So quick authors note. I've written stories before, but never one like this. There are definitely some mature moments in it and if you're not into that stuff, it's probably best to find another fic. Also, this takes place right after The Avengers (2012) so I guess it is pretty AU. No Laura, no farm or kids, just Clint and my original character. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One

The bar was quiet. A part of Clint welcomed it he guessed, but another wished it was louder. Loud would drown out the sounds in his head. Loud would make the voice shut up. Loud might even distract him enough to get the images out of his head and give him a few seconds of clarity. He had clearly picked the wrong hole in the wall in the city for that though.

Behind the bartender there was a game quietly playing on the TV. He didn't care to make out who it was though. Behind him a group of people were at the pool table, another hung out in a pack at the end of the bar speaking quietly about something. He was left alone. No one knew who he was. He at least had that going for him.

He finished off the beer and asked for another. The bartender said nothing and quickly replaced the empty with a full one. That was when the TV cut the game off and switched to the news. Images of Chitauri aliens, Captain America and Tony Stark flashed across the screen. He sunk uncomfortably in the seat and closed his eyes. "Fuck" he muttered under his breath. The newscaster continued to speak, but Clint's thoughts were quickly going dark on him. His mind began to cloud and he felt himself being pulled under into that cruel, suffocating, hell again. His head pounded, his breath strangled and he felt his mind begin to give in…

"Jesus Brian, change that. It's Friday night for Christ's sake."

The voice came from next to him, and the few irritated words amazingly pulled him out of the deep. He looked to his right and saw his savior was an annoyed looking female with wavy auburn hair. She stared down the bartender with a scowl that would have impressed Nat with its ferocity.

"Just going to come in and take over like that?" the bartender, Brian, reached for the remote and flipped the channel.

"You'll thank me once you get your tips." She shot back and then to Clint's shock, she turned a quick glance to him and gave him a small smile. The small gesture meant so much, he didn't even dwell over the fact that someone had recognized him.

"Whatever. Do you want your usual?"

She turned back and smiled brightly at the guy. "Of course."

Brian the bartender, as Clint now thought of him, rolled his eyes and pulled out a Sam Adams, popping the top off before handing it to the girl. Clearly they knew one another, but Clint got more of a brother and sister vibe from them than he did a romantic one. "Are you here to help close?"

"If you need me to." She took a sip from the bottle. "But it doesn't really look like it."

"Not really. I could use a break though."

She took another drink. "Fifteen minutes."

Brian the Bartender nodded. "Thanks."

The girl took her bottle and walked around to the opening in the bar, while Brian the Bartender walked out through the back door. Clint got a full look at her now under the lights. She was on the small side, thin, but fit and her wavy hair just barely brushed against her toned shoulders. Her eyes were a dark blue, her face heart shaped and her mouth was generous and he already knew her smile was a sweet one. She wore a blue tank top and jeans, informal, but she managed to make it look gorgeous.

When she turned however, giving Clint a good glimpse of profile he found that the jeans weren't just informal, they were fucking perfection. They clung to her long legs in all the right places, including a perfectly round ass that he suddenly ached to get his hands on. Taking a quick drink from his bottle, he shoved the thought away. It was a nice deviation, but sex was the last thing he should be thinking about right now, especially when the girl had just gone out of her way to help him. He continued to watch in silence as she took over behind the bar, finishing off her own beer and wiping down the counter after the customers at the end of it finished off their drinks. She said nothing to him, didn't even look at him, but he sensed it was more for his benefit than for hers.

It was time for him to leave anyway. He took a final sip from his bottle and set it on the bar. Standing, he dug into his back pocket for his wallet, but she was suddenly in front of him, reaching for the empty bottle and shook her head. "Don't worry about it."

"You sure?"

"I would have said it if I weren't." she smiled. "It's fine. Go on."

"Thanks." He turned and was intent on leaving, but something pulled him back. Maybe those four beers were giving him a shot of bravery or stupidity, but he turned back and looked at the girl once more, "And um…thanks for earlier too."

She looked up, not at all shocked by the gratitude. "No problem. My idiot cousin should know better than to put the news on in a bar anyway."

