A/N: Hey! So this chapter is a lot longer than the first and I plan for most of them to be around this length. Anyway, I hope you are enjoying so far and reviews are always appreciated. :)

. . .

Clint Barton was one of the very best agents that SHIELD had to offer. Therefore, he was more often than not sent out on the more dangerous of missions, the more sensitive missions. Because Fury trusted him. As much as Fury trusted any of his agents really, which wasn't much but enough. Fury trusted him to get out alive. To complete the mission, return to base and be ready for the next life threatening job he'd be sent out on.

Before, - and the director would never admit to this – Fury would have a moment of worry. He'd worry that this mission was too much. He'd worry that Barton or one of the other team members had messed up and they'd been killed. He'd worry that he'd condemned them all to their deaths – no matter how skilled or experienced the team was – by not providing an extraction.

But now, well now he had Mariana Hadley to rely on. Now he had a full-proof extraction plan at the ready and with Clint Barton going on most of SHIELD's missions that didn't provide an extraction team, he and Mariana had met a number of times. Though with the mask she always wore he had no idea of her true identity.

. . .

Plan E was a go.

Mariana always tried to plan ahead. Well, actually she just kind of went with it in the moment and later claimed it was the plan all along. She was now on plan E because the rest had all fallen through. This was supposed to be as simple as all the other extractions Fury sent her on. Get in, grab 'em, get out. Simple. That was plan A.

But they hadn't been at the camp site they had set up and Mariana could tell the fire had been doused in a hurry, recently. The first light of the day was just now beginning to appear over the horizon. Plan B had been to wait around for them to return but upon further analysis of the site the consultant concluded that they would not be returning as it was very unlikely they would have left the place un-guarded in the first place. That and there were five sets of foot prints going in five different directions. Five agents, five directions, no covered tracks.

Yeah, something definitely happened here.

So Plan C was to randomly teleport along the five trails individually. That led to four corpses and a dead-end. Four agents were dead with some form of electrical burns to the heart and the fifth agent had obviously begun to cover their tracks eventually because the trail just stopped. No signs of a struggle, no doubling back. It just stopped.

So that had to be Barton. Mariana knew he was supposed to be on this mission and she knew there were only five agents sent. He had not been any of the corpses she'd found so this was him.

She completely skipped plan D because she was immature and it almost made her giggle. Unprofessional.

So she was onto plan E. Higher ground. There was a cliff edge about a hundred yards from her position that seemed to look over a good portion of the forest she was in. So Mariana teleported up and crouched close to the ground as she shuffled closer to the edge, not wanting to be spotted from below.

The forest was really just made up of a bunch of clumps of trees with random clearings between. It took a few minutes but finally she spotted the archer – facing off against three armed men – not far to the North from her position.

But it was just Mariana's luck that she would teleport between them all just as one raised their high-tech, electrical powered gun and fired, aiming for Barton's heart.

Barton watched the young woman go down and heard her scream in pain which prompted him to lunge forward on his injured left leg to try to help. The three gunmen seemed quite interested in the girl - more likely in her powers - however and while he was distracted by his own pain and her unconscious state, Barton was hit over the head and the two were dragged off.

When Barton next woke up he was chained to the ceiling with his hands above his head. His leg hurt like hell but he'd long ago learnt to block that kind of thing out in this kind of situation, besides, it wasn't broken. He couldn't tell if the young woman – chained up the same way across from him with her feet barely scraping the concrete floor - was awake or not but that question was soon answered.

"We're in some kind of cellar I think." Her voice was hoarse and she seemed to gasp every few words, her injury obviously causing her a great deal of bother in her current position. He could see the burn mark on her uniform on her right side and could even see the mark of her skin beneath where some of the material had burned away.

"Awesome. Hey, they left your mask on." The mask she wore covered most of her face, somewhat like a ski-mask except instead of eye holes there were lenses similar to those from his own glasses, wherever they had ended up now. Other than that only her lips were visible. They were currently chapped and twitching up into a pathetic smile. Like the rest of her suit the mask was mostly black.

There was some sort of strangled gasp he could only guess was an attempt at laughter that was quickly abandoned, punctured by a hiss of pain and some very deep breathing. "I'm sorry."

