DISCLAIMER: Nope.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviews, favorites, and follows! They all make me so happy; you have no idea.
This is it, guys! The last chapter of The Last Five Years! Thank you so much for reading and, if you like Clint/Laura or just want more MCU fic in general, look for my next one, Murphy's Law, which will be coming out in December!
Alright, Bobbi's POV happens just after Chapter 2, and Lance's POV happens just before Chapter 1.
BOBBI
Bobbi woke up to an empty bed, but could hear the shower running. She wondered if it would be an awkward first meeting, or if they would wind up making this a regular thing.
She stood up slowly, running a hand through her blonde hair. It was almost eight and she would be expected at base in an hour, and he would probably be expected at work soon, too, except he had a two hour drive back to London, probably even longer with all this traffic. It probably wasn't the smartest idea for him to spend the night. Especially since Bobbi had officially become one of those girls who had sex on the first date. Izzy and Victoria would laugh at her about it for ages, if Natasha didn't beat them to it. Though she wasn't sure how Natasha would react. They were on friendly terms, but Bobbi definitely felt closer to Clint then her S.O. Not that she would want to dump this on new-father-Clint, who she was pretty sure was still in the process of turning Samantha Fisher into Laura Barton.
Once she entered the tiny kitchen in the back of her apartment, she got to work on breakfast. She had no idea what Lance would want, if he even would want anything. The fact that he was taking a shower without asking made her hopeful he'd want to stick around, but at the same time, he was taking a shower without asking. The only boyfriend she'd ever spent the night with was her one from the Academy, and their first time had been planned and intimate. They had been dating for almost two months at that point, and more than once they'd crashed in each other's dorms after a study session. But at the Academy, your shower was outside your dorm, and so was food, unless you kept a microwave or something in there. She'd never done anything like this before. Lance was only the second guy she'd ever been with, after all. She had no clue what to expect.
He came out, completely dressed and looking mildly uncomfortable. She was still in her tank top and pajama pants, considering she hadn't even begun the search for her clothes. She distinctly remembered her bra being somewhere other than the immediate area near her bed, but she would look for it after work.
"Do you want some eggs?" she asked after a few moments, gesturing to the frying pan in front of her with the spatula she was suddenly holding much tighter than needed, "Or something to drink? I think I have some tea-"
"I don't drink tea, actually," Lance laughed, "Though I'm sure the accent threw you off. Do you have coffee?"
"Yeah, I should. These past few mornings I've just been going to the Starbucks down the street," she laughed.
"Ah, though I don't blame you. Any idea where it would be?"
"Izzy's is kept in the cabinet by the sink, but she could've moved it from where S.H.I.E.L.D. had put it. I'd check there first." He went over and, sure enough, there sat a bag of coffee grounds, simply waiting to be brewed in the coffee maker she wasn't even sure how to work yet. "I have no idea how that works, by the way."
"It's alright. I've got the same one back at my flat."
"You'll have to show me how to work it, then," she told him.
"I'm sure it works very similar to every other coffee maker you've ever used."
"True, but I'm not known for my skills with appliances. So, how do you want your eggs?"
"Scrambled will be just fine," he said after a quick glance into the pan.
"Are you sure?"
"Bobbi, relax," he laughed.
"I'm sorry," she sighed, "Just- what are we? Was this a one-night stand? Are we dating? Are we fuck buddies or whatever that's called?" He sighed.
"I don't know. Whatever you want us to be."
"You get a say, too," she told him, staring right into his deep brown eyes. He nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair that had escaped her mess of a bun behind her ear.
"I wouldn't mind being your boyfriend."
"Do you mean that?"
"I do."
She leaned in and kissed him deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck. He responded eagerly, and she internally sighed in bliss.
LANCE
Staring at all of his clothing spread out in front of him, he sighed. He was seriously going to do this. The closest they'd gotten to this step was when Bobbi threw her ring in his face, but the second she'd gotten back from her mission they'd had their fantastic make-up sex and it had been back on her finger within the hour.
"Hunter? Bobbi?" he heard Izzy shout shortly after he heard the front door slam, "Anybody home?"
Lance exited the bedroom and there Izzy stood in her traditional S.H.I.E.L.D. catsuit, her only visible wound a cut on her forehead.
"You have to stop coming here when you need to be patched up in the middle of missions, and pass that along to Vic, Mack, and the Deltas, too."
"Well, I'm sorry I finished up and was in the area. I can do it myself, if you'd rather. And don't call her Vic."
"That reminds me," Lance called over his shoulder as he entered the bathroom, trying to find Bobbi's first aid kit, "Why do you get to call her 'Vic' but the rest of us get snapped at and a stink eye?"
"That's classified," she told him, entering the bedroom. "You leaving?"
