Romanoff is still sleeping off the effects of the drugs in the infirmary when Director Fury himself appears at the foot of the bed.

Barton, of course, hasn't left since she arrived. Hell, he arrived with her. Everyone assumed that with a SHIELD-arranged charity benefit (anonymous benefactors, of course) someone would end up in the hospital but no one ever considered that it would be the Black Widow. If anything it was more likely for Barton to get into a ridiculous fight and for Romanoff to be found dragging him off for her own version of medical attention. Because that's what they did - Strike Team Delta - they patched each other up without the need for infirmary visits. Not this time though.

Fury, for all his efforts, does not comment on the fact that his two most valuable agents are looking like considerably more than partners in this darkened part of the hospital. Barton has dimmed the lights now that the medical technicians have left, and he's pulled up one of the battered old stools to Romanoff's bedside. Yeah, he's holding her hand too. That doesn't please him all too much. But the most disturbing part is the storm of his eyes, which he can see even in the semi-darkness of the room. A rage of anger, vengeance and concern - such a softness and tenderness that he's sure that's the only reason why another agent hasn't been brutally murdered already.

"They say what it was, sir?" Barton asks, his voice unnaturally tight. Fury doesn't comment on that either.

"Ketamine, a contaminated source which was too high to begin with."

Barton leans back, dropping Romanoff's hand with a heavy sigh, running his calloused hands over his face, leaving them there for the briefest of moments before dropping them again. "Loss of co-ordination, convulsions, high blood pressure, loss of consciousness..." he was listing off the symptoms of the drug that her body had exhibited.

"Potentially fatal respiratory failure," Fury added, nodding at the unconscious form on the bed.

There's almost a question at the end of the list, but Fury doesn't voice it. Instead Barton answers automatically, and the tightness is back in his tone. "They said she'll be okay. They didn't tell me much else. Just that she'll wake up when she's ready."

"I instructed them not to tell you anything," Fury said simply.

Barton's eyes turn to him, losing the tenderness and now filled with anger. "What?"

"The medical staff were not at liberty to inform you of any details. The fact that you were allowed to remain in the infirmary is a courtesy, not an entitlement, Agent Barton."

Barton rises from the stool, facing his boss with clenched fists, and if nothing else he is a man of control. Fury watches him back with a look of calm but inside he's somewhat amused. "With all due respect, Sir. I'm her emergency contact, I have every right to know."

"You're her field partner, Agent Barton. You're also very obviously emotionally involved in this matter and I do not want a dead agent on my hands. Is that understood?"

His eyes are still dancing with anger when he replies. "Markshaw was trying to pull her into a supply closet while she was having a god damn seizure."

"Agent Markshaw has been dealt with accordingly with the severity of his grievance." Fury informed him simply, causing Barton to scowl. "If you'd like the opportunity to snap his neck, I'll be more than happy to set up a detention cell for you once you're finished."

The threat of his own punishment does little to stall him, and instead he gestured to Romanoff's still form. "You do know what that bastard was trying to do to her, right?"

And yes, it went without saying that the use of the drug made it more than clear for everyone to know what had almost happened.

"You had your opportunity to kill Agent Markshaw, Agent Barton, and you failed to take your shot." Fury reminded him. Barton looks back at him, confused as he drops himself back onto the stool. Fury hands him one of the SHIELD security tablets, already pre-loaded to the point of footage where Agent Barton's interception took place.

There's nothing but angry threats and the sounds of struggles until Barton realises what Fury wants him to see - the moment where Markshaw is seen escaping the hall far too easily because Barton's dropping to his knees and pulling his partner's head into his lap. Romanoff's mid-convulsion and it's all his training knows to steady her head and free the space around her body so she doesn't hurt herself, but that doesn't explain the way his body is bent over hers and the way that his hands are stroking over his hair and face. Fury leans forward and rises the volume on the tablet to prove his point further, filling the room with the sounds of Romanoff's struggles and Barton's whispers.

"Shh, Tasha, it's alright. Fight it out, that's it...good girl, you're doing great, Tasha. You're safe now...hey, hey...shh, you're good...I'm right here. Look at me, Beautiful...that's it...I got you. He didn't hurt you...I got you..."

The footage stopped and Barton looked down at the abandoned hand of his partner. His own hand twitched towards it but he didn't take it, more conscious than ever that his boss was standing over him.

"Do we need to discuss the finer points of my policy on agents dating one another, Agent Barton?" Fury asked him sternly.

Barton's hand fell still just an inch from Romanoff's. "No, Sir."

"Good. Stay with your partner, Barton. I need to handle Agent Markshaw's punishment." Barton's head rises up sharply, eyes begging, but Fury shakes his head. "This is not your concern, Barton. Stay here or I'll have you chained to her side."

"What will happen to Markshaw, Sir?" he asks, and Fury wishes that he'd put up at least a little fight at the idea of being chained to Romanoff's side.

"He'll be removed from SHIELD, effective immediately. This time tomorrow he'll wake up in a new location with no memory of his employment, and several broken bones and bruises."

Fury turns to leave the Agents, but he doesn't leave the hall for sometime. Romanoff's stirring as he leaves the room so he watches from just outside in the observation unit. Perhaps he should have re-insured his policy on agent relationships, but he knows that there's nothing new or exciting in the way they interact. Whatever form of relationship exists between Barton and Romanoff has long since passed the typical honeymoon phase. They way that he brushes his hand over her bare arm is a reassurance, a familiar action, not an aching desire to touch her. When she stirs and turns her head on the pillow, an unconscious action towards where he sits, he moves himself to the edge of the mattress, leaning over her slightly with his hand on her cheek. It tells Fury everything that he needs to know that she doesn't toss his ass to the ground with the action, but that instead she leans into it.

He doesn't hear any of the words spoken, but he can see their lips moving in soft mumbles as she comes back to herself, her eyes noticeably groggy from the effects of the drugs. He can pinpoint the moment where Barton tells her exactly what happened to her because her fists clench at the sheets, memories of her past perhaps, and he uncurls them with his own hands and grips them tightly.

When Fury does move away, it's because his best agents are curled around each other on the infirmary bed. Romanoff's surrendered to the exhaustion of the drugs still leaving her system and Barton's just...there. Surrounding her. Protecting her. Whatever it is he's doing, it requires his hand stroking the length of her spine and his lips pressed to her forehead. His eyes flicker briefly around them and he pauses long enough to meet Fury's eyes. There's a nod of recognition between them as Barton channels his strength to where he's needed - at the side of his partner and not torturing her attacker - and Fury's suddenly inspired to leave more than bruises on the unfortunate man who drugged the Black Widow.