Author's Note: Well, hello there! I'm back at fanfiction with my first Avengers story! It's been a long time since I wrote something, since I started college in August, but I'm pretty proud of this.

This is Steve/OC, though Steve is going to take a bit to appear. The dates I chose come from the Marvel wiki and in some cases, my own head. The first few chapters are very much focused on Mack's joining SHIELD and the beginning of everything, but before Steve comes, we'll get a few other appearances. You'll see starting Chapter 3 who can show up here. I think that's about it for now.

I don't own Avengers, of course. That honor belongs to people much higher than me in the Geek Hierarchy. I merely occupy the levels of a fanfiction author and a Tumblr fanatic. So this is just for fun and to lay off steam when college gets too much.

Enjoy, my lovelies. Oh, minor swearing, but nothing the average college/ high school student hasn't heard.

EDIT 10/17: Writing in present tense annoyed me, I rewrote everything. Woo.
EDIT 12/26: Finished some tense issues and added a few new details.

Bohemia
In her three years at SHIELD, Mackenzie Donahue has run into some strange things. Weird hammers, egocentric billionaires, and of course her archer SO. Somehow, a gentleman soldier out of his time turns out to be the best of it all. Steve/OC

Chapter 1 – Before the Storm

May 15, 2008

It hadn't taken her long to realize that the newcomer to the bar was watching her.

Mackenzie Donahue was not a stranger to the attention she was sometimes subjected to. All the bartenders at this little dive were used to it; they were warned about it from day one. The girls at the bar, however, were forced to deal with it more.

The other staff members wound go after any of the customers that went too far. Greg, the owner of the bar, often loudly proclaimed for all the customers to hear that he had his shotgun in the back and wasn't afraid to use it. Mack herself kept her old field hockey near at hand during her shifts, just in case.

Mack had assumed it had been that at first; he thought she was cute and was trying to figure out a way to ask her out. But it had never come.

He came every night that she had been there. He'd occasionally wear sunglasses or a hat, or bulky sweatshirts, but she could always tell it was the same guy. He never sat in her section, but it didn't take her long to realize he had been watching her.

She didn't feel threatened by his staring, not yet, and so did not mention it to any of her coworkers. Several had noticed, but Mack didn't dwell on it.

She had her field hockey stick, after all.

It was only when three weeks had past of this guy watching her that Mack finally said something.

"He just orders water," her coworker Emma told her as Mack grabbed her purse and field hockey stick at the end of her 2 am shift. The man had left a while ago, and Mack was convinced that he had memorized her schedule. It didn't seem like too farfetched a possibility.

Mack nodded as she slid her purse over her shoulder. Her grip on the field hockey stick tightened. "Was he here any night I wasn't?" she asked, curious. She hoped that he was. She was busy enough; she had no time to deal with a stalker.

Of course, Mack had never been the luckiest of girls. She failed in biting back an irritated groan as Emma nodded in answer to her question.

Wonderful. She had a stalker. She already had enough to worry about, with packing her apartment up in preparation for her move to New York City to start graduate school at Empire State University, her puppy Arizona's refusal to be potty trained, and trying to finish her study on PTSD in war veterans for publishing at the urging of her adviser at Culver.

"Is he a friend of yours?" Emma asked, bringing her back to reality a few moments later. She smirked and added, with a crazed look Mack recognized immediately, "He's kinda cute."

Mack rolled her eyes, wondering how Emma could have forgotten so quickly that this mysterious man has, in fact, been stalking her. "He hasn't said anything to me."

"He's still cute. A stalker, but cute. Speaking of which-"

"I am not getting into another Twilight debate, Emma!" Mack rolled her eyes as she walked out of the bar amidst Emma's cackles. She didn't think again her mysterious stalker, and instead focused on getting home.

Or rather, she didn't think of him again until she returned to her apartment and found him waiting for her. Inside her apartment. Kneeling on the ground and trying to coax Arizona, her adorable German Shepherd puppy, out of hiding from the far room.

