Avengers

From Time to Time

Chapter 16

Stark grinned with the knowledge that he was in possession of information that some would pay handsomely for. Not that he would take that sort of advantage, but he did enjoy the teasing. "Well, well. Now I know what to get Legolas for Christmas. I'm sure you 'ladies' would enjoy an all-expense paid trip to The Hills Spa and Resort in Aruba. Seven fun-filled days of pampering for the mind, body and soul."

"We aren't…He's not…What I mean is…crap!" Naomi sighed, realizing she couldn't talk her way out of this. Raising her voice, she called out, "Be right there, Clint!" To Stark she said, "Not a word to the others. Please?"

Still with that smirk and more than a hint of mischievousness in his brown eyes, Stark rubbed the back of his head. "I'd say yes, but we both know it's not gonna happen." He looked over her shoulder, raising his voice to be heard over the music. "Hey, Legolas. Team breakfast meeting with Fury. Oh nine hundred. Bring your appetite. Leave the rubber duck." With a wave, he hustled to the end of the hall and disappeared up the stairs.

None of the Avengers trusted easily though they had learned to trust each other implicitly during the fight to save the Earth. And all but Banner had someone special they could turn to in times of trouble. Naomi just hoped that Clint didn't regret trusting her when his teammates started poking fun at him for taking a lavender-scented bath.

"How did Stark know I was in the tub?"

She pushed open the bathroom door, shut off the music and blew out the candles. "He heard you. And the candles, music and lavender were to help you relax. Guess it didn't work for you as much as it does me."

"Crap! I'm gonna get razzed tomorrow." He said it wearily knowing that Stark would always take the opportunity to bait one of his friends.

Before getting into the tub Clint had shaved off the beard for which Naomi was grateful. She preferred him clean shaven, but understood the need to play a role when on a mission. She resisted touching his cheek as he rested his head against the folded towel she'd hung over the end of the clawfoot tub and closed his eyes.

The tub itself was bright white and more than big enough for two. The faucet, handles and a hand-held water massage were in the center of the side facing the wall. In the corner stood a shower enclosure, the frosted glass doors without design, just the way Clint liked it. The cabinets were antique white and the oval mirror was surrounded by an antique frame. In fact, the entire apartment had the feel of a warehouse converted into condos with exposed pipes and a skylight, the modern appliances all in chrome to keep the illusion alive.

When Naomi first saw it, she thought Clint had designed the apartment himself, but that hadn't been the case. The decorator Stark had hired possessed an uncanny ability to discern what the occupant really wanted underneath what they said they wanted and had made it work for all of the Avengers, according to Natasha.

That the Russian had been in Clint's apartment and he in hers wasn't surprising and didn't stir even the slightest bit of jealousy in Naomi. She'd seen the two of them interacting, seeing only a strong bond of friendship and the genuine affection that knowing each other so well brought to the mix.

Kneeling beside the tub, she lathered the washcloth and gently washed his back, chest arms and legs. When she was done, Clint's breathing had evened out and he appeared to be asleep. She would've left him, but he couldn't sleep here or he'd hurt even worse in the morning.

Tugging on the chain attached to the plug, she hung it over the side as the water drained. The last bit gurgled as it disappeared, startling Clint. Looking at her blearily, he rubbed a hand over his face and yawned. Standing, she reached for one of the soft, fluffy bath towels hanging next to the sink and held it open. "Come on. Bed time for you, Hawkeye."

Clint grasped the sides of the tub, but wasn't able to lift himself higher than a few inches before his ribs complained. "Ow! Crap!" He looked at her, his eyes filled with embarrassment. "Uh…a little help here."

"Poor thing." Naomi tossed the towel on the counter then got her hands under his arms. "On three. One, two, three." She lifted at the same time he pushed up on the sides until he was able to get his feet under him.

He stepped out onto the bath mat, taking the towel from the counter and wrapping it around his waist, giving her an affectionate smile. "Thanks."

Placing her hands gently on his shoulders, she reached up to kiss him. "It's the least I can do for the man I love." Clint's sharp intake of breath and his hands tightening on her waist startled her. She hadn't meant to announce it like that. However, the delighted sparkle in his blue-gray eyes told her it had been the right thing to say. Her eyes stayed on his letting him see that she meant every word. She did love him, and had even during the bad times when they'd both tried to move on with their lives.

