So just something I thought of...there will be a second chapter, I am already working on it. Excuse me if it is a little out of character. Enjoy, leave a review, let me know if it sucks or not. Have a great day!
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters :( Believe me, I WISH I owned Hawkeye :3
The Black sports car rolled to a stop in front of the STARK tower, it's driver killing the roaring engine. Clint Barton hopped out of the car, slinging his black bag over his shoulder. Things had been quiet lately, leaving him with too much time on his hands. And too much time meant to much thinking. And for him, those thoughts seemed to be stuck on one thing in particular.
He entered the building with a sigh, jumping when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. "You know, it's quite rude to just drop in."
"Ha, funny Stark. Let me go."
"I'm serious, I should call security on you."
"You're the one who decided to turn your basement into a high tech training center- you should expect vistors every once in a while."
"So far just you and Steve, not that I mind. Gives me more time to myself," he winked at Piper, who just rolled her eyes.
"Save me the love story. Code still the same?"
"No, I changed it. It is now "Tony Stark is a sexy beast." Hope you like saying that."
"Serious?" Clint frowned. "There is no way in hell I will say that."
"I'm just messing with you. Codes still the same. Talk to any of the others lately?"
"No," He sighed. "Just you and Steve."
"Everyone talks to me," Tony smiled. "But I have things that I need to get done. We are almost finished with repairs. Enjoy yourself." Clint nodded before heading towards the elevator, pressing the down key.
"Identification please," A voice similar to JARVIS requested.
"Clint Barton, Hawkeye," He laid his palm on the scanner.
"I.D confirmed. Password please."
"Captain Black Hawk Smashes Thor's Iron."
"Access granted."
Clint stepped into the elevator, pressing the basement key. The elevator jerked to life, taking him down towards the training area. Before Tony had started repairs on the tower, he had decided to give them a place to train, a place to get away. He had devoted the entire ground floor for a titanium arena, which altered to suit each Avengers needs. There was everything from Archery ranges, close combat zones, to weights with trucks on the end.
Clint stepped off the elevator into the dim room, walking over to a giant metal box. He opened it up, pulled the red lever inside. The arena sprang to life, electricity buzzing in the air as the lights overhead came on. He pushed a blue button with a hawk on it, then walked towards the middle of the arena.
The lights dimmed a bit, the walls taking on a darker color. He pulled out his bow, popping it into readiness before slinging his quiver over his shoulder. Walking to the middle of the room, he stood in the middle of the large blue circle, notching an arrow.
"Training Type "Hawkeye" activated. 30 minute session shall begin."
Clint took a deep breath as panels all around the room opened, robots heading his way. Stark had designed them as close to real enemies as he could, making their defenses as natural as possible. The first robot that headed his way was dressed like an alien, armor all over his body. His instincts took over, and he instantly placed an arrow in the robots knee, right in the chink of armor. It sank into the floor, the parts ready to be recycled into another robot.
More and more robots came at him, and soon he was down to his last arrow. He sent an exploding shaft right into a cluster of them before whipping out his knife, spinning around to blow the metal arm that lashed towards him. He disabled it, then run towards the next one, kicking off his chest and flipping him over backwards. He snapped the next ones neck, then embedded a knife in his eye.
"30 seconds remaining," came over the speaker.
Clint spun around, reading to embed his knife one last time as a hand clamped around his incoming wrist. But instead of cold metal, it was warm flesh. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing rapid as sweat poured down his back. The person in front of his didn't say anything, which was odd, especially for her.
"Trying to get yourself killed?" He asked, reclaiming his wrist and tossing the knife aside.
"No, just thought I'd stop by."
"I'm surpirsed I didn't see you come in."
"I've been watching for a while. You were just concentrated," a ghost of a smile touched her lips.
"It's good to see you, Natasha," Clint smiled, collapsing his bow as he walked towards the locker room Tony had installed.
"I would say the same..but you stink," she said this dully, which worried him. Normally she was full of life and jumped at any chance to get under his skin. Something was off.
"Which is why I need a shower," he replied, digging around in his bag for a change of clothes. Natasha waited outside until he was in the shower, then let herself in to lean against the wall.
