A/N: This story is actually complete, so I will be uploading it gradually over the next week or two as I edit it. It starts out with humor, but will move into drama and action. Thanks for reading, and if you have the time, please consider reviewing. :)

Tony was having a late night. After repairing the repulsors on the left gauntlet of his armor for four hours, repairing the cracked chest piece for five, and re-wiring the thrusters for three, he had finally realized he was starving.

There weren't many other people here, and it was late enough no one was in sight as he entered the kitchen. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Banner for two days, having no national emergencies. The man still kept to himself even after a few people on the team had done their best to bring him into the fold. He supposed old habits died hard. Rogers was probably asleep. The man didn't have much patience for modern entertainment when he got bored, turning instead to books or sleep. He was always under the impression that he could get ahead on his eight hours or whatever by catching shut eye when he could. Banner had tried to explain it didn't work that way, but his advice had been ignored.

Tony rummaged around in the fridge, looking for something that wasn't cold cuts. He could sleep when he was dead, he mused. Ah, cold cheese pizza. That was a bit better. He reached in and unwrapped it from the saran wrap, leaving the trash inside. He had taken two bites when he heard footsteps down the hall. Curious, he popped his head around the fridge door.

Clint Barton was walking in a rushed fashion down the hall, occasionally looking over his shoulder.

"Wop are you dune eer?" Tony said loudly around a mouthful of pizza.

Clint whipped his head back around noticing Tony in the sparsely lighted kitchen for the first time. "Oh, uh, you, good." Clint moved over to the stove area, opposite Tony.

Tony swallowed. "Well, of course I'm always nice to see…unless you're planning on doing something horrible." Realization dawned on Tony as Clint peered back over his shoulder into the darkened hallway. "Wait…you didn't piss off Banner, did you? Cause while that would be awesome, I just spend forty thousand dollars replacing the last rooms he destroyed in the house."

Clint turned back around, squinting in confusion at him. "What? No. No."

"I don't really believe you."

"It's Coulson!" Clint hissed.

"Coulson? What the hell is he doing here at one in the morning? Wait, what are you doing here at one in the morning? I thought you were going…home or…wherever it is that you go."

A noise sounded from the hallway, and Coulson ducked behind the kitchen island, pulling Tony down with him. "He was waiting for me…" he whispered. "I haven't turned in paperwork from the Salt Lake thing."

"Clint, that was over six weeks ago. Even I turned it in."

"Shh! I know! He's been going on about since I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D trained operative, I should be setting an example! But I just…forgot, ok? And then he was waiting at my apartment, so I came here, and he followed me…"

Tony grinned, letting out a huff. "You came here? You didn't think he'd figure that out?"

"I…well…no!" Clint defended indignantly. "And then Jarvis told him I was here."

Another noise sounded from the hall, and Clint cursed. Tony stood up, while Clint hissed at him and pulled his pant leg.

"Jarvis," he said quietly. "Deny you know the whereabouts of Hawkeye if Coulson asks again in the next week."

"I'll try to be discreet, Sir."

"And dim the lights." In response, the already dim lights dipped into darkness.

Just as Tony could make out the dark outlines of Agent Phil Coulson striding quickly down the hall. Despite the darkness, Coulson stopped just outside the kitchen, regarding Tony's outline. Clint was silent and still, still holding Tony's pant leg behind the island. "Mr. Stark?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes! Yes, it is me. How are you?"

"Why are you up here in the dark?" Coulson's voice had gone from questioning to suspicious in less than a second.

"I do all my best thinking in the dark. And silence. Dummy's too loud downstairs."

"Right." Coulson said in a tone that said he clearly didn't believe him. "Have you seen Hawkeye?"

"Nope, just been me here. And Banners and Rogers. I think they're asleep."

"Jarvis told me he was here."

"Maybe he was. It's a big place. I didn't see him though." Now that his eyes were adjusting, Tony could better make out the raised eyebrow and suspicious frown on Coulson's face. "Jarvis, can you get a trace on Hawkeye?" Tony asked.

"I'm sorry Sir, but I am no longer picking up any trace of him in the mansion." Tony smiled widely at Coulson.

"You're sure you didn't see him."

Tony pretended to think. "Noooope, I've only seen me. And my robot. That's it. I haven't even seen any porn today-"

"-Thank you, Mister Stark. If you see him, please call me." Coulson spun on his heel, moving back towards the elevator. From below him, he heard Clint give a sigh of relief.

"Porn? That was the best thing you could come up with?" he hissed.

Tony shrugged. "Made him leave, didn't it? Anyways, you owe me one. And you owe Jarvis one too."

Tony shrugged. "Made him leave, didn't it? Anyways, you owe me one. And you owe Jarvis one too. He likes to be thanked with female Japanese sex robots."

"As inaccurate as ever, Sir."