A/N: 2012 winner of NaNoWriMo contest and exclusively Beta'd by the wonderful ladygris.

Thanks,

~Sandy

Avengers

From Time to Time

Chapter 4

The memory of loving Naomi brought others that had eluded Clint until now. Once his memories of her had returned, spotted here and there with gaps, he remembered loving her and being loved by her. What he hadn't recalled until today was the moment he'd told her. He didn't know how watching her dance could do that, but he was glad it had.

As always, when he tried to remember, his head began to throb. He pressed the heel of his hand to the area over his left eye as the blood rushed through him, pulsing in time with the ache. But with the pain came the memories he'd stopped trying to recall because his head would ache for hours afterward. He saw them, he and Naomi, his arms around her as a man with an arrow protruding from his chest breathed his last, blood pooling on the ground around him. Fear of losing her forever had made him say the words.

I love you so much, I don't know what I would've done if I'd lost you.

"In or out?"

Slightly disoriented, Clint's vision blurred then cleared, a small amount of dizziness still remaining. Maria Hill was looking at him expectantly awaiting an answer. He also noticed the music had stopped. "Um…out."

Hill glanced through the window, a smirk twisting her lips. "Why don't you just ask her out instead of stalking her, Barton?"

Clint went from mesmerized to enraged in an instant. "Excuse me?!"

The bantering tone and cocky grin Hill had worn when she arrived turned to annoyance. "It was a joke. Lighten up."

"Stalking is not something to joke about!"

Hill raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Crap, Barton. Are you always grouchy in the morning?"

"Only on days that end in Y."

The door opened and Naomi stepped out taking in their aggressive postures, looking from one to the other. "Is there a problem?"

"No." Clint held Hill's gaze for another five seconds as Naomi came to stand in between the two agents, touching him on the arm. He looked down into her wide and curious eyes recalling his revelation of just a few moments ago. As fast as he could, Clint left the area, embarrassed at being caught watching Naomi without her knowledge and annoyed as hell at Hill for pointing it out.

~~O~~

Watching Clint hurry away with his eyes averted told Naomi that more was going on than either would say. "I heard loud voices, Agent Hill. Is something going on between you and Agent Barton?"

Shaking her head, Hill forced a smile. "Call me Maria, doc. And no, nothing's wrong. He can be a grouch first thing in the morning."

"Really?" Naomi reached back in her memory and pulled out all the mornings following the two of them sleeping in each other's arms. Only a few stood out to the point where she would've called Clint grouchy, but those times were few and usually had to do with the circumstances. Having your truck blown up was a big contributor. She was smiling wistfully, but didn't know it. "Never noticed."

"Yeah." The women changed places as Hill opened the gym door. "I think he just needs to get laid. There's even a pool."

Naomi almost dropped her gym bag at Hill's comment. "That's inappro-"

"If you wanna make a move, I say go for it. The worst he can do is say no."

No. The worst he can do is say yes! Did the other woman know that Naomi and Clint had once been together or was she fishing? Whatever the reason, Naomi wouldn't be the one to appease her curiosity. Not today. The conversation also brought out the fact that Naomi had been remiss in some of the questions she should've been asking Clint. The answers he gave would help her gauge his ability to handle stress.

In the past, he would run or go to the archery range, but those were only the ones she knew about. With the type of job he had, Clint must have more than one stress reliever. He didn't drink to excess nor did he take recreational drugs. Or that was how he'd been before. It was up to her to figure out if he was doing it now, though it didn't seem likely.

Naomi went to her room to shower and change before going back to her office and working up a list of the questions she wanted to ask Clint in their next session. In addition, she sent emails to schedule the annual evaluations for some of the staff chosen randomly. She received confirmations from everyone but her father. Not that it surprised her. It was a conflict of interest for her to perform his evaluation. Opening a new email, she sent a request to her superior, Dr. McNeil.

~~O~~

By the time Clint reached the deck, the dizziness was gone, pushed out by his aggravation toward Hill. What made her mention stalking? She couldn't have read Naomi's file if she made jokes.

Making a mental note to apologize to Hill again, he finished his warm-up and took off running. At mile two, he'd come to the decision to request another shrink because he wasn't certain that he could maintain a strictly professional relationship with Naomi. Then about mile five he reversed his thinking to no way they could go back to what they had in the past. Mile seven had him unresolved as to what to do about Naomi, if anything.

