Here is the latest! Enjoy a little tour;)

Chapter 5

Bruce stumbled out of the elevator and entered the lab. He grabbed his white coat from the hook and deftly fed his arms into it while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He was talking the minute the doors opened.

"I know, I'm late. Sorry. It's been a little bit of a crazy morning. I put gas in the Explorer and I brought lunch. Her name is Helen, she works for you as of this morning, and yes I just met her yesterday." Bruce dropped a brown bag lunch on the work table across from Tony, scattering his holographic images. "There was a fire at her place last night, the whole thing was up in smoke. We were able to save some of her stuff from the apartment but everything was totaled. The pizza oven caught fire."

Tony grabbed the top of the bag and dragged it closer to spy at the contents. A devilish grin lit up his face as he bored into Bruce. "So, how—"

Bruce rapidly launched into his story. "We met in the coffee shop. I ran into her, or she ran into me, and we hit it off. We skipped in Central Park, made out under a bridge, and danced in a night club, checked in to her Field Office, she got suspended and I took her back here."

Tony popped a fry into his mouth. "Uh huh. And you had sex."

Bruce dragged the bag back toward himself and grabbed a fry.

"Don't deny it. Pepper and I saw you take out the vase last night and the elevator got fumigated."

Bruce snorted. "Yeah, well, ok fine. I . . ." he took a deep breath. "I had sex. There. I admitted it."

"Can't help but notice that your room wasn't missing a door, or a wall. Isn't that little act exciting on a person of your condition? Didn't your heart rate monitor freak out?" Tony asked, his scientific curiosity popping out.

Bruce blushed and shrugged. "I had my watch the entire time, and yeah, it increased, but I never really felt out of control. I can't really explain it. That was always the stumbling block with Betty and me and for some reason, there was just nothing. The big guy was behaving himself for once. And I've had a good handle on myself lately."

"That's what she said."

Bruce launched a fry at the side of Tony's face. "Hey, Helen's great."

"For a guy that hasn't had it in a while, I'm sure she was."

Bruce threw his head back. "I am not having this conversation right now."

"Yes you are!" Tony shouted. "We are because you got some, and that's news!"

Bruce laughed. Despite Tony's jests, he had to admit enjoying the playful banter. He did feel like he got something back with Morrissey. Something he hadn't felt in a long time: His humanity. He was a man again. Normal, no strings, no waiting for the men with flak jackets to descend on him. She knew who he was from the start and she didn't care. He felt better than he had in years.

"Did you really see us go by?" Bruce asked, returning to his own work station. Today they'd planned on going over their latest medical endeavor, an intra-cranial implant to take over the majority of the load from Clint's current hearing aids. Clint didn't exactly know about this plan just yet. The idea of him going under the knife, especially for something being implanted in his skull, wouldn't exactly go over well.

"Did I see you?" Tony said with emphasis. He leaned over his table like a pin-up tattoo woman and kicked a heel out. "I was in the middle of a 3-am breakfast. Pepper was feeding me Oreos, and you walk by with Disney's House of Mouse."

Bruce glanced at him and laughed. Tony pumped one shoulder up and down and batted his eye lashes.

"So tell me about it, stud." Tony pressed.

"I think I've told you enough." Bruce replied. "Any more and you're going to go find some heels and reenact our entire date. Oh, that reminds me, I invited her over for dinner tonight. She's on the clock until six. I was going to make some Bengali."

"I love Bengali." Tony quipped.

"I doubt you've ever had it. And you are going to behave yourself."

"Of course I will."

"And you aren't going to pester her, or throw her a line, or fire her."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The two considered each other for a moment. The bag of lunch was long forgotten.

Bruce shook his head. "I don't believe a word of what you're saying. Just don't scare her off."

"If you wanted scaring off, you should wait for Cat Woman to come back from Kazakhstan."

"Natasha is in Portland." Bruce corrected. "And when she comes back in three weeks, I imagine she'll have as much to say about me dating a SHIELD agent as Clint when he tried to stab her this morning."