"Uh, yeah," he finally said once he'd followed her in and saw what she was looking at, the huge kit in his hand. Since the Deltas, as Bobbi had taken to affectionately calling Clint and Natasha, though she wasn't allowed to tell him why, loved to get banged up, Bobbi had filled their first aid kit with basically anything the two could possibly need. Izzy was reckless, sure, but the Deltas had her beat by a long shot. "I could use some help; Bobbi normally does it, if we're speaking, but she'll be on base until late, plus the drive, and I have to leave tonight."
"Yeah, sure."
Izzy helped him pack his standard duffel bag and then left the apartment, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek that he half-heartedly returned. As soon as the door clanged shut behind her, he gathered the rest of his stuff and then sat down at the desk and grabbed the first piece of paper he could reach. It had the heading of 'Lance and Bobbi Hunter,' which he knew was going to be salt in the wound, but what else was he supposed to do? This whole thing was going to be hard, what could a little bit of salt add to it?
Isabelle helped me pack. She didn't know what she was doing, I swear. But take it how you will.
We can't keep doing this, Bob. We're not going to make any more compromises that only one of us ever really likes and you've made very clear your opinions on therapists. So I'm doing what has to be done.
I was never going to be your knight, Bob, to rescue you from that little town you grew up in, or the demons that followed you from it, or the PTSD that you come home with every two weeks- because yes, Bob, it is PTSD and you have to stop lying to yourself about that. I was never your fairytale ending, and we both know that neither of us are in a fit career for whatever the hell it is we're after. I'm sorry, Bob, and I know you won't believe that. All I can ever do for you is love you, but that's not enough any more.
And let you go.
-Lance
He took his key ring out of his pocket and set it on the table slowly. Then he pulled his wedding ring off even slower and set it down as well. It was very odd to have it off his finger, but it also felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he didn't know how he felt about that feeling.
Making his way to the door slowly, he took one last glance around the apartment he'd spent basically five years of his life in. He doubted he'd be allowed back in, but he didn't care. This was Bobbi's place now.
He made sure to turn the lock on the door before he closed it, his suitcase and duffel bag in hand. He took a deep breath and muttered, "What now?"
BOBBI
Bobbi walked Lance to the door, hand in hand. They'd made plans to meet up that night, but this time she'd go to London, a fair trade. She simply prayed that she could get off base at five. Otherwise, she'd be in huge trouble with him.
He leaned in to kiss her but she pushed him away.
"Save it for tonight. Leave with that one perfect kiss in our memory," she said, referring to the one in the kitchen before breakfast. "I'll watch you leave, if you want."
"I guess that will suffice," he murmured, planting a kiss to her cheek. She swatted him away good-naturedly. "See you tonight."
"I'll be waiting. I've been waiting for you for twenty-something years, after all."
He grinned at her and she watched him walk down the hallway and out the front door, him waving at her at one last time before ducking out the door.
"I have been waiting for you," she sighed, resting her forehead against the doorframe. She could not remember ever feeling like this about a guy, not in high school, nor at the Academy. This was different. This could go the distance.
She hoped desperately that it would.
LANCE
The last time he'd left an apartment she lived in with this many emotions jumbled up inside him, he'd been no older than twenty-three. He'd spent the night after their first time, and they had a coffee date that night. It was the start of the first hill on a five year roller coaster that took them all over the world.
And he was finally getting off.
He took one last glance at the door that they'd pushed each other up against, that they'd slammed in anger and frustration. It opened into their flat, the only one they'd ever shared. This door was as big a part of their relationship as the ring sitting on the table.
As he stared at that large, wooden piece of the past, he took a deep breath before he picked up his stuff and exited the building, stepping out into the London rain. Of course it was raining. Why wouldn't it be?
He made his way down the street, heading in the direction of his friend Roger's flat. He had to leave before he saw her, because he couldn't deal with how she would look at him in that moment. He already hated himself enough; he didn't need her hate on top of that. He doubted they'd ever see each other again.
Goodbye, Bobbi. Goodbye.
A/N: And if you've read One More Night, or just seen the show, really, you'll know how wrong that assumption of his was.
This is the story in chronological order, if you would like to read it that way:
Chapter 2
Bobbi's Chapter 14 POV
Chapter 12
Lance's Chapter 4 POV
Chapter 10
Chapter 6
Bobbi's Chapter 9 POV
Lance's Chapter 8 POv
Bobbi's second Chapter 8 POV
Bobbi's first Chapter 8 POV
Chapter 7
Lance's Chapter 9 POV
Chapter 5
Chapter 11
Bobbi's Chapter 4 POV
Chapter 13
Chapter 3
Lance's Chapter 14 POV
Chapter 1