Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any of the characters in the story except Le Roux and his henchmen. If I did, there would totally be a Hawkeye/Black Widow movie in the works.
Author's Note: 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 blackdog-lz, Mirror's Mirage, Reteka Hyuuga, Clovely-little-me, M J Rosemary, Strawberrywaltz, ginnytwin95, Fyroni, anon, tic tac toe 03, GHOST oo007, SPN4eva556, ILoveSupernatural, Amy, BrokenSky49, Liliththestormgoddess, and CyanB who are all my first chapter reviewers! You rock my socks right off my feet!
Last Time:
Effectively dismissed, Clint pulled his shirt back on and left the way he'd come. Natasha rose gracefully from her seat and fell into step with him.
"You're back?"
"I'm back."
You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don't trust enough.- Frank Crane
Later, neither Clint nor Tony would admit who was at fault.
The whole team except for Bruce, who was working in the peaceful quiet of his room, and Thor, who was back on Asgard, was in the training room.
Steve and Natasha were sparring, with the assassin trying to teach the soldier some of the points of combat he'd missed over the last 70 years. Tony was sparring with his trainer and Clint was jumping around in the rafters like a monkey. Or at least that was how Tony had referred to him.
Tony frowned when his trainer asked for a break. He glanced towards the Russian and Stars and Stripes but they were intensely focused on what they were doing and didn't even glance in his direction. Pursing his lips momentarily, a flying shadow caught his attention.
"Hey, George of the Jungle, wanna go a few rounds?"
He looked up in time to see Clint flip acrobatically across the entire length of the room, using only the steel girders as platforms for his hands and feet. Tony tilted his head curiously to the side as he watched Clint eye the gymnast bar below him. Without hesitation, he jumped, flipping in a tight ball once before stretching out in time to catch his hands on the highest bar. He used his fall's natural momentum to spin his body around a few times before releasing the bar and flipping acrobatically to the ground.
"I definitely give you points for the landing, twinkle toes, but I'm deducting for style." Tony informed as Clint made his way over to him.
"Laugh it up Iron Ass, but me being able to do that," He pointed to the ceiling, "Will save your life someday."
"I don't need you saving my life at all, Tweety, that's what the suit is for."
"I don't see the suit now." Clint pointed out as he slid into the sparring ring.
"Is that a threat, Feather Head?" Tony grinned.
"Guess you'll find out." Clint smirked stretching out his arms and eyeing Tony in a particularly predatory way.
Natasha glanced over when she noticed Clint had left the rafters. Her eyebrow arched as she watched him climb into the ring with Tony.
"Oh that's not a good idea." She stated to no one in particular.
Steve glanced up from where he was working on his footwork and followed her line of sight.
"Uh Tony!" She called out, trying to warn him.
"Not now, Stalin, Daddy's busy." Tony shouted back.
Natasha shrugged.
"You saw me try." She directed at Steve, who was looking confused.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Clint is a highly trained, very skilled assassin…Stark…is Stark."
"Right." Steve nodded suddenly understanding. He turned to watch the approaching match with interest.
Clint held his stance loosely, watching with amused eyes as Stark mockingly danced around him. He glanced at Natasha, and winked. She smirked back and Clint returned his attention to Tony in time to narrowly avoid a right cross. He leaned away from it, chuckling.
"Whoa, tiger, a little eager, are we?"
"Just jealous you weren't paying attention to me." Tony shot back, taking another swing. Clint ducked under it.
"Yeah, well, she's a lot better looking."
"Fair point," Tony conceded, trying to land a few more hits, but ending up swinging at air every time, "Mind if I look at her too?"
Clint laughed.
"That's up to you, Lead Head, but her's is the permission I'd be worried about. She's killed guys for less."
Tony took another couple swings, surprised when he the lithe archer ducked or dodged every attempt. Clint wasn't even breathing hard. And his hands were fisted loosely at about waste height. It was getting insulting.
"Trying to give me a cold with all that fanning?" Clint taunted, easily dodging another blow and dancing out of reach. Tony's eyes narrowed. That was insulting. Good thing he could give as good as he got.
"You always fight like you're scared to take a swing?"
"I'm a patient man, Stark…I'm just biding my time."
"I've heard patience is a vice." Tony countered.
Clint dodged a few more attempts, casually tripping Tony up as he spun away. Tony glared over his shoulder when he heard Natasha snicker.
He turned to face Clint again, a little more seriously.
Clint cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.
Tony stalked forward, determined to land at least one hit. He swung his left arm around wide, and to his surprise, not only did Clint duck under it, but he kicked Tony's legs out from under him. He crashed heavily onto his back. He watched Clint step away and nearly growled in frustration. He kicked out, taking out Clint's knees and sending the archer to the mat as well.
"Take that, Cupid." Tony smirked as he pushed himself to his feet. He blinked in surprise when Clint rolled easily into a reverse somersault and to his feet with scary ease. "I asked to go a few rounds, not shadow box." Tony complained.