His calloused hands trailed over her arms and shoulders then up to frame her face with his palms. "That's good, because I love you too." Her stomach did a flip when he stroked his thumbs along her cheekbones. "Just out of curiosity, when did you know this time?"

Careful not to touch his sore ribs, Naomi rested her hands on Clint's waist. "The moment I saw you in the hospital. You were facing away from me pouring a glass of water, and I just knew. What about you?"

"The moment you said my name. I didn't even have to see you to know that I'd do whatever it took for us to be together again." Her fingers flexed against his waist, the pinkies touching the top edge of the towel as they looked deep into each other's eyes for a moment both laughing at the picture he portrayed. "Falling in love in a psych ward. We are messed up!"

Stepping out of his loose embrace, Naomi urged him into the bedroom. "It'll make a great story for…your memoirs." Again she'd almost spoken without thinking. What she almost said was "It'll be a great story for our children" when she had no idea if he even wanted children. He didn't say anything so she let it go, helped him get his pajamas on then into bed, pulling the covers up to his chest.

Before she could leave, he grasped her hand. "Aren't you going to join me?"

Though she wanted to, what he needed was rest, not her jostling him about during the night. "My brain is still whirling so I'm just gonna have a cup of tea and read for a bit."

Her excuse fell on deaf ears because Clint had already gone to sleep. She brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead, turned out the lamp and tiptoed into the kitchen to make the tea. On the end table closest to the kitchen she found a copy of Great Expectations. There were no other books or magazines so she settled in the corner, feet tucked under and covered herself with the colorful afghan that had been thrown over the back. Sipping the tea, she opened to the first page.

"My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.

"I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his tombstone and my sister - Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the blacksmith. As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness of either of them (for their days were long before the days of photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like, were unreasonably derived from their tombstones…"

By the time she'd reached the end of the first page, Naomi too had succumbed to the lure of that sweet oblivion called sleep. She scooted down onto her back, the book still open on her chest. In her sleep, she rolled to her side and the book fell to the floor with a thump without being heard by either of the apartment's occupants.

~~O~~

As Stark reached the top of the stairs, he remembered that JARVIS had said Natasha and Rogers were in the common area, but the lights were out and they were nowhere to be seen. He crossed the enormous expanse of the room toward the penthouse deciding to leave them a wake-up call with JARVIS for the morning.

Like all the rooms in the tower, Stark knew this one like the back of his hand and didn't need to turn on the lights, though he did wonder where Rogers and Natasha were. He'd gotten to the middle of the room with a sound caught his attention. Moving in the direction it had come from, he peered over the back of the sofa, his eyes widening as he quickly backed up and darted into the penthouse, shuddering as he made his escape. "I will never be able to unsee that!"

~~O~~

Once Stark had left the room, Natasha lifted her head and glared in the billionaire's direction, the recessed lighting more than enough for her to see by. Her hair was mussed, she was panting as if she'd just finished running the Boston Marathon and her clothes were rumpled.

Steve raised up on his elbows, a frown crossing his handsome features. "What is it?" His voice was husky with longing and he too was panting. The front of his shirt was open and partially pulled from the waistband of his pants.

With a smile, Natasha pushed him onto his back and resumed her place draped over his torso, her knees on either side of his hips, hands foraging in his hair. "Nothing. Don't stop!"

Before he could follow her order, she attacked his lips with hers once more, and he returned the favor. Nearly an hour later, Natasha walked beside Steve, his arm around her shoulders holding her close to his side. When they reached her door, she looked up at him, answering his smile with one of her own. He moved faster than the eye could see, and she could've stopped him from pressing her up against the wall and kissing her senseless, but she didn't want to. She enjoyed kissing him just as he enjoyed kissing her.

Steve pulled his lips from hers just far enough to whisper, "Natasha…" then stepped back to let her go. She kept hold of his hand as she opened the door and went inside, holding on as long as possible until just their fingertips touched.

~~O~~

Clint awoke with a start, at first not knowing where he was. Then the pain reasserted itself and the day's events came back to him. Had it really only been twenty-four hours? A glance at the clock gave him his answer. It was just over that since he'd been captured by the Consortium again. Only this time they'd also taken a friend and the woman he loved. The other side of the bed was empty making him feel sad that it had only been filled by Naomi's presence in the last few days.

Tossing the covers aside, he sat up on the side of the bed groaning in pain. He had to admit that the bath had done wonders for his sore muscles. However, the inactivity of sleep had stiffened them again. Going to the bathroom, he took down the bottle of ibuprofen and swallowed four with water then went searching for Naomi.

