"I'll keep that in mind for later. For now, I need all relevant observations and mission details."

He briefly considered reaching over to up his pain medication intake and knock himself out but he wanted to get it over with.

"I was able to get six bugs in the base; three in the command center and one in an officer's meeting room..."

Clint consented to remaining in the medical ward for an additional week. It was horrendously boring. Phil dropped by a couple of times but he could never stay long.

He never wondered why Natasha didn't visit.

He was very surprised that Director Fury hadn't come by and demanded an official debrief. The man wasn't exactly known for his patience. He suspected that Coulson had something to do with it.

But Clint was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So he took his time in medical without complaints.

Boring, yes. Easy, no.

In his own best interest he followed the doctor's orders exactly. Usually he'd test his limits but it had shaken him up more than a little to hear that he'd been unconscious for over two weeks. After two days he was allowed to get up and move around, and by the fourth day he was already beginning some light physical therapy. Mostly stretching and it was always under observation, but he'd take what he could get.

As he sat on his bed for his last full day of care he realized what had been bugging him about the timing. He'd been in Austria for about six weeks, and now with these four-odd weeks gone as well, it meant that Natasha had around two weeks left on her probation as set by the Council.

Coulson walked back to his room with him after he was released and filled him in on what he'd missed.

"Johnson took over most of the missions we would have assigned you. He's been doing well."

Clint rolled his eyes, "It helped, I'm sure, that Director Fury practically forced me to train the kid for a month before he went out into the field."

"It certainly didn't hurt. Luckily we were spared from Agent Johnson developing any of your more colorful personality traits."

"Luckily," he paused then plowed on. "So Romanoff's almost done her probation period."

"I hadn't noticed," Coulson said.

"Where's she at in training?" he was genuinely curious.

"She made one of the new recruits cry at her first day in interrogation tactics. She broke an agent's collarbone in hand-to-hand practice. No one has been able to verify that she's been sneaking out of her room practically every night to explore the Helicarrier. And someone tried to access secure files in the mainframe about two weeks after she joined us," Coulson glared at him like it was his fault.

Clint just grinned, "I told you she'd been a good asset."

"Due to all of that, I had to personally construct a training regiment that would keep her occupied and satisfy the Council."

"How'd that go?" he wished he could have seen that.

"It has been adequate. She still has too much free time but she hasn't caused irreparable damage and doesn't appear to be using her time to bring us down from the inside. No attempts to contact anyone outside the ship have been made and other than the one try at the files she's steered clear of actively searching for information." Despite his tone, Coulson didn't seem impressed or pleased.

Clint knew better. "So you have faith that she'll make it to the end of her time no problem."

There was the briefest flicker of hesitation across Phil's face, "'Faith' might not be the best word."

He doesn't get more than that because they were approaching his door and Coulson went back to the important part of their discussion. "Director Fury is expecting you in one hour in his office for the debriefing."

"I'm assuming the Council will be there?" he asked sourly.

"Yes. But so will I."

Clint focused on that positive and went back to his room. Coulson watched him walk in and Clint gave him a small wave to indicate that he was fine before he closed the door. He waited for a couple of minutes and then left again, convinced that Coulson was gone and he could wander in peace.

It helped clear his mind as he walked around the Helicarrier, nodding to fellow agents and occasionally returning a greeting. He avoided the bridge and most of the areas where the Director was most likely to be.

Out of habit he found himself walking toward the training area; from the sounds of it there was a session in progress.

All of the recruits had to go through basic training that spanned over every possible job at SHILED. Every person in SHIELD's employment knew the core of what was considered important. It was an odd mix but it provided a solid grounding for each person to work up from.

There was always a chance that an analyst would need to know how to conduct an interrogation, or for a technician to have to fight for his life. SHIELD didn't take chances.

It also helped determine a recruit's strong points. Although almost every recruit was brought in with a specific position in mind, sometimes skills were discovered that made another opportunity possible. He hadn't learned of his aptitude for languages until he'd been drilled during training. Once initial training was over, every career path had its own specialized training to be completed as well, but it was usually an on-the-job kind of training.

So as he observed the recruits, he was not surprised to see various levels of competence, skill, and nervousness. Some of them eyed the mat eagerly, others looked at their classmates nervously.

And off to the side, Natasha stood completely at ease.

Her eyes had immediately fixed on him when he entered and quickly looked away once she'd realized it was him.

