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Chapter 2
Smoke poured from the stove top. Natasha stood in the kitchen, a fire extinguisher in one hand, and a rag in the other. With the rag, she beat the stove into submission. Clint smiled as he rushed over and flipped the stove knobs off. He grabbed a pair of pot lids and dropped them over the frying pans to choke out the fires. Natasha had a black apron tied around her waist. The unscathed white corner of the apron told of its original color.
"Culinary attempts? Has the world come to an end?" Clint asked. The flames were out, but he left the lids in place until the smoke died down. He couldn't decide what the food had been to begin with.
"I didn't feel like ordering out." She said, replacing the fire extinguisher.
"I could cook." Clint told her. He removed the pan lids and slid them into the sink. The menu comprised of steak, though now it resembled burnt jerky more than filet mignon.
"Stark said he's taking you and Bruce out. I haven't had a single night in this week." She leaned against the marble counter top. "I'm staying here. Pepper and I are drinking a bottle of wine, planting the kids in front of a Disney movie, and she's bringing her friend Sam who is a trained masseuse."
"Sounds like a nice night. I'm actually a little jealous." He said. He trashed the charred beef and placed the still sizzling pan in the sink before opening the fridge. "Any steak left?" he asked.
Relenting her subpar culinary skills to the more talented archer, she retreated to one of the island stools. Propped with her hands beneath her chin, she watched him work. "No, I destroyed two others before you came home."
Clint checked the time glowing from the green clock on the stove. Nearly three p.m. "Little early to start dinner plans, isn't it?"
"The minute Tony shows up you two are taking off, and I can't make you cook for me."
Clint smiled. "I've been played."
"You have."
"What do you want instead of steak?"
"Pad Thai noodles with salmon and snap peas, with your raspberry dressing and pecans."
Clint held the milk in one hand as he scanned the fridge shelves. He threw a look over his shoulder. "How incredibly specific of you."
"I might have mentioned it to Pepper."
"You only burned four steaks? Maybe I should make you burn the salmon too for my amusement." Clint dodged the apple thrown at his head, and set about extracting the needed ingredients from around the kitchen. With Natasha's skills as a cook in severe need of a culinary class, Clint had taken on the chef's position in the family. Most of his own life, he'd survived on noodles in a cup, or produce which needed little thought in order to consume. Desperation for a varied palate translated to his cooking prowess. The salmon required an hour to set in the raspberry sauce he found prepped. Apparently, his past self already considered this possibility and equipped him for it.
With the salmon resting in its flavorful baggies on the top shelf of the fridge, he turned his attention to the noodles. He set a pot of water to boil, found an un-charred frying pan, and dropped a few handfuls of snap peas into a glaze of the raspberry sauce and olive oil. The water boiled, so he added a salt and box of pad thai noodles to soften.
"Bull says, 'hi'." Clint conversed as his hands worked expertly around the stove.
"How has he been?" Natasha asked.
"I'm not sure, I didn't ask." Needing the second front burner, Clint lifted the pot of water and edged it back onto the stove. His already abused elbow protested viscously at the most recent intrusion. He dropped the pot with a bang and retracted his arm against his side.
Natasha stood and took a step toward him.
"It's fine." Clint said quickly. "Just forgot."
"Were you trying to shoot today?" she accused.
Clint flicked the burner on and the noodles continued to boil. He massaged the back of his arm as the pain dulled to an angry roar. "Yeah, well, I forgot that too."
A large grey SUV pulled past the windows and stopped in the driveway. The driver's hand laid on the horn like a New York taxi. Whatever Natasha planned to say in regards to Clint's archery attempt, went unsaid. Tony had arrived, and that would take precedence.
Without bothering to knock, Tony threw open the front door. He had a bag under one arm, and a raven haired girl dangling around his neck. Her wide expressive eyes grew impossibly larger when she saw Natasha and Clint.
"Aunty Tasha!" she exclaimed, wiggling her arms.
Tony lifted her, one handed, from around his neck, and her feet were already running before she touched the ground. She launched into Natasha's arms giggling excitedly.
"Hey, feathers!" Tony announced. He lifted the bag and placed it on Natasha's vacated stool. "Pepper said to bring wine, but I bought a case of something for us too. She got you slaving over the stove again?"
Natasha balled her apron and it landed in Tony's face. The little girl laughed, to Clint it was the most beautiful sound in the world, like the sound of spring daisies blooming, or autumn leaves dropping in fall.
