You'd been gone for nearly two weeks, a whole week longer than you had planned to be, the job having taken an unexpected and ugly turn. You were tired. Correction, you were completely depleted. Emotionally, physically, hell even spiritually. As a private detective, you were used to jobs going pear-shaped from time to time.

But this one had been a missing person's case that had ended horribly. The same people who had hired you to find their daughter had been the same people who were the reason she had gone missing in the first place. This wasn't the first time you'd had a case where you discovered something like murder. But this was the first time your own instincts hadn't given you even the slightest hint who the culprit was.

So, you dragged yourself into your place at 2:30 in the morning with your only thought being to take the hottest shower you could before burying yourself in your bed for at least the next 24 hours. Lucky came padding towards you from the direction of the living room, so you took a short detour.

You found Clint passed out on the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes. Leaning over him you started to tug the throw that was on the back of the couch off to cover him with it.

With reflexes born of years of training, Clint jerked awake when your body brushed against his. His hand snagged your wrist as he rolled off the couch, knocking the breath out of you when he landed on top of you, pinning you bodily against the floor.

Clint blinked several times before he seemed to come to himself. He scrambled off you, holding his hands up and saying loudly, "Shit! Sorry!"

Judging by the volume of his voice you suspected he had taken his hearing aids out, which might explain why he had startled so badly. You tried to get your breath back as he inched back over to you, looking down at you with so much chagrin on his face that you laughed.

His forehead wrinkled as his eyes flicked over your face and then he said, "What?"

Shaking your head, you sat up and leaned back against the couch. Tapping your ears, you said, "I didn't know you had taken your hearing aids out. I didn't mean to startle you so badly."

Eyes watching your lips as you spoke, he jerked his head and then shuffled over to the end table, snatching the devices up and putting them back in. He sat, mirroring your position with his back pressed into the couch, your shoulders touching and said in a more normal tone, "I wasn't expecting you home until tomorrow."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't stand one more night in a hotel so I changed my flight."

Clint angled towards you, his grey-blue eyes narrowed as he studied your face. Carefully he said, "It was bad wasn't it?"

With a sharp shake of your head you said, "I can't talk about it now."

Compassion filled his eyes, and seeing it you dropped your eyes to your lap. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, squeezing gently as he said, "I get it, babe. You know I'm here if or when you wanna talk."

You rested your head against his shoulder, sighing a little as you did. Lucky came padding over and wormed his way into your lap. You laughed and pushed at him, "Buddy, you are so not a lapdog."

Clint's hand came down and scratched the dog behind the ear, "He knows you need all the snuggles right now. Which means he is totally gonna abandon my bed for your bed."

"Speaking of bed, I need that after I shower for like an hour. I'll see you after I surface tomorrow."

Clint stood up, holding a hand out to you to help you to your feet before he said, "So, what you are saying is that if I bug you before you wake up tomorrow on your own, you'll hurt me?"

Snorting, you slapped a hand against his chest, "You know Clint, you might just be a master at reading between the lines."

His tongue clicked as he winked, "Oh, you know, that's all me cupcake."

"Goodnight birdy." You sent him a wave as you disappeared up the stairs and to your room. Clint glanced down at the dog, who was looking quizzically at him and when he nodded towards the stairs the dog turned and jogged up after you.

With a critical eye, you gave yourself one last once over in the mirror. You couldn't believe you were planning on going out on a date. On Valentine's Day of all days. This wasn't like you, but you had started to think if you didn't find a way to distract yourself from the fact that there was an odd growing attraction in you over Clint…well, you might end up saying or doing something that would destroy the friendship you'd had for years. And the fact was you didn't think you could stand not having Clint as a friend.

So, you weren't even going to think about entertaining any kind of idea of more with him. Even if he kept popping up randomly in your dreams and thoughts in ways he absolutely shouldn't be. Objectively, you've always known he was attractive, not just because of his looks but because of the whole of him. But you'd never been attracted to him before.

Shaking your head, realizing you'd zoned out as you stared at your reflection, you slip into your heels and snatch up the purse you'll be using tonight. Since you poured yourself into a little black dress, stuffing your stuff into pockets wasn't a good option. At the bottom of the stairs to the first floor, Lucky comes rushing over to you and in an attempt to ward off him jumping up and getting hair all over your dress, you stumble.

Clint's arm is around you in a flash, catching you and steadying you on your feet as he says, "Woah, easy there."

Settling you back upright, he took a step back to get a full look at you, "Wait. Are you going out on a date?"

"Yeah. So what?" Your tone was a little too defensive sounding to your ear but he just grinned at you and shook his head.

"Nothing. Just a little surprised you've apparently abandoned your 'no dates on Valentine's Day' rule you've had since before I even met you."

You gasp a little, "I do not have a rule like that."

Clint snorted, 'Sure you do, cupcake. Must be some amazing guy to make you abandon your number one dating rule."

"Pft, number one rule my ass." But as you looked at him, you were hit with a sudden flicker of guilt.

"You want me to bring you anything back?"

Clint shook his head, patting your arm as he said, "Nah, Lucky and I will make it a bros night. Go have fun."

When you reached the door he called out, "And for goodness sake, make sure you use a condom!"

Your finger spearing up was your only response.

"Why you in my place looking like that?" Chance's voice cut into your thoughts almost immediately as you sat down on a stool at his bar.

You just released a low groan of displeasure. Your date had been absolutely the worst. Besides the fact that he had only talked about himself, he had tried to order for you, made a snotty comment about your choice of drink with dinner, and by the end was convinced you'd be going home with him.

Chance eyed you for a moment before he pulled out a glass and poured you a generous shot of vodka, "Here, wash that douche outta your mouth yeah?"