Tony instantly abandoned his table and went sailing over to Bruce's station. He set his hands on the holo-table, scattering the latest dimensional programs into the air around them. "What? Wait, I thought you said she works for me? Bruce you're holding out on me, and I have to say I like it. You're all mysterious-y again, you dog you."

"No, no mystery this time. Everything but." Bruce replied. "We're very up front. I ran into her, realized she was SHIELD, she knew me right away and then we went out for breakfast. She was supposed to get a job in your offices that fell through when I ran into her. After she checked in with the field office,they put her on administrative leave for getting outed by me. Apparently, she and Clint were on a mission together. That one in Baltimore? Right after he went deaf?"

Tony nodded his head showing he knew the one.

"Well, they gave her a ration for that one too. So it was either leave, Afghanistan, or a bullet in the alley. She decided to take the leave of absence."

Tony grinned. "They don't often give leaves over at the tight-suit academy. What did you say to them?"

"I said it would keep me very happy to have her take a few weeks off." Bruce said.

"Implying it would make you turn into a giant green rage monster if they did not." Tony elaborated.

"That may have been their general opinion."

Tony snickered, slapping his hand to the side of Bruce's face. Holding his friend's head in his hands he said with loving impression, "You are a dog! I'm proud of you, Bruce! Where is she going to stay now? You said her apartment burned down?"

"I don't know yet. We were talking it over on the drive here. SHIELD assigned her the apartment, a little thing over a pizzeria in Harlem. But since she's on admin leave, we don't think they'll assign her another place. I have my private account so I'm thinking about setting her up—"

Tony waved his arm around the air as if to dispel the suggestion like he would swat a fly. In doing so, he drew his hand from Bruce's face, taking a small amount of hair with him. "Forget it. She can stay here. There's the extra room across from Clint, she can use that. So how is she working for me now?"

Bruce explained the morning's events and his impromptu exit that morning with Helen in tow. He described what Helen had told him of meeting with Barton and Clint's idea of planting her in the lower levels during her leave. For nearly an hour, the two scientists sat and chatted like two high school girls. The afternoon dragged on, and actual work went ignored.

Tony listened with all attentiveness to his friend's adventure, however he was hazard to repeat what no doubt Clint and Steve already instructed. All of this was very abrupt. Running into a pretty girl in the midst of a coffee shop was a as good a set up as any. She was a spy and as such Tony was certain she could have found some way to affect Bruce's normally reserved behavior. Even as he spoke to Bruce, he set the procured hair he'd grabbed into JARVIS' analyzer. If Bruce's new beau had given him something, Tony was going to find out.

:(:):(:):

"Don't touch my food." Bruce warned, unrolling his sleeves to button his cuffs. Sitting on the refrigerator watching him was Hawkeye. He'd monitored every minute process of the dinner preparation and, so far, had nothing to say. Clint wasn't a man of many words but the absolute silence over Bruce's cooking prowess made him nervous.

"I'm not touching." Clint told him for the third time.

"I'm going down to pick her up. Happy's bringing her up the service elevator and we're going to switch to the private one on—"

"Bruce you already said that." Steve said kindly. He was sitting on a stool at the island finishing a Gatorade.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just nervous I guess." Bruce replied. He straightened his shirt and then straightened his shirt again while checking his watch. He made a brief exclamation and rushed out to the elevator. He was already late.

Tony eased over to the stove and peered into the wok. Everything smelled good, even the strange toasted things still crisping in the stove and the spiced water on the counter. There was a chicken Shahi Korma, Moong Dal, and stuffed parawals. Where Bruce found the majority of his ingredients, most didn't want to know. But this was his day, and he was going to cook, and he was having a girl over for dinner, and that was that.

"I thought Bruce couldn't cook." Steve said.

"It's like Albert Einstein. Man can pioneer the theory of relativity but couldn't tie his shoes. Bruce can't make pancakes, but a four course foreign dish he excels at." Tony replied. He turned up a corner of his mouth. "Oh yeah, you don't know about Einstein."

"I'm not that far removed that I don't know who Albert Einstein is."

