Author's Note: First of all, I apologize for the late posting. This sinus whatever-it-is really knocked me on my behind, and I'm finally able to think clearly. I like to keep at least one chapter ahead, so I don't post, say, Chapter 10 until Chapter 11 is written. I'm loving the rewrite, and I'm glad everyone is, too. It's just taking a bit longer.

Cara: All questions will eventually be answered. There's a ways to go for these characters, though, as issues keep cropping up. :) So glad you're enjoying the story!

All that said, hope you enjoy! ~lg

oOo

Clint and Courtney arrived in Amarillo late and thoroughly exhausted. After renting Clint's favorite black pickup truck, they drug into her apartment and glanced around. The place had the feel of neglect even though she'd cleaned it out before leaving. The counter was piled with mail that her sister picked up for her, and she felt tension in her shoulders evaporate immediately. Even if it meant being seventeen-hundred miles away from Clint, it was still home.

Clint stood in the living room while she took her luggage to her room. When she returned, he was still in the same place. "I'll be back tomorrow before work."

Courtney frowned at him. He might have been a trained spy and able to survive on minuscule amounts of sleep, but she didn't want to put him through that. She glanced around. "Stay here." She motioned to the couch. "It's more comfortable than it looks."

He smiled at that. "I've slept on that couch before."

"I know."

"Thanks, by the way." He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. "For not telling Natasha about that."

She draped her arms around his neck and smiled. "You're welcome." A moment later, a massive yawn split her face as he laughed. She buried her face in his shoulder until it passed and then jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm gonna. . . ."

"Yeah." He let her go and slipped out of the apartment to get his bag from the truck. By the time she'd dressed for bed, he had returned and quietly bid her goodnight. Courtney fell asleep almost immediately and slept soundly until morning.

She woke in the best way she could imagine. After hitting the snooze button three times, she felt Clint sit on the edge of her bed. She opened her eyes as he leaned one hand over her to push into the mattress near her hip. A smile came to her face. "Hi."

"Morning." He grinned. "As much as I'd love to let you sleep, you'll be late."

Courtney glanced at the clock and then sat up suddenly, nearly cracking Clint's head in the process. "How. . .? I thought I set the alarm!"

He stood and let her gather her wits. "Get ready. We'll get breakfast on the way."

She watched him leave the room, enjoying the view, before pushing back the blankets and darting for the bathroom. Then, she took her time to dress carefully while she considered her day.

How did she really feel about going back to work? The last time she'd been at the bank, she'd been so traumatized that she couldn't even walk into the building. Now, she planned to waltz in there as if nothing happened. Yeah, right, she thought. I just hope I get past the door.

Once dressed, she found Clint waiting for her. He'd already folded the blankets he used the night before, and he handed her a travel mug of coffee. He'd made it sweet today, and she stopped herself from shaking her head. They'd managed to go from friends to something a whole lot more than simply dating in less than two weeks. She liked the domestic feel of their relationship even if she was fully aware of what Clint did when he left for a mission. The little things, like coffee, came second-nature to him, and she realized he enjoyed having another person in his life besides his partner or team.

They stopped for breakfast on the way, as Clint had promised, and then Courtney forced herself to eat half of it. The closer they got to the bank, the stronger the memories. By the time Clint pulled into the parking lot, he'd reached over to take her hand, drawing her attention from the building to him. "Want me to walk you in?"

She smiled slightly. "No." A quick glance at the door made her shake her head. "I need to do this by myself."

He accepted with a slight squeeze of her hand and then parked. "I'll be here if you need me."

"All day?" She blinked when he chuckled. "Never mind. Dumb question."

He leaned over to lightly kiss her. "Valid question," he said quietly, his eyes telling her that he'd stake out the bank if she felt it necessary. "But I'm gonna find a hotel and touch base with Nat. We've got a mission planned for the week after I get back, so we'll do most of our prep work via secure telecom."

Rather than asking what the mission was, she chose to look back at the bank doors. She knew why he told her that. He'd given her the opportunity to ask about his mission, and she decided it was time to trust him. She didn't like his job in the least, but she liked—perhaps even loved—him. And he needed her trust.

Taking a deep breath, she pasted a brave smile on her face as she turned back to Clint. "I'll be off at five-thirty," she said, her breath catching as it always did when he stayed so close to her.

"I'll be here." He kissed her again and then leaned away, letting her open the door. "After dinner, we can go over to your sister's if you want."