Clint cocked his head to the side slightly, waiting for an explanation because as far as he was concerned she hadn't been around to screw up the mission so this was not her fault.

"I was sent to get you guys out. I was too late this time and now the others are dead and we've both been injured and captured. And I can't get us out. Whatever that blast was, it's doing something to my powers and I can't use them. We're stuck here and I'm sorry." She didn't mention the fact that she tricked a tech-guy at SHIELD into removing the tracking anklet yesterday too.

"Damn, you sound like you're in pain. You shouldn't talk if your injury is causing you that much trouble. And don't worry about this. I can get us out of here. Trust me." The archer hadn't known the other agents that had been with him were dead, was kind of counting on them being alive really.

"Isn't that what I usually say when I come to get you?"

"Didn't I tell you not to talk?"

"You just prefer the sound of your own voice, Barton."

"Never claimed otherwise, 'Masked Saviour'."

"Cute."

"I try."

Her breathing every time she shifted was worrying the agent and he watched her closely for a few seconds before asking, "Hey, are you hurt anywhere besides your side?"

Her shoulders twitched in what he could only assume was a shrug. "Ribs. I woke up while they were transporting us back here," she said by way of explanation, no other words given or needed.

"Son of a -"

Just then there were approaching footsteps and the door was unlocked with a loud 'clang'. A man that Barton recognised as being the boss of the gun-running operation they were gathering intel on – Derek Bruster – entered. He grinned almost maliciously at his two prisoners and it did nothing to settle Barton's stomach. "Ah, you are awake!" The man seemed to ignore Clint's presence entirely and focussed on the woman across from him. Barton protested to this. Loudly. But was ultimately ignored.

"I hear, you have some quite impressive abilities Miss..?" She said nothing. "Do you not wish to speak? Curse at me like your dear companion?" She said nothing. Clint continued to struggle with his bindings. "Let's remove this pesky mask shall we? This feels rather like a barrier in our conversation."

Clint had to admit, he was indeed interested to find out what she looked like under the mask, who exactly it was that had been making a habit out of saving his stupid ass more times than Nat. But he understood Fury made her wear it for a reason. However, he could do nothing to stop Derek as he pulled the mask off the struggling woman – no, girl.

And suddenly Clint Barton couldn't move because this was only a teenager before him. It was only a teenager who had saved his own and many other SHIELD agents' lives numerous times over the last three months alone. It was only a teenager who'd taken a potentially fatal shot that had been meant for him. Only a teenager staring defiantly at their captor as he stripped her of her only line of defence.

But then Derek was laughing, and Clint felt the anger start simmering in his stomach like water because he could take anything they threw at him but holy shit what would they do to this poor girl? And, fuck, would he be having words with Fury when they got out. Because they were getting out. Clint knew that much.

"Oh my, aren't you a pretty little thing? A little young to be involved in such crude activities as you are I believe. Hm? Oh this is brilliant." Bruster was a little too close to the girl for Clint's comfort and she appeared to share the sentiment as she pushed herself backwards until only the very tips of her shoes were on the floor and the archer could see the strain it was putting on her arms.

"Leave her alone asshole." Clint wanted to kick out at the man but there was too much distance between them that he knew it would be about as useful as a piece of straw in a bar fight. Although Barton could probably make that work but he didn't have time to think up another euphemism.

"Hush now. I'm talking to the little lady not you." Clint watched as the girl's jaw ticked at the term and almost smiled because he could tell she was pissed and maybe her age was just a sensitive spot or maybe she had a shorter fuse than he did. "How does someone like you get involved with something like SHIELD anyway? Are they forcing you? Do they pay you? Because I can assure you, I could pay you more."

Something in the girl's face relaxed and Clint faltered for a brief second. She wasn't going to turn on SHIELD was she? For money? After everything she'd done for them all? Derek must have caught the change too as he grinned wider. "We could give you a place to stay. You could be one of us, part of the family. You'd have a place here."

"You treat all of your family like prisoners?" The girl's eyes seemed to be watering and her voice took on a vulnerable note as she looked up pointedly towards the chains. Derek looked ready to unlock the chains, hand reaching to the keys on his belt. It was a small change, took just a millisecond but he caught it. Her eyes hardened for a fraction of a second and he knew he was being played.

