A/N: Hey everyone! This chapter has been slightly edited if you have read it before. Either way, this is a crossover fic heavily featuring Olicity and Clintasha (2 of my OTPs) so if you don't ship them, I warning you now, you probably won't care to read this. Also, I am still working on this fic, it's just a long term work in progress. So please be patient with me even though it takes me quite a while to get updates out. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy it!

"Here it is," Oliver announced with a smile that seemed to stay on his face more often than not these days, as they climbed out of the car into the early morning sunlight that bright July day.

"Yes, our new house is wonderful," Felicity agreed. "I just wish we didn't have to go through all the tedious unpacking that comes with moving."

"Hon, is it really unpacking if we just bought all of this stuff today? It's not like we brought any furniture on our road trip."

"Yes, it is most definitely still unpacking," she grumbled.

"Okay, well let's get this stuff inside and unpacked as soon as we can," Oliver responded, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around Felicity.

"This isn't very conducive to unpacking," she informed him, a smile growing on her face, making no move to extricate herself from his embrace. "I can't believe we actually bought a house. Are you sure you really want to stay in one place permenantly?" she asked him.

"Well we did already buy the house," Oliver laughed. "And yes I'm sure. I'm happy wherever I'm with you, and we agreed that this little town seemed like the right place to stop. Sure I never pictured myself living in Waverly, Iowa in a farmhouse, but it's nice here."

"We're not actually going to have a farm right?" Felicity asked.

"No, we're not," he chuckled. "Now come on, let's get moved in."

"Okay," she agreed, spinning around to give him a quick kiss before moving to start getting boxes out of the U-Haul.

Oliver pulled the key out of his pocket, walked up to the front door of their new home, and unlocked it. As he began to turn the doorknob, he got an idea. Sneakily he walked back to where Felicity was taking boxes out of the trailer and scooped her up into his arms.

"Hey!" she protested weakly. "What was that for?"

"I thought I should carry you over the threshold," he said with a smile, walking towards the door.

"Oliver, hon, that's for when you get married, not for when you buy a new house," she explained, secretly thrilled. This trip had brought out a side of Oliver that Felicity had rarely seen before, and she loved this affectionate, carefree, joking version of him. And honestly she wasn't going to complain about being in his arms.

"I'm glad you like being in my arms. And too bad, I've already picked you up, so I'll just have to carry you inside anyways."

Oops, she must have said that out loud. Oh well.

He carried her up to the front door, and Felicity reached down to open it. Taking a few steps into the foyer, he looked down at her with a smile then leaned in to give her a kiss.

"Okay," Felicity said with a smile on her face as she pulled away. "Let's use these muscles to carry in the boxes instead of carrying me," she told him, patting his arm.

"If you say so," he replied, setting her down, and the two of them went back outside to start moving the boxes into their new home.

"Clint, look," Natasha said, pointing out the window as their cat Liho rubbed against her legs.

"What?" he asked looking up from the arrows he was sharpening at the kitchen table.

"The new neighbors are moving in today."

"Really? I was wondering if they were ever coming," he said as he stood up and joined Nat at the window.

The sight that greeted him wasn't what Clint expected. As soon as they found out that the house next to his that had been empty for years had been purchased, he and Natasha had looked into the buyer to find out as much about them as they could. After Nat had released all of SHEILD and consequently Hydra's information to the public, they had gone to ground here since Clint's childhood home was one of their few safe houses that were not registered with SHEILD. Strangely, though, all they could find when they looked into the buyers (using less than legal methods, but hey they were spies, that's what they did) was that a couple named Oliver and Felicity had purchased the house. There was no info on when they were moving in or where they were from. Nothing. Without even last names to go by, it wasn't that odd that they hadn't found out anything else. By the names however, Clint had assumed that they were an older couple. That however, couldn't be further from the truth.

The sight that greeted Clint was a young couple that appeared to be around his and Nat's age. A tiny blonde woman with glasses and a ponytail and a tall muscular man with a face full of stubble were smiling as they moved boxes from the U-Haul in their driveway into their new house.