"That sounds great." She stepped out of the truck and then froze. What did she say? The typical "Love you" didn't apply—yet—but a simple "'Bye" wasn't appropriate either.

Clint saved her from the moment. "I'll see you later."

Courtney finally turned from the truck and started walking toward the bank. Like before, her mind filled in the fire lane with ambulances and firetrucks, the sirens echoing back to her. She swallowed, focusing on the one opening that had, thus far, defied her. Then, someone else—a loan officer—entered the bank while calling out a surprised and delighted greeting. Courtney lifted her hand to wave to him as the phantom ambulances faded just a touch. The blood-soaked tile at the opening had been cleaned, the grouting showing only a slight change in color to indicate it had ever been anything but gray. Inside, voices floated around the large room, echoing in Courtney's ear. By the time she reached the threshold, the memories had given way to reality.

Looking over her shoulder, she found Clint still sitting in the truck, watching her with a serious expression. He looked ready to jump out and rush to her rescue, but it faded when she smiled. Lifting her hand, she waved, drawing an answering smile from him as he put the truck in gear and drove away.

Now that she'd made it into the building, she felt a little silly for taking so long to come back to work. Turning toward the break room, she jumped when her phone rang. Pulling it out, she smiled when she saw the text from Clint. Call me if you need anything.

I will. Her response lacked the warmth her voice would have, but his concern was beyond touching. She could hear him speaking in that rough tenor, hoarse from sleep as he smoothed her hair back after a nightmare. Those nights spent on his couch had helped her in a way that she couldn't put into words, and just having him in Amarillo meant she wasn't completely alone.

The break room was another hurdle to get over, though of a different nature. The moment she walked in, the other account managers surrounded her, welcoming her with hugs and questions about her trip to New York. Laney, one of the tellers, grinned at her. "So, how's that Avenger of yours?" When Courtney stared, she shrugged. "What? You're glowing. And your picture was all over the news as Hawkeye's date to the memorial. I figured something happened while you were in New York."

"Not what you think." Courtney dropped into a chair. "Yes, I went to the memorial with him. I stayed in Stark Tower, and I spent most of my time with the Avengers. And they're real people. Not celebrities. They all have their jobs."

"Whatever," Laney said with a roll of her eyes. "I wouldn't mind havin' one of them come my way. That Steve Rogers. . . ." She mimed fanning herself.

Courtney resisted the urge to roll her eyes in response. "Captain Rogers is just a normal guy, and he's taken."

"He is?"

"Yep."

"By who?"

Courtney glanced at her watch, purposefully ignoring Laney. "Time for work."

The day passed like any other Monday after that. News of Stark's engagement to Pepper hit around noon, and Courtney smiled quietly as she thought about the upcoming wedding. Stark and Pepper wouldn't wait forever, and she hoped to have that very legitimate excuse to head back to New York before the summer's end. Thankfully, the news sidetracked Laney from quizzing Courtney about every detail of her trip—and Clint—and she breathed a sigh of relief when five-thirty finally came. Walking out of the bank, she immediately spotted Clint's truck and headed that way.

He grinned at her from the driver's seat. "Good day?"

"Okay day." She buckled her seat belt. "If I ever complain about Pepper or Natasha being dramatic, remind me of Laney."

Clint burst into laughter. "Natasha? Dramatic? Only when she's undercover."

"Good!"

After pulling into traffic, Clint reached over and took her hand. Courtney smiled at him and stayed quiet for the trip back to her apartment. Once there, Clint waited while she changed into more comfortable clothes, and then he tucked her back into his truck for dinner and the visit to her sister's. Dinner was at Hausler's, his favorite place in Amarillo, and Courtney warned him that her sister might go a little overboard when she figured out the two of them were actually dating.

At the Staterson house, Clint parked his truck next on the street, and Courtney had barely made it onto the curb before the screen door slammed open. Jeremiah dashed outside, his face lit up. "Hawkeye!" he yelled as he ran.

Courtney stood next to the truck as Clint greeted her nephew, feeling a little bit of Tony Stark's sassiness coming on. "What am I? Invisible?"

Jeremiah hurried to her side. "No." He hugged her tightly. "I missed you, Aunt Courtney."

With those five words, Courtney's heart melted. As she met Clint's eyes over her nephew's head, she could honestly say she was glad to be home.

oOo

Clint saw the change in Courtney the moment she laid eyes on her nephew. The tension she'd been carrying slipped from her shoulders, and she finally relaxed into the embrace. At the house, Josiah appeared, trying to be a bit more grown up in how he greeted Clint but hugging his aunt just the same. The smile Courtney sent his way told him he'd done the right thing in bringing her tonight.

