A/N: So... I was on vacation. Kinda. I wanted to post this chapter before I went away but I wasn't completely satisfied with it. The chapter was betaed. Then I made some changes. I don't think I messed up too much, so I'm just gonna post it. Also, you might be happy to hear that the next chapter is already written. I'm looking for someone to beta, but that shouldn't take too long.

His target was a young man named Gordon Dennon, who'd recently made the journey from Kabul to New York. Clint was to follow him around and find out what his business here was. So far he'd only walked in circles around the same block – clearly the guy was looking for a tail, but unfortunately for him Clint saw better from a distance.

Clint wasn't sure what the guy had done that had piqued SHIELD's interest in the first place (that hadn't been part of the briefing; things like that never were), but – if the way he was constantly looking over his shoulder was any indication to go by – he was going to do it or something similar again soon. Maybe even very soon.

True, this was one of those rookie missions nothing ever happened on but he was not going to make the mistake to not take this assignment serious. He was glad they gave him a mission at all. And the best part, they didn't want him to kill anyone…

"I only did for her what you did for me," protested Clint upon hearing that he was still suspended.

"I know," replied Coulson. Clint saw him hesitate. That could only mean that Clint wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

"Just say it."

Coulson sighed. "You can't stall dealing with it forever, you know."

"Did Fury say that?" he asked.

"I get that it's not easy but it's not going to go away if you keep ignoring what happened. If anything, it's going to get worse."

"And what do you know about that sort of thing?!" snapped Clint, unintentionally raising his voice.

As Dennon stopped walking in circles and entered a restaurant Clint climbed down the nearest fire escape and followed him inside.

He saw Dennon being led to a booth in the far back and watched as the waiter removed the 'reserved' sign from the table.

"Good evening, Sir. Are you alone or will someone be joining you?" Clint turned to the woman standing behind the high desk to his right.

"I'm meeting my date here," he replied, smiling politely at her.

The woman smiled back and gestured for him to wait one moment. She turned around and addressed the waiter standing by, "Kevin, would you please show this young man to one of our tables for two?"

"Of course. This way, Sir."

"I've experienced loss," replied Coulson.

"I'm not experiencing loss, Coulson," said Clint and got up. "He'd already been dead to me!" The air around them went very quiet very suddenly. Clint hadn't meant to yell but he wasn't going to apologize for it either.

"If you agree to see Dr. Kendall again, you'll be given some local missions. If you don't, Fury will suspend you."

"That's blackmail. That's-" Clint stopped himself from saying more. He needed to leave - now - or he was going to punch something.

"Clint," said Coulson but Clint was already out the door.

Clint spend the next few minutes sipping on water while he waited very unsuccessfully on his imaginary date. He wasn't the only one though. If Dennon was meeting here with someone the other party took its sweet time arriving.

After ten more minutes of sipping it seemed pretty clear that whoever Dennon was supposed to meet wasn't going to show anymore.

Eventually Dennon – visibly irritated - asked for the receipt. Clint followed suit.

"I don't think she's going to show anymore," said Clint as a way of excuse while he paid. He'd been receiving sympathetic looks from the waiters each time they came past and he was still sitting alone.

Clint got up and hastily headed after Dennon after the waiter had left. Out on the street again, he quickly scanned the area for his target and spotted him on the other side of the street heading east.

"Clint?"

Clint's body had already been moving to keep up with Dennon's fast pace when he heard someone call out his name.

His head snapped in the direction of the voice. Then he froze.

About fifteen feet away stood Tony, wearing one of his fancy suits.

"You can do so much better."

"Excuse me?" Clint looked up from his drink and at the bartender.

"That's what I wanted to tell you when you two started flirting at my bar," he explained quickly, "but, you know, it wasn't my business."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Clint.

"Having had a front row seat to the development of your relationship, I found myself forced to change my mind."

Despite the fact that there might not be a relationship left to speak of after what had happened the last time Clint waited for the bartender to go on.

"When Tony Stark first walked through that door" - he pointed in the door's general direction - "I thought he was looking to sweep someone off their feet with his fake smiles and weighty wallet only to discard them again after he'd gotten what he'd wanted. I was very much opposed to the idea that that someone was going to be one of my customers but to my surprise he actually needed a drink. Still, that didn't change my opinion of him in the slightest. I served him his drink and hoped that he would leave soon after. You however just had to strike up a conversation with him.

"You looked pretty troubled yourself, so – I don't know – maybe you saw an opportunity to forget about your own worries for the night.

"Imagine my thoughts when you two did the whole thing over again a few days later.

"What I'm saying is, neither of you were serious about the other in the beginning. Your relationship was born out of convenience. Though when I look at you now... If the way both of you light up when the other comes through that door is any indication to go by, I can safely say that you make each other incredibly happy and honestly what do we want more in life?"

"You seem very optimistic for a man of your profession," said Clint, receiving a grin in return.