He stepped forward. "The bartender is your cousin?" Yeah, that made sense.

She chuckled. "Yeah, our family owns this place."

Clint glanced at the sign above the bar, needing a reminder of where he was. "Sutton's."

"Erin Sutton." She confirmed to him, holding out a hand over the taps.

Clint took it. "Clint Barton." Forgetting his original idea of leaving, Clint sat back down. "I take it you're not a full time employee here?"

She laughed and leaned against the bar. "Nope. Not since college anyway. I come in on my days off or whenever I need a free drink."

"Or whenever you want to give free drinks to random customers?"

"I wouldn't exactly call you random."

He sighed, knowing he had walked right into that. "I didn't plan on being recognized."

She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms, the soft, kind expression still remaining. "Don't worry, I'm pretty good at keeping secrets."

Fuck, she was a sweetheart.

"Thanks." He didn't want to be noticed, that much was true, but for whatever reason he didn't mind that this girl knew who he was. The fact that she only knew him from whatever pictures had made it on to the internet didn't seem to matter. Her eyes zeroed in on him as they spoke, attentive and warm. She actually gave a damn and seemed fully present in the small talk they were exchanging.

Brian came back in long after his fifteen minutes had been up, but Erin let it slide. Unfortunately, though, it ended their own conversation. Brian playfully shoved Erin out of the way as he washed his hands at the sink. Noticing that the group at the end of the bar had left he asked about his tips. "Great." Erin told him, patting the front pocket of her tight jeans and made no move to produce the bills for him. He cursed under his breath and to Clint's shock, Erin caught his eye and winked at him.

"Looks like drinks are on me tonight. What do you say Clint?"

Recharged at the opportunity to stay around, Clint smiled. It was the first genuine smile he had given anyone in a while.

New York had changed. Not in the obvious ways you would expect after aliens fell from the sky and tore through the city, though that had happened too. People had become fearful and weak. They began to distress what could come next and that they could never be prepared for it, even with Captain America and Tony Stark on their side. And they had begun to flee. It had been a month now since it all started and still, apartments were packed up, cars and vans loaded down with belongings, their owners going in whatever direction away from the city that felt the safest.

Erin thought that was laughable.

When it came down to it, there probably wasn't a corner in the world where anyone would be safe, why give in to the hysteria when there was nothing that could come of it? She had grown up there. Her very first breath had been taken at St. Mary's and for most of her life she had never lived more than an hour away from there. She had seen a lot since then. Great things, good things and terrible terrible tragedies, but nothing could ever her push her to leave.

The empty trains, the bare streets, the fear in the faces that had stayed; she tried to look passed all of it. They had come back from September 11th, they could come back from this. Fear was what the enemy had wanted, it was how they controlled you whether they were human or alien. It was a thought she had repeated to herself many times over the years and it wasn't one she was going to abandon if she could help it.

She kept up with life as best as she could. Her job at New York Methodist helped. The hours were long and the work was consuming and when she wasn't there, her family's bar was available for distraction. Her Grandpa Jim had opened doors for the first time in 1955 and the business had always been successful. In the seventies he had bought the space above the bar and converted the three floors into apartments, adding to the revenue. When he retired after forty years her Uncle Frank had taken things over, her own father content to be a firefighter at the station two blocks down. Erin began waiting tables and then tending bar after graduating from high school and continued through college. The customers were usually familiar faces and she thought of most like family. When her parents had decided to move upstate, Erin stayed and moved into the top floor apartment. Frank's son Brian, her cousin and really more like a younger brother than anything else, lived on the floor below her and was poised to take things over when his own father retired. Erin was fine with the unspoken arrangement. Brian was good at handling business and people. He was young, twenty-seven, but she saw potential. And apparently Uncle Frank had too. He had left Brian in charge of things when he and Aunt Pat had joined the mass exodus from New York and headed for Colorado. Aunt Pat's anxiety and fear had gotten the best of her too.

Erin had promised to help Brian out if he need came up and so after working a thirteen hour shift at the hospital, she came home, showered, put on a bit of make-up and dressed, going back down the stairs and through the back door that gave easy access to the bar from the apartments. She had assumed that since it Friday the place would be packed.