Returning to his room, he lay down on the bed instead of showering right away. Lack of sleep from the night before caught up with him and he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

~~O~~

Night had fallen in New York cloaking the city in enough darkness that the wounds didn't show as much. Life was slowly returning to the worst hit areas. Natasha leaned on the balcony railing watching the lights come on where there had been none for months.

She felt rather than heard Steve come to her side. Not close, but close enough that she could tell his heart was beating slow and steady. He didn't speak and neither did she. They just shared a companionable silence.

It started to rain, and they headed inside just as Pepper came toward them. "Dinner's ready."

Without looking at each other, Steve and Natasha went to the sink to wash up, joining Pepper, Stark, Banner and Thor around the table. Somehow they made it seem accidental that the super-soldier and the spy were sitting next to each other.

Talk around the table was brisk with some minor differences of opinion, usually involving Stark, and were settled by Pepper because she was the only one of the group that Stark would listen to. Steve made a pot of coffee not watching as Natasha prowled the room and finally finding a spot in front of the fireplace. She looked up when Steve handed her a cup of decaf then seated himself next to her where they spent the next hour talking about whatever subject came up.

Thor came to join them, and Natasha welcomed the Asgardian with a smile though Steve seemed to be a little annoyed. She set her empty cup aside and wrapped her arms around her knees pulling them to her chest. Though she saw him every few days, she missed Clint. He was the only one who seemed to understand how she was feeling and when she needed someone to just sit and say nothing.

From the corner of her eye, Steve passed her and Thor by, going to stand in front of the patio doors, hands in his pockets and just watching the stars come out, what few could be seen. The moon was peeking over the tops of the buildings to the east when Stark went to stand next to Steve. Stark appeared relaxed most of the time, and tonight was no different. But the twinkle in his brown eyes told Natasha that something was up. She just had to wait to find out what it was.

~~O~~

Though he tried to ignore him, Steve knew it would be impossible. No one ignored Tony Stark for long.

"Hey, Cap, you're not letting Point-Break muscle in on your action, are you?"

Steve glanced down at the shorter man then back to the view. "What're you talking about, Stark?"

The ice cubes in Stark's drink clinked as he took a sip of scotch, holding it in his mouth a moment before swallowing. "You and Charlie Brown have a lot in common."

"Charlie Brown?"

"Peanuts? It's a cartoon about a lovable loser beset by insecurity and self-doubt."

None the wiser after Stark's quick explanation, Steve faced him. "How does that apply to me?"

"You both have a thing for a little red-haired girl." Stark poked him with one of the fingers holding his glass. "And you better make a move soon or…oof!"

Stark was beside Steve one second and on the floor looking up at the ceiling with Natasha on one knee over him, a hand gripping his throat the next. "Say that again, Stark! I dare you!"

Thor, his deep voice filled with humor, came to watch the festivities. "It seems that you have spoken out of turn, Stark. What will you do now?"

The billionaire's eyes flicked from Steve to Thor to Banner to Pepper and back to Natasha, his voice slightly strangled. "I will lay here quietly until she lets go of my throat then I will calmly and carefully run like hell."

Everyone but Natasha chuckled and finally, the Russian too saw the humor. She got off of Stark then Thor helped him up. "Take care with your words from now on, Stark."

Brushing imaginary dirt from his pants and shirt, Stark addressed the air. "You getting all of this, JARVIS? I want it on record that the Black Widow threatened me with physical violence."

"As you wish, sir."

Pepper crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "You asked for it, Tony. Leave Natasha and Steve alone. If they don't realize that they're perfect for each other, why should we interfere?" After dropping that bombshell, Pepper took Stark by the hand and led him down the hall to their room leaving Thor and Banner laughing while the other two sputtered protests. "Good night all!"

~~O~~

Ten days later, Naomi sat in her office typing so fast her fingers were a blur. The report she was composing should've been on the director's desk at the beginning of the week. True to her directive, she and Fury only spoke to each other on a professional level and barely that. The email requesting the report ASAP had been in her Inbox when she arrived nearly an hour later than she'd intended, and it was Clint's fault…again.

