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

Thanks,

~Sandy

Avengers

From Time to Time

Chapter 7

Hours later Clint was still kicking himself for giving into his baser instincts. But to be fair, Naomi had done the same when she'd planted one on him the day before and again when she allowed him to kiss her.

And then there was waking up cuddled together. His subconscious had taken over while he slept and done what he'd wanted to do from the moment she'd come into his room at the hospital in Niagara Falls. He tried to tell himself that leaving her alone was the best for both of them. The hard part was believing. What he'd told Fury was the truth. He did still love her and always would, but being together for eternity wasn't an option. Or was it?

Going to the cooler provided by a local business, Clint took out a bottle of water and drank deeply. They'd finished demolishing the playground and the new wood had been delivered just before lunch. But first the ground had to be prepared and that would be done tomorrow. He was about to rejoin the others when his SHIELD issued phone vibrated against his backside. Digging it out, he scowled and swore at the message from Agent Hill. How could Fury be sending him on a mission now? And why? Naomi hadn't released him to full duty yet.

Approaching the group, he clapped his hands for attention. "Take a break! Twenty minutes."

The group scattered so fast he might've said "free beer." Shaking his head, he waited for Naomi to join him at the cooler, a bottle already in his hand and the top cracked open. "Fury's sending me on a mission."

"So soon? That was fast." She took a long drink, stalling it seemed. "I signed your release this morning. And no, it didn't have anything to do with what happened. If I didn't think you were ready, I'd never have signed off."

Clint was touched by her faith in him, and it made him feel guilty all over again. "Listen, when I get back from this mission, we have to talk."

"Good talk or bad talk?"

"Your call." He pulled a towel from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "I have to stop at Stark Tower on the way, if you'd like to meet the rest of the Avengers."

Naomi's eyes lit up. "Really? That would be great! I've only met the Black Widow and Iron Man."

Wincing, he waved a hand. "Just make sure you call them by their given names and not their alter ego."

She grinned impishly, batting her eyes. "Does that mean I can't call you Hawkeye?"

~~O~~

Clint opened his mouth to respond when raucous kids voices reached them just before their owners. They swarmed around Clint totally ignoring Naomi. The youngest, Sally, tugged at his pants leg. "Hawkeye, can ya show us some more circus stuff?"

Bending over so he was face to face with the little girl, Clint grinned. "You bet." By now the rest of the work crew had returned watching their interaction with amused curiosity. "We're gonna be done here soon, so go play for a little while."

A chorus of agreement went up around them as they took off running and laughing. Naomi covered her ears until they'd moved out of range. That she was shocked at Clint's behavior toward the kids bothered her. Everything she knew about him showed her that he would be great with kids. Well, she was about to see it firsthand.

They finished cleaning the play area and Clint sent the others on their way before stripping out of his jumpsuit. Following his lead, she did the same even down to going barefoot. That apparently was a signal for the kids because they came running. "Ready? Today were gonna do something different."

The new boy who'd been let in on the fun raised his hand. "Mr. Hawkeye, sir, was ya really in the circus? Vinnie said ya were, but I didn't believe 'im."

"What's your name, pal?"

"Owen."

Naomi's eyebrows together over her nose. The Clint she'd known would've taken exception to having his veracity questioned even by a child, but not this time, he touched the boy on the shoulder giving him a serious expression. "Well, Owen, it's true. I worked with three different circuses from the ages of twelve to eighteen. On stage, I was known as the Amazing Hawkeye."

Kenisha raised her hand. "Can you show us some day?"

"Sure." He clapped his hands. "So what about some juggling?"

He jogged over to the motorcycle they'd ridden in on, opened a concealed compartment and returned with a set of three matching balls, and for the next twenty minutes, he entertained the kids with juggling tricks. As an encore, he also pulled coins from the kids' ears. Naomi was just a little annoyed because the one time it had been mentioned years ago, he'd told her he was only mildly proficient at it. He'd either practiced a lot over the years, or he'd been lying about that too. Not that it mattered anymore. He seemed to get great joy not only out of working with the kids, but also from the sense of accomplishment that came with hard physical labor. It had been a factor in her decision to release him to full duty. A decision which had backfired on her when he was immediately assigned to a mission.