"So I hear things have been pretty quiet around here lately."
"Yeah, they have been. Too much time on my hands. And what about you? What have you been up too?" He asked, relaxing as the cool water his his shoulders.
"Just...stuff," she said hesitantly.
"Stuff?"
"Yeah," she swallowed hard. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Ok then. So again, what brings you here?"
"I just...needed to see something," she said quietly, starring at her feet.
"Ok then?" He raised an eyebrow, wrapping a towel around his waist before stepping out of the shower. She looked his body over with an appreciative glance before turning around so he could change. Clint quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a whit button down, running a towel through his short hair. "I'm decent now."
"That's nice."
"Ok, what in the hell is the matter? You aren't acting like you."
"Nothing, Clint. Just nothing."
"Yeah, I believe that. Tell you what, let me take you to dinner, and we can talk."
"I don't think that is how you ask people out," she hid a smile.
"So? I never do things the proper way," he grinned before danging his keys in the air. "Let's go, you'll love it."
"Fine, but don't except me to tell you anything."
"Oh, I'll find out. Trust me."
That made Natasha sigh as she followed him. Little did he know that he was forcing her to relieve painful memories. Memories that she wanted to forget forever. But for now, all she could do was hide behind smart remarks and fake smiles. Because she just couldn't bring herself to tell him that she had almost gotten him killed, again. She just couldn't do it. Maybe because love was a strange thing, strange things cause people to act, well, strange.
With a sigh she climbed into his car, leaning her head against the headrest. For now they were both safe, but for how long? How long would it be before someone else figured out her weakness? She didn't want to think about that. So instead she forced herself to talk to him, to pretend everything was ok, no matter how much it hurt on the inside.
. . . . . . .
Clint studied Natasha curiously, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. She had done very little talking, and had barely teased him. He was used to her cocky attitude and sly remarks. Today she just seemed...defeated. She kept picking at her pasta, even though it was one of her favorite dishes. He finally sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"I can't figure it out."
"Hm?" She looked up at him.
"I can't figure out what's wrong with you," he sighed. "So why don't you tell me? I hate seeing you like this."
And he really did. They were friends and he cared for her, even if they did get on each others nerves sometimes. He didn't want to see her upset, and he didn't like the new attitude.
"It doesn't matter Clint."
"Please tell me?" His blue eyes pleaded with her as he held her gaze. "What is bugging you?"
She sighed, running a hand through her hair before nodding, a silent agreement passing between them. "Just...not here, ok?"
"Alright. Bill, please," he called to their waiter, pulling out his wallet.
He paid for their dinner before driving them out of town, towards the lake. He parked the car on an abandoned side rode, crawling out. Natasha gave him a skeptical look, but he continued to lead her through the woods. They finally broke through the trees and found themselves on a large cliff that jutted out over the lake. The view was spectacular- Clint would come here to think and keep and eye on the surrounding area.
"Wow," she said in awe, watching the setting sun turn the water into a fiery mirror.
"Yeah," he sat down near the edge, stretching his legs out in front of him. Natasha sat beside him, close enough that she could grab him for support if need be. But she wouldn't do that, she had to stay strong. She was the Black Widow, and the Black Widow didn't let her emotions control her.
Clint sat in silence for a period of time before laying a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her head towards him. "What happened?"
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she began to recall her tale:
Rain pounded down on her back as she stood in the alley, waiting for her pickup. She was already slightly annoyed- he was over an hour late. Her latest mission had been an easy one. A man wanted information on an ex-lovers husband, who was involved with the mafia. The woman had sung like a canary- she hadn't even gotten physical. All it took was her name and a rough statement. It was nice, having a smooth case like that. Maybe she would have time to swing by and see Clint.
With a huge sigh she flipped her phone open, dialing the pickups number. She frowned as a phone started ringing nearby, her senses instantly on edge. She spun around, ready to drop the person behind her, but a needle pierced her arm as she did so. With a groan she dropped to the ground, her head reeling. She tried to stay awake, but soon sunk into blackness.
