"So you just turned fifteen, right?" Pepper took a sip of her coffee as she spoke to the new guest, who was distracted by a particular Andy Warhol style painting of Tony Stark with the word "hero" under his portrait. Clint had to nudge her in the side to snap her back into reality.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, just a month ago, actually."

"Well that's exciting!"

"Mhm." Clint wandered off into the kitchen to fill up his cup again while the girls continued talking about random nuances. He glanced around at the shiny new countertops and stainless steel pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. Everything had a vague sense of new, as he remembered Tony mentioning he was planning to remodel this kitchen and a few of the bathrooms the last time he was here. He had been on a paid vacation by SHIELD, along with Steve, Natasha, and the owner of the mansion himself when he last came to visit, which was something close to two years ago. The peace and quiet was a needed respite after the havoc at New York, but it only lasted for a short while before Clint and Natasha had yet again been called out for a new international mission.

"I noticed you were looking at a lot of the artwork and sculptures-are you interested in becoming an artist?" Pepper's cheery voice even reached the kitchen, just enough for Clint to hear.

"Kind of, it's more like a hobby I guess. I would like to learn photography though."

Looking out through the glass window, Clint watched as various beachgoers lazed around in the sand. They reminded him of his last visit here, especially when he managed to stuff a crab down Tony's swim trunks. He smiled to himself, even though he felt a new realization tug at him.

I haven't talked to Natasha in over two weeks.

He frowned, begging to wonder if she was as worried about him as he was about her. The last he had heard, she was somewhere in Alaska, working out some Russian drug dealer case that she had been on for at least six weeks. "I'm a professional SHIELD agent, not some mediocre police man you call in for ridiculous cases like these." she had bitterly muttered before giving Clint an awkward hug goodbye. "You take what you can get, though, and this is all I've got. See you later, Clint."

The sudden thought of Natasha dead in a snow bank suddenly hit him. He knew she could handle herself in any situation presented to her, but then again, he always heard the stories about the class A professionals who died on a rookie-level mission. But maybe the case was more than she had expected, and she let her guard down at the wrong time, leading to her own death.

He couldn't run fast enough to find his cell phone.

Sure, it wasn't very smart for a secret agent to have a cell phone when it could easily drop his cover, but he took the risk anyway. He liked the simple comfort of knowing he could call anyone when he needed to at any moment, and he was careful about who he called and when, too. Although he was one of the only agents to have a cell phone, he was smart about using it, just so the privilege wouldn't be taken away from him within seconds, as SHIELD had always warned him.

Digging through his bag, he looked to the bottom where his old Blackberry was buried between various t-shirts and jeans.

No new messages

He sighed, partially in disappointment. Taking it upon himself, he decided to call Natasha while he still had the chance.

After three rings, she picked up. "Hello?"

"Natasha?"

"Yes?"

"…..Hi."

She laughed, breathing into the receiver loud enough for Clint to hear. "Hi Clint." He laughed back, just happy to hear her voice again. "Is something wrong?"

"No, just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Oh- I'm doing well, thanks for asking."

"How's the mission going?"

"Well, it'd be going better if these damn Russians didn't know how to hide their drugs so well. We've found one supply, but we've been getting messages that we're only touching the tip of the iceberg."

"I thought you had the professionals on the case."

"Yeah, if you consider professionals to be complete and total sellouts with a habit of blowing our cover whenever the opportunity arises" She remarked with a snarky tone. Someone yelled at her in another language on her end of the conversation, to which she yelled back in a similar manner. He vaguely recognized some French words here and there. With a huff of indignation, she returned to the conversation, in English this time.

"How's witness protection program treating you?"

He sneaked a peek into the living room, where Pepper and Anise glanced over at him from a distance. He took the hint that he was distracting them from their conversation and walked outside onto the balcony area. "Oh, it's different than what I expected."

"Really? How so?"

He paused. "I dunno. It's been…interesting, I suppose."

"Stark texted me a few hours back saying you had to relocate to his beach house-what kind of interesting are you talking about, exactly?"

"A kind of interesting I don't understand. There's something they're not telling me or Anise, and it's making me curious as to what SHIELD is trying to hide."