He found her on the sofa curled up and covered with that crazy afghan that Pepper had given him for his birthday. She'd been the only person to remember, and he'd been touched, though he didn't fault anyone else for forgetting. The rebuilding of New York took precedence. He could celebrate his birthday any time. Something that others, like Phil Coulson and all the other agents that were killed during his time with Loki, wouldn't get to do. He'd finally come to terms with the fact that there was no way he could've kept the Asgardian from invading his mind, but that didn't stop the guilt completely. It just took the edge off.

Touching Naomi's shoulder, Clint gently shook her until she opened her eyes. Without a word, he took her by the hand and led her to his bed, now their bed because they would be spending every night that he wasn't on a mission together, here or in their own place. It didn't matter as long as he could wake up in the night and hear her sleeping beside him, able to touch her and know that she loved him.

When they slept together like this, he preferred to have her pressed against his chest. But the doctor at the hospital had instructed him to sleep on his injured side to make breathing easier. Even in her sleepy state Naomi must have remembered that advice because as soon as he lay down, she urged him onto his right side then spooned him from behind, her face nestled into the curve of his neck and shoulder. She slipped her arm around him, letting out a long sigh before going back to sleep. He followed her moments later.

~~O~~

Standing at the head of the table, Fury started the meeting without greeting the attendees. "As you all know, Stark downloaded the Consortium's database before destroying it. New information has come to light that blows our plans for that data out of the water."

Though it had to be a shock, Stark showed nothing. His expression never changed. "Nothing was wrong with the data. I checked it out myself after the download."

Arms crossed, Fury glared with his one good eye. "As did our cyber-crimes department. However, a virus was imbedded deep into the coding that was tripped when they began their analysis destroying every last gigabyte including the account numbers to the offshore bank accounts."

Stark leaned back in his chair, a finger tapping his lips in thought. "I have those account numbers memorized and checked them myself last night after I got Hill's call. They're wiped out. Empty."

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a fox in the proverbial henhouse. Any guesses as to the identity?"

"Danny Larimore." Naomi had been looking at the table top until she noticed that the eyes of everyone were on her. "His escape was too convenient. There were only four cells in the detention area, one of which was empty, and none of us had a roommate."

Natasha swiveled her chair around to face Fury. "I agree. Hill and I did a thorough search and found no one."

Steve, who had taken a seat as far from Natasha as he could, asked, "Where is he now?"

Shifting in her seat, Hill folded her hands together in front of her. "We had to let him go. We checked him out so thoroughly, we know more about him than his mother and sister do. He and a friend, David Phelps, had gone to Satisfaction to go hiking. The first day out, Phelps sprained an ankle a couple of hours into the hike so Larimore goes on alone at Phelps' insistence. Phelps made it back to their hotel and when his friend didn't return by the next day, he reported him missing. A search was made, but there's a lot of ground to cover. He was never found and it was assumed that he'd been killed by a bear or one of the large cats that roam the area."

Banner snorted. "All this time he's been assumed dead and he was right there working for the same guys who detained him. He really had it figured out, didn't he?"

"Apparently." Fury was none too happy with the turn of events. "The problem is he's in the wind. We put him on a plane for home and that's the last anyone's seen of him."

The Avengers, Hill and Fury debated the situation for a while longer then the meeting broke up. As Naomi reached the door, Fury called to her, "Dr. Marks. A few words please."

"Of course, Director." She came back to the table and he motioned her to the chair next to him so they were now face to face.

"I didn't get a chance to say this before. You handled yourself well during the incident with the Consortium. Well done."

"Incident?! That's what you call it when three people, all government employees, two of them highly skilled agents, are kidnapped and subjected to interrogation, threats and intimidation? Those men hunted Trevor and Clint like they were animals."

When she stopped for breath, Fury interrupted. "It wasn't meant to minimize the emotional and physical pain you, Alston and Barton suffered at the hands of that maniac. It was simply an expedient term."

"Look, Director Fury…" her tone said she was gearing up for another argument and he wanted to end it before it grew wings and took off.

"Nick."

His daughter's eyes went very wide and her mouth dropped open then snapped shut again. "Excuse me?"

"Call me Nick. We're not to the point of 'Father' yet, and who knows if we'll ever get there, but we're not just co-workers, either."