She was brought back to the present when Clint warned, "Remember. Do not try this on your own. I've been doing this for a very long time. It takes lots and lots of practice to learn and we use all kinds of safety equipment, none of which we have here."

"So when the center's all done, think ya can teach us to shoot?"

"You need permission from your parents first, but I don't see why not."

Naomi thought it was time she stepped in. "So what're you gonna show us now, Hawkeye?" When he looked over at her, she gave him some of his own back with a playful smirk. His answering smirk promised that she'd pay for that remark…and she did.

"I'm glad you asked. Kids, this is my good friend, Naomi. She's gonna help me with this next part. Everybody have a seat while she and I have a little meeting."

He drew her over to the motorcycle where the kids couldn't hear and she let him have it. "Clint, how could you put me on the spot like that? I don't know anything about…"

"You do. I've seen you dance and that's all acrobalancing is. A series of partner lifts combined with dance moves. Don't worry, you'll do great."

"Okay. Just don't drop me."

Her stomach did a little flip when he smiled and said, "Never. I know you're tired, so we'll only do a few. Just listen to me and hold the position until I say."

~~O~~

"Arabesque," Clint whispered in Naomi's ear. When she'd balanced on her right leg, the left stretched out behind her, he placed one hand on her ribs and the other on the inside edge of her upraised leg and lifted her above his head. "I'm going to throw you up so you flip over onto your back and catch you. Ready?"

Naomi nodded and the world spun crazily just before she landed in his arms. He put her on her feet again, leaving his hands on her waist. "Petit sissone, pirouette, plié, and lift."

He was glad she didn't question his directions as they ran though a few ballet type moves. "Jeté, arabesque then lean to the right." She performed the moves ending up to his right. He held onto her upraised foot and she leaned to her right then he pulled her back toward him, one hand under her arm, the other on the inside of her upper leg, lifting her into the air with her back arched. She rolled down the front of his body, right arm extended. He took her hand and led her into a series of pirouettes. "Back bend. Onto your back. Now do a bridge kickover then take my hand and curtsy."

Clint and Naomi finished to applause not only from the kids, but the adults who had stayed to watch. With a smile, Naomi whispered, "When did you see me dance?"

His own smile was in place with a hint of smugness around the edges. "A few days ago. Very nice."

"Thank you. Can we get something to eat now? I'm starving."

~~O~~

Clint parked the motorcycle in the garage of Stark Tower then led her to the elevators. They got out on the residential level where she followed him into a wide open area that boasted a wet bar, dining room, sitting area, fireplace, and from the scents drifting through the air, a full kitchen. The table was set with six places and soft music played in the background giving the place a warm, homey feel. A slender redhead dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt that looked too big for her walked toward them with a welcoming smile.

"Welcome back, Clint."

"Thanks. Dr. Naomi Marks, Pepper Potts. She's CEO of Stark International."

Pepper and Naomi shook hands. "I also play the part of Tony's conscience."

Naomi thought that an odd thing to say. "Pleasure to meet you. This place is amazing."

The others drifted over, fascinated by the fact that Hawkeye, the man who never let his emotions control him, had brought a woman to the unofficial Avengers headquarters.

Waving a hand at each, Clint made the rest of the introductions. "Thor, Captain Steve Rogers, Dr. Bruce Banner and you've already met Natasha." They shook hands all around. "Where's Stark?"

"He'll be up in a few minutes. He's just putting the finishing touches on a project." Pepper smiled enigmatically instantly making Clint wary to go by the change in his eye color. This Clint was different than the one she'd gotten to know when she first came to SHIELD. Probably because here, among his team, more of his Hawkeye persona came out. "Are the two of you staying the night?"

Pepper addressed the question to Naomi, but Clint answered. "Not this time. I have a mission briefing and Naomi has patients to see."