"I haven't had Bengali since I was stationed in Pakistan." Clint said. He slid off the fridge to inspect the food closer.

"What is Bengali?" Steve asked. He admitted that it smelled appetizing, but what most of it actually was he couldn't begin to guess.

"You know Bruce spent some time in Calcutta, right?" Clint asked.

Steve indicated he did.

"It's a lot of the native dishes there. Tasha's not big on it. Spices don't like her, she says."

There was a crash in the hall. The column assaulted the night before was now toppled over as Bruce and Agent Morrissey enjoyed a heartfelt greeting. Steve stood off his stool as she entered the room. Bruce was adjusting his glasses on his nose, Morrissey was removing the second sleeve of her blazer.

"Bruce, I'm going to have to revoke your security deposit if you keep romping through the hall like this." Tony said, pulling his bottle of liquor out from beneath the counter. He shook the bottle at Clint who declined.

"That would work if I had a security deposit and didn't work as your science slave for rent." Bruce shot back, smiling. He addressed Morrissey, sweeping his hand to Steve. "This is Captain Steve Rogers. Steve, this is Helen. And the scarecrow with the glowing chest is Tony Stark."

Morrissey extended her hand to Steve. His grip was as strong as she expected from Captain America. He pulled a stool out beside himself for her. She extended her hand to Tony Stark next.

"I don't touch." Tony explained.

She smiled withdrawing her hand. "I suppose I should have introduced myself yesterday seeing as you are my boss."

Before Tony could wind himself up on that point, Bruce displayed the meal. "We have a dining table but we don't ever use it. For the most part we eat at the island or in the living room. We're usually too busy for a meal like this."

Bruce transferred his hand made rotis from the stove to a plate. He stirred the dahl, poured it into a serving bowl, and set the other food out beside it. He spread his hands out over the meal and smiled. "Bon appetit!"

"This looks amazing!" Morrissey exclaimed. "The last time I had dahl was in Pakistan. It feels like forever ago."

Steve looked over at Clint. "Hey, didn't you say the same thing?"

Clint shrugged it off. "Lot of agents have to do a first tour in the Middle East."

Intrigued, Morrissey asked, "Were you in Rawastar?"

Clint narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Bruce looked between Clint and Morrissey and back. He could feel the tension radiating off of his friend but, given Helen hardly knew Hawkeye, she probably had no idea the cord she'd struck. He thought quickly how to diffuse the situation before it spiraled downward.

"I was in Rawastar." Bruce said. "I went through there on my way to Calcutta a year before the New York attack. I had intended to go back, but with the entire cleanup involved with the Chitauri it was difficult to get away."

Tony had been stacking plates beside Bruce's spread but, half way to setting the last, he stopped. His fingers stiffened.

"Tony?" Clint saw it coming instantly.

Bruce realized what he'd said. It was such a common phrase. Everything in their lives revolved around what happened either pre-New York or post-New York. Usually he was so careful about the words he chose, especially in Tony's presence; after all he knew a thing or two about triggers. He dropped his spoon and turned to his friend, taking the plate stack from him before they crashed to the floor. Morrissey could tell something was happening, but couldn't imagine what. Steve placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her still.

Tony breathed a little faster. His hand began to shake so he placed it in his pocket. With his entire body as tight as a drum, he shifted a little in place to address Clint. "I'm going downstairs."

"I'll walk with you." Bruce said.

He shook his head quickly. "No, no you've got company. Pepper's working late." He was going to go alone and would tolerate nothing more. The others knew better than to press him right away. He nodded at Morrissey. "Nice to meet you." Without saying anything further, Tony left.

Morrissey waited as the tension created an electric current through the air. At first, no one quite knew what to say. The food remained steaming in front of them. The silence was like an impenetrable timber of solemnity.

"Well, that was awkward." Barton finally said. He looked over at Morrissey and the Captain. "Look, now that she's had day one she needs a strategic tour of the Tower itself. Tomorrow is Sunday so while most of the floors are empty I'm taking her around."

Steve glanced toward Morrissey but spoke to Clint. "You do realize she's sitting right here?"