She stared at him for a full thirty seconds before her frown eased into a small smile. "Okay. Nick."

"And I didn't ask you to stay to talk shop." Reaching under the table, he took out an old black case and rubbed his thumb over the scanner to open it. He took out several old fashioned photo albums. "I wanted to show you these."

Naomi picked up the first one, but didn't open it. "What are they?"

"Agent Barton would call them proof that the Director of SHIELD has a heart." He gestured at the album in her hands. "Please. Open it."

And while his daughter slowly turned the pages, Fury walked to the window and stared out at the morning sun glistening off the water.

~~O~~

After the meeting was adjourned, Clint made his way to the Mess Hall to wait for Naomi. He would be on restricted duty for at least a week.

At the next table, Kripke stared into his coffee cup, occasionally glancing over at Hill sitting with Natasha. The women had their heads over a tablet between them, nodding and talking intently. He knew it was Hill Kripke was watching because he'd never shown that same interest in Natasha before. "Just ask her out."

The other agent shot him a glare. "What're you talking about?"

"Hill. Ask her out."

"I…" Kripke sighed. "What if she says no? Guys hit on her all the time and she shuts 'em down. I don't wanna end up in the pile of rejects with all the others."

Clint hid a grin behind his cup. "Then you need a line that's original. Something no other man has ever said to her. When you see her, what's the first thing you think of?"

Kripke looked embarrassed. "Her smile. It makes me feel weak in the knees."

"Then say 'you have a smile that would drop a man to his knees.'"

"Really? What if she thinks it's corny or lame? What if she thinks I'm joking? What if…?"

Clint's expression turned serious. "Say it and mean it."

"But I'm not good at that. Whenever I try to talk to her about something other than work, I get all tongue tied."

"Don't let her intimidate you. She's good at that. Stand firm and be persistent. Just not to the point where you're stalking her." Movement from Hill's table drew the attention of both men. "Natasha's leaving. Go!"

Kripke downed the rest of his coffee and got to his feet. He ran a hand through his military short hair and walked purposefully over to Hill's table. She looked up and smiled in that bland way she had until Kripke reached out and took her hand, holding it gently but firmly when she tried to pull away. He leaned close and all Clint could see was Hill's expression.

First her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement, then her eyes widened in shock, her mouth dropping open. The shock gave way to a light blush as she nodded for Kripke to join her.

Natasha slid into a chair next to him, a knowing grin displayed. "Who would've thought Clint Barton was a hopeless romantic?"

Returning her grin, Clint sat back in his chair holding in a wince at the twinge in his ribs. "Not hopeless. Hopeful. Speaking of which, congratulations."

"On what?"

"You and Rogers finally making it official."

The grin gave way to a scowl. "Making what official?" Clint's grin turned into a full on smirk as one eyebrow lifted and for one of the few times since he'd known the Black Widow, she was flustered. "How did you…"

"Tasha, I know you. Besides, you're glowing." The smirk faded as he wrapped his hand around hers lying on the table. "You wouldn't jump into bed without a giving it a great deal of thought and Rogers is from a time when a man courted the woman he had the hots for. They didn't cross those lines until they were sure." Clint tilted his head to the side, looking at her with the affection of a big brother. "And I know how persuasive you can be when you really want something."

Instead of responding to the bait, Natasha stole his cup and drank the last of the coffee. "What about you?"

"What about me what?"

Grinning, Natasha nudged him with her elbow reminding him of when she'd released him from the restraints following her own prescription for eradicating Loki's influence whether it had been her intent or not. "You and Naomi seem to have worked out your differences."

Again he shrugged. "It's an on-going process. Should be done in sixty or seventy years. Maybe more." Clint went to refill his cup and brought one for Natasha so she wouldn't steal his again. "Does Rogers know about…?"

"It's so new…we don't even know what this is yet." She twisted her cup, glancing over to where Hill and Kripke had their heads close together, talking and laughing over who knew what. One shoulder twitched, her eyes on the tabletop.

"You don't need me to tell you the right thing to do."

Her red hair bounced as she shook her head. She got to her feet. "One reason I stopped by was to tell you we're taking down some of the Consortium's retired and semi-retired members. Thought you might wanna join us for the first few."

"Why's that?"

"What you remembered paid off. Our first stop is Trinidad, Colorado."