"You little bitch. You think you could trick me?"

"It was worth a shot." Barton felt bad. For a moment he felt really bad for doubting her loyalty, for doubting her at all because for anyone as young as her to have lasted this long in her position they would have to be strong as hell and even more determined.

Then Derek slapped her hard across the face and the anger was simmering again, close to boiling at that point. "Do not disrespect me."

"Maybe you shouldn't make it so easy then mate."

With that comment from the girl Derek turned on his heel and left with a menacing "You're going to regret this." Meanwhile, Clint, feeling oddly protective, decided he would do whatever he had to do to protect this girl, to get her out and to get her home. Yet he suspected home may well have been a foreign term to the girl before him. How else did she end up with SHIELD?

"So," Clint began, "What's your name then kid?"

"I'm almost seventeen," she practically growled and Clint felt no more at ease, having been guessing 18 at the very least. "My name is Mariana," she said with a sigh.

"Well, Mariana," Clint looked around as much as he could to ensure there were no cameras before continuing, "we are going to get out of here because I have a plan."

She snorted. "So did I."

. . .

"Hold up, what exactly is your plan again?"

"We wait."

"One more time."

"We wait."

"That's what I thought you said. Now my plan was crap, I'll admit that because it failed, miserably, but your plan, your plan is just plain stupid."

"It's really not."

"Idiotic, dump, suicidal, moronic-"

"They all mean practically the same thing Mariana."

"I'm aware. Are you aware that this 'plan', if you can even call it that, will get us killed?"

"No, it won't."

"Oh it will."

"It won't, you just have to trust me." Mariana wanted so badly to protest that yes, this plan would indeed get them killed. But Clint was staring at her earnestly and she wasn't used to that because every other time they'd seen each other there had been playful banter and a mocking edge to every word he said to her, every look he gave her.

But right then, in that very moment, Mariana Hadley saw a side of Clint Barton she had assumed she would never be lucky - or unlucky - enough to witness. The serious side. The tight-lipped, sharp-eyed, completely serious, no-nonsense side of one of SHIELD's best agents that told her he knew what he was doing, that he was 100% sure he could get them out.

She was about to give in. She was about to cave and tell him that she did trust him, that she would do as he said and follow his plan, that she would do something completely unlike her and do as he said. But then she felt a tingling in her toes that was unmistakeable, a tingling sensation she had sorely missed for the past hour. It was small and she knew she wouldn't be able to teleport more than ten feet in that moment but it would get stronger.

And then she could go farther.

"I trust you, Barton. But there have been new developments and we are going to need to tweak that plan of yours just a little." She grinned at his surprised expression. "My powers are coming back, it isn't much right now but I'd guess in half an hour I'll be strong enough to get us to SHIELD HQ and in an hour I'll be good as new."

Slowly, Clint began to smile, just a little one, but he nodded in agreement and they began to plan an escape/take-down, because Clint Barton had never left a mission incomplete and was not about to stop now.

"We're going to need a distraction."

. . .

"Kid? Hey kid! Hey, someone better get in here; she can't breathe!"

The two guards posted outside the cellar door started at their male prisoner's shouting, punctuated by the loud and pained gasps from the other prisoner, and were quick to begin opening the heavy steel door. Usually they would ignore any of their prisoners when they shouted out because usually it was some kind of demands or pleadings to be released.

But the boss had taken a liking to the girl they were holding and had been adamant that she be hurt no further than she already was. So when the door was finally open they let it swing shut but didn't lock it as they rushed to check on the slumped figure of the girl hanging from the ceiling of the cellar.

The other prisoner, the agent, was shouting all kinds of obscenities at them as they moved across the room. "I swear to God if she isn't breathing right now I will kill all of you! She was complaining about her ribs earlier so if she has a punctured lung right now there will be no safe place for you lot to hide you bastards!"

Both guards ignored him in favour of checking on the girl. One began checking for a pulse. What happened next was like a quick-time event from a video game. As the guard's hand reached toward the girl's neck the other guard noticed something they'd both failed to upon entering the room and approaching the prisoner.

