lance: rinse and repeat

It takes Bobbi thirty seconds before her back stiffens in realisation that she's not alone in the room. Thirty whole seconds slower than her average of zero. Isabelle counted.

"Mack was right," Isabelle observes. Bobbi pivots round, startled, and rolls her eyes in greeting when she realises it's only her friend. Her tactical suit is clutched in her hands, soiled and torn in places from the previous mission. "Right about what?"

Isabelle doesn't miss the way Bobbi's lips are turned up at the corners, or the light in her eyes that hadn't been there for a long time- too long. She doesn't call Bobbi out on her slower reaction time; in this case, slower was good. Slower meant she was distracted, and distracted was, or could possibly be, a good thing. She leans against the doorway casually, arms folded. "He said you fell for the mark."

Bobbi scoffs and turns back to continue unpacking before she even finishes her sentence. "Did he?" She doesn't say more, but, Isabelle notes, she doesn't deny it either. "I think he's right," she says, keeping her tone carefully neutral. Bobbi laughs at that, but still doesn't respond. Not really. She doesn't know whether to be excited or worried. The last time Bobbi had behaved this way…

"I think you should be careful," she tries again, and this time, Bobbi finally responds. She turns around slowly, twisting the straps of the empty duffel in her hands, her face carefully neutral. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." She gives the blonde a knowing look, but she blinks and dismisses it. "This is nothing Iz. I'm fine, promise. I haven't fallen for a damn mark," she rolls her eyes, "You know me better than that."

Isabelle stares at her, unfazed. "The last time I told you to be careful, it was with Barton. I think this one might be worse than-"

"He's nothing like Clint!" Bobbi blurts in a half-yell, and to her horror, her eyes sting and water. She blinks them away, embarrassed at her outburst. She wills her voice to remain steady and feigns a lighthearted tone. "Clint understood me, it was like he could read my mind." Her lip trembles, the pain of his rejection and betrayal fresh after all this time, and she's glad she'd turned away to keep her duffel. She takes a quiet, shaky breath before continuing, opting to feign annoyance.

"Hunter is nothing like Clint. Hunter- He drives me absolutely insane Iz, we argue over every single thing. I wish I were joking, but literally every single thing!" Her blood starts to boil at the memory. "He doesn't even like the way I say his damned name. It's like he's speaking a completely different language, which he might as well be, his accent is so thick, half the time I don't even know what he's saying, and then we argue all over again. He's the worst mark I've ever had the misfortune of meeting Iz, I don't remember ever being so stressed on a simple extraction mission before."

She slams the wardrobe and turns to face her friend, about to continue ranting, but Isabelle's expression reminds her of what they were talking about in the first place, and the wind goes out of her sails. Bobbi crosses her arms in front of her, absentmindedly rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "It's not gonna happen Iz," she meets her eyes sadly and turns away, shoulders hunched and curled in on herself, "Not after Clint. Not after what he did."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Isabelle mutters under her breath.

-o-

"He brought me breakfast in bed. Breakfast in bed! Who does that?!"

Isabelle watches as Bobbi paces a path into her floor and eats her own breakfast sedately. From what she'd heard over the past few weeks, Bobbi was far from done ranting. "What did he bring you?" she asks mildly.

"Pancakes! He made pancakes! From scratch! God Iz, who does that?! I thought these things only happened in movies-"

"What kind of movies?" she interrupts Bobbi mid-rant, and the younger woman pauses and blinks at her, confused. "What?"

Isabelle rolls her eyes mentally. This was moving slower than she thought it would, she never pegged Bobbi for those daft, oblivious types- she was one of SHIELD's top spies, for goodness' sake- but obviously Hunter was an expert at messing with her mind. "You said these things only happen in movies. What movies do you mean?"

Bobbi's brow furrows, trying to work out what Isabelle was getting at. "Those rom-com types," she replies, frowning, "The guy does a whole bunch of sweet things to get in the girl's pants, yada yada." She waves her hand dismissively. "What of it?"

Isabelle swallows her mouthful, wondering how plain she'd have to make things before Bobbi understood. "Well, he's already gotten into your pants," she says calmly, ignoring Bobbi's sputtering and spooning another mouthful of cereal into her mouth. "So that can't be it. Try again."