"Yes, I do. I'm deaf, not blind." Clint shifted gaze to the woman. "You're not going to be employed here long enough to require my typical monologue so, for now, what you just saw, didn't happen. Understood?"

"Clint." Banner said quietly.

Barton's hawk-like gaze remained trained on her. Realizing she was supposed to respond, she slowly nodded.

"Yes, of course."

"Good." Clint picked up a plate and passed it over to her. "At least we've developed an understanding. But don't forget. You can investigate around here all you want. But if you're really here to spy out Bruce, I will find out."

Embarrassed, Bruce flushed red and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "Clint!"

Morrissey smiled, taking it all in stride.

Bruce passed her a plate of food, attempting to keep his head low of any flying remarks he would soon be conjuring out of his friend. But, then again Clint was going to find out eventually and it might as well be sooner than later. "Oh, Helen, Tony and I were talking. There's a spare bedroom across from the Hawk's so Tony invited you to stay here for now."

Clint's face whipped sideways so hard, Bruce thought he would crack his neck. The scientist utterly avoided locking eyes with him, worried that perhaps the medusa glare would turn him to stone.

:(:):(:):

Morrissey felt strange about waking up in a room she didn't own, surrounded by a bunch of things that didn't belong to her. The smells were nothing like she had grown used to with weeks of living over top the old pizzeria. It was an even more dramatic change from the dust and sand that consumed her life in Iraq. This was quiet, this was cold, and it felt like little more than a hospital room upgrade. Why she ever agreed to move in with Bruce Banner she would never in her right mind understand.

But sometimes, that's what summer love did.

Her feet balanced on the carpet while debating what exactly she was going to do with herself. Obvious choices were getting up for breakfast, hitting the gym, and maybe learning the layout of Stark Tower a little before she got herself lost in the lower offices. But those things were incidental in the grand scheme. She wondered mostly what she was even doing here.

"Helen, girl, what are you thinking?" she whispered.

Bruce had seen the five-alarm fire as an opportunity to extend his hospitality. She saw it as a chance for their budding romance to grow. As for the rest of the Avengers . . . the jury was officially still out, though, one in particular, had no trouble telling her exactly how he felt. She'd worked with Clint only once before and, at that time, he was obnoxious, non-rule abiding, and even somewhat cantankerous. By the end of their mission, she'd developed an amazing respect for him as an agent. While Morrissey didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms, she was surprised by his hostility. The moment he found out a SHIELD agent caught Bruce's eye, he'd officially had it out for her.

There was a Bible and her dog tags left on the night stand. She slipped the chain over her head and let the metal settle against her skin. Agent Barton had been a live-in fixture since a few weeks following the New York attack. Apparently, tensions were tight on the Heli-carrier after what he'd been forced to do. To keep the peace, he was assigned Avengers' detail permanently. Bruce Banner had been a science twin since Stark and he rolled off together after Loki and Thor departed.

Morrissey smiled. She imagined the two would be buried in the same coffin one day after they'd gone old and grey. She had yet to interact with Agent Romanov, who was still away apparently in Portland tracking down a cellist. Steve was around, friendly, and quiet. Helen knew he was looking at her with all the same scrutiny of Clint Barton. He was just kind enough not to say it to her face.

She pulled a shirt out of the overnight bag she had yet to unpack. In a way, it helped her think of this as just a little vacation from home. She could go back any time, figuratively speaking of course. It was difficult to be convinced of that fact, but leaving herself a packed bag helped.

"Good morning, Agent Morrissey, the time is now seven-thirty-four. The temperature is seventy-four degrees Fahrenheit. It looks to be rainy today, ma'am, so if you venture out I may recommend an umbrella."

Helen looked at the ceiling as if to see the invisible entity that was JARVIS. "Uh, thanks."

"Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark are currently unavailable. Agent Barton requests your presence on level one."

"Ok, I'm on my way then." She replied.

"I will inform him."