The chime announced a visitor startling her so that her teeth clamped down on the pen in her mouth. Instead of using the voice command, she hit the button to her right and a moment later, Clint was standing in front of her desk patiently waiting for her to notice him. Not that she hadn't known it was him. She could've been asleep and still have known he was in the room. He had such a strong presence, more so than when he'd been younger, that he would surely invade her dreams if given the chance. Well, she'd just have to make certain to keep her wits about her or this could turn out very bad for both of them. And this time it would be so much worse than the last.

He started that annoying habit he had of snapping his fingers and popping his fist against the opposite palm on his way to the window. As he passed, she caught the twinkle of mischief in his blue-gray eyes, one corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. He was doing it on purpose, and she let him get away with it. This time.

Pushing away from the desk, she picked up her pad and took a fresh pen from the desk. The one she chewed on hadn't worked in a long time. She used it as a sort of pacifier. Something to clench her teeth into when she was thinking or ticked off and didn't want to yell.

"It's time."

He turned from the window with an overly eager expression. "Hot damn!" Going to the sofa, he flopped into his seat as if he couldn't wait to get started.

"You do know this will still go fifty-five minutes even though we're starting late, right?"

He was disappointed and didn't try to hide it. "You take all the fun out of having your head shrunk."

Under her breath, she muttered, "We'll see." Out loud she said, "Tell me about your dreams."

The question made him uncomfortable, just as it always did. For over a week now he'd been telling her that he hadn't had even one nightmare or unsettling dream. And because it was highly unlikely that they'd stopped on their own, she figured he had to be taking something for sleep. A check with the Chief Medical Officer shot that idea down. He'd given Clint only enough Ambien for a week. That had been more than two weeks ago and he hadn't been back.

Clint's most recent evaluation scheduled for last week had been delayed by an inspection tour by the Counsel. She could still see Clint in his black uniform hands clasped behind his back standing with the rest of the senior agents. He'd looked so strong and fearless that it had been difficult to connect that Clint with the one in the psych ward or the one from years ago. If she didn't know his as well as she did, she wouldn't have known he was the same person. "How are you sleeping?"

"Good. Weird dreams, but no nightmares."

He was relaxed, a slight smile on his face as if he knew something she didn't or wanted her think he did. "So no trouble going to sleep at night?"

"Nope." Slicing a hand through the air to illustrate, he gave off an air of self-satisfaction and smugness. "Sleeping straight through."

"I just don't understand how that can be. Dreams bad enough to cause your breakdown wouldn't just stop like that. Just two weeks ago…"

The smile faded away though he kept his eyes on her. "You saw Natasha leaving my room."

Looking down at her lap, Naomi felt embarrassment at the reminder. "It's none of my business."

He reached out, faltered for a moment then gripped her hand. "Were you coming to see me?"

"Yes. I have some things of yours you might want back. They seemed important when we were…"

Shifting his hold on her hand, his fingers curled into her palm with his thumb touching her knuckles. She just let him hold onto her, enjoying being able to really feel his touch for the first time since the night after Serene and Donny's wedding. "All my stuff was brought from the apartment and I didn't see anything missing."

"I don't have them here. They're in my room." Now she did look at him. "One is a pendant. Not sure what the design means, where it came from or what it's made of."

He released her hand, puzzled. "It doesn't sound familiar. Sure it's mine?"

"Absolutely. You wore it the morning after Thanksgiving, but never told me the story behind it." Suddenly feeling awkward about bringing up those memories and that she was still aggravated that he'd confided in her mother, she cleared her throat. "How do you handle stress? Do you still run?

"Yeah. Run, work out, go to the range." he shrugged. "Same as years ago."

Naomi felt the pain and awkwardness of their shared past. It was the same for him, but they had to be able to discuss those events if either of them were to heal. Thinking about their trip to the archery range so many years ago, she spoke without thinking. "What about sex?" Clint didn't respond, just sat there blinking in astonishment. Flushing with embarrassment at what she'd just said she stumbled through an apology. "I…I'm sorry. That's not something I need to know. Unless, of course, you have a girlfriend like everyone says, and then it could get…awkward. Kind of like now."