She was wrong.

The place was virtually empty. She counted ten people in her quick scan of the low ceiling, wood paneled room. She though Sutton's would continue on as it always had despite what had been going on outside. It always had before.

Jesus. Thank God Grandpa isn't here to see this.

She swallowed back the pain the blow had dealt her and tried to focus on something, anything, to push through it. She let the door she had come through shut behind her, and moved through the billiards area into the bar. Brian was behind the counter, keeping himself busy, a few people seated around him and the TV on behind him. Clearly he wasn't going to need her help tonight. She could probably go back upstairs and sleep if she wanted to. Somehow that idea didn't really appeal to her though. She moved forward and had come within a foot of the bar when she happened to look to her left and see the hunched over figure seated away from the small group at the other end. A pang of familiarity struck her and she watched as his eyes cut quickly to the TV screen and then go dark, as if a storm was passing over the blue pools. She followed his gaze towards the TV and saw the sloppy camera footage from a cell phone providing the images of aliens racing through the streets and then two figures in black, fighting on behalf of humanity. Both were blurred, but it didn't take Erin more than a moment to identify one; the archer and then place him in that spot at the bar.

She took a quick breath as the pieces came together, knowing now what had caused the clouds to surround him and push him down.

"Jesus Brian, change that. It's Friday night for Christ's sake."

Watching Clint miss the last shot was unbelievably hilarious. Erin burst into laughter watching him stagger back from the table. He had to have been drunker than she was, but he was straight faced as he glared at her. "Think that's funny?"

She laughed harder and nodded. "I expected your accuracy skills to be a bit more on point." She alluded to the archery thing quietly, hoping it didn't bother him.

To her quick relief he smiled at her, definitely more comfortable and open than he had been an hour or so before. "Show me up then, Ace."

"Fine, I will." She laughed.

"Do it then."

Laughing again, her cheeks flushing, she mocked him. "Fine."

Stick in hand, she walked up to the table, positioned herself and let the stick go. Even buzzed she made the shot perfectly. "Oh!" she turned back to him, triumphant.

He was leaning against his chair, shooting a glare at the traitorous balls on the table. "Has to be the beer."

"Nope, just pure talent." She smiled at him and walked around for her next shot. "Don't get too jealous. I can also own your ass at putt-putt."

He cracked a grin. Erin found herself going slightly weak in the knees every time he did that. This whole thing had started because she legitimately felt that he shouldn't be left alone tonight, but the longer she hung out with him, the more fun she had …and the more the atmosphere seemed to heat between them. Taking a deep breath, she bent over the table again and let her shot fly. The result was no where near as good as the previous and when she stood back up she mentally prepared herself to be laughed at. Then she realized he was standing beside her. The air around them suddenly lost the drunken humor as his eyes locked onto hers, his expression sad and sober.

"You don't have to do this." He made the statement in a raw, low voice even though there was no one else around to hear. It came out of left field and struck Erin directly in the heart. The memories of the pain she had felt once herself… undeserving, worthless…were all on display in his bright blue eyes.

With an unsteady hand, Erin allowed herself to reach out toward him, touching arm in a show of affection. It was an added bonus that a shock of fire quickly followed the innocent move. She forced her gaze up and steadied her breath, "Yes, I do."

His breath seemed to hitch at her words and the air between them cracked and burned.

Erin allowed her hand to linger on his arm. The skin beneath her soft touch was hard and muscular. Her pulse began to quicken. She was suddenly dizzy and it had nothing to do with the tequila shots. She gripped his arm tighter, thickening the atmosphere between them, the desire practically spilling over. Trying to get her bearings, she watched Clint's gaze pull back and heard the quick in take of breath as he cursed and then dove towards her.

Clint hadn't been entirely sure she was in to him until that moment. They had laughed and drank for most of the last few hours and yet the flirting had been kept to a minimum. It hadn't stopped him from admiring that perfect ass of hers every time she bent over the pool table though or feeling like he on top of the world whenever she would flash that smile at him. He had no doubt she had taken pity on him, but rather than it pissing him off, it made him want to push her up on the pool table and devour every inch of her.