"Too bad. We're having Boeuf a la Bourguignonne with an absolutely fantastic Petit Sirah."

Clint smiled. "Did you make it or did Stark?"

Bruce stepped forward. "Actually, it was me, with Thor's help."

The big man smiled, his voice booming even when soft. "Yes. I found the experience to be quite enlightening."

"Sorry I'm gonna miss it." He turned to Naomi. "I just need a few things from my room." Nodding, Clint jogged through the living room and down the stairs to the left of the fireplace leaving Naomi alone with legends. Pepper went to the bar and the rest followed so Naomi went along, and soon they were all enjoying a glass of the Petit Sirah. And she was right. It was fantastic.

"So how do you know Clint, Naomi?"

Bruce wasn't being nosy. Just genuinely interested, and rather than belabor their past, she simply told him, "We went to NY Central together a long time ago."

Like a hot breeze, Stark blew into the room, commanding everyone's attention. "Dinner ready?" Then he spotted Naomi and just for a second, she cringed, remembering his reputation and their last encounter. He changed direction, coming over and taking her hand. "Welcome to Stark Tower, Dr. Marks."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"Tony." The billionaire barely paused for breath as he went to Pepper and gave her a kiss. "You're staying for dinner, of course."

Naomi started to answer, but Pepper beat her to it. "Clint has a mission, Tony."

Stark leaned on the edge of the bar, an air of boredom coming from him as if he'd already tired of the conversation. "Too bad. Banner and Point-Break slaved over a hot stove to make a fancy dinner for us tonight."

"Tony!"

Stark ignored her, one hand to the comm in his right ear indicating he had a call. To Naomi, he said, "Barton needs you. Down the stairs on the left."

That puzzled Naomi. Why would Clint need her help to pack? "Okay." She made her way across the plush carpeting and down the stairs to the only door on the left. It was standing open and through it she could see Clint packing a rifle into a case. Beside it sat his bow case, the same one she remembered from before. "Hey. What d'you need?"

"Sorry?"

"Tony said you needed me."

Clint opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get the chance. His door slammed shut and locked as did the balcony door.

~~O~~

"What the hell?" Clint ran to the door, but it wouldn't open. He took out his knife to pry the cover off the door controls, swearing when a jolt of electricity zapped him. "JARVIS, open the door!"

"I'm sorry, Agent Barton, but your command codes and protocols have been removed from my programming. I'm able to provide information and nothing else."

Naomi jumped at the sound of the AI's voice, sounding very apologetic, but Clint couldn't spare the time to explain just now. "I don't need information. Just open the ******* door!"

"As I previously stated, sir, it's not within my programming to do so."

Clint glared at the ceiling as if that were where JARVIS resided. "I wanna talk to Stark! Now!"

Instead of responding to Clint, JARVIS put him through to their host. "Get comfortable, Legolas because you're not leaving until you and your lady friend work things out."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Clint felt his blood pressure rising and took several deep breaths to calm down. "Look, just open the door and I promise not to kill you in your sleep."

"Not gonna happen."

Embarrassed on his and Naomi's behalves, Clint couldn't look at her. Not yet. "Stark…"

"Gotta go, Legolas. Dinner's gettin' cold. FYI - the air ducts are blocked just in case you try to escape. Oh, and Fury's been called about your mission. He's sending someone named Davis." And with that, the comm line was disconnected.

A sound from Naomi turned Clint around. She had both hands over her face and her shoulders were shaking. Taking a step toward her, he reached out a hand then drew it back without touching her. "Stark is an *******. I'll find a way to get us out." She didn't respond as she continued to tremble. "Naomi? Are you okay?"

Naomi dropped her hands as she faced him, and now he could see that she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

"You think this is funny?"

She nodded, finally getting herself under some level of control. "Ye-es!"

He stared at her as if she'd gone mad. And she did look a little crazed, laughing with tears streaming down her face as she collapsed on the side of the bed. After a while, he began to see the humor and chuckled along with her, taking a seat next to her. "You said you were hungry. I'll make dinner."

