Chapter 2: The Ambassador's Son

A year later, Clint arrived home from school, loosening the tie around his neck. He knew Thomas was going to put him into a prestigious school, but he was far from used to wearing uniforms. "How was it today, son?" Thomas asked as he exited his office.

"The usual," Clint replied.

"I still think I should get that IQ of yours tested, your professors are telling me you're excellent in the classes," Thomas told him.

"I'm already the adopted son of an Ambassador who has new hearing, do I really need more attention?" Clint asked as the butler, Alan, took his jacket.

Thomas chuckled lightly as the young man walked over to the closet in the den, removing the quiver and bow that were inside. "Daniel's outside waiting," he stated.

"Thanks," Clint answered before he went outside.

Clint walked over to his coach that was waiting patiently. "Alright, so are you ready for your last lesson before your trip?" Daniel asked.

"Yep," Clint replied as he looked at the target, "Could you move that back?"

"Further? You sure?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

His coach walked over and moved the target back further. "Keep going please!" Clint called out. The coach backed it up until the target was practically in the bushes then walked back.

"Are you going to be able to hit that?" he asked

Instead of answering, Clint held his bow up, smirking a little as he let the arrow go, bullseye. "That's incredible, we should start calling you Hawkeye," Daniel commented, patting the young man's shoulder. The coach patted his arm again before going back inside to talk to Thomas about the young man's skills.

That weekend, Clint was sitting on the jet heading towards France so Thomas could speak with the Ambassador there about businesses. He wanted Clint to come, since he insisted even if he was going to work in SHIELD that he was going to have to take care of this business when it was time. "Clint," Thomas called, forcing the teenager to look up, "You listening?"

"Sorry, now I am," Clint replied as he sat up straighter in his seat.

"I just need you to observe this, watch how business is handled, I know this is the part that you don't like, but it is important," Thomas explained.

"Yes, sir," he answered.

Clint tapped his fingers on the chair, letting out a deep breath. "Also, Bobbi Morse will be there with her father…" he started.

"Da—Tom no, no Bobbi Morse," He groaned as he leaned back in his seat.

"Is there something with Barbara?" Thomas asked.

"Just the fact she hangs on me like a monkey in school," Clint replied.

Thomas chuckled softly. "Blond haired, blue eyed girls not your type son?" He asked.

"Not really," Clint replied.

"Unfortunately, son, she wants to see you," Thomas told him.

The seventeen-year-old groaned, running his hands over his face. "It's jus for a couple of days, sit up in your seat, Clint, we're landing," the man added, patting his knee. Sitting up in his seat, Clint buckled up as they descended.

When they arrived at their hotel, they saw the Morse's waiting there. "Senator Morse, hello," Thomas greeted.

"Hi, Clint! Isn't this incredible?" Bobbi said with a huge smile.

"Um…yeah," he answered.

"We should explore Paris together, wouldn't that be exciting?" Bobbi asked, holding onto his hand with a bright smile.

"Maybe some other…" he started.

He heard Thomas clear his throat and let out a deep breath. "Sure…sounds like fun," He said through his teeth.

"Ooh! Yay, daddy, we'll be back later," Bobbi told her father.

Before Clint could react, she grabbed his arm and pulled him out the doors.

The "tour" through France was far from interesting for Clint. He had one earbud in his ear in the attempt to block some of Bobbi's jabbering in his other ear. "Isn't this fun," Bobbi asked.

"Sure," he replied.

"Come on, Clint, we're in Paris," She told him.

"I'm kind of tired, I just flew ten hours," he replied.

"Well, how about we go back to the hotel then?" she asked as she stood in front of him.

Her arm went around his waist, making his eyes grow wide. "Hey, hey, what are you doing?" he asked, backing up so he was very much out of her reach.

"Come on, Clint, I'm the Senator's daughter, you're the Ambassador's son, it wouldn't be that surprising if we were ever together," She commented.

"Yea it would be," he answered, "I need to get back, my dad's waiting."

Bobbi sighed and followed him back to the hotel.

When they arrived at the hotel, Clint walked over to the suite he was sharing with his dad. "I'll see you later handsome," Bobbi said smiling. She stood up on her tiptoes ad kissed his cheek before walking away.

Walking into his room, Clint wiped his face. "How was it, son?" Thomas asked.

"I'm going to go peel the skin off my face now," he replied as he went into the bathroom.

"Really can't stand the girl huh?" Thomas asked.

"No, yet you had me go spend an afternoon with her, that's three hours that'll never come back," Clint answered as he washed his face.

Thomas was chuckling lightly as the teenager came out, wiping his face with one of the towels. "She's a sweet girl, son," Thomas told him.

"She's as annoying as a mockingbird," he replied.

Thomas was still chuckling softly as Clint went into his part of the room to change. "Dinner's on it's way up," he called out.

"Good, because I think she was trying to get me to buy dinner too," Clint answered as he pulled on a new shirt, "Am I really going to have to spend the next three days with her?"

"Afraid so," Thomas told him.

Sighing, Clint sat down, looking at the file that was on his table. "What's this?" he asked.

"Notes for tomorrow, you thought I was kidding didn't you?" Thomas answered.

The teenager opened the file to see notes all about the meeting with the French Ambassador. "Can I just stand in the background, I see better from a distance," he insisted.

"I'll see what I can do," Thomas answered.

The next day, Clint was standing in a corner as he was watching the three adults discuss their business standings. He could see Bobbi sitting beside her father, glancing at him constantly. His eyes were searching around the room though, something was off. Something was really off in the room. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was different.

Suddenly, he realized the difference, the guards by the doors were different. This wouldn't be quite off, but the fact Clint had memorized the security shift schedule last night before he went to bed. The guards were supposed to be the same until they left the meeting. He saw on guard watching Thomas closely, almost too closely. Clint glanced over at the table as he idly made his way over to send out some sort of warning. "Monsieur Bartholomew," the guard called out, forcing them to look up.

"Shit," Clint muttered as he ran over to the table, grabbing the Ambassador by the arm when the guard held his gun up, "GUN!"

Clint shoved the man to the floor, protecting him as Senator Morse grabbed his daughter, pushing her to the floor. The teenager searched for any sort of protection when the gunman walked over. "Back away boy!" he barked in a heavy French accent. Clint's answer was a punch in the face. He jumped to his feet as the man went to aim his gun at him, kicking him in the stomach. The other gunman tried to hit Clint from behind, but he grabbed his arm, throwing him to the floor. He grabbed the gun from him, firing a single shot into his arms and then legs so he couldn't move.

Looking at the second gunman, he dove behind the table as he fired several shots at him. Getting back up, he fired a single shot into both hands and then his knees. The men were lying on the floor screaming in pain while the French Ambassador called for real security. Thomas got up from the floor, hurrying over to him. "Are you okay?" Thomas asked. Clint nodded his head, swallowing hard. Feeling nothing but relief and pride, Thomas pulled the young man into a tight embrace. "Don't you scare me like that again," he insisted. Clint slowly hugged him back.

"Try not to," he answered.

Thomas patted the young man's back. "Proud of you, son," He said smiling.

"Thanks dad," Clint answered.

The older man smiled even more, the first time this boy called him 'dad' ever, it was either 'Thomas' or 'Tom'. The French Ambassador started apologizing profusely and the three men started discussing about what had happened and that the Ambassador was not to blame. Clint looked over at Bobbi who was looking at him with even shinier eyes. Instead of acknowledging her, he allowed his father to lead him from the room to get to safety.