Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any of the characters in the story except for Cole Williams. If I did, there would totally be a Hawkeye/Black Widow movie in the works.

Author's Note: This is my first story to post on this site and my husband had to talk me into it. That being said, while I embrace constructive criticism remember this old saying if you choose to leave a review "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all"

Thanks to all my readers! The action returns in this chapter! yay! Thanks to all who reviewed! It makes me happy and want to post faster to make my reviewers happy! :D

Enjoy!

Last Time:

"So what do we do?" Bruce asked.

"We wait." Steve surmised, glancing at Clint for conformation. The archer nodded.

"He wanted my attention, he's got it…soon he'll let me know what he wants."

"Great." Tony clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "I excel at waiting."

"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is brave for five minutes longer." Ralph Waldo Emerson

It took less than fourteen hours for everyone to start avoiding Tony. He'd gotten tired of waiting for something to happen after ten, and for eight of those he'd been sleeping. A bored Tony was even more annoying than regular Tony, Steve mused as he made his way to the gym. That was saying something too.

Steve on the other hand didn't mind the lack of action. He enjoyed it actually, after a lifetime filled with war. But that didn't mean he didn't get restless, which was why he was headed to the gym at one o'clock in the morning. He hadn't been expecting anyone to be there already, and instinctively he concealed himself as he peered into the large room.

Clint and Natasha. He should have known. The two of them trained like they expected to have to fight for their lives tomorrow. Though, he ruminated, in their experience it had probably been a likely possibility. As he watched them spar, though, he realized this wasn't one of their normal ruthless sparing matches. Normally, they didn't pull punches, they fought like it was kill or be killed because one day it would be.

He'd caught them, the day after Williams appeared in their lives, sparing with Clint blindfolded. He'd been horrified as Natasha landed hit after hit. To the archer's credit, he just kept getting up. Tony had very loudly asked them why the hell they were doing that. Clint, without removing the blindfold, had said simply. "Next time, I'll be ready." It had taken less than an hour for Clint to adjust to not having his sight, and then the fight had been something to behold.

Tonight, they seemed to be playing, dancing around each other in a taunting, playful fashion, bursting into random bouts of combat.

Steve was mesmerized by them. The moved in perfect synchronization, as if they were the same person just split into two. In a way, he guessed they were. They understood each other in a way none of the rest of the team ever would. If the looks they shared were anything to go by, they'd been through hell together, many times over. He'd never had someone that knew him that well. Bucky had come close, but even he had never really understood why Steve had chosen to be Captain America.

He smiled softly when the two assassins went to the ground in a tangle of limbs, both laughing. He didn't think he'd ever heard Clint laugh. They rolled to a stop with Natasha on her back and Clint stretched out half on top of her, half next to her. In a gesture expressing more tenderness than Steve ever could have thought the archer was capable of, the man reached up to brush Natasha's fiery hair out of her eyes. A warm smile Steve never would have every expected to show on the assassin's face, spread across Natasha's lips.

"Think you can sleep now?" Natasha's voice floated across the quiet gym to Steve's ears. Steve didn't hear Clint reply, but whatever was showing on the marksman's face spurred Romanoff to speak again, her hand moving to frame the archer's jaw. "You're not alone." She said it was such conviction that Steve felt a surge of emotion well in him, even though the words were not meant for him.

They just stared at each other for a moment longer before Clint nodded and pushed to his feet, pulling Natasha up after him. Steve hurried to hide himself in the equipment closet as they headed towards the door. As he watched their back's retreat down the hallway, he wondered why they never showed their obvious affection in front of the team. Never held hands, like they did now. Rarely spoke, instead relying on looks and expressions to communicate. He wondered why they thought they had to hide it how deeply in love they obviously were.

Natasha woke before he did, somehow sensing his distress. Her eyes slid open and she rolled over, putting her back to the door. He was shifting restlessly, no doubt caught in the throes of one of the many nightmares of the past, or the fears of the future. She knew better than to wake him, she'd tried that once and come away with a knife wound on her arm. He slept with his combat blade under his pillow every night, and she had known that, but hadn't thought he'd be so lost in the nightmare that he'd pull it on her. She'd learned that lesson quickly.

So all she could do was wait and watch his inner struggle. When he came awake, it was sudden. One moment he was shifting restlessly and the next he was jackknifed, his breathing already near hyperventilation, his blade in front of him defensively.

"Tasha?" He gasped her name instantly, his free hand reaching for her even as he twisted towards her side of their bed. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"I'm here." She assured, meeting his hand with hers and sitting up quickly. He very rarely dreamed about something happening to her. He trusted her abilities that much. But when he did, it was usually something very very bad.

He pulled her roughly against him, crushing her in a hug, his breathing still harsh and rasping.

"You're okay." He breathed out through the gasping breaths.

She rubbed his back gently, wondering what the hell he dreamed to get him this worked up.

"I'm just fine. I'm right here with you." She assured gently.

He started to pull away and she let him, but they kept their hands on each other's arms. His eyes were calmer now, less wild, but still intense. She didn't ask, but he told her anyway.

"Germany." He whispered the word with such intense hatred that she swallowed.

"With Victor?" She guessed, it wouldn't be the first time he'd dreamed of that god forsaken mission. She'd had her fair share of nightmares about it too.

"Yeah…" His eyes held so much pain that she hurt for him.

"We survived, you saved me." She whispered fiercely.

"That time." He challenged with a dark chuckle.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded.

"What if I'm not strong enough anymore?"

"What?" She was so confused. Then she realized. "Hey." She snapped, forcing his attention to her. "I trust you. Because you will always be strong enough to save me when I need it because you would never accept anything less."

"I don't know anymore." He admitted darkly.

