AN: I don't have a beta- excuse the mistakes. I've been trying to catch them.

I'll write some replies to your reviews on the next chapter.

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Enjoy!

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"Kick your leg up higher." I tried once more and he let out an annoyed sigh. "Higher. Your foot should be even with my ear."

"My foot's gonna be somewhere else in a second jackass."

He eased out of his defensive stance and nodded, "Okay. Let's call it good on that part of the training."

"Thank God," I mumbled as I went to retrieve my water from the weight bench. My ribs were still achy, but my ankle was perfectly fine. Bruce said he was amazed at the speed of my recovery. Personally, I hadn't noticed since Clint was keeping me extremely busy. Clint was stretching his arms, bending over touching his toes, stretching his quads. I tried not to stare…too much. We had officially moved into Stark's Tower about three weeks ago. The Avengers had done two missions. When I say, Avengers, I mean myself, Clint, and Tony. Steve and Natasha were doing there own thing…still. It infuriated me that they had been gone a month. A month? Seriously? What kind of mission requires being gone for a month? The undercover kind…

Yay…

"Need to lay off the brownies," Clint said as he casually sat down on the bench were I was stretching my legs. My eyes widened at his comment. I scowled at him as he went about his business checking his phone. Grabbing my bottle of water I squirted him in the face. Hah. Lay off the brownies, my ass. Water dripped down his face as he licked his lips. He held his phone away from his body trying to protect it. "What the hell Marcy?"

He grabbed my towel and wiped his face off mumbling something about crazy. I shoved him and he nearly fell backwards, "That's for telling me to lay off the brownies. God, you're such a man."

"I was talking about me. God woman…you bake cookies, pies, and freakin' brownies all the time!" He stood up and tossed the towel back at me, "Gonna start calling you Betty Crocker. I was talking about me."

Oh…well. I stood there awkwardly for a moment and then cleared my throat, "Sorry. Women…get sensitive. I wear that suit thing…"

He chuckled deeply as starting walking on the treadmill. Falling back into a routine hadn't been all that hard after spending so much time together. We left the ship together, moved into the Tower together…different apartments, but still I saw him every day. Tony and Pepper were my regulars and also, Bruce. It was like having this dysfunctional fully functional superhero family. I roamed over to the free weights. Maybe I would lift something today. I was honestly bored…I wanted to go out. I wanted to do something different for once.

"By the way…" I looked over at Clint and he grinned as started jogging, "Your ass looks fine. Can't even tell you ate a pint of mint chocolate chip last night."

"I was right…you are such man," I said plopping down on the bench with my phone. Agent Hill was sending out informational emails once again. I suspected there would be a meeting or a mission coming due soon.

"All day," he said as he upped the speed on his jog. I rolled my eyes and tried to hide my smirk, but I was pretty sure it shown through. Hiding things from Clint was like trying to live in a glass house…naked. All of your shit was just bared to the world.

"I think Hill is hinting at a mission…she keeps sending me photos of flames for me to identify. I think…she still thinks Crystal is alive."

"You don't?" I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I tried to really consider his question. Did I think Crystal was still alive? I had to admit something wasn't sitting well with me about this all. Clint stopped the treadmill and breathed heavily for a moment. I sat down on the edge and shrugged. I've seen that look before. I had seen it many, many times in the desert when the whole situation didn't feel right. I saw a hair line trickle of that look before I went undercover. That should have been my clue to take his advice and wait for some other stupid idiot to run in. I always had to play the hero though especially after Deacon was killed. I felt like I had a point to prove though…a point to prove to myself and him.

"After seeing everything…I just don't think he would allow himself to be killed in an explosion or rogue fire. He wants us to think he's dead." I sat there watching him closely. He had been contemplating this for a while, but failed to mention it. Maybe he didn't want to alarm me. I don't know. He took a long gulp of his water before standing with a stretch, "I think he's out there…laying low. It's like a diversion…just some sort of distraction."

I nodded slowly. I didn't feel he was dead either. I'm not sure why I felt like that. It couldn't have been from the flame because we weren't connected by any biological markers. Letting out a long sigh, I stood and snatched my towel off the weight bar beside me, "I'm going to take a shower. I've had enough fun for one day."

"Wanna get a drink?" He rushed out quickly.

I turned slightly toward Clint. His left hand clenching his towel tightly, right hand held a bottle of half empty water that swooshed lightly as he hit it against his leg. He seemed…nervous. He swallowed, "Dinner…or whatever? We can ask Pepper and Tony. That's fine. Even Bruce. Thor…him too."

"Thor is with Jane…in Europe."

"Oh," he seemed confused by that. Maybe he hadn't noticed Tony jetting them off together two days ago on a romantic getaway.