She still had her field hockey stick at least. Mack didn't scream when she saw him. Instead, she stood in the doorway, staring at him as her eyes adjusted to the light in the room. He stood slowly, holding his hands up in surrender, but he seemed almost amused at the situation.

"I'm not here to hurt you-"

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence. Mack swung her field hockey stick with all the strength she had in her. To her horror, he dodged easily, diving to the ground and rolling a bit out of the way. Arizona yelped and ran away, skidding across the hardwood floor and escaping into the bedroom. Mack knew instantly that Arizona would hide under the bed, but not without leaving another accident on the floor, of course.

Mack held the field hockey stick up, keeping it between her and the intruder as he stood, still holding his hands up. The look on his face was a mix between amusement and surprise as he took another step back, and she realized that he was trying to give her some space.

Oh, so he was a considerate stalker. How nice of him.

Mack found her voice a moment later, though it was several pitches higher than normal. "Okay, what the fuck is going on!? You stalk me at my job for three weeks, break into my apartment – who the fuck are you!?" She gestured wildly with the field hockey stick as she tried to breathe.

Before he could reply, she swung her field hockey stick, hoping for the element of surprise. Instead, he grabbed it mid swing, holding it in place as he stood and raised an eyebrow at her. She was too startled to give him anything other than an exasperated scowl.

"Look, my name is Clint Barton." He let go of the stick and held out his hands again. Mack raised the field hockey stick between them again, glaring at him. "I can explain this."

"Explain why you broke into my apartment after you've been spying on me for three weeks?!" Mack yelled, more furious than scared now. The realization hit her rather quickly a moment ago; if this guy had the skills to catch a field hockey stick in midair, he probably had the skills to kill her without her ever realizing.

If he wanted her dead, Mack realized, she would be dead.

He didn't look upset. Instead, he nodded, almost impressed as he said, "I thought you noticed me. You're even more observant than we thought you might be. That's good."

Mack tightened her grasp on her field hockey stick, keeping it between him and her.

"Can I explain at least?" Barton asked. He gestured toward her kitchen table, and finally Mack noticed the cartons of Chinese food from a wonderful little place downtown, not too far away from the bar. Mack loved that Chinese place; she had been there once a week for the past three years. "That's the peace offering for breaking into your apartment."

The son of a bitch brought her favorite food. He had so been stalking her. She glared at him still, and realizes that how stupid she might be right now. But dammit, she was curious about why he'd been following her. Curiosity had always been Mack's downfall. And as her stomach growled, Mack realized she was hungry.

She groaned and set down her hockey stick. "Make it quick."

After a half an hour of cleaning the glass from the floor, reheating the Chinese food, coaxing Arizona out from under the bed, and listening to her stalker explain what exactly he wanted and who he was working for, Mack was ready to beat him with her field hockey stick. Again

As hungry as she was, Mack didn't eat much of the food. She was too focused on what Crazy Stalker Guy told her, and she wondered for a second what parallel universe she wandered into when she wasn't looking.

"Bullshit." Mack sat on her couch, with Arizona on her lap, scratching her puppy's ears as she listened to Barton. Arizona's ears perked up at the tone of Mack's voice, and the psychology graduate was not surprised when her dog abandoned her and scurried back into her bedroom.

Traitorous hound.

Sitting in the leather chair that had once belonged to her father, Barton smirked from across the living room. "Strong reaction there."

She gave a sarcastic laugh as she waved her hands in the air. "You're absolutely insane."

"I'm telling the truth."

"You want to recruit me for a secret organization?" Mack asked, sitting on her couch as she watched Barton carefully.

The scariest thing about Barton was that she could tell he wasn't lying. Mack had been a psychology student long enough to read people well enough to tell when they were lying. That meant there were two options; that Barton was a good enough liar for her not to realize or he was telling the truth. There was every chance that the first was true, especially if Barton was who he said he was.

She was quickly realizing that the second option was more likely.

"SHIELD," Barton corrected. "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. SHIELD if you want to save a few breaths."

Mack knew there was no way that she would be able to call the cops. She was also convinced that he was telling the truth. Mack decided to humor him a bit. "So, why would you want to recruit me?" she asked, her voice dry. "My skills with a field hockey stick?