"I woke up chained to a bed, half undressed. A man came in, threatened to rape me if I didn't talk. He wanted information on shield...Wanted to know why they weren't executing the monsters the world knows as the Avengers..."
"So, the Black Widow...caught up in her own web," the thick set man sneered, leering at her body. Natasha remained emotionless; there was no reason to think she wouldn't get out of this. She wasn't even afraid. She could take this guy easily.
"What do you want?" She rolled her eyes.
"Just some information on your fellow monsters."
"I do not know any monsters, just extraordinary men who want to help the world."
"Lies!" He slapped her across the face. "They are monsters! Their powers should be shared with the world! We should be allowed to be equals!"
"Not another libertarian," she groaned.
"You think you are funny girl?" He grabbed her face. "I will show you funny," he spat on her cheek. "I will show you much fun, later."
"I've heard that before," she remained cool.
"Want to know what kind of fun? I'll go bird hunting, that I will."
"W-what?" She hesitated in asking.
"Oh, yes, I know all about your special friend. That damned archer and his arrow. Blew my uncle to ashes, he did. I have been watching you, Ms. Natasha. I know your secrets. I see the way you look at his picture, how you debate over calling him. If you do not cooperate, he will be my target. I will cut his tongue from his head, then make him watch as I torture you in every way possible, and he will not be able to say a word. Then I will let you live to watch him die. I will cut him, little by little, until he bleeds out. And if you say anything, I will make his pain worse. Do not think you will win this fight. I am Calashen, I do not loose. I have killed more people in the mafia than you have in your entire life! I have silenced whole cities! Do not test me girl!"
Clint wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb, a frown etched into his face. "What happened? Where is the bastard? I'll kill him."
"He is already dead," she said softly, swallowing a sob down. "During his glory speech I was able to get loose. A bullet to his head ended that argument."
"Then why are you still upset? You won, you destroyed him. He didn't hurt you."
"No Clint, he won. He got inside my head, just like Loki. He found out what would hurt worst, and played that card. That's twice I've had the wind taken from me by simple words."
"What did Loki do to you? I thought you got the information you needed?"
"I did, Clint. I did. But he still won. Those tears, they weren't fake. He was going to use you, Clint. He was going to make you kill me. Then he would set you free long enough for you to realize what you had done. He would have killed you."
"I would never hurt you, you know that. Never."
"You wouldn't have had a choice! There is no way-"
Clint sighed, he had heard enough. Sometimes you just have to take control of the situation. Before she could continue on and get herself even more worked up, he leaned over and shut her up with a close, closing his mouth over hers. And first she just sat there, her eyes wide in shock. He kept waiting for the blow he was sure he would receive, but it never came.
He finally pulled away from her, confused. She hadn't rejected him, but she hadn't kissed him either. She continued to stare at him and he was unable to read her face.
"Natasha?"
She finally leaned towards him and he flinched, ready for what was coming. But instead her hand went behind his head, pulling him towards her. She kissed him them, wrapping both arms around his neck. He kissed her back, letting years of pent up emotions flow into that kiss. When they broke apart she was still crying, but she was smiling.
"That was unexpected," Clint chuckled.
"Good, then this will be unexpected too," she leaned over once more, her kisses softer and less urgent. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close to him. She closed her eyes with a content sigh, relaxing in his embrace. As his kisses became more heated, his pager went off, causing them to pull apart.
"Duty calls," she said, wiping her face.
"Duty can wait."
"No," she pulled him to his feet before stepping forward to hug him. "Duty can't wait. But I can," she looked up at him with a smile. "Thank you, Clint."
"For what?"
"Making me realize that sometimes you just need to talk."
"And making you realize I am a fantastic kisser?"
"Hmm...I haven't kissed a lot of cows, but you were the best so far."
"That's my girl," he grinned, giving her a squeeze. "Will you be ok?"
"Of course," she rolled her eyes. "Go on, the world needs a super hero today."
"Just remember, you can't hide from me," he smiled before turning away, grabbing his bow. Natasha watched him go, feeling more at ease.
The world needed its protectors. Hawkeye was the people's super hero, their idol. But Clint Barton was hers and hers alone, because no one would dare challenge a Black Widow.