PREFACE
The first time Clint Barton met Charlotte Carter was an accident.
Three am is not the usual time for gym activity, even by the agents who played resident at the infamous S.H.E.I.L.D headquarters. However, Clint could not sleep. Nightmares of his life before SHEILD as well as his latest mission in Kabul left his body full of adrenaline, a pesky substance that left him even more jittery than normal. His bag over his shoulder he absentmindedly wrapped his hands in the familiar guards as he made his way towards the gym.
The silence was welcoming, void of the sounds of metal, gunfire, and his own footsteps. Clint Barton had been deaf for almost all of his life, and even though his hearing was better than perfect with the SHEILD specialized hearing aids, he sometimes still preferred the silence. That's why he didn't notice her when he walked in. Setting down his bottle of water and bag he slipped off his shoes.
That's when he felt them.
Repetitive vibrations.
Turning he searched for the source.
She was a blur of flushed skin and auburn hair. Her movements were filled with precision, rage, and frustration. Must have been a bad night for her as well. The petite woman must have been under five foot five inches, cheeks red with exertion and sweat beading on her arms. She wore black leggings, a familiar SHEILD academy grey shirt that seemed a whole lot older than she was. It must obviously a favorite, holes in the shirt and faded words told him it was worn often. The little red blur was incredibly fast.
Clint knew that look, she may have been safe in a gym of one of the most secure buildings in the world... but to her? She wasn't really there. Her eyes (a deep flashing steel he noticed) were far away, her punches intended for an invisible target only she could see.
All too familiar with that feeling he picked up the training pads abandoned on one of the benches he took his bottle under his arm and gave her a wide birth, lord knows the consequences of sneaking up on someone when they were out-zoned.
The little woman paused the flurry of her assault when she spotted him, He had to admit she was very pretty, her eyes were deep gunmetal grey and dangerously narrowed, at the edges he would have sworn she had been crying. She raised an eyebrow at him, he only motioned towards the mats before turning on his heel. He didn't bother looking to check where she was. He could feel those gunmetal eyes on his six and that was where she stayed.
They practiced for hours. Long past the sun coming up over the floor to ceiling windows of the gym, spreading the light and clearing the shadows like cobwebs. They didn't speak. They didn't need to, and if she spoke to him? It wasn't like he could hear her. They danced. An ebbing flow of punches, jabs, and kicks. Clint barely noticed the arrival of the other agents, many of them watching the two as they danced about the ring. He didn't notice when the Director himself came to watch as the woman sidestepped and jabbed him, or when he caught her arm and threw her down, only for her to bounce back up again. It wasn't until she stepped back and put a hand up that he stopped the rhythm, they were both breathing hard, he could feel his muscles ache and stretched to pop his back. Reaching in his bag Clint tossed a full water bottle to the girl, who caught it with ease. As she took a sip he noticed the collar of her shirt slip off her shoulder, a tattoo rested there, on the back of her right shoulder blade. A rose with airplane wings, three rings at its center in black and white on her tanned skin.
Exhausted Clint picked up his bag and nodded to her but she wasn't looking at him. Following her sharp eyes, it shocked him. Director Fury stared down the young girl with a questioning eye, usually, any new recruit as young as she was would have cowered under it, but she stood her ground.
Pushing the thought aside he was in desperate need of coffee and a shower. He was halfway down the hall and out the exit before he felt a hand lightly touch his shoulder.
Little red must have been running because she was breathing hard again, "hey sorry I didn't catch your name" she said, Clint could read her lips. Internally he could feel a pang of emotion through him. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being deaf, no that had passed a long time ago, it was the annoyance that other people thought it affected the job that pissed him off. Subconsciously he sighed "hold on a moment" as he reached in his bag for a price of paper only to have her stop him.
At that moment she surprised him.
For the first time all morning she gave him a smile, raising her hands she formed a familiar language he was able to read
"Oh! My bad, it's nice to meet you Mister, my name is Charlotte"
The woman signed, No, Charlotte signed. Clint smiled despite himself pushing his bag back on his shoulder so his hands were free, "My name is Clint, it's nice to meet you Charlotte".
The beaming grin on her face was worth it, so different from the woman he had seen in her own personal hell when he met her this morning. He could help himself, he wanted to see that smile again.
"Well I should be going..." she signed with a sigh and walking past him as he turned to watch her go "Thank you for this morning Clint" she signed over her shoulder with a wave, before disappearing down the hall.
"Well that was interesting," he thought to himself, before entering the locker room for a long-awaited shower.
—-
Now showered and shaved Clint made his way to the mess hall. If that's what you could call the huge cafeteria that had everything and a Starbucks in it. Picking up some much-needed coffee and some food he made his way to the table containing his strike team. The few people he was familiar with were scattered about the table, none of them seeming to be able to sit in a chair correctly. Anderson, Remington, Rumlow, Anna, and Daniel. All of them in various stages of eating, talking or irritating each other. Clint plopped down and snatched the salt to sprinkle it on his eggs and looked up to see what caught everyone's attention.
"So you met the new girl huh?" Remington asked almost bouncing on the edge of her seat, her eyes blown out wide. Clint raised an eyebrow with a mouthful of egg, glancing at Anna to translate the hyperactive brunette "she means we all saw you sparring with one of the new academy kids, Charlie? Harlow? Something ..." she stoic girl waved her spoon off rolling her eyes. Clint snorted a laugh, Harlow? "You mean Charlotte?" He corrected. This caught the attention of those around him. Anna snorted at Remington's excitable squeal "yeah! Have you heard the rumors? How did you meet?" Firing questions a mile a minute at a very confused Clint.
Rumlow rolled his eye with a snort taking a sip of his green colored smoothie "Let the man breathe Jesus!" he chuckled. Clint leaned back, balancing his chair on its back legs as he sighed. "Rough night, went to the gym" he shrugged "Looked like she needed a partner. I offered" he took another sip of his coffee, wincing as it had gone slightly colder than he liked while he was eating.
Anna huffed and let out a very unladylike snort in disappointment as her dreams of a whirlwind matchmaking office romances were dashed. Daniel let out a chuckle at the brunettes antics as he took off his old ratty ball cap and ran his hand over his buzz cut hair " Word on the street is she was called out of the Academy early on special request for a mission in Marrakesh, Operation Gemini, a suspected assassination of a nuclear physicist and other blah, blah, blah science stuff." This caught everyone's attention, Operation Gemini was a big win for SHEILD, although the CIA took most of the credit for the logistics and international relations involved. It was an absolute mess that was still being cleaned up in the higher-ups at this very moment. Putting his cap firmly back on his head Daniel leaned forward and the rest of them did too, eager to hear "So the guy was killed right? Extraction was a borderline complete failure and they had like a four-member team, all I heard this morning was that everything was thought to be completely lost of the guys intel, asset terminated... but" Daniel talked with his hands " Rumor has it the girl, Charlotte, she got back to debrief and basically recreated the notes right down to the handwriting, like a human scanner. The CIA doesn't even have the info man, its crazy!" Rumlow let out a low whistle.
Damn.
Clint was actually impressed at the fact she could remember everything in such perfect detail, the packet he heard about music have been 30 to 60 pages long. However, Operation Gemini and probably the slew of others the girl may or may not have been on were a damn good reason for her to be off like she was earlier that morning.
Buzzzzzzz Buzzzz Buzzzzzzz
The sound of the mission pager on his wrist interrupted the speculation, Rumlow checked it first and sighed " Suit up, eta an hour, third floor" a collective sigh ran through Strike team Delta as they stood. Back to work, Clint grumbled to himself.