Barton rolled his eyes. "Someone brought you to our attention. You're good with people; you can read them and make others trust you easily. It's a natural charisma. You read me and knew you could trust me."

Mack snorted, but scowled internally as she realized Barton was exactly right. "I don't know if I was right about that-"

"You're talking to me now and you haven't called the cops. You know I'm not going to hurt you. If I wanted to, I would have already," Barton interrupted, raising an eyebrow as he dared her to contradict him. She didn't, and he continued, "This is an opportunity. We think you could make a difference."

He rattled off some other things – some benefits, paperwork and orientation, some mention about her candidacy for field agent due to her physical and emotional training. It was around that point that Mack realized that her head was spinning due to the fact that a secret organization was attempting to recruit her as a possible secret agent.

"Can I think about this, please?" she interrupted, massaging her temples as she tried to set her world right side up again.

The scariest part about the situation was that she was very seriously considering his offer. All through her childhood, Mack's brother and mother and sister had told her that curiosity killed the cat, to which she had always replied that cats had nine lives. She was reckless and wanted adventure, she wanted to do something with her life.

Mack had always been curious, and had always been one to take chances. The offer to join SHIELD just might be the one thing Mack needed to get her out of the boring office job she had dreaded for years.

"You can think about it." Mack nodded at Barton's answer, a bit wary, and watched him as he walked to the door, turning to her before opening it. "I'll call you in a few days, find out your decision. I left my number on the table, call if you need me. Okay?"

Mack nodded, and realized just how much thinking she had to do.

May 16, 2008

She was attacked as she left work the next day.

Mack had been distracted all day, her thoughts consumed by Barton's offer. Her other option, the option she had planned months ago, years ago, was to move up to New York in July to begin her graduate studies at Empire State University. She had been so distracted today that she had forgotten her field hockey stick at home.

It happened without warning. Someone grabbed her when she tried to unlock her car. In a series of quick, harsh moves, Mack was turned around, moved a few feet to the side and backward, and slammed against the hood of her car.

She screamed, more out of alarm than pain, though her back throbbed with the latter in a steady beat. Something cold was pushed against her head, and with a choked sob, she realized it was the barrel of a gun.

"Who's the agent who was talking to you?" her attacker demanded. She couldn't see any of his features in the dim lighting from the street lamp above, but she knew instantly she was in the deepest trouble she had ever been in.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Mack yelled back, struggling as much as she dared with a weapon at her head. "I didn't do anything!"

"You lying bitch!" Mack yelped as he backhanded her, and she sobbed again, the gun pressing harder against her head. "Who is the agent talking to you? Tell me!"

"Barton!" she yelled. Her body shook with sobs and panic. She was not ready to die yet. She did not want to die yet, and she knew that this man would not hesitate in putting a bullet through her brain. "His name was Barton, I didn't know anything else!"

He growled and slapped her again, and she screamed, "I don't know! He wanted me to join SHIELD! I didn't say yes, please let me go!"

He didn't hit her again. Instead, he stood there, staring at her, his hand around her neck, keeping her against the car, and she choked back a sob. "Please, let me go," she begged. She had her pride, but she wanted her life more.

She was twenty-two years old. She was not ready to die, not yet.

"SHIELD will not get their hands on you," the man murmured with a crazed look. Mack gave a strangled sob, giving one last desperate effort to escape before exhaustion kept her against the car. She knew fighting was her only option, but her senses and instincts were clouded with fear and pain.

She froze as the gun clicked against her head. "Please, no-" she begged.

"Goodbye, Miss Donahue."

Just before he pulled the trigger, something slammed into him. She screamed as gun went off a few inches from her head, breaking the windshield of her car. The pressure around her neck disappeared as her attacker tumbled heavily to the ground. She collapsed against her car, and frantically tried to see what had happened.

Dimly, she realized that someone had saved her life. The world around her became clearer as she realized that someone had tackled the man who had nearly shot her, saving her life in the process. The street lamp was still on, and it was in that moment that Mack caught a glimpse of her savior's face.

