expensive ones. And a new set of handcuffs, because I'm guessing your friend didn't leave those behind."

Well, at least Clint had gotten paid last week. "Done."

"Good." Tony took a seat beside Steve on floor and pulled out his phone. "Now go home, kid. We can handle it from here."

"You sure?"

"Home. Now. You look terrible. Sleep."

It was the closest thing to concern Clint had ever heard coming from Tony, and he decided it was the best he'd get. "Right, leaving." He turned to address Natasha before heading out. "Need a place to crash?"

She shook her head. "I'll going home after this is settled. Call me tomorrow, though. Let me know you aren't dead."

After promising he would (and promising again that he wouldn't forget like last time) Clint left the tower for the final time that day, hoping to god that there was still at least one taxi running in the city. Getting home would be a hell of a feat otherwise.

Three hours and a fifty dollar tip later, Clint found himself at the door of his apartment building. It was almost funny- he'd been looking for a good reason to move somewhere better for years, but at that moment he couldn't think of anywhere else he would have rather come home to. The building's yellow door was comforting, as was the grumpy doorman. Even the sign declaring that the elevator was once again out of order was something pleasant. Not like he needed it, anyway. He only lived on the second floor.

After making his way up the stairs and down a small hall, he found himself at his door- number 25, though due to the missing number, it had read "5" since the third month he'd lived there. But the landlords had drawn a nice looking two next to the remaining plastic digit, so Clint supposed it didn't matter.

Pulling the key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and entered, tossing his things aside. He heard the faint scuffle of his arrows scattering, but couldn't be bothered to pick them up. He'd left the place a mess anyway. He'd worry with it in the morning. For now, he'd just turn on the- oh. Well then.

It was only when Clint went to flip on his lights that he noticed they were already on. Meaning they'd been on since he'd left, and his electric bill would be through the roof this month. Damn. He knew he should have talked Stark down to two dinners.

"They weren't on when I arrived, if that's what has you looking so sour."

Clint jumped a bit at the voice, eyes scanning the room for its owner. Not that he needed to. He'd listened to Loki enough over the last few days. He knew the man's voice when he heard it.

Sure enough, there he was, sitting at the small table that poked out of Cint's kitchen. Not entirely unexpected. Loki knew the location of two things in all of New York: Stark Tower and Clint's apartment. It stood to reason he'd show up sometime. Clint just hadn't expected it to be so... well, soon.

He crossed the room, joining the man at the table. "Been here long?"

"An hour, perhaps."

How the man had managed to get there with no money was beyond him, but he decided not to ask for details. "Sorry for the wait. Traffic was awful."

"No concerns as to how I gained entrance?"

Clint chuckled. "The front door, I'm guessing. The doorman lets anyone in so long as they drop a name. Does it for Tasha all the time."

Loki stiffened a bit at that. "Yes, he mentioned her."

"Oh yea?" He didn't know the guy paid enough attention to register that she was a returning visitor, let alone retain enough to have something to say about her. "What?"

"He didn't say her name, but he asked if you were still 'kissing that pretty redhead' and I assumed."

Oh. Oh. Well. Apparently the doorman paid considerably more attention than Clint thought. The table suddenly felt too formal, at least if the conversation was going in this sort of direction.

"You know," he said, abandoning the table in favor of the couch, "if I was a doorman, that wouldn't be the first thing I asked about someone who hadn't been heard from in days."

He motioned for Loki to join him, busying himself with removing his boots while the man made his way over. Loki was quick to follow, though he stood in front of the couch a while, considering each of the cushions carefully. Finally he plopped down in the center of the couch, leaving a few good inches between himself and Clint.

"Are you? With her still, I mean."

Yep. Moving to the couch had been a good decision.

"No." Clint turned to face Loki, back pressed into the arm and knees drawn to his chest. Room for the other man to move closer if he wanted, and Clint was sure he would want to later. "Haven't been in awhile."

The man was silent a moment, considering either the answer or his own response. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It wouldn't have worked out, and Tasha and I are still friends so it's no big deal.

Loki gave a nervous chuckle. "Not for that." His fingers found the tattered edge of his sleeve again. Clint would have to remember to let him borrow a shirt. "For what passed between us the other day."

"What, that kiss?"

A blush crept to the man's cheeks. "Yes. I took advantage of your situation, and it wasn't entirely fair. Truthfully, I hadn't even considered- well, I hadn't considered anything. Least of all the possibility of..." he trailed off, struggling with whatever thought he'd been trying to complete.

Clint came to his rescue. "A redhead?"

"A woman of any sort."

Clint waved it off. "Like I said, Tasha and I haven't been a thing in a while. You didn't encroach on anyone's territory, woman or otherwise."

Loki perked at that. "Otherwise?"

Ah, so that's what had him worried. "Don't sound so surprised. I've kissed men before, boss."

It didn't happen as often, but enough for Loki's gender to be the least bothersome aspect of their encounter.

