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

Thanks,

~Sandy

Avengers

From Time to Time

Chapter 15

Watching from the room at the end of the hall, Jacob waited until Iron Man and the other Avengers left the building before coming out of hiding. He'd been knocked unconscious with his squad and had come to just a short time later. His mother had always said he had a hard head and this proved it. He'd hidden from the Avengers as they searched the facility, his mind working furiously. How to get away without being spotted? It was unlikely that they'd leave the place unguarded and soon the compound would be overrun with a SHIELD sweeper team.

Making his way back to his quarters, he changed into a pair of worn jeans that hadn't been washed, hiking boots and an old plaid shirt. He mussed his hair, tore the shirt in several places then checked his look in the broken mirror over the sink. To pass himself off as an escaped prisoner, he needed more "evidence" that he'd been questioned. He remembered a movie he'd seen with his sister and her kids where Jim Carey's character had given himself a working over in order to postpone the divorce hearing of his client.

He punched himself in the face several times, splitting his lip and hopefully blackening his eye. But to be completely convincing, he needed more severe wounds. Bruised or cracked ribs would do it. Going down to the detention level, he examined his options. With today's forensic technology, he had to make it appear that he'd been beaten. The bruises he had from his last sparring session with the captain of the guards helped. Now onto the ribs.

Gritting his teeth, he threw himself at the arm of the chair. It hurt so bad it brought tears to his eyes, yet he'd have to do it again. And when he did, a cry was ripped from his throat that would surely have brought the SHIELD agents running if they hadn't left the building.

Now all that remained was for Jacob to present himself to the agents and play dumb. His climb to ground level was extremely painful, but worth it if they bought his story. He came up with a brainstorm as he neared the exit. Chunks of concrete were scattered over the floor amidst spent shell casings, bullet holes, blast marks and the still unconscious guards. He carefully bent over to pick up one of the smaller chunks and hit himself over the right eye just hard enough for there to be blood. When it dripped down onto his shirt, he was ready.

Stumbling out into the now fading sunlight, he moaned in pain to get the attention of the agents just returning. There were two women and a man with an eye patch. "Help! Someone help!" He collapsed just as they reached him, panting and groaning with every breath, yet they still looked at him with suspicion.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" This from the man with the patch. The infamous Nick Fury.

"Danny Larimore. I was hiking and these guys dressed all in black captured me, accused me of being a spy or something. I've been here for weeks! My mom and sister must be worried to death!" As if it were all too much for him, he sank to the ground, his elbow close to his side as he groaned in pain.

Fury glanced at the taller of the two women, she nodded and touched her headset. "Hill to Banner. We've got another patient for you." She listened for a moment. "Banner's on his way. Alston and Barton need additional medical attention so they'll be taken to the nearest hospital with a trauma center as soon as Banner's done here."

Fury nodded. "I've already called for the sweeper team. We'll take Mr. Larimore in the second trip." He looked down at Jacob, a small amount of kindness entering his expression. "You'll need to be debriefed."

Jacob waved a hand. "Whatever. As long as I can see a doctor."

The woman with the red hair had to be the infamous Black Widow and he tried not to flinch when she came close enough for him to see her Widow's Bites. Only two of the Taser-like devices remained and he counted himself lucky that she hadn't hit him as soon as he'd stepped outside.

He heard footsteps, and a man with dark hair and an anxious expression came to him, setting a first aid kit at his feet. As the doctor examined him, he congratulated himself on getting away with his ruse.

~~O~~

While Hill went through the preflight check list, Clint made sure that Dietrich was secured in the aft section so he couldn't get away and wouldn't be injured during the flight then checked on Alston. Banner had given him something for the pain or he'd passed out. Either way, the wounded FBI agent was asleep on the stretcher with an IV in the back of his left hand. Naomi crouched, tucking the blanket up around him then giving his hand a squeeze. Banner came up the ramp to her side and she gave him a questioning glance.

"He'll be fine. Just needs surgery to remove the bullet and make a few repairs. He'll be out of commission for a few weeks, flying a desk for a few more then back to work."

"Good."

There must've been something in her expression because Clint heard Banner say, "You okay?"

"Not sure. Dr. Banner…"

"Bruce, please."

