FIC: "Pick-Me-Up", rated: everyone, no warningsspysinceraAugust 5 2012, 13:49:50 UTC
Every time she got hurt in the line of duty, the concern leapt into his throat, threatening to choke his voice and overwhelm his reason. Every time, he throttled it back. His voice was always clear when he said a brisk, "Need a hand, Nat?" and -- provided she was well enough to speak -- her response was invariably, "I'm fine. Keep your eyes on your target, Barton."They were the only two ordinary humans on their team, and he worried about her. It was obviously the height of sexism to think of her as being more delicate than himself solely by virtue of being female, and if he ever voiced such a sentiment, he was extremely confident that she could and would put him in the hospital to show him exactly how misplaced his concern was. She was no weakling, and she had no pity, and her close-quarters combat skills outclassed his own
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