She wasn't actually chained up.

Before he could get a word of warning out though Mariana had opened her eyes, planted her feet firmly on the ground, let go of the chains and punched the guard in front of her in the face. He stumbled and she grabbed a handful of his hair and shoved him in the direction of the wall to her left. There was a loud 'smack' as his head apparently hit the wall.

The second guard had turned in this time and started for the door. Probably planning to alert his friends to the development. Mariana grabbed the end of the chains that had earlier held her up and wrapped them around his neck. She struggled with him for a few moments before he went slack with the tell-tale signs of unconsciousness.

She dropped him and the chain to the ground before stumbling back and almost falling down herself. With her hands to her mouth she looked between the two downed guards in shock because fuck she had done that and sure, SHIELD had trained her to fight, but she never thought she would ever actually have to.

"Mariana," Clint said calmly but sharply. She snapped her head up to look at him where he was still chained to the ceiling. "I know, believe me I know, but you need to get the keys. Okay? Get the keys."

She knew what he was doing, he was distracting her, giving her a task to do, a mission to complete so she didn't fall apart right there and she was so god-damn thankful for that. She checked both the unconscious guards - and yes, she'd checked and the first one was indeed still breathing - and found a small set of keys which she used to release the archer.

Mariana had been able to concentrate enough to teleport herself out of the chains in the first place but the concentration had been tiring so she couldn't do it for Clint as well, which is what led to her having to take down the guards in the first place.

Clint groaned in pain when he dropped down onto his left leg and it almost folded from under him at the weight. He was quick to right himself with a hand on Mariana's shoulder and nodded that he would be okay to go on. She looked sceptical at first before moving toward the door with Clint limping behind her.

. . .

Almost every SHIELD agent in the building was avoiding Nick Fury. He was in a particularly pissy mood and while almost everyone was oblivious as to why that was, Maria Hill and Phillip Coulson knew it was because it had been almost six hours since Mariana had left to pick up Barton's crew and she still hadn't returned. It was no secret to Agents Hill and Coulson that the Director had a soft spot for the young teleporter.

The three were walking together through the halls of SHIELD headquarters discussing a possible 0-8-4, unlikely but possible, when there was a sudden commotion down the hall and more than a few agents ran around the corner at the end of the hall. The three senior agents were quick to follow, shoving their way through the crowd to find something quite unexpected.

Clint Barton was leaning on his bow and trying his damnedest to keep pressure off his left leg. He had about three arrows left in his quiver and a nasty gash above his right eye. His right elbow was leaning on the shoulder of Mariana Hadley, decked out in her full gear - mask and all - as she had an arm wrapped around her mid-section and appeared to have several tears in her uniform.

"Get them to medical," Fury ordered calmly as soon as he saw the pair and several agents moved to accommodate the order almost immediately. Fury knew he would spend the next while waiting for a report about the pair's conditions and if the hard look Agent Barton was shooting at him was anything to go by he would also be having a very long 'talk' with his best agent shortly after. However, he couldn't help but release a breath of relief as the crowd dispersed and he knew they were in good hands.

Only Coulson seemed to notice if the smirk he wore was any indication.

. . .

That 'conversation' Barton wanted to have with Fury was much more like a rant about Fury's apparent 'complete disregard for that girl's safety' and a list of demands for if she was ever to be sent into the field again.

The demands included a new, heat resistant, suit because "She still got burned through that cheap piece of crap," and "God-dammit Fury I know you have one."

The 'conversation' ended with a sharp "Oh, and I'll be training Mariana whenever I'm not on mission so expect to see my face around here a whole lot more." After Agent Barton had left, childishly slamming the door on his way out, Fury smiled to himself because he'd never expected Clint Barton to be one to so frankly point out all the shit he hadn't realised he'd been doing wrong.

Then he frowned because he distinctly heard Barton say the girl's name and he remembered telling her to keep her identity under lock and key for the time being. There were words to be had there but for now Fury settled for re-reading the mission reports from the both of them, preparing the condolence letters and ensuring Derek Bruster and his gun-running thugs stayed behind bars for a long time.