Naomi got to her feet, walking to the end of the bed. "Let me. I've actually learned how to cook."

Flopping backward and rolling onto his side, he rested his head on his hand, raised up on his elbow and grinned. "Will wonders never cease. Should I put the Med Bay on stand-by?"

"Ha. Ha. Where's the bathroom? I'd like to freshen up first." Getting to his feet, Clint showed her to the bathroom door

Both were still dressed in the shorts and T-shirts they'd worn under their jumpsuits. He felt grimy and knew she must as well. "Why don't you take a shower then I'll shower while you cook?"

"Good idea except that I don't have anything to wear."

Belatedly, Clint went to the dresser and took out a T-shirt and pajama pants with a draw string waistband. "You can sleep in these and in the morning we'll just have to figure out how to get Stark to let us out."

"You really think he'll keep us locked up in here all night?"

One side of his mouth lifted in wry humor. "I wouldn't put anything past Stark. He built the first Iron Man suit from scrap metal while being held prisoner in Afghanistan. And without him, Manhattan would be a radioactive crater and millions of people would be dead or dying from the fallout."

"I heard. He almost died. You all almost died."

"Yeah, well we didn't do it for the glory, the parades or to have our names up in lights. We were defending our planet. That's a great motivator."

Naomi's stomach growled breaking the tension. With a smile, she went into the bathroom and moments later, the water came on. Rather than think about her in his bathroom, naked and wet, he rushed around the room gathering up all the weapons he'd hidden stashing them in the wall safe, except for the one still nestled in the small of his back. That one he hid in the end table farthest from the kitchen so he would have ready access during the night in case Stark made the monumental mistake of coming into the room while they were sleeping.

Then Clint went to the refrigerator and found that it had been stocked with supplies as had the cabinets. There was enough food to last them a week. Exactly what did Stark think this would accomplish? The two of them had already come to a sort of understanding. It wasn't perfect, but it worked for them.

To keep from dwelling on it, he jumped up on the bed and opened the vent, and just as Stark had said, it was blocked though air still circulated. He found the same thing in the other vents as well. Going to the main door, he pulled the cover off the controls, but when he attempted to bypass the lock he received enough of an electrical shock to discourage him from trying again. Next he tried the balcony doors, but encountered the same problem. Briefly, he considered shooting out the windows then climbing up to the helipad and using the rail gun on the helijet to shoot Stark, but already knew that would be futile.

Out of ideas for now, Clint took a T-shirt and pajama bottoms from the drawer and tossed them on the foot of the bed before pulling off his boots and moaning in relief as he wiggled his toes in the thick pile of the carpet. He lay back on the bed and was about to go to sleep when the shower shut off reminding him that Naomi had been locked in here with him.

And because of that, he was having all sorts of…ideas. Ideas he shouldn't be having. Not that they were wrong. He and Naomi were both unattached adults, but they didn't have the same relationship they had before. However, if they did this right, they could have something almost as good: a strong friendship. Different than the one he had with Natasha of course, but one to be treasured just as much. And all he had to do is keep Naomi from finding out that he was still in love with her. He'd been kicking himself for confessing to her father though he doubted Fury would mention it.

Naomi came out of the bathroom, her hair damp, looking as if she felt better and looking incredibly sexy in his clothes. "Dinner won't be anything fancy."

"Anything will be fine."

~~O~~

Naomi opened cabinets and the refrigerator finding everything she needed to make and enchilada casserole. She didn't normally use canned sauce, but whoever had done the shopping obviously took shortcuts now and then. Same with the refried beans. Or maybe Clint just wanted to be able to make a quick and easy meal sometimes.

She took out the refried beans, a can of corn and tomato sauce, and set them aside. From the refrigerator, she took the ground beef, salsa, shredded Cheddar cheese, a bell pepper, and flour tortillas.

Opening the cabinet over the stove, she took down a round casserole dish. A crockpot was jammed in with it, shifting when the baking dish was removed. There was a clunk that sounded nothing like glass hitting ceramic so she took down the crockpot and peered inside, her forehead crinkling in puzzlement. She kept it out, but put it out of her way while she worked making a note to speak to Clint later.

