She was half certain that the murmurs and hums wafting whisper quiet through the speakers were that of a Russian lullaby. It wasn't Peggy's area of expertise, but she was intrigued by the wavy head of red that always seemed conveniently facing away from every camera carefully hidden in the observation room.

Carter wasn't surprised by the unaffected reaction the teen had to a gilded cage. It seems she must have been quite accustom to them by her young age. She heard the familiar sound of the young man's fingers scraping over his unruly hair in a physical representation of his fascination and confusion over his former target and his current status for breaking an order.

Luckily for the Hawk, he only broke Fury's direct orders. Director Carter still outranked Agent Fury by several levels within SHIELD.

"Is there something I can assist you with Agent Barton?" Peggy asked as she continued to study the monitors and the glimpses of the girl's face. A strong nose, a pout that was cold and not sad or sympathetic. Careful eyes. Green perhaps. Rail thin frame that would quickly go from a bare sapling to a full bloom.

"Oh Nah." Said the young man as if he forgot why he wandered in... like he didn't realize he had to badge in to enter... Guy was just out for a little stroll. "I thought you might be ready me to give you my report directly or maybe you had a new assignment for me."

"Mm that's quite ambitious of you given your recently sustained injuries." Peggy said turning to look at him. She sure didn't look 78 if you asked Clint. But maybe that was an English thing or something. Elder, distinguished lady from across the pond who could probably still hand him his ass if she had to.

"Guy's gotta stay busy.." Barton offered, hand in his hair again.

"Yes we don't want those hands idle." Peggy decided. "They get you into trouble enough." She smiled and he smiled back in relief.

/

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" Tony tapped the touch screen. "Run winter battleground scenario #138."

"Yes Sir."

Clint watched the cavernous, mostly empty room begin to be overwritten by a light grid, mapping over blank surfaces, hanging ropes, suspended platforms, and so on until it began to take form, shape and color. He found himself in a winter landscape that felt utterly real right down to the snowflakes falling on his cheeks and lashes.

"Now remember people. This is an 'every man for themselves' scenario." Tony said into their earpieces. In another section of the training grounds Bobbi twirled her batons slowly studying the woods around her. "There will be simulated attacks and attacks from the others as you cross paths." Wanda's face lit with a soft red glow as she rolled and stretched her fingers ready for some attack where she stood in a deep valley near a half frozen stream. "Think capture the flag. Individual. No teams." Tony's voice went on. Sam clapped his hands before rubbing them together and put his goggles on. "Winner takes all." Scott Lang was pumped and talking to himself. He had no idea that Peter Parker was watching him from a tree branch high above him. "Losers buy dinner." Tony said.

"3, 2, 1..." Explosions started going off all around them, gunfire, shouting. The sounds of battle were everywhere as each individual sprang into action in their individual locations. This was as much a strength, conditioning, and training exercise as it was a test for new tech Tony never seemed to stop working on.

Banner had said he had to start sleeping more, but what did that guy know? He had anger issues he wasn't exactly dealing with. Or maybe that's where he was? Off working out the issues... Whatever. Wherever you are... Deal with your own baggage, Bruce... and stop ALWAYS agreeing with Pepper while you're at it.

Tony's face was awash in the glow of the monitors and the giant window that allowed him to oversee the "world" below but kept him and the control room obscured. He'd set up a great little mock up like this for a guy named Chuck in Westchester County. Stark preferred to correspond long distance and occasionally sent Happy to go deal with in person concerns and fixes.

It wasn't the big fuzzy blue guy or the dork with the crappy visor that bugged Tony Stark. It was Chuck and his all-knowing gaze. Tony's dislike of Psychics trumped Happy's crappy poker face around Mutant kids so Tony gave Hap a raise for facing his fear of saying or doing the wrong thing around a school full of hormonal in-humans.

The Professor always made sure his right hand man returned in one piece. Tony made sure the X-Mansion had whatever it might need. The Avengers could only do some much. The world was a big place... and the universe was even bigger. Infinite, some might say.

Anyway... back to the floor show. "Think Morse would be offended if you dressed up like her for me next Halloween?" Tony asked feeling Pepper settle into his side, hand on his stomach.

"Yes." Was Pott's flat reply.

"I dunno. I think it's a good option for the Annual All Hallow's Eve Stark Extravaganza." He said watching the lanky blonde take cover from enemy fire and a stray web blast. Pepper heard a murmured "So close, kid." As Peter swung by and flipped through the air and into another canopy of pine needles.

