Author's Note: In answer to a reviewer's question – yes, I'm getting this caught up with AO3. Due to holiday craziness and gifts I have to finish with first, I've been delayed on getting the next chapter up on AO3. My goal is to have them matching in size within the next day or so, and then update at the same time. Mostly it's a matter of converting the chapters.

Second Interlude

Clint's eyes snapped open. His breath shuddered out as if the nightmare was loath to release its victim. He repressed a shiver; his mind desperately pushed away the flames and screams. He glanced down as the figure next to him shifted closer as if in response to his fear. The heat of her body slowly leeched into him, melting the last remnants of the dark dream.

He still could not figure out what he had done to get this girl. He knew for damn sure he did not deserve her. He was too old, too possessive, and his hands were red with too much blood. If he had any kind of decency, he would break it off and get her sent away.

Like hell.

His entire being clutched in terror at the thought of losing her. Something in her, her light, her laughter, called to him, filling those cracks running through his soul. No one, not even Tasha, had ever touched him like she did. She did not care where he came from, or what his job sometimes required him to do. She was worried about him, Clint – not Barton, not Hawkeye, not the Agent, but Clint.

Not that she would leave anyway…and Tasha might string him up if he tried.

Beyond his wildest hopes, the two women closest to him actually liked each other. Good thing, too. Tasha would have to help him, because if he could not let Darcy go, he would do the next best thing – he would keep her safe. Clint began running his fingers gently through her hair. She shifted, stretching a little like a cat before curling into his side without ever waking.

She trusted him.

Despite everything that happened, despite his soldier's life and assassin's past, she accepted him.

Clint could barely take it in. This sarcastic, nurturing, half-naïve, half-crazy young woman accepted and trusted him where hardened men and women who had known him for years shied away. Even before the whole debacle with Loki, he and Tasha had been feared, watched like half-wild savages who might snap at any time. He could count on one hand the number of people who could actually work with him without concern – Tasha of course, Fury, Hill. Coulson had been another, but…his mind pulled away, not wanting to think about his lost handler. Fury and Hill held themselves apart, mostly due to the rank issue, but he also knew his attitude sometimes made them crazy. That left him with Tasha…and now Darcy.

He knew Tasha had his back without question. Tasha was his partner, best friend – a safety net. They worked together like a seamless machine. If it were physically possible, he would think they were twins separated at birth, so closely did their minds mesh. Reports noted their uncanny ability to read each other, to know how the other would act in the field. Gossip, as prevalent in SHIELD as anywhere else, cast them as lovers. They did not bother to argue, preferring to laugh at the whole thing. They were too much alike – Tasha would probably have killed him by now. He had accepted the usual lot of an agent – a lot of one-night stands with no strings.

And then a smart-mouthed, gorgeous brunette blazed her way across his sights.

Within a few weeks of watching over the lab in New Mexico, he knew she had the potential to be dangerous for his equilibrium. She was spunky and caring. She would dance around the kitchen singing along to her iPod as she made breakfast. She was bright, cheerful, stubborn, and a mother hen. He went out of his way to avoid any direct contact in an attempt to keep some kind of professional distance.

He should have known that would not work. Agent Drakard's actions may have prompted their first meeting, but looking back, the meeting itself seemed inevitable. Darcy just drew people into her orbit. Her desire to take care of others; her almost desperate need for people around her to be happy – it was impossible not to get sucked in.

A smile tugged at his lips as he ran a hand lightly over her hair. Even Tasha fell under her spell. Hell, even Coulson…damn. Of all the deaths, that was the one which haunted him most. Darcy stirred as his hand went still.

Her nose wrinkled slightly, but she did not open her eyes. "Clint?" She asked in a drowsy voice.

"Way too early, sweetheart," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."

"M'kay," she nodded before moving to burrow her head into his shoulder. She put an arm over him. "You too."

He dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head. "Yeah, me too."

He might not deserve her, but he would be damned if he was stupid enough to let her go now.