The information was comforting for the man, at least, and Loki relaxed. He pulled his knees onto the couch as well and scooted forward, closing the distance between himself and Clint before carrying on. "While we're on the subject of wrongs I may have possibly dealt you, how was my disappearance taken?"

Clint snorted. "A bit rocky at the start, but we worked it out. It helped that you closed the portal. Took the edge off, anyway. Everyone had a hard time staying pissed at you after that."

"Yourself included?" Loki did his best to look wholly disinterested. Clint knew he wasn't.

"We're even." He nudged the man with his toes a bit to lighten the mood. And it worked, if Loki's smile was any indication. Which Clint appreciated now that he thought of it. Hard not to. The guy had a nice smile. It had probably gotten him out of a lot of trouble over the years.

Clint shook himself, dispelling the thought. Wouldn't do any good. He remembered it starting that way with Natasha, too- nice smile. Nice lips. Probably soft. Maybe just one taste. But it hadn't been just one, and it had only escalated after that. It always did, and damn if that didn't make ending it awkward. He'd just as soon not deal with that again. Besides, no point in getting attached when Loki probably wouldn't even be around long. Speaking of which.

"What's the plan, boss? You know where you're going?"

Loki shrugged. "Here and there."

Meaning he had no clue, but his pride wouldn't allow him to admit it. With no knowledge of the area or any money, Clint would only imagine where he'd be living. Maybe the man had some way of sneaking back to Asgard or wherever else for better lodgings now and then, but he doubted Loki would do that much. Even if it were a possibility, it was a risky one.

"You know it's going to be rough for a while, right?"

"Perhaps not so much as you think, but yes, I took that into consideration."

"And just going home was still that bad in comparison?"

The man took his time with answering, and for a moment Clint though he'd overstepped his bounds.

"For now, yes. I'm afraid that I-" Loki sighed. "Well, you saw how I was with Thor. He isn't as thick-skinned as he would have others think. He'll need time."

Clint knew he should leave it alone. His brother and home were delicate subjects for Loki. Still, he couldn't resist. "For what, exactly?"

"To remember why he wanted me to return in the first place. I have a talent for squashing other's affections for me, as I'm sure you've noticed." It was bitter, almost harsh. Clint knew he should have kept quiet.

With the way Loki disappeared, Thor was more worried than angry. He'd hardly spoken a word to Clint or the others once he'd been found missing, and it had taken all of their efforts to convince the man to stay at the tower instead of going out on search. But he wouldn't say that. He'd butted in enough for one night, and it wouldn't mean anything. Not now. Nothing he could say about Thor would make a bit of difference until Loki figured it out for himself, which would take some time by the sound of it. The man was knee deep in guilt, and that was hell to wade through. Clint knew the feeling well enough.

"Stay here a while." It was either sympathy or the interest in the other's lips he hadn't quite managed to shake earlier. Probably the latter, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Pardon?"

"Stay."

"What for?"

"Still a fugitive, remember? There wouldn't have been a portal to close if you hadn't stolen the Tesseract in the first place, and Fury's not going to forget that. He'll have a watch out for you for a while. If you don't want to be caught, the best thing you can do is lay low somewhere safe, and I can guarantee he's not going to come knocking on my door looking for you."

It was foolproof. Loki didn't look so sure. "For how long?"

"He'll probably lose interest in a month or so. After that, you're free to go wherever until you're ready to head home."

"And might I ask why you're offering?"

Clint wished he wouldn't. Was it really so hard to believe that he was genuinely hospitable? Still, he gave the man his answer. "Been there. Living on the road isn't all it's cracked up to be. You start missing stability and familiar faces."

Home, really. Having a home and all that went with it was what you missed, and whether or not Loki would admit it, Clint was sure he already missed his. Bouncing around from alleyway to alleyway every other night wasn't going to help that. His apartment wasn't Asgard and he wasn't Thor, but his couch was comfortable and he wasn't going anywhere. Not for more than a few days at a time, at least. For now, it was what the man needed.

Loki looked to be struggling with the thought, nibbling his lip as if he could pull an answer from it as easily as he could blood. He still wasn't convinced. Clint would be lying if he said it didn't sting a little. Still, it was understandable. It would be an easy enough trick, getting Loki to stay then alerting the others to his whereabouts. Clint wouldn't do it, of course, but Loki had no way of knowing that for certain. No doubt he was weighing his options now, deciding if it was worth the risk.

Clint came to his aid. "Look, it's been a hell of a day, and I don't know about you, but I'm tired. Why don't you sleep on it? I can bring you some pillows and blankets, and you can crash out here for the night. We can talk about it again in the morning when we're both feeling better and go from there. Sound good?"

The man thought on it for a moment, though only for the sake of appearances. Loki had leaned over against the plump back cushions of the couch ten minutes prior, and looked to be on the brink of passing out ever since. "I see no harm in it."