He moved closer to the area quietly, deciding to use his time before his debrief to watch a couple of the spars.

"Agent Barton."

"Agent Hill." He turned to acknowledge the woman. She usually oversaw the recruits for several of their classes although she usually didn't cover sparring. "Is Agent Smith on assignment?"

She ignored him, "Here to watch? Or would you like to demonstrate?"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Natasha shift closer, seemingly interested in the second option.

He smirked, "Just here to watch. Agent Coulson would chain me to my bed if I went on the mat the same day I was released from medical."

Hill didn't seem bothered by his presence or by the fact that he'd been injured and was now up. She called two names and he moved to stand at her side and watch as they fought.

Their eyes never left the two moving figures as he asked, "So did Coulson send her here or did she just come to watch as well?"

"Both. She was with this group until about two weeks ago. She's running out of willing sparring partners. She's already burned through the first and second year agents," Hill seemed amused. "How'd you manage to convince her to come in?"

He wasn't surprised that she knew. Hill was on the command track, would probably be promoted soon. She'd started out as an analyst but an incident at the facility she'd been stationed at made it obvious that she was being wasted behind a computer and she'd been pushed to become a field agent.

Her intelligence and clear head made her very successful and she made the jump from agent to handler with few problems. Currently she was being groomed to fill the Deputy Director's position and become Fury's right hand.

Phil had been considered as well but everyone knew that he wasn't really interested in the position. He worked with Hill a lot and as a result, Clint had gotten to know her pretty well.

Clint snorted, "I feel like I hardly did anything. She was in a bad spot and I gave her a way out. The decision was hers."

Hill turned to look at him but her raised eyebrow and glare made it clear that she didn't believe him. She turned to look at the recruits again and Clint looked over to Natasha.

She was watching him carefully, unabashed at being caught. He cocked his head to the side but she didn't rise to the bait.

Instead of acknowledging his attempt to move to a quieter place to talk, she turned back to watch the spar.

Clint wasn't worried. They'd talk eventually. He left with ten minutes before his meeting, knowing it was probably in his best interest to be early. Nodding to Hill, he left the training room.

The halls were quiet and he made it to the Director's office in only four minutes. He knocked and waited to be called for.

It was two minutes before Fury barked out, "Come in Barton."

Fury was at his desk, the monitors behind showed static and he knew the Council would make contact soon. Coulson was off to the side and gave him a small nod.

Neither of them spoke. The Director moved to stand off to Clint's right, still in sight of the monitors but not in their direct viewpoint. Clint realized that he'd be on his own for at least the beginning of this.

They stood in silence until the screens abruptly changed and the four Council members were staring down at him. He let them speak first.

"Agent Barton," it was the man who'd assigned him the damned mission. "You were supposed to be keeping an eye on HYDRA's movements, is that correct?"

"Yes sir," he made sure to keep his voice even and his face calm.

"This mission was to be, and I quote, 'strictly observatory,' in nature, was it not?"

"Yes sir."

"Then how is it that you managed not only to compromise yourself but the safe house and any potential chance for further surveillance in the area?"

"I deemed the recovery of intelligence vital to the security of the country more important than my own safety or that of your house, sir. I apologize if I was incorrect in my calculation." He was proud that his voice had remained steady.

"You killed the Deputy Secretary of State," another man spoke up. This was starting to be less of a debriefing and more of an interrogation.

"I killed a HYDRA mole and undercover agent who had been in place, undetected, for years and was in a position to deliver intelligence which would have compromised the safety of the country," he had to remain firm on this point.

"You deliberately chose to disobey orders in the field," his friend was back.

"I would have called for backup and continued my mission while allowing another team to carry out the extraction except that as part of this mission I was denied the chance to have any other communication."

He was starting to get angry as he understood that this wasn't about understanding where the mission had gone wrong or why he'd had to act the way he did. The mission itself had been punitive; meant to cut him off from SHILED and Natasha and put him on babysitting duty for a highly dangerous group.

They'd hoped to be clear of him for at least two more months.

And since that hadn't panned out, they were looking for another reason to punish him.

The third man spoke up, "Your reasons were good, agent. But that doesn't change the truth. In fact, it is only because of the relative success of the actions you took outside of orders that you have not been removed of your status."

That struck him hard. He resisted the urge to turn to look at Coulson, wondering if his handler had known about that little tidbit.