"Bruce…is with Director Fury helping out the newest addition to the lab. Tony and Pepper are at an energy conference thing until Sunday."

"Oh," was all he managed to say…again. I laughed at that and shook my head as I walked away. The Hawk had failed to notice a few things that were clearly under his nose. Something I found interesting.

"You still suck at this you know." I yelled behind me as I opened the gym door. "I'll be ready in forty-five minutes."

"Okay," was all I heard as I exited the gym with a grin on my face.

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Trying to decide what to wear was proving to be more difficult than I had first thought. This wasn't a date or at least he didn't say it was, but he was pretty nervous about asking, so maybe it was. It probably wasn't though. I stared into the mirror at my hair. The blue highlights were becoming more and more prominent. I suspected another four or five fireballs and then I would have blue hair. No one had mentioned it, yet. We were upstairs the other night with Tony and Pepper watching some Jackie Chan movie he had brought in from somewhere. It was quiet. Pepper had fallen asleep against Tony. I was stretched out on the couch comfortably with a pillow under my head. Clint, who was sitting beside me, kept touching my hair. He thought I didn't notice, but I saw his reflection in the window. He would run his fingertips of the ends of my hair, pick up a strand of blue and study it.

I smoothed down my grey long sleeve shirt and then tugged the sleeves up to my elbow showing just a few of my scars. I knew Clint wouldn't care. He hardly ever brought it up. I think he knew how sensitive I was about them. The contrast between the dark wash jeans and the grey shirt looked nice, but casual enough. I could get away with this. I snatched my short black leather jacket off the chair and my white scarf before I slipped my feet into a pair of black flats. God, I was acting like I was going on a date. A drink with a friend…I would have thrown on a t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of TOMS. This though…I was trying and it showed.

"Please let him look nice…please let him look nice." I picked up my purse, which Pepper had bought for me. She insisted that I needed a purse. So, what color did she buy me…red or raspberry as she had called it. The thing was as big as a house. I jerked open the door to the apartment to find Clint leaning against the wall across from my door. He smirked as he pushed off the wall. His eyes slid down my frame and gave a nod.

"You look…nice." I smiled at the compliment or lack of there of. I gave a small nod.

"Thanks…" He gnawed on his lip for a second before heading off toward the elevator. He was shaking his head slightly. I found it endearingly cute. I couldn't use the word cute for too long considering those jeans made his ass looking amazing. I shut my eyes briefly trying to get my mind focused on point. I stepped into the elevator directly after him and he pressed the lobby button. I heard him swallow as he fidgeted with his chain he had on before sticking it under his shirt. He wore it sometimes…mostly when he was in the desert. It was a penny that he considered to be lucky. I didn't take him for a superstitious guy, but everyone had their quirks.

"So…where we headed?"

"Um…there's this pub a few blocks away that's really good. Found it a few days ago when I was roaming." I glanced over at him. His eyes were glued to the numbers as they descended. Letting my eyes drift over him, I found we were dressed very similar except for his blue shirt. Blue made his eyes pop. Was he trying too? Of course a good looking man like himself had to have known what colors he looked good in. I'm pretty sure he played his baby blues up for a few women in the past. "You know…if that's okay. We can go somewhere else. There is this Italian restaurant…"

"I could go for a greasy burger and a huge beer." I said with a smile as our eyes met. He nodded in agreement. He should know me just a little bit better than that.

He laughed, "Me too."

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We were already finished with our first pitcher of beer and half way through our food. The beer obviously taking up more room. I was snacking on my fries listening to Clint talk and felt like I was back in his bunkhouse listening to stories of his childhood and days of his training. It felt good…kinda normal in a weird way.

"I can see you…fancy circus outfit. Flaming arrows…huge peacock feather on your head."

"No, no, no. I was dressed all in black. I had a Zorro mask on. I put a new meaning to tall, dark, and handsome…and mysterious," he said before finishing his beer. I bet you did.

"You want another pitcher?" We had roughly had about four glasses each…roughly. He slid off his stool and adjust his black jacket that was about to fall. I felt my eyes drift to his muscles. He looked up, blue eyes twinkling as he waited for my answer.

"You should bring us a few shots. Whiskey." I smiled as I chugged down the rest of my beer and he agreed with an indescribable expression written on his strong face.

"Allll right." He stepped away and I found myself watching him walk through the crowd. There was something there that made me imagine if my life were different…this could work. Then again, with both of us being used to what we did on a daily basis…this could work also. On what part could this not work? Two shot glasses full of amber liquid filled my vision. He adjusted my two shot glasses and his two shot glasses before sliding back on to his stool, "I'm pretty sure I can't drink you under the table like I used to."

