so, unforunately, no one guessed correctly, with the exception of two guests (but i can't send you guys cookies, I'm sorry!)

My favorite drink while I type is hot tea :) and well, thats actually just my favorite thing to drink all in all. I drink probably around 5-7 cups of tea a day :) sometimes more XD

anywho, thanks for reviewing on that last chapter, and i hope this clears up a bit of confusion ;)

enjoy!

~Chapter 10

Clint isn't sure what time it is when he awakens.

Light siphons through the blinds in bright strips, and Hawkeye decides that the light must have been what pulled him from pleasantly fuzzy dreams. He wants to go back to sleep, but he feels fully rested and ready to go, which is very rarely the case.

He sighs and slips out of bed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and let out a jaw cracking yawn. Clint moves to go over to the window, but trips on a discarded boot, falling to the floor like dead weight.

Natasha always made fun of him for being rather clumsy in the mornings when he didn't want to wake up.

He gets back to his feet, now fully awake by way of his face plant.

Clint gets back to his feet as his shoulder reminds him he's still not a hundred percent, and kicks the boot out of his way. He swears as he opens the blinds and the bright sunlight makes him see spots.

He grumbles to himself as he very grudgingly gets ready for the day, struggling to pull a shirt over his head and having problems tying his boots with one hand that didn't want to cooperate without causing pain.

When he finally catches a glimpse at the time on the clock beside his bed, he frowns. It's already one in the afternoon, and he just now is waking up.

"Hey, sleeping beauty!" Becky calls, smiling as he enters the kitchen. "Finally got Natasha to kiss you so you would wake up?"

"No." He replies shortly, grabbing a green apple from a basket of fruit on the counter. "She'd stab me in the eye before she'd kiss me." Clint tells her truthfully.

What was it with everyone thinking we're in love? Just because we are partners, does not mean we are love interests. That would be stupid. Clint thinks to himself acidly. He was getting sick of all the jokes made at Natasha's dispense. The fact that they were directed at him made him want to punch Stark in the face, even though he wasn't the one currently being an asshat.

"I doubt that." Becky says equally, as if she really meant it.

Clint just stares at her as if she had grown a third eye.

"Oh, so Big Bird finally decided to get out of bed?"

"Shut up, Stark." Clint says easily, taking a big bite out of his apple. He didn't realize how hungry he was till he finally tried eating. He felt like he hadn't eaten for days.

"How'd the pych eval go?" He asks Tony.

Tony makes a sound of exasperation. "Terrible! The rated me as being clinically sane."

"Well, that is a bit surprising," Clint admits. He certainly didn't think of Stark as being sane in any form.

"I know!" Tony replies, throwing his hands up in the air. "How many sane scientists do you know?"

Clint opens his mouth in order to tell him about quite a few, but Tony doesn't give him time.

"None!' He chirps. "Not one sane scientist in the history of amazing inventions!"

"Anyways…" Becky says slowly, ignoring Tony as he grumbles about the state of his sanity—or lack thereof. "Bruce told me to send you down to the lab once you woke up, said it was important."

"All right." Clint says, not moving from where he leaned against the doorframe, still munching happily on his apple.

"That means go." Becky tells him when she notes how still he stays.

"Now?" Clint says, pushing away from the wall, and standing straight.

"Yes, now." Becky says rolling her eyes. "He said it was important."

He sighs and throws out the rest of his apple, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Fine. Come get me in ten minutes. I need to do some training today."

"You're not allowed to train for another two weeks, mister!" Becky calls after him.

Clint pretends not to hear.

Becky sighs, saying under her breath, "Allrighty, then. I'll get you in ten minutes."

*(*)*

"Hellloooo?" Clint calls loudly. The lab Banner had setup was huge—it covered almost an entire floor, and he worried that if he strayed to far into the labyrinth he would get lost amongst all the bubbling test tubes and Tesla coils.

"You finally woke up?" Bruce pokes his head out from behind a large machine; one that Clint thought looked a bit scary.

"Umm…yeah…" He replies as Bruce springs into action.

"That's good. I checked on you a few times throughout all of yesterday and today, just to make sure you hadn't fallen into a comatose or some such." Bruce digs through his black medical bag, in search of something in particular.

When he pulls out a stethoscope and starts listening to Clint's heart, Hawkeye asks, "Did you call me down for a physical or something Doc? I got shot in the shoulder. Didn't have a heart attack."

"No, I know that. It's just you were asleep for longer than I had expected."

Clint senses a bit of trickery and acts on it. "What do you mean by that?" He questions, eyes narrowing.

"That little anti-biotic cocktail I gave you had a sedative in it." Bruce says dismissively.

"What? Why?" Clint growls, pushing the medical instrument away.

"You needed the sleep."

Clint could hear a lie miles away. "I can sleep perfectly fine on my own. I've only had practice every night." Of course, the times where he just lay there awake all night and nights he had woken in a cold sweat from nightmares (which would be most nights, but Banner didn't need to know that) were not included in that statement. "Explain. And tell the truth."

Banner looks down at his watch. "Natasha asked me to."

"What?!" Clint yells, pacing back and forth. "She told you to drug me?"

"Yes. And not tell you where she was going."

Hawkeye runs a hand through his hair and tries to slow his breathing, trying to regain his composure.

"Do you know where she's going?" He has a feeling he knows exactly where she is.

"Depends." Bruce replies, dropping everything back into his black bag and zipping it up. "You up to chasing after her?"

Clint finds himself unable to lie in the face of Bruce Banner. "No." He admits. He can fight without his bow, but hand to hand is something he'd rather avoid. Russian soldiers are very big on hand to hand if they are without a gun- obviously. And Clint can't honestly say he would hold up in a combat situation if he was fighting more than one person and found himself without a good weapon.

"Good. At least you know your limits." Banner says approvingly.

"Hey, you told me to come get you…so…" Becky pops in, hands in her pockets. "Here I am."

"I have to go get Tasha." He mumbles to himself, continuing to pace. "I know she'd be in Russia…but…"

"She already left?" Becky says flatly. She knew she was leaving, but she never expected she would leave behind Clint. "She left without you?"

"Yeah. Apparently I'm not allowed to keep her from getting herself killed." He snarls, angry at Nat for so blatantly putting herself in danger without backup.

"Tell me. Where did she say she was going?" Clint asks Bruce. "Please."

"All she told me was she was heading to Russia." Banner answers, unable to help much. He grimaces at Hawkeye, looking him up and down. "You're not going to get her by yourself…are you?"

"No." Becky replies. "He's not going alone."

"What, you offering yourself up, Beckett?" Clint asks, being bitterly sarcastic. "Last time I checked, you hung up the throwing knifes to become a normal agent."

Beckett smiles. "You don't miss your days partnered with me?"

"I miss the days where it was just Rebecca Beckett. The days where you were Phantom, I do not miss at all."

"Aww, I'm not that scary in uniform, am I?" Becky grins and the two head to the elevator, leaving a confused Banner behind in the dust.

"When you're being serious, yeah. You're pretty damn scary."

"Scary as Natasha?" She asks, still grinning like a fox.

Clint looks at her with critical eyes.

"Not as scary as Nat." He tells her truthfully. "But you're damn close."

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