"Wait-who's Anise?"

"The girl they asked me to watch." He picked at his fingernails, clearing out some flecks of dirt.

"Oh yeah. Sorry, you were saying?"

"Her parents died in an accident a few days ago, and she's been under their watch for over three months, but no reason as to why. Have you heard of anything suspicious going on lately?"

"Not anything that would be related to your case, but the base has been in a kind of frenzy lately."

"What have you heard?"

She huffed, breathing into the receiver. "There's been a rumor going around about a hostage case and they have reason to believe Loki or some of his minions are the ones behind it."

"When did you hear this?"

"About three hours ago. I figure someone would've told you by now."

"Natasha, they don't tell me anything anymore."

"They just don't want to stress you out any more than you already are about Loki."

"I never said I was stressing out about Loki." He emphasized his words carefully, trying to convince her that he wasn't lying. "That damn psychiatrist wanted a nice paycheck, and she's been telling them lies since day one. You know I'm doing perfectly okay on my own."

"Clint-"

"Tell me you don't see it."

"Excuse me?"

Gripping the handrail of the balcony with one white-knuckled hand, he spoke quietly. "Tell me you don't think they're up to something. There's a reason I'm here right and not halfway across the world, and you know I'm right."

"I'm not saying that you're wrong, Clint." Her tone was just as harsh and strained as his. "I'm just saying that you should just focus on getting the mission accomplished for now. The more stress you show, the more they won't tell you and the more likely you'll have to start back at the psychiatrist again. Just try and lay low, alright? I've got to go, we've got a lead."

Taking a minute to release his grip on the railing, he calmed himself down and returned to a normal speaking voice. "Alright. Oh, and Nat?"

"Yeah?"

"Knock 'em dead."

He could tell she was smiling on her end of the receiver, even if he wasn't looking at her face to face. The thought made him smile as well.

"You got it." And with that, the line went dead. He pressed the "end" button and stuffed the phone in his pocket. Now reassured that Natasha was alive and okay, he could start to relax. The thought of Loki and all the lying in his workplace bothered him, but he couldn't let it show. He knew Pepper would start to worry again, even though he had told her enough times that he was perfectly fine. The other Avengers didn't know what to make of him; they kindly respected that the events that had unfolded in New York left a somewhat traumatic mark on him, but he had grown away from that pain and moved on. Nick Fury and Maria Hill were some of the many people who disagreed and thought he still needed to be under careful watch. They sent various field agents to watch him during his daily life, which started bothering him greatly at first, but he eventually became used to the attention and moved on as if he didn't know any better. He still went on missions, completing them as quickly and efficiently as possible, but he wasn't assigned anything too big, just in case he would "snap", as his psychiatrist has called it. Clint still held firm to the belief that she was only in it for the money.

"Clint? Are you alright?" Pepper had slid open the glass door to check on him, and Anise was standing inside, looking out as well.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine. I just had to make a call."

"Are you sure? Because if you need anything-"

"Thank you Pepper, but I'm perfectly fine."

She stared back with a stony expression, something similar to what Tony would do if he thought you weren't telling the truth. Nodding, she turned to go back inside. "Well, I was just telling Anise that I have some papers to work on, but you're free to give a tour or just look around."

"Okay, thank you Pepper."

"You're welcome" She smiled warmly at the two before leaving. Anise took the hint as her opportunity to sit on the balcony as well.

"So I heard you mention a Natasha, isn't that your lady friend you talked about earlier?"

He smirked and looked over to where she was casually leaning on the railing, hands clenched in a fist. "None of your business, pipsqueak."

She smiled back, grinning the same toothy grin she had a habit of forming. "You know, one of these days you're going to have to tell me something to feed my curiosity."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! I might just die if I don't meet her; I need to know who's got you all up in a frazzle. It's literally killing me right now."

"Yeah, sure."

"I'm not saying I'm expecting any introductions right away, just in the near future would be nice."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind."

"Good. Now how about some lunch then? And no McDonald's please, I think I've had enough Chicken McNuggets for a lifetime."