"I do." She stated it with such fervor, such conviction, and a tone that dared him to try and challenge her. Her being sure had always been enough for him. His breathing started to calm and he dropped his hands from her arms, she mirrored him. Her eyes cut to the clock on his bedside table. They'd barely slept. It was only 3:30am.

"Sorry I woke you." He apologized quietly. She shushed him and pulled him back to lie down. She curled her body around him listening to his slowing heart.

"It's not like I haven't done the same." She whispered. "Try and go back to sleep." She encouraged. She smiled slightly when he wrapped his arm around her back. She only ever felt safe in his arms. It didn't take long for the beat of his heart to lull her back to sleep. But Clint stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, until she woke four hours later.

When they finally got a call, it had nothing to do with villains or snipers. It was a multi car accident on the Brooklyn Bridge. There apparently were fires and the cars were smashed together like a crude puzzle, with live victims still trapped inside their cars. It was handy to have a Super Soldier that could lift a car, and an Iron Man that could do the same. Hawkeye was surprisingly good at field medicine and with Natasha and un-hulked Bruce's help he took the lead on getting victims to the medical experts in the safe zone.

He was on top of a turned over semi when it happened. A bullet tore into the roof next to his feet and he jumped back, flailing to keep his balance.

"Shooter!" He shouted to his teammates. Their reactions were instantaneous.

"Jarvis, find him!" Tony demanded.

"Barton, get to off of there and get to cover!" Steve ordered sharply.

Natasha pulled Bruce down behind a car even as her eyes sought Clint out and she pulled her gun. He ran along the roof of the semi, jumping off its edge athletically into a roll onto a sedan. With the cars as packed as they were he had to leap and run from rooftop to rooftop until he was able to slide to the ground. Bullets peppered his trail as he moved. Before he'd even settled behind his cover, he had his bow drawn and was searching out Williams with his eyes.

"Where are you, you son of a bitch?" He whispered. His sharp eyes caught the glint of the rifle on the roof of a building at the edge of the river. He drew his bow just as he heard Natasha cry out. He turned in time to see her spin to the ground, clutching her shoulder.

"No!" He shouted, he turned and sighted, loosing the arrow a fraction of a second later.

On the rooftop, Cole Williams jerked to the side, laughing as a black arrow skimmed the air next to his cheek.

"Not bad, kid."

"Tasha!" Clint called over his shoulder.

"I'm good, go!" she ordered. Clint didn't need to be told twice.

"Stark!" Clint called.

"Clench up, Legolas." Tony advised a second before he landed next to him, wrapped an arm around him and took off again. Just as they left the ground, a bullet ripped into Bruce's chest, sending him to the ground.

"Shit." Tony gasped as the Hulk surged forward, yelling in inhuman anger.

"Second rooftop north of the bridge!" Clint instructed sharply. "Cap get her away from him!"

"I've got her, Barton." Steve assured.

A bullet pinged off Tony's armor.

"Just drop me on the roof and let me handle this."

"Barton…"

"He's mine, Stark." Tony could tell by the tone of his coworker's voice that any interference would never be forgiven. This guy had done the unthinkable; he'd gone after the Widow.

"I'll keep you covered."

Tony flew quickly to the building and let Clint loose about seven feet above the rooftop. The archer proved his agility and athleticism once again when he hit the tarmac and immediately tucked into a roll and came up with his bow drawn, arrow notched. An impressive feat when he was still healing from getting shot a week ago. Tony hovered a distance away, watching the sniper pull a handgun to match. The two stood, both poised to fire, barely six feet apart. Tony held his breath, knowing it was a contest to see who would blink first.

When the moment came, Tony wasn't sure who moved first, both men's movements were faster than even Jarvis's eye could follow. One second, they were facing off. The next, the gun was discharging a split second before an arrow knocked it from the wielder's grasp. Tony almost headed in when he saw Clint flinch as the bullet creased his shoulder. But when the archer was a blur of movement in the next moment, the armor clad hero held back. Hawkeye nearly had another arrow notched when the sniper charged the expanse between them, knocking the arrow wild just as it was released. Clint immediately brought the lower end of the bow up, using it as a weapon against Cole's ribs. When the sniper doubled, Clint snapped the other end of the bow into his head. Cole tumbled to the ground, coming up wielding another gun, he fired, splintering the bow in Clint's hand and knocking it away.

"Tony, you need to fly her to a doctor, she's losing blood fast." Steve's voice came urgently over their ear wigs.

Tony cursed, watching as Clint and Cole circled each other like predators on animal planet. He was torn. He needed to watch Clint's back, just in case this showdown went south. But if he delayed Widow medical care, Clint would be furious. He didn't want a man like that angry at him, ever. The archer made the decision for him.

"Go, Stark, I got this." Clint ordered, his tone dark.

"Barton…" Tony hedged.

"That wasn't a suggestion."

"I'm on it." He promised before blasting back the way they'd come. "Steve…"

"I'm on my way." The Captain assured, taking off in a sprint towards Clint's location after leaving Natasha with the local police. He dodged the Hulk's flailing arms, watching as Bruce struggled to rein the monster in.

Clint pushed Natasha from his mind once Tony confirmed he was going to get her to help. He knew he'd need his focus on the here and now, so he could end this.

End of Chapter 5

The first showdown between Clint and Cole is on the way! Get excited! I'm sorry you have to wait until tomorrow to actually get the fight though :/

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Here's your preview:

The bullets from a third gun impacted his Kevlar in quick succession. Of course the asshole had another gun. He was ex-military. Clint thought as he stumbled backwards, nearly going over the wall at the edge of the roof. Cole struggled to his feet as Clint fought to hang on to consciousness. Six bullets to the chest did damage, even with Kevlar.

"Until next time, Barton." Cole hissed, driving his boot into Clint's chest and sending him backwards over the wall.