"This is how I fight, Stark." Clint defended refusing to acknowledge how the ache in his back was slowly fading into actual pain.
"Like a pussy?"
Clint's eyes narrowed.
"Stop fighting like a pussy, Barton!" Williams growled.
Clint blinked the memory away, his fists tightening. It was the wound on his back; he told himself, that was what brought back the memory of his showdown with his old unit mate. It wasn't Stark's fault. He forced his fists to loosen and responded.
"With patience. You should try it sometimes, Stark, you might actually get somewhere...and I can think of at least one woman that would be offended by that remark...considering she could kill you with a paperclip."
"Yeah whatever...Right now, you're boring me…my trainer was more fun during his water break."
"You want me to try and hit you?" Clint laughed. "That's not in your best interest, trust me."
"You don't scare me, Legolas." Tony arched an eyebrow.
"I should." Clint's eyes hardened. He'd been insulted enough today. Those assholes at the eval this morning already had him in a sour mood and now his back was hurting, again.
"I think the reason you fight like that, Casper, is the same reason you stick to the shadows, in the air vents, or up in the rafters…you're too afraid to actually engage in anything." Stark baited, hoping to get a rise and get a good fight.
Stark really didn't know when to shut up.
Clint's expression hardened and his eyes took on a focus that he usually reserved for a target at the other end of an arrow. Tony realized he might have pushed too far, but wasn't about to back down now.
He swung, unsurprised when Clint ducked. He was surprised by the palm to the solar plexus, though. He stumbled back, coughing.
"Did I hit a nerve?" Tony taunted as he moved back in to attack again. Not only did Clint block or dodge every hit, but he turned the tables. A knee to the ribs, followed by an elbow to the cheek, finished with a boot to the stomach. The archer still hadn't broken a sweat, Tony realized, as he tried to suck air into his lungs.
"Clint." Natasha's voice rang out in warning across the room. The archer ignored her and advanced. Tony finally had the fight he'd been looking for, but he realized belatedly that he didn't have a hope of keeping up. It wasn't until Clint threw himself into a half cartwheel, his legs coming up to scissor around Tony's chest, and then slam him to the ground, that Tony decided this had been a mistake, his biggest one in a while.
"That's gonna leave a mark." Tony gasped, wondering if there was a phone ringing or if that was in his head.
"Enough!" Natasha was suddenly between them as Clint released him and did the backwards somersault to his feet again.
Tony thought that was a really adding insult to injury.
She shoved Clint hard in the chest. "Go cool off!" She ordered. He held his hands up in surrender and slid out of the ring, walking out without a word.
Steve was pulling Tony to his feet.
"You okay?" the Captain asked in concern, eyeing the purpling bruise on Tony's jaw.
"Yeah…just caught me by surprise."
"You shouldn't have baited him." Natasha snapped. "And he should have kept the fight under control. As far as I'm concerned, you're both идиоты." She stormed off in the direction her partner had headed.
"Do you know what that means?" Tony wondered, glancing at Steve.
The Captain shook his head negatively, eyeing him sternly.
"I didn't think he'd snap like that." Tony admitted.
"That wasn't him snapping, Tony…that was him sparring…have you ever even paid attention when he and Natasha go at it? That beat down he just gave you was nothing compared to what he's actually capable of."
"He knew I wouldn't be able to keep up." Tony argued, "And he came after me anyway."
"And you had nothing to do with that." Steve arched an eyebrow doubtfully.
Tony rolled his eyes and walked away, refusing to admit to anything.
Natasha slammed open the door to Clint's bathroom, snapping the shower curtain aside.
"Jesus, Tasha!" Clint cursed, putting a hand up to block the spray of water from hitting his face.
"What the hell was that?" She demanded, telling herself repeatedly to stay angry, not to let herself get distracted just because he was naked.
"What?" He asked. "That stuff with the ass hat? He had it coming." Clint shrugged, rubbing the soap through his hair and ducking back under the spray.
"I've seen you break spines with that last move." Natasha argued, stalking over to the towel rack and ripping one off the bar. "I should know, I taught it to you."
"I had it under control." Clint defended, turning off the water. He chuckled when a towel hit him square in the face. "What?" He questioned with a laugh. "You can't tell me you didn't enjoy me bringing him down a couple notches."
"You let him bait you." Natasha didn't relent. Clint rolled his eyes and wrapped the towel around his waist. "You have better control than that, what happened?"
"It's been a long day." He admitted, grabbing another towel and rubbing it through his hair. Natasha had to force her eyes away from all the scars that littered his well sculpted body. She could put names to most of the missions that had caused them. They weren't good memories.
"Those guys that were messing with you during the eval…you let it bleed over." She realized.
"I hate that place." Clint sighed. "But Stark still had it coming…the guy annoys me…he's annoying."