"Huh," was all Clint said.

"Not what you expected," Nat asked him with a smirk.

"No, I mean, Oliver and Felicity don't exactly sound like young people names. And really, what's a, I'm guessing, newly married couple their age doing moving to Waverly, Iowa?"

"They're not married. No rings or signs of them that I can see. They sure do act married though," Natasha corrected him, twisting the simple silver ring she wore on her left hand. It wasn't just a cover. The two of them had been married for a few years, but no one at SHEILD exactly knew that, so actually wearing their rings was a fairly new development.

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "That makes it even stranger though. You wouldn't exactly expect a guy and a girl living together unmarried to move into small town Iowa."

"There's definitely something different about them."

"Well at least we've found something to do!" Clint said with a smile. "Weren't you just complaining the other day about how bored you've been since we stopped working for SHEILD?"

"I guess I should bake them a pie or something then. That's what people here do right?" Tasha asked him with a small sarcastic smile, closing the curtains and walking away from the window before they were noticed.

"Yeah that sounds like something a nice little housewife would do," Clint joked.

"Don't think for a second I'm making it by myself Barton," she told him with a good-natured glare.

"Oh of course. I've always got your back Nat," he jibed back. "So what kind of pie are we making? Actually, do you know how to make pie? Because I sure don't."

"We don't have any fruit," she told him, looking into the fridge. "What kind of pie can you make without fruit?"

"I remember my mom used to make a great peanut butter pie when I was little."
"Perfect. We actually have peanut butter. Any chance you have your mom's recipe?" she asked hopefully.

"Sadly no. I'm sure we can find something online though. Maybe we should find a video that teaches you how to make pie. We want it to be edible…" he muttered.

"Take that back. I make edible food," Natasha said as she lightly slapped his arm.

"Um, Tasha, you do remember when you tried to make me dinner for my birthday and we both got food poisoning, right?" Clint asked, slowly backing away.

"Okay, yes, but this is dessert. It's different, hopefully," she mumbled the last part.

Clint shot her a look that clearly said he knew what she said even if she hadn't said it loud enough for his hearing aids to pick up. He was able to read lips after all.

"Okay fine, we'll find an instructional video. I don't want to kill our new neighbors… probably."

Clint just laughed, grabbed the iPad off the kitchen table, and began looking up how to make a peanut butter pie on Google.

"Okay," Felicity announced, closing the door behind her. "That's everything."

"Now we just have to assemble all this stuff and figure out where we want it."

"I can build a computer. I'm sure that a bookshelf and various other furniture from Ikea can't be that hard," Felicity declared. "So what first?"

"Lunch?" Oliver asked as his stomach grumbled.

"Yeah that sounds like a good plan," Felicity laughed. "I saw a little café on Main Street. Do you want to walk or drive?"

"Let's walk. It's nice out," he said with a smile.

"Perfect," Felicity said with a smile, grabbing her purse from where she had dropped it by the front door when they arrived, and walked out the door.

Oliver followed and shut the door behind them, before taking her hand in his and heading towards Main Street.

"How long do you think it's going to take to put all the furniture together," he asked her.

This was all new to him. He had never bought a house or even moved before. When he went to his various colleges, his parents always hired movers to set up his apartment at whatever school he was attending. Of course he had set up the lair in the Foundry, but that was different. And those tables had come pre-assembled.

"Oh we definitely won't be able to get it all done today. We should probably do the bedroom stuff first, so, you know, we have somewhere to sleep tonight. We can go room by room from there."

"Sounds like a good plan," he agreed.

"Hey, did you notice that our neighbors have a dog? I saw one running around in their back yard," she told him randomly.

"Yeah I did. Why? Did you want to get a pet?"

"Nooo no. I struggle to keep plants alive, let alone a living creature. I'd probably forget to feed it or something."

"Maybe let's start with a plant then. We can work up to it. That way if we ever do want to get a dog or something we'll be somewhat prepared," he laughed.

"Okay, how about a fern?" Felicity joked.