The screen door opened again as Pepper entered. Her friend, Sam the masseuse, walked in beside her. She was an African-American woman, with naturally curled hair, and a smart mini skirt that reflected sophistication and business all at once. She reminded Clint of Pepper herself. It was no wonder they were friends. Pepper had a tray of deviled eggs she set on the counter, and Sam offered something decadently chocolate beneath a cake-cover top.
"Chocolate, wine, and salmon. No wonder us guys aren't invited." Clint said to his wife.
"That's right." She replied matter-of-factly. The raven haired daughter of Tony Stark played with the small rosettes on her blouse. "So cook for us and get out. It's girl's night."
"I'm a girl!" the child declared.
Natasha squished their faces together. "That's right. And we don't have to put up with those stinky men, huh? Except for Phil and Aaron they should be back soon. You want to go raid their toys before they come in?"
"Yeah!"
Natasha let her down. Before the child scrambled away, she detoured into the kitchen. Her small pale arms circled Clint's waist. He hugged her with one hand while the other stirred the snap peas. One little finger curled into his face, beckoning him to bend down to her level.
When he did, she whispered none-to-softly, "I don't think you're smelly, Uncle Hawkeye."
Clint planted a kiss on her forehead and she scampered away.
Pepper claimed his attention. "So this is my friend Samantha Parker. Sam, this is Natasha Romanov-Barton and Clint Barton."
Sam shook hands with Natasha and extended her hand to Clint. He wiped his fingers from the stray pieces of snap peas and raspberry sauce on his pant leg and shook as well.
"A pleasure, Sam." Clint said.
"Pleasure's mine, Mr. Hawkeye. This is a big honor. I'm still not really used to being around Mr. Stark." Sam said with a glowing bone white smile.
"Does anyone get used to that?" Natasha asked.
The school bus pulled alongside the house just as the creaking hydraulic door squeaked open. Through the front windows, the party could see the friendly driver waving a goodbye to the household as the Barton twins exited and flew up the front yard together.
Their exclamations for "Uncle Tony" were heard before the door even opened. When it did, the excitement was impossible to contain. Tony hid behind the center island, and the minute the two approached, all legs with backpacks and lunch pails flying in all directions, Tony burst out of his spot. The children screamed, laughed, and attacked all at once. Tony roared like a monster, and with Aaron hanging onto one bicep and Phil on the other, Tony preceded to strongman them across the living room floor.
"Pepper!" Tony called. "Pepper, I want one. We get to pick one right?"
"Yes, but only one, dear." She played along.
"No!" the boys cried in unison.
"Who am I gonna eat?" Tony replied, grabbing hold of Aaron and pretending to devour his side.
"No! No! No!" the twins laughed.
Clint took the snap peas off of the heat and set them aside until the noodles finished. He poured the candied pecans into a ziplock bag and crushed them to more manageable pieces beneath a rolling pin. As he went through these little motions of domesticity, he watched the boys wrestle across the floor with a strange sort of detachment. He knew this was home. This was everything he ever wanted and more; He had two wonderful boys, a beautiful wife, friends, a house, a normal job . . .
Looking from the outside in was a fitting chance to put into perspective just how lucky he had it. He wondered how long this cloud of forgetfulness typically lasted. He declined asking Natasha, not wanting her to worry more than she most likely already did over him.
"Can I help?"
Barton was so engrossed in enjoying the view of Tony wrestling his kids across the floor, he'd stopped crushing the pecans and leaned on counter, his hand massaging the still painful back of his forearm. Pepper claimed his attention.
"Oh, sorry, what?"
She removed the pecan chips from the ziplock bag and poured them into the bowl he had waiting. Apparently, she'd watched him cook this meal before.
"Is it bothering you?" She asked, indicating his arm.
Clint shrugged. "Off and on today."
"I'm sorry, Clint."
He gave her an odd look. "Sorry? What for?"
"What for?" She repeated sadly. "Oh, any number of things. Sorry you had to give up what you loved. Sorry we can't do more to help. Sorry for living so far away."
Clint chuckled. He took his wooden mixing spoon and swirled the contents of his boiling pot. "Pepper, stop being sorry for things."
The living room antics died down as Tony lay, slain by Aaron's arrow and Philip's shield. With his tongue lolling from one side of his mouth, Stark splayed across the floor with his arms stretched out on both sides dramatically.
Natasha's motherly tone warned the victorious duo that if they didn't haul their cans into their room, a visiting girl was going to rob them blind. That sent the boys running. With his attackers retreating, Stark sprang back to life. He stretched his back as he removed himself from the carpet.
"All right, hawk head. Can we go get Banner now? Tasha can handle the women food crap, right?" He smiled innocently at the assassin who elbowed him, gently, in the gut.