He knew he was drunk as his lips moved over hers, though whether it was alcohol or her was another thing entirely. Despite it though, his mind was clear and damn she tasted so good. He swept a tongue between their lips as her arms came around his neck, pulling them closer together. She tasted amazing smelled amazing, hell she felt amazing. He let himself be consumed by it. Too weak to let go of the opportunity of forgetting everything, of feeling normal. His hands came around her waist, traced along the edge of her tight jeans, aching to cup around the perfect ass he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off all night…

"…Where they at where they at… if you wanna go and take a ride with me…"

Clint pulled back.

"We three-wheelin in the fo' with the gold D's…"

Typically music didn't play in his head when he kissed a woman. Though he liked to think if it did he'd come up with something a bit better than Nelly. . The thought was quickly followed by more music and a random voice singing along

"Oh why do I live this way…Hey must be the money!"

He took a quick look around him, hearing the voice continue to rap along with Nelly, but it was the sense that there were fewer people around him than there were the last time he had given the thought attention was what stuck out to him.

"Brian. It's closing time." Erin caught his ear, solving the question for him. "We blast the music while we clean up."

"Nelly?"

"Not always." She chuckled. "I'm partial to the 90s alternative myself. Some Alannis, Gin Blossoms..."

"Chili Peppers."

She smiled. "You've got the idea." As she spoke he found her hand coming up and brush against the back of his neck, fingers running through his hair. He read the signs as clearly if they had been spelled out before him, and went back in for another kiss. He didn't take it slow this time. His mouth came down hard on hers, his lips practically forced hers apart. He sucked on her bottom lip, hands back at her waist, then without another thought, on her ass. She moaned, sending a vibration through his body, and backed herself against the pool table, pulling him along and forcing their bodies closer together.

Her ass definitely felt as great as it looked, firm and round and the tighter he held on, the more she began to move against him. He was straining, painfully, against his jeans as she upped the friction, knowing exactly how to move her hips.

Shit…shit…he didn't come here for this…

He didn't know how much she had had to drink, but apparently, it was enough to give her a good dose of bravery. She didn't seem to care that her cousin was one open wall away from them. The song from the other side of the bar changed. Sabatoge by the Beastie Boys, better than Nelly. Clint broke from her lips and went to her neck, tracing the slope with his tongue and down to her sweet collarbone and then down as far as her tank top would allow. She gripped his neck, moaning against the licks. Shit he wanted more. His finger hooked into the blue strap of the shirt and he began to pull it down, revealing a white lacy bra beneath the fabric.

"Wait." She gasped, her hand coming over his to stop him.

Clint's heart slammed hard against his chest at the words and he pulled back. He tried to catch his breath as he waited for her to shut it all down.

"I live upstairs." She then said, licking her swollen lips.

"What?"

She slid off the table and rose up on toes to give him a slight peck on his own lips before taking his hand and leading him towards a door on the back wall. He grabbed his jacket on the way.

He didn't pay much attention to anything else except her as they walked up two more flights of stairs. The apartment she finally pulled him into was dark, but he had her back in his arms as soon as the door had clicked shut behind them, throwing his jacket down on the floor all in one fast moment.

His lips pressed against hers, tongues swirled together. Letting something else take over, he moved, pinning Erin against the wall opposite the door, grabbing her ass through her jeans and then slipping his hands up under her shirt, feeling the soft naked skin of her back. Warm and soft, he couldn't resist moving to her waist and her stomach before moving them upwards and pulling the damn shirt off all together.

Her bra was definitely white lace and it fit and presented her breasts so damn perfectly he could barely form a coherent thought looking at her. His hands aching to touch her, he came back at her, pushing her even more tightly against the wall and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he braced himself with one hand against the wall and the other slipping aside the bra and cupping the firm softness under it. Erin moaned under his touch, wordlessly begging for more. She was totally spread to him, her hips moving in small circles on him. Clint wanted to rip away the remaining barriers between them and have the freedom to kiss her entire body. He needed her in the bed. Now.

His lips brushed against her neck and to her ear, "Bedroom?"