"Bruce…" there was a long pause, then she spoke, her voice stunned, "…I almost killed someone today."

Clint kept his expression neutral while listening in on their conversation. Naomi would no doubt have questions for him later, but for now, she needed someone to talk to who could be objective. Someone who didn't have an emotional investment in her wellbeing beyond that of a doctor. "The important thing is you didn't. And from what I heard, you showed great restraint. Barton too." He slanted his eyes at Dietrich and back. "If he'd been saying those things about someone I cared about, he'd've had to deal with…the Other Guy."

"The Other Guy? Is that what you call…him?"

Banner shrugged sheepishly and smiled. "Since he's always there waiting for me to get angry enough to let him out, I had to deal with that fact without letting it ruin the lives of the people around me. And treating him like a separate personality is a way of coping."

Naomi nodded, and Clint knew she would be alright. It might take a while for her to come to terms with what she almost did today, but she'd be fine. Going to the front, Clint started to slip into the co-pilot's seat, but Hill shook her head. "I got this, Barton."

He frowned, his eyebrows drawing together over his nose. "You need a co-pilot and I'm all that's available."

"I don't need you passing out on me." As the turbines whined into their start-up sequence, Hill raised her voice to be heard. "Hey, doc. I need someone to side seat fly. Wanna take a crack at it?"

Banner's eyes widened with just a small amount of fear. Or was that excitement? Clint could seldom figure out what the scientist was thinking. "Uh, sure." He dropped into the right seat, slipped on the headset and buckled in.

With a smile in her voice, Hill told Banner, "Relax, doc. Won't be any shooting."

"Good." He didn't sound as if he believed her as he listened intently to her instructions.

Naomi had taken a seat on the port side of the ship, arms crossed, chewing on her lower lip. She was so deep in thought she jumped when he sat next to her and draped an arm around her shoulders. "You okay?"

She inhaled, held it then exhaled and shrugged, immediately turning into his embrace. He kissed her on the temple and laid his cheek against the top of her head. Her hand touched his chest and he covered it with his holding in a wince when she moved making his ribs hurt. They stayed just like that for a few minutes then she asked, "Those things he said…what if he's right?"

"He's not. You are smart, courageous, strong…" To show Naomi that he meant every word, Clint planted small kisses from her temple to her jaw and over to the corner of her mouth. "And very, very passionate." With a quick glance over Naomi's shoulder, Clint made sure that Dietrich was watching then turned her face to his and captured her lips. She moaned and slipped her hand around to the back of his neck, the fingers playing with the short hairs and making goose bumps pop out all over his skin. Her tongue touched his lips and he let her in. By the time they separated, they were both breathing heavy. "It was him, not you."

Sighing contentedly, she dropped her head back to his shoulder. The hand in his hair had come to rest on his side and it was all he could do not to react when she touched an especially sore spot.

"Clint?"

"Hmm?"

Pushing herself upright, Naomi scooted a little closer, her hand coming to rest on his thigh and giving it a slight squeeze. "You are even more amazing that I thought."

"Howzat?" He could feel the last of the adrenaline fading from his bloodstream leaving him with almost no energy. Rubbing a hand over his face, he let his eyelids close just for a moment and started to drift until she spoke again.

"By not letting Dietrich get to you. Staying in control no matter what he said."

Clint shrugged and shifted to get more comfortable, but it didn't help. Bruises he hadn't felt when they happened were starting to make themselves known though he wasn't sure if they were actual bruises or remembered pain from years ago. Naomi's voice became softer then stopped altogether when she fell asleep. Tightening his arm fractionally to let her know he would be here when she awoke, he let out his own sigh of contentment.

~~O~~

"…I know it's probably training for SHIELD or the circus, but still an admirable skill. And not to change the subject, or rather to get back to an old one, I think you're right. We should try again to make this work. I know you'll be too tired tonight, but how about I take you to dinner tomorrow night anywhere you want? Clint?"

Naomi sat up when a loud snore came from Clint's throat. His head had fallen back onto the headrest, his mouth open. Another snore came out making her snicker. She carefully lifted the now limp arm from around her shoulders, scooted off the seat and laid it in his lap. Giving him a loving smile, she went to check on Alston.