Perfect. "Give me a minute."

Hopping up from the couch, Clint hurried to his bedroom, snatching up a spare pillow . After a fruitless search for a blanket, he scooped up the comforter that rested in a ball at the foot of his bed. He never used the thing anyway. Returning to the couch, he fluffed the pillow a bit and propped it against the arm to Loki's back and handed him the cover. The man took it with a mumbled thanks, then began to settle down.

While Loki tucked himself in, Clint went to the kitchen and flipped on the light above the stove. Once the overhead light was off, the room would be pitch black without it. He personally didn't mind it, but he knew the space. If Loki needed to get up in the night for whatever reason, he'd wouldn't make it three feet in any direction without stumbling over the mess Clint had left. He'd just as soon avoid that.

After flipping off the overhead lights, Clint returned to the couch to check on Loki a final time. The man had burrowed into it. Only his face was exposed, and even half of that was swallowed by the pillow. He blinked up at Clint, seemingly fighting to remain conscious. It was almost endearing. He wouldn't mind seeing it again, though he tried not to think that far ahead. Tomorrow was still a ways off.

"You going to be alright out here?"

"Mm."

Clint smirked. Definitely wouldn't mind seeing this again. "Alright. If you need anything, help yourself."

Loki nodded, or attempted at least. The motion was stunted by the pillow, and the man turned his head slightly to escape it. " 'night."

And then Clint had an urge, one he should have ignored. It was bad timing, if nothing else. The other man was barely conscious, and there was a chance he wouldn't remember it in the morning anyway. Still, the way Loki had turned had exposed the rest of his face. The angle was perfect. If he just leaned in-

Bad idea. Bad idea.

Well, he'd had worse ones. It wouldn't hurt. "Night, boss."

Bracing himself on the arm of the couch, he leaned over the man and pressed a kiss to the center of his lips. He felt Loki tense beneath him and he lingered a moment, enjoying the feeling of having taken him by surprise. When he finally pulled back, the man's eyes had reopened and were scanning him with groggy confusion.

"What was that?"

Clint smirked. "Earth magic. It'll help you sleep."

Giving Loki a final peck on the nose, he pulled back and headed for his own room, pausing when he heard the sound of rustling covers. He waited in the doorway, thinking perhaps... But no. After a few moments, the sound stopped. Loki had settled again, and had no plans of coming after him. It was almost disappointing. Still, he comforted himself with the fact that he'd gotten the last word.

Settling into his own bed, he allowed himself to drift off, his last thoughts of the other man's oddly soft lips. Would have been nice to have another kiss. Just one more, maybe with a little more conscious effort on Loki's part. But there was time for that.

Next time, for sure.

0-0-0

When Clint came out of his room the next morning to find Loki gone, he couldn't find it in himself to be angry. He should have expected it. He'd made running too convenient of an option. Still, after the last few days... well, he supposed he'd just taken it too seriously. Loki liked to talk, after all. Nothing special. He'd needed a shoulder and Clint had provided it. The guy would have just as soon taken it from anyone else, had they offered.

At least Loki hadn't stolen his pillow or comforter. Clint suddenly wanted nothing more than to curl up in them and wait for the day to be over.

Lower in spirits than he thought he'd be that morning, he dragged himself to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, intending to do nothing but drink it and watch movies the entire day. He usually reserved that routine for after a bad break up, but he was craving the comfort of it. Besides, Loki had walked out on him in the middle of the night. It was close enough.

He paused the brew to pour himself a cup, then went to the living area. After setting down his mug, he plopped on the couch, intending to sift through the pile of dvds on the coffee table until one caught his eye. He didn't make it that far, however. A crinkle and an odd texture against the back of his thighs served as a distraction.

Curious, he raised up slightly and felt around for whatever he'd sat on. Oddly enough, it felt like paper and he wondered how Loki hadn't noticed it the night before. Surely the man hadn't been that tired. Unless, of course-

Grabbing the crumpled sheet, Clint brought it to his knees and smoothed it out for inspection. It was a note, written in the same messy script as the one he'd found in the interrogation room the day before.

I accept your offer and will return soon. Tomorrow night at the latest. I only need a moment to myself. Don't be angry. And thank you. Your "magic" did what you promised. I will have to remember to return the favor.

Clint read over the lines several times before carefully folding the note and setting it aside. Picking up his mug, he relaxed into the couch, considering the possibilities. It could be a lie, but he doubted it. Loki hadn't lied to him yet, and starting then would have been pointless. If he was just going to disappear, he would have done so. So nothing to worry about there. The guy would be back when he said he would. Clint would just have to wait it out. And he was good at waiting. Especially when he had something promising to wait for.

He took a sip of his coffee, imagining the smirk that must have been on the man's face when he composed the last of his note. I will have to remember to return the favor. Saucy bastard.

Clint had no intention of letting him forget, anyway.