Chapter Six: Love is a Great Motivator

To say that the kiss was a shock to Clint was a gross understatement. To say that he wasn't overwhelmed and elated by the kiss would be downright lie. He threw every part of himself into that kiss, like it was the only thing keeping him on Earth.

Bruce was like fire to Clint, essential and beautiful while being hot and untouchable. But they were touching, and Clint could feel Bruce burning him up, consuming him.

Not that he minded at all.

They moved together seamlessly, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Bruce was rusty where Clint was experienced and Bruce was passionate where Clint was controlled. Before he knew what was happening, he had Bruce pressed against a wall and was running his fingers through his scrumptious, brown locks. They were even softer than he imagined they'd be.

Bruce couldn't even come up with words to describe Clint in that moment. It was oddly ironic how poetic Clint's thoughts were while the always eloquent doctor was left speechless. He didn't mind though, being able to turn off his mind was a blessing in more ways than one.

Clint pressed for more, bringing more passion to the kiss with a simple nimble on Bruce's bottom lip. It was enough to make Bruce growl, becoming more aggressive in the kiss. Clint was surprised and allowed himself to shoved unceremoniously back against the wall. Bruce could tell he didn't mind by the way he melted into the cage of the taller man's arms.

He was the first to pull away, fear entering his brain sluggishly as the beeping from his watch entered his consciousness. He took several gulping breaths and tried to focus unsuccessfully on getting his heart rate down. Clint ducked his head into the curve of his neck, letting his hot breaths brush over Bruce's sensitive skin.

"I love you." Bruce had to think for a minute to realize it was his voice that had broken the silence. His chest clenched in anticipation as Clint's breath hitched.

Clint looked up to see pure and unrelenting sincerity in the doctor's eyes and felt something break in him. He struggled to breathe normally and keep the crushing sadness off of his face, already mourning.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and hurt threatened to overtake his eyes. "Clint?"

"I'm sorry, Bruce." Bruce never saw the tranquilizer dart come out of the archer's belt, but he felt it enter his hip with a nearly painless jab. The fearfully confused and utterly betrayed face Bruce gave him made him hate himself. "I'm sorry. I just want you to be safe."

Clint gently lowered Bruce to the ground, struggling to maintain a neutral expression. Bruce had a forlorn expression that Clint found himself flinching away from. It wasn't disappointment, but horror. "Clint," Bruce's eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay conscious. "Don't…" Clint almost wished Bruce would have stayed awake long enough to argue with him, to tell him that he was being stupid.

Clint had planned this; neither Bruce nor the Hulk would have let him leave with the whole situation in mind. Even knowing the inevitability of his capture without the Hawk's interference, he wouldn't have let Clint put himself in danger. The thought had warmed his heart while sending a chill of terror down his spine.

He needed to keep Bruce safe.

Bruce had figured this out during his last seconds of consciousness; he had understood the look of loss in Clint's eyes and the reason behind his betrayal. He would have given everything that he had to keep Bruce safe before; now that he knew Bruce loved him, he would have given everything that anyone had to keep him safe.

Giving someone as powerful as Clint someone to love was a very stupid thing to do. Bruce only wished he'd thought of it before.

Clint gently kissed Bruce one last time as he swept his brown curls away from his forehead. "I love you more." Clint stood; the loving expression he reserved for Bruce melting into an impenetrable façade as his knees and back straightened.

He grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door, pulling a hand through his short hair before looking at the message Stark had sent him one last time. Ross mobilizing. You need to lock to lock the gym down.

He opened the only door and went through the security checkpoints, overwriting the protocols as he went. No one could get into that building. At least, not unless they got the code from Clint first.

Clint realized Stark would have no problem hacking Jarvis, but the military wouldn't be able to do it. He strutted out into the parking lot, knowing full well that Ross would be waiting for him. He was a little disappointed when the general himself didn't show.

"Agent Barton, the United States Military requests that you escort us into the facility to retrieve government property." A large group of soldiers stood, motionless, in front of Clint's car. They were headed by an almost scrawny looking lieutenant, who had barked out the statement like an order.

"Request denied." Clint discreetly pressed the panic button on his StarkPhone (a feature installed at the behest of Steve, who had thought being able to easily alert every avenger that there was a dire situation was the most amazing thing on planet Earth). He wondered idly how long it would take Stark to get there; he doubted Thor would get there anytime soon, though he would almost prefer to have the god by his side, just for sheer intimidation value.

"I'm afraid I can't accept that answer, sir." The lieutenant tried to stare Barton down, finding the agents baleful glare a little too intimidating to be successful. He changed tactics. "General Ross wanted to express his sincerest apologies for any inconvenience, and wanted to assert that it would be compensated graciously." The officer raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for the prospect of money to peak the Hawk's interest.

Clint didn't reply, just continued to glare at the young officer, who seemed to be having trouble remaining calm. He gave a pointed look to one of his underlings, who promptly stepped forward to address the archer.

"Sir, if you do not escort us into the building we will take it by force." Clint snorted loudly at the threat. Much to his satisfaction, the lower ranking officer flinched away from the noise.

"This building was specifically designed to withstand the Hulk in a rage. You really think that you can 'force' your way in?" The officer seemed to be gritting his teeth, the tick in his jaw working furiously. He nodded once, a signal that would have confused Clint had he not been waiting for them to attack.

It felt like the entire world descended on the archer. They had a lot more forces waiting in the wings than he's anticipated. He put up a fight, taking out more soldiers than he should have been able too.

They didn't know that he could have killed every last one of them if he hadn't been planning on capture. He let one lucky soldiers think he had an advantage and was taken into custody, a smirk playing on his lips. The Avengers watched from an adjacent roof with concerned faces. They knew what he was doing, but they didn't like it.

"Comrades, I fear that this plan may not be as wise as we thought." Thor ran a worried hand through his beard, fearing for his friend.

Steve turned his worried blue eyes to Tony. "What if they kill him before he can get to Ross?"

Natasha shook her head at him. "Barton never misses his target."

Authors note: Dramatic chapter is dramatic. Sorry, I just had to throw some martyrdom in there; how better to counter the cuteness? Yeah, you hate me; I know. Reviews are always appreciated and will be met by generous awards. ~CQA