Pepper smiled. She knew they would never admit it, but she sort of felt like Peter and Tony had kind of needed each other. They didn't as much anymore, but there was a familial affection there that Pepper found to be sweet.

Sam soared by the viewing deck rattling the outermost layer of glass as a red energy curled around his ankle and threw him off course. "Not cool Wanda!"

"Every man for themselves, Sam." Wanda replied as she physically matched and moved with her kinetic manipulations. Tony dropped his arm around Pepper's waist as he looked from each monitor, assessing vitals on each participant. "You heard Tony."

"At least somebody listens to me." Tony said as he and Pepper stood by observing.

Below them Clint hit his back and kept rolling until Bobbi was the one beneath him in the snow. They were locked in hand to hand. Her batons and his nightstick, both determined not to allow the other to get in a hit. He could practically hear Wanda in his head reminding him not to pull punches when Bobbi viciously snapped at his wrist causing him to drop the nightstick and allowing her to wriggle loose and kick him off her. He really couldn't help himself. He snapped open his bow and produced an arrow following the girls retreat. He let the arrow fly and took off after her only to slam chin first into the snow.

Something tripped him...

He looked down to see sticky webbing around his ankles and feet.

"Sorry Mr. Barton." A red and blue blur swung by.

"Clint. It's just Clint, kid." He said groaning.

"Right Clint, so sorry Clint." The spider-man said as he swung out of sight.

"Come on Legolas, don't make us distinguished Gentlemen look slow down there." Tony said in his ears.

"I'm not distinguished Tony." Clint said cutting the webbing off his ankles with a knife he hid in his arm guard before pulling himself upright again.

"Oh right. Former FAKE Farmer with a new rock n' roll hair cut." Tony replied. "Very hip."

An arrow clattered off the thick glass in front of Tony's face, specifically the spot between his eyes making him blink hard. Pepper smiled and patted his shoulder. "I'm going to go make sure the dinner reservations are in order."

"I'm not in the game. I'm the Dungeon Master." Tony called over his shoulder.

"Be that as it may, Dungeon Master, I'm pretty sure you're going to be picking up the tab tonight." Pepper offered warmly as she let herself out.

/

"And then I was like "THWIP! THWIP! And the Archer goes down and before I knew it I was narrowly missing the Spy because she's way better at avoiding the webshooters-"

"That was a pretty great save Wanda." Scott said as he passed the garlic bread down the table.

"I'd rather not have you injured if it's avoidable Scott." She said gently ladling some soup into her bowl.

"But girl's got no problem whipping me around like a rag doll, but please by all means save Tic-Tac's bacon." Sam grumbled as he plopped a pile of ziti onto his plate. The Parmesan dispenser floated over to Sam as a peace offering. Sam eyeballed Wanda suspiciously, but took it and began raining cheese down on his entree. Bobbi chuckled and Clint smiled as he uncapped a couple beers for them.

Italian had been decided on and naturally Tony did nothing small if he was paying so it was a veritable feast. Peter was talking through a mouth full of pasta and Vis did his best to follow the young man's heroic re-telling of their day of training exercises. He didn't eat exactly, or need to eat, but he did enjoy how they gathered for meals from time to time.

Time spent together was very important for team building, morale, and trust. Although lately there were always the obvious missing elements to the group. They were accustomed to the comings and goings of the Asgardian and the Panther of course had a kingdom to Rule over. But there were more grieved over absentees.

As often as Tony mentioned or thought about Banner, the truth was that Bruce had been missing since Sokovia when the Big Guy went down on the Quinjet to parts unknown.

The Captain had disappeared after his battle with Stark over the fate of the Soldier. (For others at the table? After he sprung them from a floating prison..)

And perhaps most sorely missed... at least by one of their company... was the Widow. Vis had noticed that after the events following the accords the Russian Avenger had become a Ghost to them. Even while others were mysteriously released and exonerated. Even when a mystery letter arrived for Tony from Steve or they just assumed Banner was back to doing what he did before until he was truly needed... Romanoff was in the wind and radio silent.

For his part, Clint fulfilled his role to the group, to Wanda, to Ms. Morse, all while concealing a troubling emotional wound with the passing of each day that there was no hint of his long time partner's return.

Vision thought he might understand what that could feel like. He was fairly certain that he too would experience a similar pain if something were to become of Wanda and he had no way to verify her well-being.