Because the kitchen was set up with ease of access for Clint's left-handedness, working was just a little awkward, but Naomi managed, and by the time Clint came out of the bathroom, she was in the process of "assembling" the casserole. She finished it off by sprinkling the top with the remainder of the cheese then put it in the oven and setting the timer just as Clint joined her. "It'll be ready in about twenty minutes."

"Good." He must've seen something in her eyes because he asked, "What's wrong?"

Going to the crockpot, she removed the lid and took out a Berretta. "How long have you been hiding guns in crockpots?"

To her surprise, he snickered, giving her one of his most distracting smiles. "Where do you think I hid it back in college when you came over unannounced?"

She laughed along with him. "Clever. I'd never have thought to look there."

"The first time, I used it because it was available. After that, it just became habit."

To open the cabinet with the glasses, she had to reach around him, but he refused to move out of the way. Choosing instead to give her another of those mischievous smiles, the one she'd fallen in love with so long ago. Unfortunately, or fortunately-she couldn't decide which-it still made her stomach flip over. She looked away suddenly shy and awkward with them in such close proximity. Taking down plates prompted him to act and he finally moved away enough that she could breathe again.

He carried the plates, napkins and silverware to the table while Naomi poured them each a glass of wine. While he'd been in the bathroom, she'd gotten a text from Dr. Rivera regarding Clint's blood work meaning they had to have a serious talk tonight and not about their relationship.

The timer dinged, but before she could act on it, Clint was there with oven mitts taking the casserole from the oven. She carried a trivet and serving spoon to the table and took her seat on the side leaving the end of the table for him, the host.

Not wanting to ask him to join her in saying grace, she briefly closed her eyes and thanked the Lord for the food and the continued good fortune of her family, friends and her planet. Her eyes flew open when Clint softly whispered "amen." She didn't say anything about this unexpected moment of spirituality they shared.

Clint scooped up a generous serving of the enchilada casserole and plopped it on her plate then served himself, all the while watching her with a wary eye. He always did know when there was something on her mind, and today was no different. "I received a text from Dr. Rivera."

"Oh?" Dropping his eyes to his plate, he chewed while pushing the rest of the food around with his fork.

"Where'd you get it?" A long sigh told her he would be telling her the truth, and that was good because if he lied to her now, there would be no way she could ever trust him again.

"I have a contact from an ongoing op. She provides a specific type of product for those in the community who don't have access to certain medications."

"And that's where you got the Ambien?"

He nodded. "It showed in my blood work, didn't it?"

Naomi took another bite of food, chewed and swallowed before answering. "Yes. I knew you wanted to get back to work, but didn't think you'd stoop this low to get your way."

"I had to get back to the community center. To get back to work. That neighborhood has so little left after the invasion, sleeping in shelters or the homes of strangers that were opened to them. They need a safe place where they could go and know that things wouldn't always be so…dismal. I may not be able to give back the lives I took, but maybe, in some small way, this will give someone a chance at a better life."

Setting her fork down, she placed her hand over his so he would look at her. "If you'd told me this in the beginning, I would've understood. Going forward, just remember that there are two people you should never lie to. Your lawyer and your doctor. I won't rescind your release, but you cannot lie to me again, Clint. Not about anything."

Turning his hand over, he gripped hers tight before releasing it. "I won't." He gave himself a second serving, taking a huge bite before speaking again. "This is really good."

Letting herself be charmed by his smile, Naomi reached for her wine. "Just because I didn't know how to cook didn't mean I couldn't learn. I'm Italian. It's a cultural rule."

His smile still in place, he asked, "Should I ask for page numbers and paragraphs?"

"It's an unwritten rule. Like that carny's handbook of yours."

Chuckling, he used his napkin to wipe his mouth. "You almost bought it though, didn't you?"