Helen slipped on her set of shoes and took a little while trying to figure out how to open her room door. Nothing in the Stark Tower could be made easily, including (especially) doors. In the end, a complicated flip switch was all she had to twist before it sprang free. The hallway she arrived in was similar in both directions. The left hand side stopped at the Tower's private elevator. The right led past Dr. Banner's room to end with Tony and Pepper's suite. She went left.

The route downward was just as complicated as the door handle. Now she understood why Tony had JARVIS wired throughout the building. Without that little AI directing her, she would have gotten lost between the elevator change over on level thirty. Now in the new, non-private, elevator she traveled the rest of the way down until she reached the lobby.

The entryway to Stark Tower was as expansive as Tony's imagination. Columns lined the walls in sharp angles reminiscent of Tony's industrial aesthetic. The floors were a mix of brushed metal and marble. One long reception desk nearly enveloped the entire west wall as a smaller security desk took up the east end.

"Agent." Clint Barton called down. She had to make a few turns around to find his position. Clint could be like that most days. Well, everyday actually. Clint was staked out on a ledge over top of the security desk. The spot was so small she couldn't even see it from the ground. How he even got up there was another story.

Morrissey remembered what Bruce said to her about Barton in the morning. She tapped a finger to her ear.

Clint tapped his own ear, indicating he had his hearing aids in. He scampered down the wall with all the dexterity of a spider monkey and dropped beside Helen. "Figured if you're going to be around a little more, I should introduce you to some of the little quirks." He gestured toward the main lobby. "This is the intake area. Anyone coming in and out of the Tower starts at the receptionists, signs in, goes to Happy at Security, obtains their clearance badge, and takes the stairs or elevators up."

The archer took a new badge from his pocket and handed it to her. "Do not get caught in this Tower without your security badge. Happy will sic the dogs on you."

She took it from him and attached it to her sleeve. She was surprised at how calm and patient he was being with her. Compared to the Clint that glared over an Indian dinner at her the night before, this was a complete turnaround. Bruce must have spoken to him and requested he lighten up, Morrissey decided

"I guess it's not really fair to just ignore what happened with Tony last night, so I'm going to let you in on our very tiny loop. You should not be repeating this with anyone in SHIELD. Avengers' matters are kept in house. Understand that?"

She agreed.

"After New York, he's been having recurring PTSD so just have some kid gloves with him."

"PTSD?"

Clint shrugged. "I'm kind of the eyes and ears around here so I pick up things quick. Like the fact that you didn't unpack last night. Pepper works on level Thirty-Three most days. Corner office and a wing almost completely to herself. If Tony is looking rough, do us all a favor and just go get her. She can handle him better than you, me, or Bruce ever could."

"With the PTSD you mean?" She asked.

"You've been in war. I know you've seen it."

That she couldn't refute.

"Yeah, well, Stark doesn't like to put a name on it. You'll know it when you see it. Last night you saw it."

She nodded. "Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah," he said as he walked toward the stair well. "Everything else."

They took the stairs up to the first level. Clint pulled open the access door and in they went. Helen threaded her way after Barton through the countless aisles of cubical workers. Most were away for the weekend and those that had stayed for a Sunday shift were so engrossed in the two passing by that working in any sense was a very loosely applied term.

"First few floors are nothing put paper pushing, general level intellectual stuff." Clint announced as they walked. "These are the people that keep all the logistics that Tony hates in line. Without them, I doubt he could even keep the lights on. So be nice. But I probably don't have to tell you that."

"Yeah, I get it." She said, keeping up.

Clint took a sharp turn at the end of the row and led them back to the stairwell. Morrissey caught up until they were walking side by side.

"Does Mr. Stark ever actually come down here?"

Clint chuckled. "That would be the day. I think if he ever actually did every secretary with a hero complex, he would need CPR. And I've only got two hands." He pushed the door open and they re-entered the stairwell for the journey up to floor four.

"Look, agent, the only reason I'm giving you this tour is because Banner asked me to do it to keep you from getting turned around. Tony asked me to simply keep you from touching his stuff. Steve figured it would give you a better perspective on things, like the work Stark Industries does behind its owner's back."