The table erupted with laughter over a dry little one liner from Mr. Lang and as Clint glanced around him, he met Vision's gaze, the being nodded and smiled at him. Clint returned the nod before turning back to Bobbi Morse with a smirk as she smacked him in the shoulder about something that had Sam rolling with mirth.

/

It had been a solid end to a long day, Bobbi ate two dishes of chocolate mousse before chasing it with 3 more beers and Clint smiled as she snored softly. He had put her to bed, wrapped her up like a blanket burrito. Nightstand equipped with water, pain relievers and waste basket just in case. She wasn't a light weight but you never knew.

The world went noise-less as he removed his hearing aids. He gave Lucky a scratch on the head and pat on the side on his way to the shower. The hot water steamed up the washroom pleasantly for him as he ditched his clothes. He felt a few new aches that were going to melt under the hot spray of the water, he hoped. He felt the pleasant little smack of each drop of water as he let himself check out for a moment.

He didn't start consider washing until he was sufficiently toasty, but to his confusion the soap wasn't sitting where it had been a moment ago. He stilled himself as he felt it glide over his shoulder blades.

Time out.

Was he going to have to see to a buzzed Bobbi and escort her out of his shower, towel wrapped and stumbling? Blubbering about Ex and just needing some closeness... He was prepared to say something, sighing, eyes rolling as he caught a hint of blonde out of the corner of his vision.

He blinked, dumb struck as he turned and looked down at Natasha who was suddenly there. Okay... was he the drunk one tonight? She looked back up at him and reached up, bar of soap in one hand and began lathering up the longer-than-usual mop of sandy hair on his head. And then felt along the sides of his skull, hair buzzed off short and close to his skin.

Barton blinked again, slowly watching her face as she studied him in return. He took in what she was doing, a good hard scrub against his scalp that felt so good to him and then the gentler touches to follow, traces of old scars and new stubble. Clearly the steam had gotten to him because he was going to wake up with a concussion while Lucky lapped his face to death in an effort to revive his owner.

Nimble fingers raked their way through his hair as it was washed clean and slid down to his neck, to his shoulders and then settled on his chest, her gaze falling with them. Clint realized, maybe only just now that her usual red hair was hidden away by a silvery blonde shade he had never seen before. Even her brows were lighter. She almost looked like a totally different person, but... not really. He wasn't sure he liked it, but he was so relieved to be seeing her he didn't care if he was having a weird ass dream.

She inched closer and folded herself in against his chest, skin warm, soft and VERY real. She tucked her head under his chin and her cheek grazed his chest as he wrapped his arms around her curves protectively, possessively, afraid to lose her in the stuttering of his heartbeat. She pulled her face back up to his and plush lips grazed his as if searching for something. It was familiar and grounding for them both. He pressed her closer to him feeling the flat of her stomach. It was greeted by pressure and pleasant friction that was both pure torture and absolute elation to him.

He pulled her up in his arms, pushed her against the tile as her legs drew up and spread enough to wrap themselves around the small of his back and buttocks and thigh as she initiated, positioning herself and nudging him within with a soft jab of her heel on his spine. It was nearly impossible not to lose it as he buried himself within her and felt her clench all around him in response. He began remembering their familiar rhythm and how strong she was. How in control she was until she wasn't anymore.

She stopped directing him with little motions of looks, hands, lips, heels. She urged him to take over and he thrust into her over and over again as she dug her fingers into his back and shoulders. Breath fast, labored near his ear.

He wasn't sure how long they were in there entangled together like that, but he knew he came more than once. So did she as they shifted in speed, position and tempo until he was tired for much better reasons than before and the water ran ice cold. He turned off the spray, trembling as he fumbled for a towel after draping her in his ratty purple robe. He wrapped his arms around her studying their foggy reflections in the mirror.

Natasha leaned back against him, hand going up to cradle his neck as they stared at each other's reflection across the counter. His eyes were so full of questions, but she had no interest in talking tonight. She didn't want to think and she wanted to forget her night terrors altogether.

She didn't want to see him fade away so she kept staring at his questioning expression and felt along his warm skin for reassurance. He's alive. He's real and he's still here. Even when she hadn't been. He remained the steadfast Archer. The guy that pulled everything together for her.

He smiled a little at her as she pulled his hand to her lips kissing it and laying it against her chest before letting go, turning back into the warmth of skin to skin contact.

If she had a home to speak of, this was definitely it.