"You read my mind," Oliver quipped back as they arrived at the café.

When they walked inside, the café was fairly empty since it was almost two o'clock, not quite lunchtime anymore.

A waitress called out, "you two sit wherever you want. I'll be right with you!"

"Thank you," Oliver replied, still holding Felicity's hand.

They sat down at a booth, on the same side, and waited for the waitress, a slightly frumpy looking middle aged woman, to come over with two menus.

"Passing through on vacation?" she asked conversationally, setting the menus in front of them with a smile.

"No, we actually just moved here," Felicity replied with a bright smile, squeezing Oliver's hand that she held on top of the table.

"Oh! You two must be the couple that bought the house next to the old Barton farm! We've all been wondering when you all would arrive."

"That's us. I'm Oliver, and this is Felicity."

"Well it's nice to meet you Oliver and Felicity. My name is Susan Jones. So, what would you two like to drink?"

"I'll have a water," Felicity responded.

"So will I," Oliver added.

"All right, two waters coming right up. You all just let me know when you decide what you want to order."

"Thank you," Felicity told her as Susan walked away.

"You're welcome dear."

At seven o'clock that evening, Clint and Natasha decided that their new neighbors were probably done with dinner—or definitely done since they saw them eating a pizza earlier through the window— and it was a good time to bring the pie they had baked over. They stepped outside their home, Natasha holding the pie, and began to walk over to their neighbors'.

"So how does this whole welcome the new neighbors thing work? Will they invite us in, or do we just stand at the front door and talk?" she asked Clint.

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you grew up here whereas I grew up in a training camp in Russia where they taught little girls to be assassins. None of my covers ever involved being a sweet country housewife."

"Well a carnie turned assassin turned secret agent isn't much better in the quaint neighborhood manners area."

"Yes but you lived here for ten years," she whispered as they arrived at the front door of their neighbors' home.

"And we never had new neighbors," he whispered back.

"Okay fine, just ring the doorbell and play nice. We're some of the best covert agents in the world. We can figure out how to be the Eastwoods, a friendly couple who brings pie to their new neighbors." Natasha took a deep breath and let herself settle into the role.

Clint just smirked and pressed the button to ring the doorbell.

The door opened slowly to reveal a large man, Oliver according to their research, standing almost menacingly in the doorway with the small blonde, Felicity, babbling as she came up behind him.

"Oliver, honestly, I'm sure it's just our neighbors or something. No one here wants to kill us, or do anything dastardly. Did I seriously just say dastardly? Anyway, we're perfectly safe… Oh hi!" she said brightly, realizing the door was open.

"Hey, we're the Eastwoods. I'm Clint, and this is my wife Nat," he introduced them, hoping to show their honest intentions. Well semi-honest intentions seeing as they were using fake names, had dyed their hair to disguise their appearances, and were trying to covertly get more info on the strange couple that apparently had people who might want to kill them, but Clint filed that little fact away for later thought.

"We made you a pie to say welcome to the neighborhood!" Natasha added cheerily.

"Ooh, what kind of pie?" the blonde woman asked, shoving the man, whose expression had softened a good bit since the door opened, to the side a little. "I mean, I'm sorry, let me start over. Hi, I'm Felicity, and this is Oliver. We just moved in as you already know."

Clint chuckled. "Hello Felicity, Oliver," he said, nodding to the two. "And no worries, I would care more about the pie too. It's peanut butter by the way, old family recipe," he explained as Nat offered it to Oliver.

"Felicity is allergic to nuts," was the first thing Clint and Natasha heard come out of Oliver's mouth.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," Nat said, looking concerned, and playing her part flawlessly in Clint's eyes. "I didn't even think you might have allergies! It's not going to make you sick or anything just having it here, will it?"

"Thankfully no. I'm not that quite allergic. We really appreciate the gesture though," Felicity added, nudging Oliver in the side as she did.

"Yes thank you we do appreciate the thought. It's nice to meet you seeing as how we are neighbors now and all," Oliver told them with a smile appearing on his face, suddenly becoming more social at the prompting of Felicity.