Clint kept a fast tour. There were still nearly forty-six floors to go, not including the hidden lab tucked between level 44 and 45. Already half an hour in, Morrissey was expecting this day to be a long one.

"And you? What's your reason for all this?" She hazarded to ask.

Clint stopped before pushing the door open. He put his back against the frame and folded his arms. "Look, I don't really know you. I have this thing where if I spend time with someone, I tend to understand whether or not they'll be a detriment to our lives. We run a tight ship here." He leaned over the stair railing and peered first up, and then down, to be sure they were alone. Assured of the fact, he went back to leaning on the doorway.

"This whole buddy-buddy thing is a powder keg. I'm brought in to assess risks and take out targets. You know what I see here?"

She sat on the railing and spread her hands, indicating Clint should go on.

"Stark just took every known public face of a global world defense team and put them under one roof. Also under that roof is the most technologically advanced energy device this planet has ever seen. And the planet did see that, in action, assist in opening a portal to a different galaxy. You asked me why I'm giving you this tour, and the honest answer is because, should the day come when this place gets invaded, blown up, or generally besieged, I want to know you are confident enough in the layout to properly defend all entry points. Especially, given the fact that some SHIELD higher ups saw it fit to plant you here JUST because such a threat came through."

The words hung in the air between them, the echo of the stairwell carrying them up and down in little invisible vortices. Morrissey didn't need to think that long before coming to grips with what Clint was telling her. She had to agree.

"Putting it in that light does change things." she said.

"Glad you see that. My other reason is I still don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Onward and upward?"

Morrissey pushed off the railing and they entered the next line of offices. Given Clint's new perspective of the information, she took a little more care to pay attention to her surroundings. She knew everything he said was true. As much security as Tony built in to this place, trying to evacuate all of these workers in the event of a serious attack would be a monumental undertaking. The more people Clint had on board with the whole defense idea, the better.

"Did Miss Romanov get this same tour when she came?" She asked.

Clint lead through another cubical lined floor, laughing. "Tasha? You forget your history, she infiltrated Stark Industries before any of us. She gave ME this talk."

:(:):(:):

It was noon when Clint and Morrissey ended the first half of the official Stark tour. Morrissey had all the impression that they'd be continuing right up every single floor for as long as it took to finish out the day but Clint had something else in mind and, apparently, he'd planned it perfectly into their schedule. It just so happened that by lunch time they'd made it as far as the thirtieth floor. Coincidentally, or not, it was the same location as the cafeteria.

Stark did nothing small. That was Clint's resounding mantra up every single floor of the building. Helen had seen things she could have never imagine. It was no small stretch to assume that Howard Stark himself had no idea what he'd unleashed when he brought Tony into the world. If Clint was attempting to impress Helen with Stark's more redeeming qualities, he had succeeded. Not only was he a somewhat absent-minded boss who would rather spend a billion dollars on a Salvador Dali he would never lay eyes on, but also he was caring and sensitive to what it took to keep those he employed efficient. If that meant an open floor plan office space, windows on every possible angle of the building, and the elimination of corner office rivalries, that's what he did. The employees were held to impossibly high standards, but that didn't meant they weren't happy. They were challenged, ideas for growth and expansion were harnessed, and the entire company progressed.

"Fine. I'll admit it. It's pretty impressive." She said.

"Isn't it? I don't really know why I leave to get things because technically I could just grow my own food in a petri dish or something by now." Clint replied. He grabbed a tray and headed for the fast food line. In the wake of Tony's high standards, there were three mall-style 24-7 fast food choices. One was a gyro/shwarma place complete with its own dueling chefs. One had been born and raised in Athens with a zeke sauce recipe that could make any Greek weep. The other was an Afghan national Clint brought over as a favor. He'd been the mess cook in his camp for a while when Coulson and he ran missions between Afghanistan and Iraq. He was a fantastic foxhole chef but with the advent of Tony's unlimited backing, he was world renown in the shwarma circles.