She pointed to a door before cupping his face in her hands and kissing him hard on the lips. He didn't break the kiss as he moved away from the wall. He held her tightly and went towards the door, nudging it with his foot to open it. The bedroom was dark too, only the lights of the city from an open window in the corner made the room visible enough for him to navigate himself towards the bed. He set her down on it and she pulled him down with her as laid back, inviting his hands to explore her body now with more freedom. He undid the front clasp of her bra, and ran his tongue and teeth in gentle, seductive movements over her bare tits. Soft sweet moans escaped her lips and she arched up against him, begging for more.

Her hands ran through his hair and down his shoulders and arms, gripping the hard muscular skin beneath. The touches heated his body. With his mouth on one nipple, she suddenly grabbed his hand and placed it between her thighs. Clint quickly took the hint, rubbing her core, making her gasp and moan into the darkness. His erection was straining against his own jeans now and hearing the sounds she made and watching her writhe under his touch was just making it worse.

Impatient now, he brought his lips back up, brushing them against her neck once more and began to undo the belt at her waist. Her hands came down to help him and they soon had the pants undone and she was lifting her hips off the bed to take them off. Long, toned legs appeared barely visible in the darkness. Before he had a chance to touch her however, her own hands were coming towards him, undoing his own jeans and inviting him to stand and take them off. In a flash he had everything off and was back down on top her, pressing her into the mattress with his weight. His erection pressed hard against her stomach and she reached for him, running her hands down the length of it and nearly sending him over the edge.

He had a whole plan of ripping her blue panties off with his teeth and tasting the sweetness he was sure was between her thighs, but between the alcohol and the sex drought he had been in for the last few months, he knew he wouldn't make it that far. The night was young, right? They could fit that in later. He mumbled for a condom between kisses and teasing fingers on her nipples and let her break away for a moment to reach for her nightstand and pull one out of the drawer. He watched as she tore it open herself and then pushed him onto his back. He had to grit his teeth as she took him in her hands and gently rolled it down over him.

"Do that a lot?" he asked, desperate for a break in the tension before he lost it in front of her.

She laughed softly, her gorgeous eyes twinkling mischievously in the dark before she leaned down and kissed him. Still holding him down with some invisible force, she then straddled him, sat up and positioned herself over him. Her movements came so fluidly, feeling her come around him, tight and hot, was almost surprising.

"God, Erin!"

Feeling him fill her, her lips moved in silent pleasure. She rolled against him and Clint quickly found the rhythm, thrusting back up into her. His hands found her hips and he gripped them tightly as she began to move faster. Hot and slick, she moved over him easily and clenched around him with every forward motion. His mind was overwhelmed and everything from the last month was pushed out. It was only Erin then, Erin and this moment.

Her breaths began to come faster and she gripped his arms as her movements began to change, the pace becoming faster. Her eyes closed and he knew she was close. He could feel her tighten around him and in a sudden move, possessed by the need to feel her come underneath him, he pulled her down and rolled her over. Pumping inside of her with deep hard thrusts, his hand moved between them and he quickly found what he was looking for. Rubbing her with a soft thumb, he watched as she tossed her head back, moaning into all corners of the dark bedroom as the orgasm hit her. It crashed into her like a strong wave and she gripped the bed sheets, her entire body beginning to shake under him.

The vibrations and the way she tightened like a vice around him were too much for Clint to bear and it was only seconds after she came back down that his thrusts became deeper and faster and he exploded inside of her. She still managed to meet his thrusts, holding tightly to him as he lost himself in her, moaning and sighing her pleasure and satisfaction.

He felt something almost like regret when he pulled out of her, but quickly brushed it aside. He got rid of the condom, his head swimming in post sex euphoria and beer and he found himself laying down on the bed beside her. She seemed lost in her own mind, her eyes half shut, but she still had enough energy to turn towards him and silently invite him to put his arm around her. He did so without thinking, his breaths still erratic and his heart banging inside of his chest. His mind was still void of all the bullshit. No aliens, no Loki, no Nat looking at him in disappointment, no one at SHIELD turning away from him in disgust and fear. Maybe tonight he would actually sleep. It had been awhile since he done that…