In a burst of clarity, she realized who it was.

Barton.

She hurried to her feet, leaning heavily against the hood of her car as she watched the fight. The way Barton fought was almost an art style, a combination of quick kicks and strong punches, but she was too numb to appreciate it. Barton had the upper hand in a few moments, and with one strong punch to the jaw, Mack's attacker was unconscious on the ground.

"Are you alright?" Barton asked, his voice rough as he turned, watching her with what she recognized as concern.

Mack stumbled back, leaning heavily against the car. "Oh my God."

She closed her eyes, pressing her hands to her temples as her body shook. Something hot was on her face, and she realized she was bleeding. The world around her was spinning, and Mack's body was shaking more with every second.

She flinched as strong hands gripped her shoulders tightly. "Hey, look at me." Mack's eyes opened and met Barton's, but her world slowly faded to black. "Mackenzie, look at me, look at me, stay awake! Stay with me-"

Mack collapsed, unconscious, in his arms a moment later.

A half an hour later, she sat in the back of an ambulance, a blanket around her shoulders, surveying the scene around her.

Mack had only been unconscious for a few minute, and yet the parking lot had filled to capacity within that time. She had caught sight of a furious Greg and a terrified Emma, but neither had noticed her among the men in the black suits. She watched everything, and realized how much had happened since the attack. At least twenty others had shown up, and from the way that several of them had nodded and saluted Barton, she realized how screwed up her night has become.

One thing in particular stood out in her mind. Each black car had a symbol on it – an eagle, wings spread. She recognized it from somewhere, but could not for the life of her figure out where she knew it from. One doctor had told her it was SHIELD's symbol, but Mack could not figure out how she would know their symbol beforehand.

As she tried to stay calm, Mack heard pieces of a conversation nearby. One word stuck in her head, and she wondered what a hydra had to do with whoever had attacked her.

She was not surprised when Barton sat next to her, breaking her out of her near catatonic reverie. For someone who had just defeated and completely destroyed a clearly well-trained soldier, he seemed impossibly calm.

Lucky bastard.

"He's been taking into custody," Barton told her gently. "You're safe."

"He was going to kill me." The shock and terror had worn away to numbness, and Mack was unaware of how she should react to almost dying. Someone tried to kill her because SHIELD had attempted to recruit her. God, when had her life become this?

She answered her own question a moment later. Her life became a circus when Clint fucking Barton had broken into her apartment and told her about SHIELD, and dammit, she was still not turned off to the idea of joining them. If she joined them, she would have something more to do with her life. That was something she had always wanted.

Barton did not lie to her, and instead nodded in confirmation. "He got close."

"I got lucky," she whispered. She was lucky that Barton had been there, lucky that he had been watching her still. Mack was only alive because of luck.

"Some people don't," Barton replied, and she appreciated his honesty at least. He seemed almost regretful, but Mack did not focus on that. "A lot of people go into this situation, and they don't make it out alive."

"I don't want to be that scared again," Mack blurted out, her hands shaking. Dammit, she had hoped her breakdown had ended a few minutes ago. Mack was crying a moment later, and realized in an instant that she would do anything never to feel that terrified again. "If I join you, can you make that happen?"

He didn't reply for a few moments.

"I can't promise you won't be scared again, even if you join SHIELD," Barton finally said. "But I can promise you that you can learn to fight back. I can teach you how to stop these people from doing this to others. You can do something, make a difference."

Barton stood then. She didn't flinch when he squeezed her shoulder. "I'll check on you tomorrow morning. Okay? Just get some rest tonight. We'll keep a guard on you. You'll be safe."

He began to walk away. Mack made her choice a second later.

"Barton."

He didn't turn around. For a moment, he stood there, waiting for her answer. Mackenzie Donahue took a deep breath stepped into the metaphorical plunge into the great unknown that was her future.

"I'm in."

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed. Here's the Chapter 2 preview. It'll hopefully be up later this week, see you all then!

Chapter 2 - Road to Ruin
Mack just glared at him as she groaned. "Wonderful. Just fantastic. I better not get shot at, Barton."