Snorting, you down the alcohol and set the glass back on the bar, Chance immediately refilled it before he leans on his elbows and asks, "How's our favorite bird doing?"

Sipping the second drink more slowly, you shrug, "He doesn't complain. But I know it's really hard for him. He's been spending a lot of time in his nest."

"What the fuck is his nest?"

You laughed as you finished your drink and nodded for another, "He perches up on the roof parapets, looks down on the city below. I call it his nest."

He seemed to chew on that for a moment before he said, "Sounds like a gargoyle to me,"

Your nose scrunched, "Nah, he's too cute to be a gargoyle."

"Gargoyles can definitely be cute, just look at me." Chance said with a wide grin and a wink before he moved to deal with another customer.

You spent nearly two hours talking with Chance, his other bartender and a few of the regulars that were friendly enough to be worth the conversation. Finally ready to head home, you squared away your tab and stood. Your hand darted out as you swayed slightly.

"Alright, that's it cupcake, I'm taking you home." Chance said as he eyed you.

"Tch, don't be ridiculous, you have a bar to run," you try waving him away, but he's already signaling the other bartender and grabbing his coat.

"The bar will be fine until I get back, Kelly has it." Chance hands you your coat, then rolls his eyes when you try and look stern at him. "I can get myself home just fine…."

"Cupcake, you're nearly three sheets to the wind and I'm not letting you take public transpo home or even a taxi and end up hearing about how you were attacked or something."

When you open your mouth to argue some more he points a finger at your nose, "Deal with it. Now, will you walk out on your feet or am I cavemaning it?"

You fight the twitching in your lips as you say, "God, Chance, who knew you were so bossy ."

Chance sucked on his teeth as he followed you out of the bar, "You should have known that by now."

You looked up at the knock on your office door, wincing a little at the sudden motion made your head throb. The hangover from the night before was still stubbornly clinging to you. Which was making it difficult for you to focus on the research you needed to be doing on your newest case.

Clint pushed opened the door when you called out and leaned against the frame, his eyes looking you over before he said, "Girl, you look like shit."

Rolling your eyes, and wincing with the stab of pain, you turned back to your computer, "Geez, thanks so much Clint. With that kind of compliment you can fuck right off."

Hands in his pockets he wandered into the room, leaning over your chair to take a look at your screens as he said, "You know for someone who got laid last night, you sure seem entirely too cranky. Wasn't it any good?"

"I didn't get laid."

When you look up into his face, you catch something there but before you have a chance to figure out what it was his face was blank and he said, "Really? Because I ran into Chance on the way out of the place last night."

"Chance?" For a moment your mind went blank as you thought back to the night before and then you remembered and shook your head, "Oh. Yeah, no. I ended up at his bar last night and drank a little too much. He insisted on bringing me home."

"And that included bringing you all the way to your room?"

You turned towards him in your chair, eyes narrowing on his face, which was still carefully blank. For a moment you wondered if he was jealous. But that was silly and you knew you had to be reading into it the wrong way. But still….

"Why does it matter?"

Clint's grin was sudden and he shrugged, "Doesn't. Just curious. I came in here to tell you I ordered pizza."

You brightened, "Yay. I'm gonna shower first though. I feel grimey even though I've literally done nothing but sit behind this damn computer."

With a nod he backed out of the room, "Should be here by the time you're done."

Showered, feeling a little more human, you headed down to eat. Clint was just taking the pizza from the building staffer who had brought it up as you hit the bottom of the stairs. You smiled a little as you caught the tail end of the interaction, at the way Clint engaged with the young man.

In the kitchen, you reached up to pull down plates as you heard him come in with the pizzas. When you turned around you ran squarely into his chest, not realizing he was right behind you. He reached out automatically to steady you with that smirk on his face.

"And you say I'm the clumsy one."

Ignoring the way your heart had tripped when his hands had gripped your arms, you pushed a plate into his chest and said, "Clint, you are the clumsy one."

He just made a humming noise as he flipped the top on the pizza box. He'd ordered your favorite kind. Since it was pizza, and since he insisted that you not work the rest of the night, you took your pizza into the living room and settled on the couch to watch Netflix. Lucky hopped up and spent the whole time you ate, begging scraps from the both of you. He loved pizza almost as much as you did.

At some point, you ended up falling asleep only waking up when you felt yourself being jostled. Realizing you'd ended up falling asleep against Clint's side, you sat up suddenly.

"Sorry, I was trying not to wake you," Clint mumbled when you met his eyes.

"It's fine. Didn't mean to drool all over your side," you respond with a huge yawn.

Clint's nose wrinkled, "You weren't drooling. I would have shoved you off the couch if that had happened."

"Geez, rude. Good to know that you would treat me so roughly."

He drew a circle over his chest, "Look, I have standards okay. And I am a drool free zone."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Real friends like friends drool on them."

As he opened his mouth to respond, his phone went off with a series of random beeps and his eyes widened some as he pulled it out of his pocket. It went silent for several minutes before the beeps repeated themselves. Your eyebrows raised when he met your eyes and he lifted a shoulder and asked, "You don't mind if we have a visitor do you?"

"Who?"

Clint held up his phone as it went off again, "Natasha. That's her signal saying she's coming."

"How is she going to come here? She's an international fugitive."

He snorted, "Please, it's Tasha."

With a hum you realized just how silly of a question that was, "Right. Forgot she's a super spy like you."

You headed into the kitchen to put on coffee as Clint called out after you, "I keep telling you, I wasn't a super spy, I was a secret government agent."

"Potato tomato Clint. Potato tomato," You tossed over your shoulder with a laugh.