The FBI agent was still asleep, his right hand resting on his stomach and his head turned slightly toward her. Examining his features, she matched it with the memories from college, her psychologist's mind cataloging the differences. The biggest difference was in his attitude. In college, he'd been arrogant, pompous and condescending. Something had changed him beginning just after Clint had left. Not once since they'd met again had she caught him ogling her backside or talking to her chest instead of her eyes. In her experience, most heterosexual men will still window shop even if they don't plan to buy.

Getting to her feet again, Naomi didn't even think of glancing at Dietrich. He hadn't said a word since being brought onboard and that meant they agreed for the first time since shortly after they'd started dating. She approached the cockpit then changed her mind. Turning on her heel, she stomped into the rear compartment where he was buckled into a seat, his hand cuffed to an overhead bin.

"Wanna know why I stayed with you even after I knew you were sleeping with Shelby? For the stupidest reason of all. I was lonely for the company of a man. Not just for sex or falling in love, but to talk to, spend time with in social settings so I wouldn't be that one pathetic single woman sitting alone at company functions or at get-togethers with married friends." She paused to let Dietrich get a word in edgewise, but he just stared at her without blinking, a bland mask in place. Lifting her arms, she let them fall to slap against her thighs. "Why am I even telling you this? I don't have to explain myself to you or anyone else."

With a hiss of exasperation, Naomi turned away, coming back when he spoke. "If he cares about you so much, why didn't he look for you?"

"In his mind, he thought he was protecting me. And now that I know…" she waved her arms to encompass the ship and by extension all of SHIELD, "…everything, I understand his reasoning. Where he and I go from here is something we'll work out together. Maybe we'll end up a couple or maybe we won't, but it will be a mutual decision this time. Not one imposed by someone else's idea of right or wrong." She thought of her father and got annoyed all over again. Turning away from Dietrich, she headed for her original destination, sticking her head into the cockpit. "How you doing, Bruce?"

"You'd have to ask my instructor." Bruce nodded at Hill and the senior agent spared them both a quick glance and a smile.

"He's doing great. I could teach you to fly, doc."

"Ah…" He got a look of mild panic in his eyes just for a moment, "…not a good idea. Wouldn't want the Other Guy to get nervous."

Hill shrugged. "If you change your mind…"

The console beeped, signaling that they were approaching their destination and Bruce rushed to respond. "This is Delta five three calling St. Peter's Hospital."

"Delta five three, this is St. Peter's. What's your origin?"

"Classified, St. Peter's. Clear the landing pad. We have injuries and are on approach vector…" Bruce rattled off a string of numbers that meant nothing to Naomi. Bruce and the hospital talked back and forth until he finally convinced them that they did indeed have an injured man on board. "ETA five minutes."

When they landed on the ground level helipad, the slight jolt woke Clint. He'd slumped in his seat and scooted upright, a hand going to his side and wincing. Naomi stood in front of him, arms crossed. "You're hurt, aren't you?"

"Not really. Just some cuts and scrapes. A good night's sleep and I'll be fine." He flashed her an earnest smile. She didn't believe him, but he did make an effort and she appreciated it. Right now, their main concern was having Alston taken care of while making sure Dietrich didn't get away.

Leaving Hill to watch over the prisoner, Naomi, Clint and Banner followed the medics as they lifted Alston onto a stretcher and rolled him away. Inside, the emergency room was bustling with activity, a controlled chaos to anyone looking in from the outside.

Banner went to confer with their doctors while Naomi drew Clint to the waiting room and pushed him into a seat when he started questioning the doctor himself. Clint objected, but Naomi didn't let that stop her. He wanted to be involved every step of the way whether it caused an inconvenience for others or not so she removed him from the scene before he could annoy the doctors. "Let them work. They'll take good care of Trevor, I promise."

Hiding a yawn behind his fist, he scrunched down in his seat. "I'm just concerned that the FBI might lose a good agent."

Pursing her lips to keep from grinning, Naomi held his hand. "He's your friend, Clint. You're allowed to be worried about him."

All Clint did was shrug, cross his arms and stare at a place six inches in front of his nose. With an affectionate grin, she went down the hall to the ladies room. When she returned, Clint was pouring himself a cup of coffee. As he returned to his seat, he limped on his right leg, moving stiffly. In an unguarded moment, he winced and brought his right hand to his ribs. He doesn't have enough sense to say when he's hurt.

