If you recognise it… I don't own it.

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The battle wasn't one of the strangest that Hawkeye and Captain America had had to deal with over the relatively short period of time they had been on a team together. It was almost expected that Doctor Doom would use robots. And whenever there were robots running around, you could count on Ironman to turn up.

It was like the Supervillain took offence at anyone else using robotics to attack what had become to be known as his territory; namely New York City and most of the state.

Though Ironman would often turn up if anyone else was using anything else to attack said same area. And if robotics were used anywhere else the bookies would give good odds as to Ironman turning up as well.

While Ironman wasn't the most deadly of the Supervillains around, he did cause the most damage to the American economy. Which automatically put him near the top of the "Dastardly Supervillain List" (as Clint had dubbed the Senate's Priority List).

Whether it was Ironman or the Alpha Team (of Captain America, Hawkeye and Black Widow) that drove the Latverian Monarch away nobody really cared. And the media would report it as a successful defence by the Alpha Team against the conjoined might of Doctor Doom and Ironman.

In the changing room afterwards, Clint returned to the subject of Tony.

"I'm not sure," Clint confessed, "He reads honest. But there's a lot of bad reports about him."

"I don't care." Steve shrugged, "That's the past. He's never done anything to me. And I've been the one chasing him. So you can't say he corrupted me."

"Not my view," Clint snorted, "Unless you count your enjoyment of Science Fiction."

"You'll see," Steve grinned, "Do I have your blessing?"

"As long as he doesn't hurt you," Clint agreed, "But I need you to be careful."

"Why?"

"You know that place he goes?" Clint closed his eyes, "Inside his head?"

"Yes. What about it?" Steve was confused.

"You'd know it as Shell-Shock." Clint sighed, "We call it PTSD. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He's been hurt. Possibly very badly. No one knows what happened. Or if they do, they're not telling."

"When he's ready, he'll tell me." Steve was firm.

"I'm just warning you." Clint stated, "When he goes there, he's not seeing you. And I have no doubt that he'd fight if he was triggered in the wrong way. I don't think he'd succeed in actually hurting you, but you'd blame yourself forever if you had to hurt him to protect yourself, him or anyone else in the vicinity. I don't want that to happen."

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So Clint went to his first Tony Movie Night, and yes, the capital letters were needed. Despite the fact that it was Science Fiction he became engrossed in the story.

All three of them pigged out on pizza and garlic bread. There was enough to even satisfy Steve's appetite.

They fell asleep where they had been watching. Steve on the couch. Tony squished in an armchair. Clint had been perched on the back of the couch, but he had ended up, somehow, under it.

Steve cooked a breakfast of pancakes and fresh bread rolls (he woke up much earlier than the other two). Then Tony added his contribution of omelettes and smoothies.

It was a worryingly domestic scene, Clint reflected. However it was also extremely comfortable. It was clear that the two of them had done this several times and knew exactly what the other wanted. Even Clint slotting in didn't throw off their balance considerably.

"Just how far have the two of you gone?" Clint asked as he and Steve left Tony's place (a very nice penthouse in an extremely upmarket area).

"What do you mean?" Steve frowned.

"How far have you gone?" Clint pressed, "What base? Kissing or full making out?"

"He's very nervous about touch." Steve reminded, "I'm taking it slow. Holding hands occasionally. I might even get to kiss his hand every so often."

"He's serious about you." Clint sighed.

"You're sure?" Steve breathed.

"Absolutely." Clint nodded, "You two were like an old married couple at breakfast. If I hadn't been there last night, you'd have gone to sleep in each other's arms. Don't try to deny it."

"We've done it once before." Steve agreed, "I had a devil of a time extracting myself to cook breakfast the next morning."

"Look," Clint turned to face Steve, "I don't know how this is going to play out. But I'll fight your corner for this. At the moment he's good for you. You're adjusting a lot faster than anyone expected you too."

"He sometimes lets me into his workshop." Steve shrugged, "Things don't look quite as futuristic and scary after you've seen the insanity of his lab."

"He's still designing?" Clint blinked.

"Not weapons," Steve replied, "And yes, he did tell me he used to. But its prosthetic limbs and body armour."

That made sense to Clint. Before Tony had invented weapons to destroy-stroke-defeat the enemy. Now he was trying to protect the soldiers. Trying to give them a life after everything went wrong.

Tony hadn't forgotten his roots. He had just found another way. And if the armour was anywhere near the quality of his weapons… Clint really wanted to get his hands on it.

It also made Clint think. May be Tony hadn't been so far off the rails when he talked about the closing of the Weapons Department. Perhaps he had just decided on a slight variation of direction. A shield instead of a sword.

Clint could understand the feelings behind the action. For many years he had been an assassin for hire. And while the money had been good a part of him had died with every shot taken. Because it had never been for the benefit of the world. Only the benefit of some other lowlife.

Joining SHIELD had granted him the ability to improve the world with his shots. Yes, he still killed when required. But he was removing scum of the Earth so that the world was a cleaner place. And more often than not, he was not taking the shot as an assassin. He was taking the shot as overwatch. Protecting the men and women completing the mission.

He was not a killer anymore. He was a protector.

It seemed Tony had found that his preferred path as well.

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Please Review.

Thanks to my reviewers:

DaemonWolfe – That was sort of my aim. Besides Firefly is Cowboys in Space! It's Science-Fiction for people who hate Science-Fiction.

YYHfan-KB – Thanks. Was trying for a protective Hawkeye and he's sort of taken over. Also this way allows me to write romance without having to write romance. I don't read romance so I can't write it well.

I write stories because I can't draw. I have all these images in my head that I cannot reproduce. So I try to describe them with words. If anyone would like to try to translate what I have written into what they think I saw in my head, they have my permission. I only ask that I be notified of it, so that I may look and go "Ooooh!".