"It's so nice to finally have people living here. And there aren't that many other younger couples in town. We only moved here about a year ago ourselves, so we're always looking to make new friends," Clint added.

The last part was a blatant lie of course. The two assassins where definitely what one might call loners, however, to keep their cover in tact they had to at least play at being social.

"We would invite you in but honestly, the house is a gigantic mess right now since we're still unpacking. Sorry if we came off rude just making you stand here at our front door."

"Oh that's perfectly understandable. Don't worry about it. We will have to make you another pie though since you obviously can't eat this one," Nat told her.

"No, it's fine you don't have to go through the trouble," Felicity told her, still smiling.

It was then that Clint noticed Oliver's arm wrapped around her waist and the small smile he directed at her as she spoke. If they weren't already engaged, and he didn't see a ring on Felicity's finger to indicate that they were, then he bet they would be within the year. He knew the look a man gave a woman he was willing to do anything for—he had that same look when he looked at Tasha sometimes—and it was written all over Oliver's face.

"If you're sure… Well at least say you will come over for dinner tomorrow night then. Let me guess, you're living off take out right now and your fridge is probably empty. Let us fix you some real food," Nat offered in response.

"We wouldn't want to impose," Oliver said. "And we actually have unpacked our kitchen supplies. Felicity insisted those be one of the first things we unpacked."

"It's no problem. We'd love to have you over and get to know the two of you better," Clint told them with a grin.

Felicity glanced up at Oliver, and she really did have to look up thanks to their massive height difference, as if to check that he was okay with her agreeing. He gave her a small smile and a nod, and Felicity looked back at Clint and Nat with a friendly smile once again lighting up her face.

"We'll be there then! What time would you like us to come over?" she asked brightly. Felicity was definitely the most talkative of the pair.

"Stop by around six thirty. Neither of you are allergic to cats are you?" Clint asked.

"Nope, no animal allergies here!" Felicity declared.

"Can we bring anything tomorrow night?" Oliver asked.

"We wouldn't want you to have to go to the store just so you can bring something over," Nat told them.

"Oh Oliver loves to cook, and we're going grocery shopping tomorrow anyways. If you don't ask him to bring something, he'll end up bringing something anyways and you won't get any say in what it is," Felicity jibed.

"Guilty as charged." Oliver said, finally removing his arm from Felicity's waist and holding them both up a little to indicate his supposed guilt. "I do love cooking, so just tell me what to bring."

Clint, already thinking this whole plan was a bad idea since neither he nor Natasha could cook particularly well, decided to suggest dessert. If the guy who loved to cook, and was obviously good at it from the way Felicity gushed about his cooking, brought an appetizer, their cooking would likely be disgusting in comparison. So dessert it was. Nat, seemingly on the same train of thought as him, beat him to the punch.

"How about you just bring a dessert?" she suggested.

"Perfect," Oliver responded. "Do you two have any kids, or will it just be the four of us?"

"No kids," Natasha said, "just the two of us along with Lucky and Liho, our dog and cat."

"Well, we look forward to seeing you two tomorrow. And thanks again for the pie, even though I can't eat it!" Felicity told them.

"I guess you're welcome," Clint chuckled. "Good night. I hope the rest of the unpacking goes smoothly."

"Good night," Oliver and Felicity chorused.

"Bye," Natasha said with a small wave as she and Clint began to turn away and the door to Oliver and Felicity's home began to close.

Before the door shut all the way, however, Clint glimpsed a quiver full of arrows sitting in the hall. Interesting. So one of their new neighbors was interested in archery. This could be fun.

"They seemed nice Oliver," Felicity whispered as they lay in bed that night, exhausted from their long day of unpacking and setting up their new home, and they weren't even half finished yet.

"Who?" he murmured, snuggling closer to her.

"Clint and Nat, our neighbors," she replied. "What other they did we meet today?"

"You're right," he told her, "as always. Although something about them seemed just a little odd. I mean Clint Eastwood… that has to be a fake name."