"You boys shove off." Pepper declared. Sam absconded with Clint's wooden spoon, and Pepper checked the marinating fish in the fridge. "Go enjoy yourselves. Tell Bruce I said hi."
"Me too." Sam and Natasha agreed.
Without any more adieu, Tony and Clint made their escape. Tony extracted his keys from one pocket and declared he was driving. As he'd parked Clint's car in, the former archer couldn't complain. He curled around the front of the SUV and climbed in shotgun. Tony backed the car out of the driveway. Soon after, they headed off down the street to the main roadways beyond the cul-de-sac and, Clint assumed, toward Bruce Banner.
"Can I ask you something?" Clint said.
Tony lifted an eyebrow. "No."
"Come on, serious question."
Tony shrugged. "No, Clint, I never considered our relationship anything more than platonic. You are a married man. Just because I am not does not necessarily mean I am available."
Clint snorted. He had noticed Tony didn't wear a ring. Despite the depth of his affection for Pepper, Clint knew Tony wasn't the marrying type. They had a daughter and, unless Pepper pushed the issue, that would be the extent of her matrimonial connection to one Tony Stark. "If I was about to proposition you, I would be the one driving." Clint said.
Tony laughed.
"I've been having trouble remembering things today." Clint explained. "Just little things like the fact that I have kids. That I can't shoot anymore. I don't want to admit that I don't even know the name of your daughter right now, Tony."
The SUV slowed for a red traffic light. Tony turned in his seat to look at Clint. For a while, he did not respond. His eyes searched his friend's, not in an accusatory way. Clint recognized the scientist gleam in his eye; he was being analyzed. The traffic light turned green and Tony eased into the intersection, following the signs for Princeton University.
"All right." He said at last. "Sorry, it's been a bit since you had such a big lapse."
"That's what Bull said." Clint affirmed.
"Docs thought we were passed it. Shows how much they know. You were always full of surprises." Tony went on.
Clint nodded as if he understood.
"So, let's just go through what we usually do. What's the last memory you have? Before this morning, before yesterday, the last vivid memory you had?"
Clint considered the question. Tony spoke as if they had played this game a good many times in the past. When he thought about it, admitted finding just such a livid memory became difficult. "Well, I remember a mission in Libya. I was on an extraction team that picked up Phil. And . . . after that . . . The funeral. Frigga's funeral. Quitting SHIELD."
Tony nodded as he spoke. "Ok, getting closer. Most recent."
"Mexico...Cancun, maybe. I remember Steve was there, but I don't remember anyone else. I don't really remember what we were doing. I know we were at a base, and Steve and I were trying to get in. It was familiar, like we'd been there before. Maybe a SHIELD research facility. The door was stuck. It hadn't been used in a while."
Tony whistled. "God, Clint, that's going back. That's like, twelve years back. Nothing since then? Did you say Cancun?"
"That long ago? I think it was Cancun. I have to think about it again." Clint admitted.
"Bella, Bella."
Clint looked at him again. For a moment it wasn't Tony Stark he saw sitting across from him, but another person from very long ago. Everything around him seemed to fade out of view and he found himself staring at someone he tried very hard to forget. In his mind, he stood as a child looking into a kitchen. A woman there stirred noodles in a large tin pot as she whispered little Italian words to him. He closed his eyes and the strange memory left. Tony still sat beside him.
"What did you say?" Clint asked.
"My little girl," Tony clarified. "Her name is Isabelle. She's six years old as of two weeks from now, and you're coming to the party if only to save me from the ankle biters from her school. It's at the Tower, Natasha already coordinated the trip up. Does she know about this? This memory thing today?"
"She knows I tried to shoot. You saved me from an earful showing up when you did."
"You tried to shoot?!"
Clint lifted his hands and let them drop to his lap. It hurt. "Yeah, well, realized my mistake after."
"Are you all right?" Tony pressed, his voice pitched in concern. "Did you tear something? Break something? Do you feel all right?"
"Yes, mom, I feel fine. It hurts, but I'm not dying. Bull gave me a few Aspirin and an ice pack. It's better now, but imagine my surprise when it felt like someone hauled off and shot me."
"I can't imagine." Tony replied. His fingers were tense on the steering wheel. Clint could see the self-berating coursing through him. It wasn't his intention to make Stark upset, but out of everyone he'd encountered today, he'd always felt the most comfortable in conversations of this kind with Stark. Now that Natasha was his wife, he felt it a disservice telling her that he'd forgotten his own children's names. The result would most likely be similar to what he witnessed in Tony.
"Hey, look, forget I said it." Clint told him. "I just woke up on the wrong side or something. I don't wanna damper our night out."