"Are you admitting old age?" I said with a slight smirk. He grinned as he met my eyes. He shoved our food trays out of the way and picked up his first shot.

"Well…I'm not as hot as you."

The laughter bubbled through my chest and I sat my shot glass back down to prevent spillage. Laughing into my hand, I shook my head as I watched him take a shot. "That is the worst pick up line or flirtation…ever."

I kicked my first shot back and he just watched me. He licked his lips and I noticed his blue eyes grow a shade darker. I fought the chill that crept up my spine and then pooled into a heat low in my stomach. "I meant it though. You are gorgeously hot."

"You seem to be flirting again." I reached for my shot and tossed it back. He nodded and looked away with a shameful grin. God, he was amazing. I had missed him. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks and I found myself suddenly grabbing his remaining shot and sent it back also. He laughed broadly as I stood up and wobbled, "Mr. Barton?"

"Yes, Sergeant." His hands found my hips as I situated myself between his legs. I saw his Adams apple bob.

"I am very tipsy and I'm not sure how long this will last…so take full advantage of it."

I brushed my lips against his. I pulled away slowly seeing his eyes intense. I nodded my head toward the door. He stood quickly grabbing his coat and mine, I snatched my purse off the chair before he could usher us out. I tried to turn, "The bill…"

"Already paid for." I cocked an eyebrow at that as we exited the pub. He helped me with my coat before shoving his arms into his. I slinked my arm into his and pulled him close to me. His eyes drifted down to my lips and I felt myself unconsciously wet my lips. He made no move to kiss me. I felt a pang of disappointment flitter through me.

"We really should head back anyways," I stated as I pulled away toward the Tower.

He jerked me back and his lips descended on mine and I was shocked at how warm they were. Had they always been that warm…and soft? His hands were on either side of my face pushing my hair back as he asked for further access to my mouth. I was happy to give it to him. I let him have his moment of control because that was what he liked. Control. Honestly, I couldn't say that I wasn't the same way. I felt my back hit the brick of the pub and I moaned immediately. His hands pushed under my shirt and I gasped at the unexpected intrusion of night air. His fingers trailed down over my hips and down my butt before he grabbed it firmly.

My eyes flickered up to his as he gradually stopped kissing me. I yearned for more contact. His tongue paused before licking my lower lip. I swallowed as he sucked gently before pulling away. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, lips slightly red. Glancing around the alley, he pulled me closer and pressed a firm kiss to my forehead as we made our back to the Tower. His hand found mine and he kissed my knuckles before he dropped a light kiss onto my lips. My knees were weak and my stomach was burning. Holy crap. The buzz from the alcohol was gone. Clint seemed to be sober. I just wanted these feelings to be natural.

"I've dreamt about kissing you again for the past five years." I glanced over at him and smiled before I looked away feeling a blush fill my cheeks. "Some nights…that's all I think about."

"And if I remember correctly…you had to have alcohol in order to get your courage up too."

"Like you said…I'm not really good at this stuff." He gave an uneasy laugh as we neared the Tower.

"Coulda' fooled me…"I mumbled as I rubbed my lips.

He opened the lobby door and allowed me to enter first. I winked at him and led us toward the elevators. He stilled for a moment and I tugged at his hand. His blue eyes shot up to mine, "Tasha and Steve are supposed to be back tomorrow. I…wanted one last night alone with you."

I tilted my head to the side, "Just because they are back doesn't mean I'm going to spend any less time with you Clint."

He pulled my body against his and stroked my cheek gently with the calloused pad of his thumb, "You're beautiful."

I kissed him softly on his lips. I couldn't taste the whiskey anymore. I could taste him. He hadn't changed in five years…him…as a man though. He was completely different. I had to say though- I was a completely different woman.

The deep sound of a throat being cleared is what brought us back to reality. I looked away and tried regain my dignity. Clint gripped my elbow tightly as he tried to reassure me.

"Sir," Clint ground out tightly. I inhaled deeply as I turned back around. It wasn't as if we were caught having sex in the lobby. Right?

"Agent Barton. Sergeant James. Enjoying a night out?" I didn't care if I could burn people to crispiness…Director Fury scared the shit out of me.

"Just went out to get a bite to eat Sir," Clint said as he stood firm. I, however, shoved my hands into my pockets and shifted my weight toward Clint. Fury moved his gaze from Clint to myself and then back to Clint.

"Assignment Folders are waiting for you in your separate apartments. Enjoy the rest of your night." With that he walked out of the building. I glanced up at Clint and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. I gave a slight sigh.

"Well…that went…oddly well."

Clint laughed as he pulled me onto the elevator.

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Thank you for reading! I'm loving all of the reviews. Ya'll are just amazing.

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Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Marcy James is my own creation.