In the Avengers, there are several duos that are just always there. No discussions. No debates. It was just fact. Tony and Steve went on missions together. Jan went with Hank. Clint with Hulk. And Thor tagged along with whoever needed a third person. That was that.

It wasn't just because those were who got along the best with each other either. It was that, no matter what sort of a mission they were being sent on, that pair worked best together. Anticipating the others moves and working with it. Fighting, not just as a team, but almost as one. Like they knew exactly what was running through their partners head at every given moment.

That's why it was proving to be difficult getting ready for this next mission. Not that Steve really had much time to get dressed and down to the front entrance of the manor, let alone debate on whether being paired up with Clint was really a good idea.

Tony had been busy with a meeting. Uncancellable, he'd told the others. No way to change the time unless they wanted Stark Enterprise to go bankrupt. Hulk just wasn't answering. He did that a lot but, before, it had never really bothered Steve. He'd always figured that whatever the big guy was up to it was probably important. Today, with all of the others already occupied with something of known importance, he was already planning on ways to bring it up to the green goliath that the com-card was something he really should be answering.

Now, don't get him wrong. It wasn't that he didn't like Clint. The marksmen was easy enough for him to get along with, though some of the jokes he cracked were more than a tad annoying. It was just that all of the other members of the Avengers, Hulk included, had more fighting experience than Clint did. The archer was also the youngest on the team and, though Steve tried hard not to think of his team mate as such, the most vulnerable. Which meant that if anything went wrong on this mission, it would all be on Steve's shoulders.

Not a reasuring thought.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, let out a tired sigh as he grabbed his shield, and headed down to the main entrance. Clint was already there, fully dressed in his uniform, leaning against the wall. Arms crossed over his chest, he opened his eyes and straightened up before Steve even had the chance to call his name.

"Ready?" Clint asked.

Steve nodded. "Yes." He paused for a moment, shifting just slightly. For all the confidence he had in his ability to fight, all the new implications of things that had been simple in the past still made it difficult for him to ask his team things. He just never knew what sort of a response he would get. "I planned on taking my motorcycle but-"

"I'll walk." Clint cut him off with a shake of his head. "You take your bike and I'll meet you there. Alright?"

Steve hesitated again. It seemed like it would take Clint an awfully long time to get there by foot. He wasn't given a chance to voice his concern though as the other Avenger had already pulled open the door and dissapeared into the night.

That was another reason that Steve was worried about how this fight would go. As far as he knew, Clint wasn't one for team-work or for thinking things through. He was brash. And being brash was not good for a battle.

Never the less, Steve followed after the archer. His motorcycle was already parked in front of the building. It always was when he didn't get partnered with Tony, though he had never been able to figure out how it got from the basement up to the front driveway each time.

Riding his bike, it only took a short ten minutes to get to the scene of the crime. Which, in this case, happened to be the pier. And the culprit happened to be a large, musceled man clad in a ridiculous yellow pinstripe suit and waving around what Hank had informed him was a gamma gun. There were several wirey men, in matching yellow suits, loading suspicious looking crates into a boat.

Steve pushed the kickstand of his motorcycle down and hunkered into the shadows. He was planning on giving Clint two minutes to show up before he just went out and took down the man, apptley named Canary, on his own. It was only a few moments though before a hand was laid on his shoulder. Steve jerked under the touch and spun around, ready to attack whoever was behind him.

Only to come face to face with a smirking Clint.

"You ready?" The archer questioned, not a single trace of being out of breath in his voice.

Which made almost as little sense as him already being there. Even if, by some miracle, Clint had managed to run to the pier that quickly it should have left him gasping for breath. Not completely ready for a fight. It just...Wasn't feasable.

Steve nodded in answer any ways.

~X~

It had been a surprisingly difficult battle. Not hard enough that the other Avengers needed to be called but certainly a challenge. One that, as always, might have been made easier if S.H.I.E.L.D. ever showed up for more than retrieval duty; which was what several of the lower ranked members of the prestigious military group were currantly doing.

It turned out that Canary could produce a voice so loud, it could crack whatever glass was in the recent vicinity. He also had the annoying gift of being able to talk to birds. And there were a lot of seagulls at the pier. Seagulls that didn't like Clint, evidently, as he was the only one that they went after.

Between those two abilities and the fact that Steve and Clint had never worked together on a solo mission like this, Canary had turned into quite a handful.

In the end of it all, Steve had ended up abandoning the actual fight to go after the ship. The crates that had been loaded onto it were all filled with the same gamma guns that Canary had been wielding; something that had been realized when Clint was slammed into one of the crates. And, even if it meant that Canary got away, Steve refused to just let technology like that spread around in the wrong hands.

So getting that boat stopped, or destroyed as the case had been, was his main priority. Clint, however, had other goals. When Steve got back to the pier, though, instead of the fight still going on or Canary having gotten away, he was met with the sight of the criminal sprawled in an unconscious heap on the wooden planks. Leaning against a few of the unloaded crates near Canary was Clint, battered and bruised.

Steve hadn't gotten the chance to go over and check on him though as, at that moment, S.H.I.E.L.D. had chosen to show up. Clint hadn't done much the entire time that the agents were there, which was slightly worrying. That's why, the moment that the armored van drove off, Steve's first priority was to check on his clearly injured team-mate.

"Clint? Are you okay? You look...More than a little hurt." Steve waved a hand at Clint, his worry coming through his voice loud and clear.

Clint just looked at him, one eyebrow raised in what looked like amusement.

Steve cleared his throat. "I know that you were rather adamant earlier about not taking my motorcycle here but, perhaps, it would be best if you allowed me to give you a ride back to Tony's? I'm not quite sure how you got here but I'm sure that being driven home would be an easier mode of transportation."

Again, Clint stayed silent.

"Of course, if you'd rather not I understand." Steve offered up. Clint looked honestly amused at this point and Steve was starting to think that there really was a double meaning to sharing the same motorcycle.

There were a few more moments of silence before Clint let out a rather loud chuckle. "Cap." His voice was far louder than it needed to be, too. "I can't hear a word you're saying."

Steve blinked, brows furrowing as a frown settled onto his face. "Can't hear?"

That was when he noticed the thin trail of blood running down either side of Clint's head, dripping out of either ear. He reached out and grabbed onto his shoulder in an attempt to lead him over to the motorcycle. That was no way that Steve was letting him walk off like that, whether it was to Tony's or not! "You need to see a doctor, Clint."

"I'm fine." Clint's words were terse despite their volume. Shrugging his shoulders, the archer pulled out of Steve's grip, taking a few steps away. "I'm going home." Then Clint was gone, dissapearing quickly into the shadows of the night.

And perhaps, when it came to battles, the archer wasn't nearly as young as Steve had thought he was. Then again, recklessness had always been a warriors greatest foe.