Clint liked to stand in line some days just to watch the Greek and the Afghan scream at each other. He'd always end up with two lunches, eat half of both, and never said which he preferred. It was too much enjoyment to watch the cooks try to figure it out among themselves. Beside the Greek and Sheikh Boutique was the all-American Burger King/McDonalds. The same rivalry basted out of their likes the flames on the range grill.

"Tony thinks people work the food better when they have someone to beat." Clint said. "Of course this is all just the fast stuff. On the other side of the—what? Yes, that is real grass and no I don't know how or really even why he did it—on the other side of the courtyard is the fresh stuff. Produce, Panera, Whole Foods, fruity kind of stuff. Mostly Stark's over there. He installed all the trees and things so that when he wanted something normal, the fast foodies didn't feel bad about it. So there are three store fronts. Greek and Sheikh, Mc King, and that's the Kentucky Fish. Its Kentucky Fried Chicken and Fish would be shocked by how crazy those guys get about batter."

Helen got in line behind Clint as they approached the food vendors. She just couldn't believe this place. Stark Tower literally was candy land. The closer they got to the R and D levels, the wackier the development plans became. Sorting through the first couple floors she had no idea this gem was just waiting here for her. And the 360-view fish tank on level ten? The thing was big enough to hold a whale and the square design made it so little office desks fit at every single angle of it. If Helen was trapped working at a desk job, she'd be doing her level bet to start on level ten.

It just kept getting better. The higher up, the more toys. Clint explained it was another safety feature. Those who weren't involved in the inner industry positions or the temporary hires and try outs all started low. If they cut it, were loyal, and retained that pivotal trust barrier, they moved up. Quite literally. Now this? Helen felt like she was standing in Central Park and she hadn't even made it to Pepper's office door yet.

"So this is what you can do when you have all the money in the world." Helen said.

Clint elbowed her. "This is what you can do when you have Stark's brain in your head. Bill Gates has a net worth of around sixty some billion dollars. More money than he can set on fire in a single dump truck. Do you know how he lives at home? He has a pin that clips on to people that telekinetically communicates with some computer to adjust the lights or temperature and play some music. Now, when you walked in that front door for the first time, did JARVIS ask you for a list of preferences?"

"No."

"Right. He was designed as an Artificial Intelligence. He doesn't have to ask. He'll tweak the temperature by himself and if you aren't comfortable, he can tell and turn it the other way. Now let me ask why did you come find me this morning?"

"Because JARVIS said you were looking for me." She answered.

"Well I never told him to. He just knows things like that. I don't get why. Maybe one day he'll turn Skynet on us and kill us in our sleep. Until then, don't tick him off." Clint walked down the food line with Helen behind him. He was in a Greek mood today, but that didn't mean he was going to get off easy with Fahran. Helen grabbed little things from here and there and made herself a meal of every flavor.

"Thanassis! A wet day to you, my friend." Clint called out, waving to the chef on the line. "Fahran, when's that baby of yours coming to town?"

Both men exclaimed happily seeing one of their more popular customers. They left the line to the other chefs and came around to shake his hand and slap his back. Thanassis spoke about a niece he wanted to introduce Clint to, demanded a set day when to bring her by. Fahran was running into issues with immigration and clearing his wife and baby through the customs lines as they'd relocated to Iran. Morrissey hung back as the three caught up and Clint broke the news he was there for a gyro and not shwarma. At such a declaration, Fahran vowed to make him some Asabia el Aroos Clint would never forget. Before they moved back to the line, Clint hiked a thumb back at Agent Morrissey.

"Want to introduce you both to the Ms. Relark, she started with Level Three yesterday. This is Thanassis Paplamagotous and Fahran Kohistani."

Helen shook hands with the two chefs and said their hellos. Of course, anyone friends with Clint was a friend of theirs. Clint grabbed his food, promised to get a SHIELD agent on top of the immigration crew for Fahran's family, and led Morrissey to one of his desired picnic tables. From their position on the grass, backs against trees that she couldn't tell were real or not, they ate their lunches in peace and quiet. Helen expected Clint to scramble up to one of the low hanging limps and eat his lunch there like some African cat, but Clint resisted and stuck to the ground beside her.