A faint pink tinge colours Bobbi's cheeks. "I..." Isabelle raises a brow. "Did you think we wouldn't know? We're SHIELD, Bob, and you two aren't exactly subtle. Especially Hunter. I believe he asked Idaho for condoms the other day," she says, tapping her spoon against her mouth in thought. "So, think!" She doesn't bother to hide her eye-rolling this time. "What does he want?"

Bobbi rolls her eyes right back and flops into the chair in front of her friend. "I don't know! If you're trying to say he's in love with me-" Isabelle raises her brows and Bobbi stops mid-sentence. "Oh no," she straightens up. "No no no, that can't be it, that's not- That's ridiculous Iz, even for you- We can't stand each other-" Isabelle stares pointedly at her and she breaks off again, dropping her gaze to the table.

Isabelle swallows a chortle; she can practically see the cogs turning in Bobbi's head as she stares unseeingly at a knot in the wood, trying to come to terms with what was apparently a revelation and figuring out her own feelings. She had hidden away her emotions for so long after Barton, Isabelle supposes all this was practically new to her. That, and Barton never drove Bobbi quite this crazy or made her this frustrated- Which makes him more dangerous, she thinks, making a mental note to really check the man out and make him swear not to hurt the woman she'd come to think of as a younger sister, on pain of death or mutilation.

Bobbi glances up at Isabelle, terror and disbelief and excitement written in equal parts across her face, then gets up and walks out in a daze.

-o-

Bobbi storms into the apartment, slamming the door so forcefully that something falls to the ground with a crash. Isabelle looks up from her sudoku at the sound, sighs, and looks back down. It was definitely because of Hunter again, she didn't even have to ask at this point- nothing got Bobbi as worked up as that Brit.

She waits until she hears glasses clinking in the kitchen, then walks over to the foyer and picks up the broken photo frame, careful to avoid the shards of glass. It's a picture of Hunter and Bobbi; Bobbi's head was thrown back in laughter, hair glinting in the evening sun, and Hunter was staring at her like... Like she was the only person in the world that mattered. Cheesy, but there was no other way to describe it. She'd asked Bobbi once, about what Hunter had said or done that made her laugh like she didn't have a care in the world- she'd never seen the agent let go of her inhibitions as much as she had had over the past few months. Bobbi had stared at her for a long moment, unable to recall, only to quietly mutter that she couldn't remember because it happened so frequently. Then she'd turned away, with wide eyes and a slight frown, as if she hadn't realised and couldn't believe she'd been so happy, with him.

Isabelle sighs, setting the broken frame back in its place on the shelf and clearing the shards, ignoring Bobbi's somewhat subdued call from the kitchen to "leave it alone Iz, I'll clear it later." She casts another glance at the photo as she straightens up. This wasn't the first time the frame had been broken, far from it. But every time, she'd come home to find that Bobbi had replaced the frame.

She migrates to the kitchen with her sudoku, keeping an eye on Bobbi, who's standing over the sink in silence with her back turned to Isabelle, a mug in her hands. She doesn't press Bobbi for details- they'd been here enough times- just waits patiently at the kitchen table working on her puzzle. It's a good half hour before she finally gets through the puzzle, but Bobbi hasn't moved an inch. She sets the book down, worry creasing her brow.

"Bobbi?"

The blonde startles, dropping her mug into the sink with a loud thud. Isabelle's frown deepens; Bobbi's cool composure under any and all circumstances was the reason the interns called her the 'Ice Queen' behind her back- not that she was unaware of this nickname. This loss of control was unusual for Bobbi, even when it came to Hunter. Isabelle comes round to lean against the kitchen table, watching as Bobbi picks up the mug and rinses it out mechanically. "Bob," she repeats, and the blonde turns around slowly.

Isabelle sighs; Bobbi's face was drawn, eyes red with tears she was struggling to hold back, lip trembling violently. She inhales a shaky breath, turning her eyes toward the ceiling before meeting Isabelle's gaze, and despite herself, the first tears slip down her cheeks. She tries for a nonchalant shrug and a weak smile, but her voice cracks when she tries to speak, and the dam breaks.

"Oh Bob." Isabelle holds her as she blubbers unintelligibly against her shoulder, trying to hold back sobs, hand still fisted tight around the mug as if it allowed her some semblance of control. Here and there she manages to catch snippets; "lies" and "trust" and "it's my job" and "it's who I am", and "I'm trying, but it's not enough- it's never enough" and "if he can't accept it then maybe it's a good thing we split up".