Dana, Courtney's sister, stood in the doorway, watching the reunion. She also hugged Courtney and then smiled at Clint. "Thanks for helping," she said quietly as Jeremiah and Josiah started chattering and distracted Courtney.

Clint shrugged. "No problem."

And, just like that, he was absorbed into the family. Dana insisted on getting him a glass of tea, and Clint found himself perched on the edge of the couch talking with Cole, Courtney's brother-in-law, while Courtney watched her nephews play video games. He'd met all of them before, but things were different now. He was different. He wasn't just visiting a friend's house for a few minutes but spending time with his girlfriend's family. That put a whole new spin on how he viewed Dana and Cole.

Before he could figure it out, Jeremiah appeared at his side and grinned. "So, can I?"

Clint blinked. He had absolutely no idea what the boy meant. Then, behind her nephew, Courtney mouthed the words "Uncle Clint," and he remembered the letter he'd received the day of the memorial. The one he'd never responded to. He propped one hand on his knee. "I guess that's up to your parents."

Jeremiah's hopeful eyes turned to his father. "Dad? Can I call him Uncle Clint?"

Cole sighed heavily as if it was a great stress to think about it, drawing a laugh from his son. "I guess so," he said, putting emphasis on the second word.

Jeremiah whooped and then grabbed Clint's arm. "Come play with us."

Clint glanced over at the game and shook his head. "Oh, no." He tugged his arm out of Jeremiah's grip. "You do want to win, right?"

Courtney put her hands on her nephew's shoulder. "Clint's really good with guns," she explained as she led her nephew back to the target practice game.

Clint supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that the family had no problem with the idea of guns. They did live in Texas, after all. And the game the boys were playing was a circus-type things with moving targets and clay birds. Not a first-person shooter. But it still did funny things to him to see children that young starting to use weapons. For much of his life, he'd wished he could have ended several things in his childhood, but this. . . .These were Courtney's nephews. They had good lives and a great family who cared for them. Why did they need to learn to use guns?

They didn't stay too late since school hadn't let out for the summer yet, and Clint was quiet as he drove Courtney back to her place. She was tired. He could see the exhaustion edging her eyes and, not for the first time, wished he could do something about it. At her apartment, he walked her to the door and then smiled. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will." She gave him a smile that melted his insides, though he didn't tell her. "Same for you."

He leaned in and kissed her, long and slow. Her hand came up to rest on his chest, and he couldn't stop the smirk when he saw the blissful expression on her face as he pulled back. Instead of commenting, he let her go into the apartment and shut the door.

Clint spent his second evening in Amarillo with Marcy and her family. He didn't begrudge Courtney her friends, but he started to feel a little crowded when Marcy insisted he come to dinner with Courtney. The evening passed relatively well, the only hiccup being when Marcy plopped little Brianna in Courtney's arms. The baby was only a couple months old, aware of her surroundings but very much an infant. And seeing Courtney cuddling her Goddaughter and smiling did something to Clint.

That night, as he drove back to his hotel, he allowed his expression to shut down as he tried to think clearly. What was he doing? Yes, he loved Courtney, and her family was awesome. But she wasn't SHIELD or any kind of law enforcement. She would eventually want to get married, have children, and live in a nice house. He couldn't offer her that and had tried to tell her many times. She'd simply accepted his words and moved on.

But what happened when he started wanting those things? Seeing her with Brianna had started his mind down a path that he'd avoided up until now. This thing with Courtney had begun as a half-considered idea of friendship, but it had morphed into so much more. He had never dreamed a woman like her could ever come to care for him, look past his history, or see him as more than a murderer. But she had. Even more than that, her family had accepted him, and her friends looked on him as a hero. He'd never wanted to be a hero. Just a good man.

These thoughts kept his mind busy for most of the night and into the next day while he and Natasha finished up their planning for their mission. Doing things long-distance like this wasn't the most efficient way of planning an op, but this wouldn't be the last time it happened. It was the nature of their lives. Clint managed to focus for most of it, drawing only minor glances from Natasha rather than outright questions.

That evening, Courtney followed him to the rental place to turn in the truck and then drove him to the small airfield SHIELD had co-opted for their use. A Quinjet waited for him, the back hatch down and Natasha likely on board. Clint climbed from Courtney's car, seeing the expression on her face. This was it. This was where their lives went back to being on opposite sides of the nation when both of them really wanted something else. He walked around the back of her car where she'd opened the trunk so he could grab his bags.

