Clint Barton is a true assassin. Very focused, and very stubborn. For his line of work, this a good thing. Very good, considering that he's thought to be a model agent by those who rank below him. And a pain the in neck to those above him, though tolerable, because he's one of the best.

That's probably why he hasn't been terminated as of yet. He's an asset. A compromised asset, but still an asset.

It wasn't that his employers strictly forbid him from going to Washington to receive his shiny medal or ribbon or whatever the hell they planned on giving the Avengers. But Fury wasn't shy, nor did the man attempt to be subtle when suggesting that it be best that he not go. Said he should rest up, because this extended leave wasn't going to be happening again for a long time. Or until he saved the world from another attack by robotic aliens led by a jealous, psycho god rebelling against his godly sort-of-father and godly sort-of-brother. Whichever came first.

Clint liked to argue with his superiors. Well, not argue, but find small ways to tell them just where they can shove their superiority complex. This was a known fact.

But this wasn't something he was going to argue with. Because he'd been compromised, had turned upon his allies. Murdered them as part of a strategy that could only come from the coldest part of his own mind.

Natasha told him differently, which was probably why he wasn't totally drowning in guilt. This is on Loki, not him, she said. And part of that's true, because that darkness within him that he so carefully keeps under lock and key would have never have surfaced if it weren't for the spiteful god. But the fact remains that it's there, and he acted on it. And now Coulson is dead, Natasha was almost killed by the Hulk-by Dr. Banner-in a freak out caused by him, and numerous others are gone too.

And damn if that doesn't hurt.

So tonight instead of boarding the jet for Washington, he'll sit here on his bed with Natasha, talking about everything and nothing all at once. The woman is fresh from her bath, her red hair dried perfectly, because Natasha hates it when her hair is wet. The politicians can keep their accolades, he doesn't deserve them.

Tonight they'll simply be Natasha and Clint, and they'll both mourn the red on their ledger.

I declare that assassins/spies are difficult to write, because Clint was as much trouble as Natasha, if not more so. I hope I did him justice. Next, Thor.

Thank you everyone who has reviewed. Reviews are literally the first thing I check for when I get on the Internet, and seeing that people enjoy reading my writing is rather epic, to me anyways.

So don't be shy, reviews are always appreciated.