"Not really. But I did think you were having fun at my expense with the talk about tightropes and the trapeze. Now I know differently." Relaxing back in his seat, he kept his eyes on her most of the time, though they did dart around the room, out of habit it seemed. But it was that guardedness that had kept him alive in the appalling and disastrous recent circumstances. Some habits were hard to break, even in your own home where you should feel a sense of safety and well-being.

Once he retired, she expected that he'd do the same for many years afterward. Always certain that danger was lurking at the door waiting to pounce when you least expected it. His smile changed, turned pensive as he folded his napkin and set it on the table. Luckily she didn't have long to wait to hear his thoughts. "Maybe Stark is right. We do need to figure this out. Stop dancing around each other as if we were on the worst first date ever."

To give herself time to calm her spinning thoughts, Naomi finished her wine then set the glass very carefully back in the exact same spot. "What do you suggest?"

"Start over. Go back to the beginning and leave all those past hurts where they belong. In the past. We can still talk about those intervening years, but let the anger and resentment go."

Naomi couldn't hide her shock and apparently he found the look on her face amusing because he smiled again. "You have changed."

Shaking his head, he picked up his water glass and took a drink before continuing. "It's something I've learned in the last few months."

"So your time with Loki wasn't a complete fiasco."

"Wasn't talking about Loki." Suddenly, he leaned forward taking her hand in his and just holding it. "It was you." She didn't know what to say to that so she said nothing, just waited for him to make the next move. Again, he released her and when he stood, she did too, his right hand taking hers as if they'd just met. "Hi. I'm Clint Barton."

When he said go back to the beginning, he'd meant it. "Naomi Marks. Barton, you say? You look just like someone I knew a long time ago, but his name was Coulson."

"And I knew a woman who looked like you years ago, but her name was DeLuca." His eyebrows lifted as his eyes locked on hers with an intensity she hadn't experienced in a long time. "She was hot!"

"Oh? And what about now?"

Holding onto her hand, he drew her into his embrace. "She is even more beautiful now than she was then." Tears stung the back of her eyes at the sweetness of his tone and the darkening of his eyes as he lowered his head to kiss her.

~~O~~

Though Clint wanted to take their new relationship to its natural conclusion, he didn't. Instead, he led Naomi to the sofa and urged her to sit while he went to the closet, coming back with his guitar.

"Didn't know you played."

"Used to. Picked it up again during my recovery. The physical therapist suggested it and the juggling to restore dexterity in my hands and arms." He tuned the instrument then began to play the soft opening strains of an old Billy Joel tune.

~~O~~

Naomi curled up on the sofa while Clint sat at the opposite end. The tune he chose was familiar. New York State of Mind. It had been one of her mother's favorites while she was growing up. Clint's voice had a bluesy quality that fit him and the way he felt about himself and his life. The song also told her more than he ever could about his commitment to making New York City whole again. Her eyes closed as the music flowed, her body absorbing the emotion and craving for strength in the face of unspeakable odds that came out in his voice.

Some folks like to get away,
Take a holiday from the neighborhood.
Hop a flight to Miami Beach or to Hollywood.
But I'm takin' a Greyhound on the Hudson River line.
I'm in a New York state of mind.

The last note faded away and still she kept her eyes closed. Her concentration was such that she didn't know Clint had set the guitar aside until he came to sit next to her, his arm around her shoulders. Without thinking, she snuggled into his embrace.

TBC

A/N: "New York State of Mind" is a song written by Billy Joel which initially appeared on the album Turnstiles in 1976. Although it was never a hit song and was never released as a single, it has become a fan favorite and a song that Joel plays regularly in concert. Joel famously played the song at The Concert for New York City, the October 2001 benefit concert for the New York City Fire and Police Departments and the loved ones of families of first responders lost during the terrorist attack on New York City on 9/11. He reprised that theme, playing it during his set at 12-12-12, The Concert for Sandy Relief at Madison Square Gardens in New York City on December, 12, 2012, where he changed lyrics to include cities like "Breezy Point."

The author's favorite version is by Jeremy Renner performed on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Ping me and I'll send the link.

~Sandy