Courtney smiled up at him as he pulled her into his arms. "Be safe," she said softly.

"You too." Hidden from view by the open trunk, he kissed her, taking his time to do it correctly. "I'll call you when I'm back."

She smiled. "You'd better." Then, her smile faded. She wanted to add another admonition to stay safe, and he could see it in her eyes. Instead, she stepped out of his arms and handed one of his bags to him—his bag that held his bow. Clint sent her a thankful smile, and, after closing the trunk of the car, walked to the Quinjet. Natasha sat inside in the copilot's seat, the SHIELD agent assigned to fly her out to Texas already gone thanks to Stark's jet still waiting in a nearby hangar. Clint slipped into the pilot's chair, did his preflight checks, and then smoothly lifted the Quinjet into the air. He turned the plane slightly and saw that Courtney watched, her hand lifted in a wave as the residual wind from the jet caused her hair to fly around her face. She had never looked more beautiful.

Natasha waited until they'd left Amarillo's airspace behind to speak. "So, things went well."

Clint smirked at his partner, hearing the not-so-subtle dig for what it was: a friend's concern. "Yeah." His smirk faded to a frown.

Natasha caught it. "What?" When he blinked at her, she rolled her eyes. "You're staring at the instruments as if they're going to jump up and attack you. What's going on?"

Clint debated even bringing up the subject that had, until now, plagued his mind. He had so many issues in his own past, and the most recent one was a real doozy. But he'd somehow managed to pick himself up and recover from Loki, just like he'd recovered from his parents' deaths and the orphanage and the chaos at the circus. If things went south with Courtney, he didn't know if he could pick himself up from that. "What are we doing, Nat?" he asked quietly. When she raised an eyebrow at him, he continued, "You and Steve. Me and Courtney. Honestly. What are we thinking?"

Natasha grinned. "That's easy. We're not."

He glared at her. "You're always thinking. How many times have you turned down other agents because of things the Red Room did? Or because of the job? It's a fact of life for people like us. We don't get happily ever after."

She studied him, her eyes dropping to where his hands gripped the controls of the jet with surprising strength. "What's this about, Clint?"

He saw how she looked at his hands and deliberately loosened his grip. "Last night, Courtney's best friend invited us over for dinner. And I. . . ." He swallowed harshly. The memory of Courtney laughing as Brianna played with her hair was a powerful one, though not because it was her Goddaughter. In that moment, he'd realized he wanted everything with Courtney. The house, the family, the American dream.

"Clint?" Natasha's quiet voice told him he hadn't continued explaining.

He shook his head. "I don't know," he said with a touch of frustration in his voice. "I just wonder if this is such a great thing I've got going here. Or if I should. . . ."

"Walk away?" Natasha eyed him. "You do that, and you'll destroy her world."

"I stay, and I might do that anyway."

"But you'll never know if you run."

"I don't run, Nat."

"You would be this time." She shifted in her chair. "Clint, think this through. Up until now, you've been alone. Yeah, you had me and Coulson, but we're not the same. Courtney's a reason to come home. A reason to keep fighting. You've made more progress since January than you did in the previous eight months. Why?" When he didn't answer, she sighed. "If you give that up, you're an idiot."

Clint slanted a glance toward her. "What about you and Steve?"

"What about us?"

"Nat." The warning in his voice clearly told her not to be coy.

"Steve and I are dating. Nothing more. Nothing less. Do I want more with him? At times. But he's from another time, and I have so many issues to work through. I can't just jump into a steady relationship with him, and he accepts that." She met his eyes. "Just like Courtney accepts that your job is dangerous and you might not come home one day. Does she like it? No. Does that mean she'll walk away? If she was going to, she would have the day I showed her Arriola's file."

The two stayed silent the rest of their flight into Siberia. They'd been sent to look into a suspected HYDRA base, and Clint found himself inordinately happy that it turned out to be some sort of home-grown terrorist organization intent on taking Russia down. At least he didn't have to deal with one of the world's biggest threats with his mind so taken up with Courtney and their relationship. Once he arrived back to New York, he picked up his phone and immediately called her, the tension fading the longer they talked. And, when he hung up, he realized something.

He stood in his kitchen, looking at the apartment Stark had assigned specifically for him, and suddenly understood that, without Courtney, he wasn't at home.

~TBC