"What? No climbing?" She asked.

"Not with company." Clint replied. "Usually? Yes. I can cover half the floor from the third limb up."

"Are they real?"

"The trees? I don't know. But let me ask you, does it really matter? If Tony had real trees planted in a terraformed grass in the middle of a food court would it be any less impressive than to have impeccably matched fakes?"

"Yeah I guess you're right." She unwrapped her burger and took a few bites. If she wasn't mistaken she heard birds tweeting in the distance like a scene from a Walt Disney film. "What next?"

"Next we head to the lab. You can see some R and D and we'll check on Tony and Bruce. Do me a big favor and don't jump each other. I want to make sure Tony is all right after his lapse last night."

"Lapse?"

Clint peeled the paper down on his gyro and nodded his head. "Yeah. Like I said before, PTSD. Bruce has an eye on Tony most of the time but if he's not around it makes me feel better to check on him myself. He has a few triggers we know of. Mentioning the attack, especially the part where he goes through the portal, that's a major trigger so don't bring it up. Water is another trigger, but that's from back when he was water boarded a couple years ago. Not all water, just the big things like I told you. He redesigned the Iron Man suit to withstand ocean depths now with its individual oxygen supply. If he's in the suit, he's fine. It's like his safety net. If Pepper, Bruce or me aren't around, try and just shove him into a suit. Some times that works to snap him out of it."

"What exactly does he do?" Morrissey set her food aside now. "And shouldn't he be talking to someone?"

"He is. So far every therapist has quit though. He isn't the easiest patient. He talks to Bruce. It's helping. He gets nightmares. Bad ones. Tenses, freezes, panics, screams, he's just confused and freaked out. Don't take anything he says personal. When he's in the suit, he's 100%. He needs it as much as it needs him."

"Ok. No attack, no New York, call Pepper. Anything I should know about Agent Romanov?"

"Yeah, first off only Director Fury calls her Agent anything. Oh, and yes she's called the Black Widow, but don't call her that every day. It's like a status thing. When we're on missions, that's her call name because she earned it for a reason. Just try and remember that before you try and cross her. Besides that, she's just an ordinary genetically altered human."

"Her?!"

"Oh, you didn't know? You can read it in any SHIELD brief. I forget the logistics of it, but it's the Russian version of brain washing with a little bit of nano technology, super serum, and invincibility thrown in. You don't think she'd willingly do all that crazy acrobatic stuff she does without something to fall back on."

Morrissey wasn't sure what she thought about Agent Romanov. Given the only other person she knew to try out the super serum, and fail, was Dr. Banner She was sure everyone else on the planet was scared off from trying it.

"Pepper's easy to get on with." Clint went on. He balled up his paper wad. "She's like a sister. Bruce doesn't need half the kid gloves SHIELD says he does. He really has himself under control. I haven't done anything that could even get under his skin. And I've been told I can be really good at that." Clint launched the paper. It rebounded off two trees and somewhere out of sight hit the center of a trashcan. "He likes getting back to work. Having resources again. He's been so far removed for so long but it took less than a day to get caught up on everything. He's like scary smart. If Tony and he ever decided to turn coat then we might as well just live in a spaceship or something. Nothing could stop them."

"Good point." She replied. "I can't imagine a company taking order from Stark. The whole world? That would be something. But switch topics. What about you? What should I know?"

Clint smiled. "I'm not that easy. I keep the peace. I stay back and assess things. I don't like getting involved in the thick of it unless I need to. Ever work with a sniper squad?"

"Sure I have."

"I'm probably just like every one of them. Take my advice when I give it. Everything I say is for a reason and to get you out of trouble. Especially on missions. If I tell you to back down from drop kicking a door, it's because I saw something you didn't and whatever you missed is going to get you killed. SHIELD's backing off to let us police ourselves. So, give us the space we need to do our thing and we'll keep going just fine."

Clint got up with his tray and they dropped their trash in the can on their way out the door. They had to take the main elevator up a couple floors to Pepper's office before changing over to the private security elevator. The small break was over. It was time to get back to work.

That's all for now!