"No, don't – " Stark interrupted him. "Don't do that. Don't brush it off. It's ok. Sorry it's just been a while since we did this. Let's go back a second again and start over. So you remember the Mexico mission. You might have been in Cancun. You and Steve were trying to open the door. It wasn't long after that mission, maybe two weeks, that we had the incident with Deathlock."
"He crushed my arm." Clint said. "Bull showed me the news article."
"Right. You went into shock. He cut your radial artery on top of everything else. By the time you showed up in the ER, you were dead for three minutes. They bled Steve, I think four or five times, to pump you full of his soldier serum and get you stable again. By the end of the first day, they said you were brain dead. The second day, Bruce found some signs that you weren't. A week later, you twitched. After three months, you could finally sit up.
"The public went nuts. The President's rescue was massively publicized and you taking on Deathlock, by yourself, rescuing the VP, and getting almost killed were all caught on security cameras. Someone leaked the footage. Everyone in the world wanted to know about you. There were some days I couldn't walk into the hospital room without falling over all the stacks of cards and flowers and crap people kept sending to us. The President and First Lady visited you, too. You were always a hero, Clint." Tony looked over as he said it, making sure Clint understood the depths of his words. "Always. Just all of a sudden, the world knew it too. There were the surgeries. The recovery. We had to take it one day at a time for a real long time. Tasha was always there. She was there more than I was, and I'm telling you that honestly, Clint. None of us were surprised when the two of you got hitched."
"I'm surprised she said yes." Clint admitted, laughing.
"She had to, she asked you." Tony reminded him.
Clint laughed harder.
"If it was up to you, Clint, I don't think you'd have let her. You sure weren't asking her ever."
"Like you and Pepper?" Clint turned the tables.
"Well, I'm just not that kinda guy. You know that."
Clint did. "Ok, so that explains why everyone in the world knows me. I saw a bunch of guys from the police department at work earlier, and every single one of them wanted to shake my hand. Bull said to just go with it, so I did, but it was weird."
"Like I said, you turned into Iron Man worthy celebrity status."
Clint settled down in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him to get comfortable. "Great." He said, but he was unconvinced.
They pulled onto College Drive and entered the campus proper of Princeton University. The tree lined road way lazed by the windows as the cool day brought an end to summer. Most of the classes were still in session, lending a relatively traffic free drive to the back of the science building. Bruce Banner was standing in a ring of other doctors from the university staff. He had his white coat over one arm as he enjoyed the sunlight outside the lab constraints. Tony laid on the horn to break up the gaggle of doctors. Bruce shook hands with the company and jogged over to where the SUV pulled through the parking lot. Tony gestured sideways to the driver's side for Bruce to get in.
"Sorry, the car seat is on his side." Tony said as Bruce pulled the back door open. "Shove the bag over, I brought us a case of beer and I picked the Hawk up first."
"Yeah, see that." Bruce pushed the beer over and sat. He strapped the seatbelt across his chest and leaned forward to pat Clint's shoulder. "Hey, long time no see, you hermit. How are the boys? Did they get blue ribbon at the 4H science fair on Friday?"
Clint was glad when Tony answered instead of him. "Clint's having a little bit of a lag today. I've been working to catch him up."
Bruce was on the edge of his seat now. "What? Really? What can't you remember? Do you remember me coming by last Sunday?"
"No, I don't actually." Clint felt less ashamed to admit. After what he and Tony discussed, he felt better about losing his long term memory now and again. Apparently, it always came back. No doubt he would wake up in the morning and get back to normal life again.
"He's back in Mexico." Tony said.
"Mexico? When was the last time we went there? Was that the vacation you took us on last summer?"
"No, Mexico-Mexico. Like 12 years back, I-quit-SHIELD-but-I'm-helping-Steve-on-a-mission-Avenging, Mexico."
Clint watched Bruce's eyes widen. "Oh. Well, that is going back."
"Yeah."
"And Steve, you said?"
Clint acknowledged it.
"Do you remember what you were doing there? I can't think of it now and it's not like we can ask Steve anymore."
Clint thought about it now as he had before. He took his time to work through the cobwebs of his brain. The more he tried to focus on the memory the farther away it crawled. "We took a plane to get there. The place was on a hill overlooking some inlet or something. I think I was piloting. I think I was. I can't remember a lot after that."
"We'll work on it." Bruce said. "We've got a whole case of beer and I'm designated driver, so you and Tony can drink it up and play on memory lane. In the meantime," He produced a deck of cards from his back pocket. "I brought these along to rob you both blind. Bruce-y wants a new car."
so not so much of a cliffy today, but enjoy all the same:)
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