It takes longer than Isabelle expects for Bobbi to calm down. Not long, but still longer than she'd expect from one of SHIELD's top agents. She hands another tissue matter-of-factly to a sniffling Bobbi, and wonders if the younger woman realises that she's still clutching the empty mug- a mug that Isabelle recognises as a gift from Hunter from the rude print on the front. She watches as Bobbi turns the mug over and over in her hands absentmindedly, and finally breaks the silence.

"You know this isn't over, right?"

-o-

Bobbi glances over at Isabelle trying to decide which cereal to eat. She sticks a spoon in her own bowl, leaning against the counter, and takes a mouthful, munching slowly to calm her nerves. "Hunter proposed again last night," she says. She can't face Isabelle's gaze, so she concentrates on the colourful puffs floating in her bowl of milk, suddenly thankful she has something to hold.

Isabelle studies her for a moment. "You said no."

"Yes."

She sighs, and Bobbi pushes herself off the counter to sit at the table. Isabelle joins her seconds later, her bowl empty. "Bob," she sighs again, "Why?"

The blonde gives a half-shrug and pokes around the bowl with her spoon. "You've been together for three years and he's proposed twice. How many times must the poor man beg to marry you before you say yes?"

"You know what happened the last time I got married Iz," she says darkly, stabbing at a happy pink loop and submerging it under milk. "That bastard* raped me, and when I killed him, Clint blamed me. He left me." Her voice breaks and she shakes her head. "How do I know that won't happen again?"

Isabelle mimics her actions and plants her elbows on the table, leaning forward. "You told me yourself that Hunter isn't Clint, do you remember? Clint left because you killed someone, but Hunter… I think Hunter would kill him for you, whether you wanted it or not," she says seriously, and is surprised when she realises she genuinely believes what she's said. "Right after he beats himself up for not protecting you," she adds, trying to lighten the mood.

Bobbi cracks a small smile and quiets for a moment, and Isabelle knows that she knows that it's the truth, too. She sighs when Bobbi raises her head to speak. "We've broken up more times than I can count Iz." Oh, she knew Bobbi was going to say that, it was her standard reason for turning Hunter down. Honestly, she was torn between pity for the man and admiration for his dogged tenacity. "And you've gotten back together one time more than you've broken up," she counters. "Fall down seven times, stand up eight, right?"

Bobbi glances away, "I got married in nine days** the last time, I want to be absolutely sure this time. I don't want to make another mistake," she says softly, and Isabelle sighs again. She'd given up trying to tell Bobbi that there was no such thing as being a hundred percent sure, that there was always risk involved like any other decision, but she doesn't waste her breath. She hadn't expected her persuasion this time to work, but it would have been nice. "If you aren't sure, maybe it's a good thing you said no." She gets up to leave. "But Bobbi, he's not going to wait around forever."

-o-

She shoves her clothes in a duffel and storms out of the apartment. It's a long, lonely drive to the graveyard, and it's empty today. Like most other days. She busies herself pulling up the weeds by Izzy's grave, angrily brushing away tears with the back of her hand every few minutes. Finally, she sits and leans back against the side of the tombstone, hands scratched and eyes red and leaking. She sniffs noisily, eyes turned toward the sky.

"It's over, Iz. For good, this time. I…" She swallows past the lump in her throat. "He said if I was so unhappy we should just get a divorce, and I… I-" The sob catches in a gasp in her throat. "He sent the papers back to the lawyer today a-and… It's done, Iz. It's over." There's no one around, but out of habit, she presses a fist to her mouth to muffle a sob. "I wish y-you were here," she hiccups. "You'd know how to f-fix this."

A/n:

Title prompt from R :)

*comic canon: Phantom Rider/ Lincoln Slade slept with Bobbi while she was under the effects of a love potion he had given her, ie she was raped, basically. When she finally shook off the effects of the potion, she allowed Slade to fall to his death off a cliff. It broke the Avengers' code of 'no killing' (even though I personally think it was justified), and not being able to accept this violation, Clint left her.

**also comic canon: Bobbi and Clint got married within 9 days of knowing each other.

(correct me if I'm wrong please!)

/edit 4 July 2015: Sanctuaria pointed out that Isabelle Hartley wasn't actually dead when Hunter and Bobbi got divorced. THANK YOU!

For clarification: Izzy was presumed dead at the time. Whether Bobbi believed that to be true, or knew that it was a cover but had no other way of contacting her, is up to you. :)