"I know, trust me, but that doesn't mean you can just take him to the mat whenever it strikes you."
"Why not? It felt really good. You should try it...very cathartic."
"Clint." Natasha sighed in annoyance. She reminded herself forcefully that she was glad her smart ass partner was back to himself.
"What? Tasha? What?" Clint threw up his hands in frustration, second towel abandon around his neck. "What's so wrong with me sticking it to that asshole every now and then?"
"Nothing, if that was all that was going on...but it's not, Clint...I'm not an idiot...He's the only one you're still freezing out…you ever thought that maybe that's why he baits you all the time? Because you're building relationships with everyone except him." Natasha crossed her arms over her chest.
"The guy's an ass!" Clint defended.
"So was Coulson!" She shot back. Clint's eyes shuttered, walls coming up to protect what he was thinking. She hated it when he did that. "That's it." She realized.
"What's it?" Clint sighed, moving to walk past her. He froze next to her at her next words.
"He reminds you of Phil…that's why you're freezing him out."
"He's nothing like Phil." Clint countered darkly, turning his head to look at her. She met his gaze squarely.
"You sure about that?" She challenged. "Because it seems to me, the only one that you ever went at it like that with...was Phil...you and he argued constantly…the only time he you didn't was when you were injured."
"You're wrong." Clint refuted, "We argued then too."
She snorted a laugh and Clint smiled back.
"Think about it." She instructed quietly before backing away and turning to head back into his room.
Clint watched her go and sighed. It wasn't that he and Phil argued all the time. Even if it was true. Or that he and Stark did the same thing now. It was that Phil had never been afraid to argue with him, about anything, ever. He was the big brother to replace the one that had betrayed him. And he didn't want anyone stepping into that spot, ever. Maybe Tony did remind him of Phil, in that he was constantly on his ass about something, wasn't afraid to challenge him.
But he wasn't Phil, not even close.
Natasha was waiting for him when he came back into his room. She tossed him a pair of boxers.
"Lie down on your stomach." She ordered.
At his questioning eyebrow arch she rolled her eyes.
"You may have Bruce convinced you're A-okay but I know your back still hurts...and sparring probably made it hurt worse...stop me if I'm wrong." She challenged with a delicately arched eyebrow.
He sighed, pulled on the boxers and lay on his stomach on the bed, wrapping his arms around the pillow she'd put out for him. Immediately her strong hands started kneading the tense, knotted muscles around the stab wound.
"Good god, Tasha...that feels fucking fantastic." He groaned, letting his eyes drift closed.
"You should have told Bruce that it's still giving you problems...he's not SHIELD...he just wants to help you." She pointed out quietly.
"What's he gonna do? Give me meds so I don't feel it as much? I won't take them, so what's the point." He shrugged, groaning in pleasure as she smoothed a knot out and some of the tension released.
"Yeah...I know." She admitted. She was just sick of seeing him in pain all the time.
"Sorry I lost control." He mumbled quietly, peaking at her over his shoulder.
Her eyes softened.
"I know he drives you crazy...but he's one of the good guys...he deserves a chance." She advised softly.
"I don't want a new Phil." He countered seriously.
Natasha tried not to let the way her heart broke a little at that show on her face.
"No one wants you to replace Phil, Clint." She sighed. "No one ever could...but you can find pieces of him in all of them." She nodded towards the door, indicating the rest of the team.
"How do you figure?" He wondered.
"Bruce hounds you about your health, just like Phil used to...Thor always reminds you about the fact that you're a hero, whether you like it or not...Steve is the most trustworthy of all of them, also the first one you confided in...you confide in him like you did in Phil...and Stark..." She smiled, "He's the most obvious, which is why you hate it so much..."
Clint sighed into his pillow, contemplating silently. She wasn't wrong. She rarely was.
"Вы знаете, что путь умнее меня, мой сексуальный огненный паук." He rolled over and smiled at her.
You know you're way smarter than me, my sexy fiery spider.
She smiled, leaning over him.
"Cексуальный?" She questioned, throwing her leg over his waist.
Sexy?
"Очень, очень сексуально." He smirked.
Very, very sexy.
She pressed a kiss onto his lips but pulled back after a moment.
"Не вы его забудете, я очень сексуальная ястреба." She purred before kissing him again.
Don't you ever forget it, my very sexy hawk.
End of Chapter 2
Had to get some BlackHawk in there because there isn't going to be much more in this story :( Don't worry...this isn't the only Clint/Natasha interaction you're going to get :)
The mission comes up next chapter! Then this story really gets rolling :)
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Here's your preview:
"I figured you wouldn't mind it a little fast and furious, Stark…was I wrong?" Clint finally acknowledged him, a smirk upturning his lips.
"No." Tony immediately defended his thirst for adrenaline. "A little warning is usually customary in these type of situations...just a thought for next time."
"Sure." Clint's look was so patronizing, Tony was sure his mother felt insulted.