Chap 4: Birds of a Feather
When Tony Stark did anything worthwhile doing, he did it with style. The Avengers sparring room was state of the art. There were different work stations for climbing, archery, a shooting range, weight training, and even a small kitchenette with a panini maker.
Clint headed over to the archery station, and snapped his bow into place. He withdrew an arrow from the quiver on his back, and was just about to get into position when he heard a grunt behind him. He turned and found Bobbi at the shooting range, struggling with a panel on the wall. He put the arrow back and walked over to her.
"Oh, hi, Agent Barton." Bobbi said, mashing her fist into a control panel. "This seems to be stuck."
"You got to put in the pass code." Clint said.
"Oh, I thought Tony was joking about that... it's really 69?"
"Yes," Clint said with a laugh.
She smiled and put the numbers in. There was a whirring sound, and the targets dropped down from the sky. Clint could take all of these out with a strategically placed arrow. But he waited as Bobbi punched in the code on the gun cabinet and withdrew a .45.
"That's got a kick," Clint told her.
"It was what we used in training."
"They do that to put you to the test. Try the .22. Light, speedy, holds more rounds."
Bobbi nodded and withdrew a .22. She grabbed a pair of ear muffs and handed a pair to Clint who slapped them on his head. Clint stood and watched as Bobbi emptied the clip. She wasn't bad with the gun, wasn't great either. Got two head shots. He nodded over to the archery station.
"I've only ever trained with a gun." Bobbi told him.
"I know. But you never know what will be available to you. You could get unarmed."
Bobbi reluctantly picked up the bow, and Clint moved her arms into place for the correct form. "You always want your arms out, away from your body. Head up, back straight." She smiled as he corrected her. He nodded to the targets. "Alright, dazzle me."
Bobbi took a deep breath, aimed, and missed every target. Frustrated, she grabbed the bow, and whacked at the targets.
Clint watched her with his arms folded, trying to suppress a laugh. He thought a moment, "How are you with hand to hand combat?"
"I excelled in that."
The girl wouldn't survive on hand to hand combat alone. For one, it did shit when someone was shooting at you, and two, you needed to get in close proximity of the intruder, and again, it did shit when someone was shooting at you. Clint eyed the barbells. Maybe, just maybe... "Hang on." He said. He walked to the barbells, took the weights off, and handed her the metal staff. "Dazzle me." He repeated.
And dazzle she did. She whipped that pole around her like it was an extension of her arm, crushing and chopping the targets in two. Clint leaned on his bow and observed her. She moved with grace and precision. If she kept this up, one day, she'd be deadly.
Clint walked back into the room to try and settle down for the night when he found Natasha still in bed. He chomped down on the panini he had made in the sparring room. She was awake, but she was staring at the ceiling. "I can see why you do this a lot." She said to him as he got into bed beside her. "The ceiling is vast and empty, and can hold all of your problems if you'd allow it to."
He nodded with a swallow. "I guess that's like all things." He reached over into his plate and handed her the second sandwich. "Brought you dinner."
She laughed, sat up and took the sandwich. "Least you could do. I am in your bed."
"This is the honeymoon suite now."
Neither knew how to respond to that, so they ate in silence.
She smiled at him. "Go to sleep. It's late."
"Good idea," He said as his eyes drifted closed.
Natasha reached out a hand and felt his smooth cropped hair. How peaceful he looked as he slept. Soon his restfulness caught up with her and she closed her eyes.
How long she had been sleeping, she couldn't say, but she was awakened by a shaking of the bed. She opened her eyes and found Clint convulsing in his sleep.
"No!" He shouted, "Run, get away from me!"
"Clint?" Natasha asked, reaching over and turning on the bedside lamp. "Clint!" She shook him gently, and his beautiful blue eyes opened, frantically searching the room before falling on her.
He breathed a sigh of relief, reached out and cupped her face, "Just a dream. It was just a dream." he whispered, before flopping his arms back on the bed.
"Are you alright?" She asked, her gray eyes full with concern.
He shook his head, "I have trouble sleeping sometimes. I keep thinking Loki has control. I'll wake up under his spell again. Sometimes I have horrible nightmares where..."
"Where what?" She whispered.
"Where I... where I kill you." He said, "It's so real, I can feel... I can feel the life leave your body..." he avoided her gaze, and a slight tremor went through his arms.
"Hey, shh, it's okay. It's alright, I'm here." She reached out and rubbed his hair back. She circled both of her arms around his, and brought it to her chest.
"But it's always the same place. Where we fought. I could have killed you, Nat. I could have killed everyone on board. I... I was just a pawn in Loki's games..."
Natasha thought back to that day. How strong he had been. Clint was a master sniper. He didn't miss. If it wasn't for her stealth, he would have gotten the drop on her, and that would have been that. What was worse, was the emptiness in his eyes as they fought, his beautiful blue had been clouded over with Loki juice. "That's over now." She said. "Loki's far away. Thor made sure of that."
"It doesn't change what I've done."
"It wasn't you." She reminded him in a whisper.
"You remember that day too, I know you do."
"It wasn't you, Clint."
"You said you had red in your ledger..."
"Listen to me." She said, "We've all done things in the past that we're not proud of. But Loki taking over... you have to let that go. Nothing you did under Loki was your fault. And you saved a lot of people in New York, and you saved me. You're a good man, Clint."
He pulled her close to him, and she cuddled up to his side. Before they knew it, they both had drifted back off to sleep.