~~O~~

Sitting in her office, Naomi couldn't summon the motivation to work. All she could think about was what had happened in the private meeting she'd just had with her father. He'd shown her proof of having been there for every significant event in her life, even if she hadn't known at the time. Granted, with the resources of SHIELD at his disposal, he could've faked the photos and programs. But some of what she'd seen couldn't be faked. He'd made notations next to most of the photos. One such note said, "Gina wearing the necklace I gave her when Naomi was born." That detail wasn't noticeable from the photos. And her first ballet recital. It had rained that night and the program she'd seen carefully pressed between the pages of the album had been stained, the ink blurred where drops had landed. Naomi looked up when her door opened and Clint stepped inside.

"You didn't answer so I used my override. You okay?"

As if moving through molasses, Naomi tilted her head to look at him. "Uh, no. Not really. What's up?"

He came around the desk and perched on the corner. "How would you like to help take down some bad guys?"

That piqued her interest driving out the revelations from her father, at least for now. "Really?" She pushed away from the desk and got to her feet. "Let's go!"

"You'll need to dress the part. Let's hit the supply office and get you a uniform then we'll go to the armory for a weapon on one condition." He held up a finger.

"And that is?"

His smile turned serious again. "You have to do what I say when I say it. No arguments. Yes?"

Naomi nodded reluctantly then gave him a wicked grin. "Can I get a thigh holster?"

"We're transitioning over to hip and arm holsters." Waiting a beat while he held onto her upper arms, he winked. "But I think I have an extra one you can borrow."

"Mmm. Works for me." He kissed her once before leading her out of the office and into the lift. His phone beeped. Using his thumb, he scrolled through the information and some of his good humor faded. "Something wrong?"

He gave a quick head shake. "Just confirmation of something I remembered. Our first stop is Trinidad, Colorado. We'll coordinate with the chief of police to pick up George."

"Sounds like a plan. George?"

The lift opened and they stepped out before he answered. "Yeah. When I was a prisoner of the Consortium, I had the same two interrogators. I called them Tiny and George. When everything came back, I remembered where and when I'd seen Tiny recently. And through careful scrutiny of her phone and Internet records, we were led to George, so we're picking them both up. We've also got lines on a few others."

"Good." They arrived at the supply office, coming out a few minutes later with a black formfitting SHIELD uniform in Naomi's size. "When are we leaving?"

"One hour on the flight deck." He dropped an arm around her shoulders. "What say we take a few days after this? Just you and me. No distractions."

Naomi thought about the work that had piled up while she, Clint and Alston had been prisoners and almost groaned. With Clint on restricted duty, he wouldn't be doing much except sitting around, and if she left him alone, no telling what kind of mischief he'd get into. "That would be great. Can we stop and see Trevor on the way home?"

"Yes. He'll be back in DC by tomorrow and asked us to visit. He's planned a barbeque."

"Sounds like fun." They arrived at Clint's quarters before hers. "Need help getting dressed again?"

Leaning his back against the wall next to the door, he gave her an appraising glance. "You offering?"

Holding her uniform against her chest, Naomi gave him a cheeky smile. "Yeah. And you can help me with mine."

Lowering his voice, he leaned close after casting a glance left and right to make sure they were alone. "We do that and we'll be late to the party."

She blew out a breath. "Wouldn't want that."

Clint gave her a kiss to send her on her way then set about the painful task of changing into his uniform of black cargo pants, short sleeved shirt, vest zipped in the front and boots. The last thing he put on was his thigh holster, a grin coming to him as he tossed his extra one on the bed. The belt was adjustable to fit Naomi's narrow waist. Putting his boots on was the hardest because bending over hurt like hell. But he'd gladly endure if it meant that the people who were responsible for destroying the plans he and Naomi had made twelve years ago were put behind bars for the rest of their lives. Plans they'd both made though they hadn't discussed it. It was only natural when two people loved each other as much as they did.

The PA came on announcing the departure of his team in ten minutes ending his ruminations. Just for a moment he considered taking his bow, but doubted he'd be able to pull it to the anchor point. He shoved the Glock into its holster on his left thigh, added additional magazines just in case then headed out to the deck to join the rest of the team preparing to take down as many of the Consortium's people as possible. A situation that was made so by the information SHIELD had hacked from the home computer belonging to the interrogator he'd once called Tiny. Soon she'd be paying dearly for her alliance with a criminal organization that advocated torture, and for keeping such files on a device that had flimsy firewalls and encryption protocols.

And he'd be there to see it happen with a smile on his face.

TBC