Naomi stood in front of Clint, and he paused in taking a sip from his cup, his eyes traveling from her waist up to her face where she let him see he'd been busted.

~~O~~

The moment Naomi appeared in front of him, he knew he'd been caught. Carefully setting the cup aside, he sat up as straight as he could to convince her she hadn't seen what she thought she'd seen, but she wasn't buying it.

"Stand up." That was her don't-mess-with-me voice and he found himself instinctively obeying. His ribs hurt so bad he could no longer turn side to side, yet he put on a smile that felt false even to him. "Take it off."

"Sorry?"

"Take your shirt off. Now, Barton."

A rhythmic tapping started, her heel hitting the floor as she waited for him to comply with her order and that look in her eyes said he wouldn't be able to talk his way out of this. With resignation, he shucked his jacket and lifted the shirt. "If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask."

A gasp that didn't come from Naomi had him searching for the source just as the head nurse came barreling toward them. "Mr. Barton, you said you hadn't been injured." The woman in blue scrubs took him by the arm. "It's not nice to lie, or didn't they teach you that way back in kindergarten?"

Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed him by the arm pulling him over to an empty bed and tossing him a gown. "Put that on. I'll be right back with your admission forms."

"I don't need…"

She cut him off before he could finish. "Yes, you do."

Prepared to accept the inevitable, he grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, but could only get it as far as his chest. "Ow! Damn!"

The curtain parted and Naomi joined him. "Let me help." With her assistance, he was able to get out of his shirt and pants and into the gown. "You lied again, Clint. I know it's your job, but not when your health is at risk."

"I'll be fine in a few days."

A different nurse came into the small enclosure with a clipboard. Naomi took it from her without a word, setting it on the table before helping him into bed and pulling the covers up to his chest. "Let the doctor be the judge." Taking the pen, she wrote his first and last name. "It's asking for your middle name." Out of habit when that question was asked, he dropped his eyes and mumbled. "Speak up."

"Francis." She snickered just as he knew she would, automatically reciting the rest of the personal information that would be needed. "Address, 1 Stark Plaza, New York. Phone number, 212-555-3846. Let me know when you get to surgeries and broken bones, 'cause that's a long list."

Huffing, Naomi pulled a chair over and sat down. "Why don't we just have SHIELD send the info?"

"Don't have my phone."

"Lucky I got one from the ship." Naomi stepped out of the curtained area to make the call. She was gone so long, Clint was just returning from the X-ray department when she stuck her head in again. "What's the verdict?"

~~O~~

Clint waited until the nurse left again before answering. "I'm fine. Just bruised."

He reached for his clothes, but Naomi held them out of his reach. "I'll just see what the doctor says, if it's all the same to you."

"It's not, but doesn't look like I have a choice."

"You don't." Instead of taking the chair, she perched on the side of the bed. "I forgot your birthday."

Shrugging, Clint shifted in his chair, making a face when his ribs twinged. "No big deal. There was too much going on to think about things that don't matter."

Holding out her hand, Naomi waited for Clint to take it then gripped it tight. "It is a big deal. But we were still getting used to being around each other and…"

"With all of my problems, celebrating birthdays was a trivial concern." He looked away, his eyes dropping to his lap, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Besides, your birthday is coming up soon. We'll do something special then."

"It's not until March, and I don't want to wait that long." Sliding off the bed, Naomi knelt beside him. "I want us to be us again, Clint. And I want both of us to remember all those past hurts as well as the joys because they've made us who we are."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah? What's that?"

"Older. Wiser. I've learned that the great thing about getting older is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been. You take them with you wherever you go, good or bad."

What happened next made Naomi's stomach drop because it was so out of character for Clint at any age. He raised her hand and kissed the back of her fingers before rubbing his cheek on the same spot, his beard tickling. In response, Naomi framed his face with both hands, leaning in to touch her lips to his.

"Really, Barton? Making out in a hospital? Ever hear of boundaries?"

Stark's voice intruded on their tender moment, his tone teasing and making Clint scoff. "Like you would know."

To keep herself from blushing at being caught kissing Clint, Naomi got to her feet. "I'll go see about getting your walking papers. I assume that's what you're here for, Tony. To give us a lift home."