He smiled at them grimly, "Well I certainly appreciate that."

The woman finally spoke up, "Despite the rogue actions, your achievement on the mission is to be commended. As I understand it, there is over a month's worth of recordings from several locations within the HYDRA command center."

"Yes, ma'am," he was grateful to her and he saw one of the men nodding in agreement with her sentiment.

The man glared at his colleagues and then turned his gaze back on Clint, "Regardless, the Council has decided to place you on suspension, Agent Barton, for your failure to follow orders, endangering the mission, and damaging the possibility of future observatory missions," the man was back and Clint felt the full weight of his glare.

He had to clench his hands behind his back to avoid giving him a rude hand gesture, so he settled for a tight-lipped smile.

Director Fury finally made himself know, "Council, as I understand it, your primary purpose is to oversee the direction that this organization takes and function as an oversight committee if necessary. Is that correct?"

Clint almost laughed at the man's wording. He was throwing their questions right back at them.

One of the men answered, "More or less, you are correct."

Fury sneered, "Then as this was a SHIELD mission, carried out by an agent of SHIELD, that would make this mission my problem. There was some confusion, I'm sure, over who was in charge since the Council assigned the mission to Agent Barton. But unless his offenses were so grievous as to threaten the existence of SHIELD or compromise the agent's contract with SHIELD, it really doesn't concern the Council how an agent is reprimanded."

The Council was silent although the man and Fury were currently locked in a glaring match. The simple off-putting fact that Fury had only one eye to level at the man, and that veins were starting to form in his forehead and around his damaged eye, ensured that the Councilman was the first to back off.

Finally one of the other men spoke, "You are correct, Director."

"Super," Fury deadpanned. Clint had to pinch his arm to keep from smiling at the man's tone. "Then let's just end this conversation while we're ahead."

The man stepped up to his desk and clicked a button. The screens went dead.

Clint finally let out the snort of amusement that he'd been hiding, and by Fury's silence he could tell the man was pleased. Fury was far too fond of reprimanding him to let that slide unless he agreed with Clint's assessment.

"Now that that's done," the eyepatch turned to him. "You are to be commended, Agent Barton, on completing the mission as well as you did. Your sacrifice went above and beyond and despite what the Council has indicated, we are extremely grateful for you for recovering the intelligence stolen by the mole and for taking him out."

Clint nodded, secretly very pleased with the commendation. Fury wasn't one to give praise where it was not due, so he cherished the moment while it lasted.

"You are being placed on temporary medical leave pending your physical reevaluations, to be conducted by Agent Coulson in one week."

He nodded again, very familiar with the reevaluation exams and what he'd have to do in the next week to get to the point where he could pass them easily. It was surprising that he had set the tests for only a week away. Clint had just been released today.

"When you pass them, I have an assignment for you. Until then, rest, recover, and don't get hurt training." Fury allowed a small smirk to grace his face and Clint returned it, pleased at the man's confidence in him.

Knowing the dismissal, he gave a mocking salute to the Director and left, Coulson right behind him.

"Do you know anything about the assignment Director Fury has lined up for me?" he asked as they walked through the halls.

Coulson smiled that irritating little smile, "Of course."

"You gonna tell me?"

"No."

"Of course," he wasn't surprised. "Want to help me train? I could use a sparring partner."

"Maybe at the end of the week. You've been out of action for just under a month. It wouldn't be fair."

"I'm not that out of practice that it would be so unfair," he protested.

"It would be unfair to me. Think of all the bad habits I'd pick up because I didn't have to work to beat you."

Clint glared but Coulson hardly twitched.

"Maybe ask Miss Romanoff. She will be done with her probation status in two weeks," Phil offered blandly.

The proverbial light bulb went off, "That's why Director Fury is rushing my reevaluations, isn't it? The assignment has something to do with Romanoff."

Coulson didn't answer but Clint could read his silence well enough to deduce the affirmative. Phil turned down another hall, abruptly moving away from Clint and back to his office.

"Interesting," he mused before yelling down the hall after Coulson. "Will you tell me now?"

"No."

He shrugged and went back in search of the training rooms. Starting small meant working his way up. Target practice was always nice and relaxing.

Working up to some interesting moments again. I think it will only be a couple more chapters until the end. I'm hoping to post the first chapter Natasha's pov (as its own story) in the next couple of days.

Always

Sinkme