He grinned once the shock wore off and she wanted to hit him for having fun at the expense of her dignity. Sitting back, he crossed his legs, one arm hanging over the back of the sofa. The very picture of calm and self-control with more than a hint of the bad boy she'd once known. "Alone or with a woman?"

Having just taken a drink to soothe her suddenly dry throat, Naomi choked. "Clint!"

"Just clarifying. Go ahead. Ask me anything."

Taking him at his word, she poised her pen to write. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"What you really wanna know is if Natasha and I are sleeping together." The cheeky grin softened into a smile. "Don't believe everything you hear." She waited for him to continue. "No. Nat and I have never been anything but partners and the best of friends."

She was relieved and trying not to show it. More relieved than she should be. "Since you're in a mood to share, just how long has it been since you've had sex?"

"Alone or with a woman?" This time she'd been ready for it and shot him an affable glare. He sighed and looked resigned. "With a woman, more than a year, but less than two. Alone…three weeks. You're not writing this down, are you?"

Surprised he would ask she looked up. "Of course. Let's move on. On your last mission…"

"You know, you've been asking all the questions. How about some Quid Pro Quo?"

By the look in his eyes, they wouldn't be going forward unless a few things were settled. Naomi set her pad aside and took a drink of water. "Fair enough."

She thought he would go right to asking about sex, again surprising her by saying, "You were married?"

"Yes. Isaiah. We married about three years after, uh… It was a mistake from the start though we did try to make it work. Couples counseling. In the end, we realized it was never going to be the happily ever after we both wanted. The divorce was final just over a year later."

"I'm sorry."

Shrugging, she took a sip of water. "He was a good man. Just not the one for me. He's married again and they have a son."

"Has there been anyone else? Boyfriend? Friend with bennies?"

~~O~~

Naomi snorted a laugh as Clint had meant her to. The atmosphere was getting a little heavy for his taste. "Yes, yes and no." She looked down and away as if she were thinking of something embarrassing. No, not embarrassing. She was self-conscious, but about what, he couldn't tell.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really. But you do deserve to know. Several years after my divorce, I started seeing an FBI agent. He'd just been transferred to the Chicago office and was the agent in charge of updating my security clearance."

Clint leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped between them. From her tone, he got the idea the answer would be significant. "Someone I know?"

She nodded, looking at him with that expression he'd come to know. The one that was looking for signs of amnesia for an event or individual. "Troy Bishop. We were together for a while though we didn't live together. It ended about a year ago when I caught him sleeping with his partner."

That Naomi had been seeing one of the agents who'd helped take down her stalker surprised him, but he kept it low-key. "Lewis?"

"No. Lewis left SHIELD to take a position as the chief of police in Trinidad, Colorado."

Clint couldn't help the grin that took up residence on his face. "The Sex Change Capital of the World?"

Naomi answered in kind. "Yes. And no, she didn't have gender reassignment surgery."

"That's a relief, 'cause she was hot!"

Naomi snorted, obviously uncomfortable with talking about her ex-boyfriend's infidelity. "Troy's partner's name was Shelby Lockwood."

"And not important to this conversation. Those sorry pieces of crap don't deserve to be remembered, especially by you." Her head came up at the vehemence in his statement. "Sorry. I have strong opinions on people who cheat."

His stomach did a little flip when she smiled. "You always did." She crossed her knees and rubbed her hands together. "I'm glad we had this talk."

"Me too. I know you asked as part of my treatment."

"And you asked to embarrass me." His head came up, eyes wide at her astute remark. "It's okay, Clint. Now that it's out of the way, maybe this…" she gestured between them, "…will get easier."

He chuckled. "Don't see that happening any time soon." The timer rang and they both got to their feet. "So what's the verdict, doc? Can I get back to my work detail?"

Naomi's thoughts chased each other across her beautiful features, and he knew it was because she let him see it. Then she nodded. "Of course. I'll send the necessary paperwork to Director Fury today."

"Thanks."

"We'll still continue the sessions for another week or two. If all goes well, we'll cut them back to twice a week then down to one. And hopefully, in a couple of months, we can stop them except on an as needed basis."

"Appreciate it. So three days? Same Bat Time, Same Bat Station?"

Again she laughed and the sound of it made him feel happiness for the first time since…well, since he couldn't remember when.

TBC