"Oliver, you're too suspicious. They seemed perfectly nice to me. Maybe not quite acclimated to small town Iowa life, but they did say they've only lived here for around a year."

"You're probably right. It's just hard for me to let go of that suspicious instinct."

"Like when you glared at them when you first opened the door and used your growly voice," Felicity giggled. "I'm surprised they didn't run away before even offering us the pie. Speaking of, they've obviously figured out the small town life to some extent seeing as they kept the cliché of bringing the new neighbors baked goods. Too bad I couldn't eat it because it looked good," she babbled, only stopping because Oliver pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"As much as I love to listen to you babble," he told her as he pulled away slowly, "I am actually kind of exhausted after today. Who knew moving was such hard work?"

"Well I did, seeing as how I have moved before without hiring people to set up for me, mister former billionaire. However, I," she yawned, "am exhausted too. Let's finish this conversation tomorrow."

"Brilliant as always. I love you."

"I love you too," she replied back as she closed her eyes and snuggled closer, a smile appearing on her face at hearing the words that had become so commonplace but still so cherished during their road trip.

"So, Oliver and Felicity… We still don't know their last names. They're obviously not married because no rings, also if they were I guarantee that Felicity would have introduced Oliver as her husband," Clint listed off as he and Nat sat on their couch.

"I agree. And did you hear what Felicity was saying when Oliver opened the door about no one here wanting to kill them? Something is definitely up. I knew that younger unmarried couples don't move to Waverly, Iowa for no reason," Nat added.

"Agreed, and speaking of young couples, you played the part of a housewife particularly well tonight if I may say so. Now Tasha, go make me a sandwich."

She punched him in the arm in response. "You better be glad I know you're joking. As you're well aware, I'm not your maid."

"Uh, speaking of cooking though, how are we going to make an edible dinner for tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, I was deep in character. Nat would have invited them over. It would have been rude not to. I guess we'll just have to use some more YouTube videos and maybe the Food Network."

"We could also try the pie, since Felicity couldn't eat it, just to make sure it's okay," Clint suggested, hopping up and grabbing two plates and forks from the kitchen.

"We might as well," she conceded as he sliced the pie. "Hopefully it's as good as your mom's or at least not awful. And what is our luck that she's allergic to nuts?"

"I know right. Oh, hey," he said as he handed her a slice of pie, "I saw a quiver in their hallway as we were leaving. I'm betting its muscle man Oliver's and not tiny Felicity's."

"Maybe you two can bond over archery at dinner tomorrow night if you can convince him you're just an enthusiast and not, you know, a former Avenger."

"Maybe so, but back to the whole worrying about someone wanting to kill them. What could they be running from?"

"If they were running they would have seemed more nervous. It seemed to me more like Oliver was falling back on old habits. If Felicity's words can be trusted, it seems like the danger they were in is likely over."

"Or she was just exaggerating and Oliver is super paranoid," Clint added, setting the pie down slowly on the coffee table, having only eaten one bite.

Tasha had yet to take a bite of hers, and gave him a look that said, 'is it really that bad?'

Clint nodded yes in response before yawning loudly.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing Felicity is allergic to nuts then. We'll have to be more careful with dinner tomorrow."

"We can always make a bunch of canned stuff and try to pass it off as homemade."

"That can be plan B, but if Oliver loves cooking as much as he claims, I'm sure he'll know if we make canned vegetables. Plus we have all those vegetables you grow anyways. Either way, we can handle that tomorrow. Now, I think, if that yawn you let out a minute ago is anything to go by, we should call it a night."

"Good plan Tasha," Clint said through another yawn.

The two assassins got up, double checked that all their doors and windows were locked, turned off the living room light, and walked back to their bedroom to get ready to go to bed.

Once they were both in their pajamas, Clint removed his hearing aids and climbed under the covers. Natasha followed suit and turned off the light on her bedside table.

"Спокойной ночи Наташа," Clint whispered. (Goodnight Natasha.)

She signed back, goodnight Clint, before closing her eyes and sliding into his arms, both falling asleep easily knowing the other had their back in case anything happened.

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