"I sent Hill on ahead. Dietrich'll be kept in the containment chamber on the helicarrier until we decide what to do with him. There's a limo double parked so let's get a move on. It'll take you to the airfield where there's a private jet waiting to take you back to New York. I'm in the suit."

Nodding, Naomi left the two men to continue their bantering alone. When she returned, Clint was dressed again and Stark was gone. Clint climbed stiffly to his feet, bent slightly at the waist. She knew he wouldn't allow himself to be wheeled out so she just held his hand, trying not to fuss as he climbed into the limo's back seat and strapped on the seat belt with a lot of grunting and groaning. Once she was seated next to him, the driver closed the door, got behind the wheel, and pulled smoothly into traffic. They'd been on the road for just a few minutes when Clint reached for her hand. "Me too."

"Me too what?"

"I want us to be us again too."

She wanted his arm around her, but with his sore ribs it would be too painful so she just rested her head on his shoulder until the end of the ride, unable to stop smiling.

~~O~~

With Pepper in a teleconference, Stark found himself alone in the penthouse sipping thirty-year old scotch and staring at the night sky blurred by the rainstorm that had settled over the area. He thought about running on the treadmill or relaxing in the Jacuzzi, but neither appealed without Pepper. Maybe a movie. He dismissed that as well and just watched the rain fall until he began to get sleepy.

He set his glass on the bar and had just stepped inside the bedroom when JARVIS addressed him. "Excuse me, sir. There's a call for you from Agent Hill."

"Put her through." Taking out his phone, he looked into the camera, but didn't smile. "I was just about to get some much needed beauty sleep, so make it quick."

Hill's hair, usually pinned to the back of her head, hung loose around her shoulders. Instead of her all black uniform, she wore a long sleeved shirt of some kind and cargo pants. "Director Fury has called a team meeting for tomorrow at 0900 regarding the take-down of the Consortium. All of the Avengers except for Thor are expected to be there including Dr. Marks."

"Why can't we just teleconference? I'll jack in from the lab."

"No can do, Stark. This meeting is on the orders of the Council. And be on time."

The screen went dark and Stark just stared at it. "Well, that's gonna put a crimp in my plans." He poured another finger of scotch, downing it in one swallow. "JARVIS, where is everyone?"

"Agent Barton and Dr. Marks have just finished dinner, if you'd like to speak to them face to face."

"Not really, but that wouldn't make me a very good host, would it?" While he talked to the AI, Stark took the back way down to the apartment level.

"Captain Rogers is in the common area as is Agent Romanoff. Dr. Banner is asleep in his apartment and Thor is swimming laps." Thor preferred being on the gym level and Banner's apartment was near the labs though he frequently slept on the sofa.

Each apartment had a chime, but Clint had disconnected his, preferring the old fashioned method of knocking. Stark rapped his knuckles on the door, waited exactly three seconds, and knocked again, harder this time. "Hey, Legolas! I know you're in there and I'm not going away!" There was still no answer so Stark played his trump card. "JARVIS? Open the door."

"I'm sorry, sir, but Agent Barton has removed all of your override protocols for his personal residence. Shall I summon him for you?"

Stark's response was unrepeatable in mixed company. His tirade ended when the door opened.

~~O~~

Naomi quickly dried her hands then rushed through the apartment, Stark's voice coming to her as she got closer. When she opened the door, Stark had his fist raised to knock again. "Tony. Hey. What's up?"

"Where the hell is Barton? And how did he circumvent my override protocols?"

He started to go around her, but she stepped into his path. "Can't help you with that. And Clint's busy. Something I can do for you?"

Craning his neck, Stark tried looking over her shoulder like he didn't believe her. "Doing what?"

She knew the room behind her was empty because Clint really was busy. "Taking a shower." Splashing came though the bathroom door she'd accidentally left ajar. "Um, a bath. I mean he's drawing me a bath."

"Of course he is. Fury's called a meeting…"

"Naomi! Did you really have to use so much of that lavender bubble bath crap? And what are the candles for anyway? There's not enough light to read. Oh, and can you change the music? Maroon 5, Pink, something like that." Her stomach dropped the more Stark's smirk grew. It got worse when Clint called out, "And can you wash my back? My ribs are killing me!"

TBC