Notes: Yeah, this sweet little boy has been through quite a lot, huh? But I have to agree, CC: he definitely has the best dog ever.

Chapter 10: Hawkeye, Get Your Bow

Clint hadn't heard K get up and leave that morning, but she must have gone while he was dead to the world asleep, because by the time he emerged from his room, bedheaded and rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet, K was up, breakfast was ready… and there was a bow on the table.

Clint's eyes went wide when he saw it, and he quickly rushed over to see it. "You found me a hand-me-down," he said, gently reaching out to touch the bow.

K nodded lightly. "I told you — around here, it wasn't hard to find someone with an old bow."

"So, can I shoot it?" Clint asked.

"Won't do you a bit of good if you don't," she pointed out. "Just need to set up the target and walk you through the whole thing."

Clint grinned at that, and once he had his sights set on the bow, he practically wolfed down his breakfast at lightning speed, which had K shaking her head and smirking to herself at his enthusiasm when he was practically bouncing in place.

Sicem had picked up on Clint's enthusiasm, too, crouching down and wagging his tail and looking ready to pounce as soon as Clint got up before he simply started bounding around Clint's ankles all the way toward the barn.

Once they got out there, though, before Clint could start Robin Hood-ing, K made sure to set down some ground rules for the range. She took the time to show him how to hold the bow not just when he was shooting but when he was carrying it around, making sure to emphasize that he should never pick it up by the string or whack it against anything — or it would damage the bow and the wood could literally explode.

Which, of course, Clint thought was awesome, but he nodded all the same and swore to be very, very, very careful with the bow.

She showed him how to string the bow — the person who had owned it had a small red nock in the string to show him where to put his arrow — and where to put his hands as well. He wasn't supposed to draw the string back without an arrow, either — or he'd do a 'dry fire' and might hurt the bow.

Beginning bows were kind of… fragile.

"Don't worry about getting a bullseye to start with," K said as she strung an arrow on her bow — which was a lot more sturdy-looking than the one Clint was starting with. "Just try to hit the target at all, but aim for the center, of course." She pulled the string back so that Clint could see the way she positioned herself. "Find a spot you like … always go to it. I like to use the spot right by my ear and touch it with my thumb for my anchor point."

Clint nodded, watching her as she drew her bow back before he copied her movements, still grinning to himself as he set his sights on the target down the line.

"Mind your breathing," she said, her voice getting a little more even. "And release when you let out all your breath."

Clint wasn't sure why she wanted him to do that, but he followed the directions all the same, taking a huge breath and then letting it out at once at the same time he released his arrow…

… which was definitely not anywhere near the target. In fact, he hit the one beside it that K was aiming for.

He grinned sheepishly , turning toward K to watch as she released her own arrow, which of course hit the yellow middle of the target. And once she turned his way, he gave her a self-deprecating sort of smile. "We can totally say I was aiming for yours, right? I got on the black!"

"Totally," she agreed with a smirk. "It takes some time, and a ton of practice, but go ahead and use everything in your quiver before we go downrange. Try and relax a little. That will help."

"I'm just really excited," he admitted, smiling up at her.

"Oh, I know — but you have to relax, or you won't 'kill' your target."

Clint nodded, though before he strung his next arrow, he shot her a crooked smirk. "Maybe we should put faces on 'em instead… like… maybe… Jacques."

"Yeah? You wanna shoot him that badly?" she asked.

"He hit my big brother," Clint said. "Yeah."

She nodded at that. "And here I was … just planning on cutting important muscle groups that would screw up his career."

"That's mean, but it's not as much fun," Clint told her. "And I dunno about muscles and stuff. I just wanna Robin Hood him."

"Ah, well, I guess we'll need to teach you about anatomy too," she said. "Because you don't want to kill someone if you can help it. Even if it's an accident."

Clint nodded. "Yeah, I don't wanna hurt anybody," he said seriously. "Except… except maybe those bad guys that were gonna grab you. And Jacques," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Leave the nasty stuff to me," she said. "Go ahead and learn how to stop them. But I don't want you doing anything that you'll regret later."

Clint nodded thoughtfully before he raised his bow again and narrowed his eyes at the target. "Okay, if you say so," he said quietly before he let the arrow go, this time a little closer to his own target, though he ended up hitting the wood of the barn between the two targets.

"Progress toward your own," K said, taking a moment to check his stance and then turned his arrow around so the third fletching was down. "Might make it easier to see your target that way."

"Ooh, yeah, I didn't think about that," Clint said. He quickly checked to make sure that he was aiming right, glancing over at K, before he tried again, catching the edge of the target — but that was enough at least to get him grinning. "I hit it!"

"I am not surprised," She said before she ruffled his hair. "You'll have this down in no time."

Clint grinned and patted down his hair. "How come you like my head so much, huh?" he asked.

"I love yellow," she said in her most ridiculous voice. "And you're like a baby chick with this fluffy yellow fuzz."

"I am not," he grumbled.

"I love baby chicks," she said, smiling crookedly at him. "Peep peep."

"M-o-o-m." He scrunched up his nose at her. "I'm not a baby chick!"

"You're not, no," she agreed, smiling at him. "Ready to keep going, Robin of Loxley?"

He nodded at that, much happier with that nickname than the other one. "Does that make you ummm…. Little John, maybe?"

"Um … I'll take Maid Marian," she said, shaking her head.

"Okay, but that's a little weird, because she doesn't do much fighting in the stories, and you're really good at it."

"That you know of," K said, her hand on her hip. "Remember, the stories were written by boys. Probably had issues showing the princess kicking tail all over Sherwood forest."

"Oh, I didn't think about that," Clint said, nodding thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense. Especially if they were idiots like those cowboys who thought you couldn't ride."

"Well, and my family goes back to Vikings," she said. "And there were almost as many Viking ladies kicking butt as there were Viking men."

"Is that how come you're so good at kicking butt?" Clint asked as he nocked another arrow. "You're a Viking?"

K tipped her head to the side. "Let's go with yes," she said, nodding. "There haven't been Vikings for hundreds of years, but … sure. I'll bring it back."

"I think that's really, really cool," Clint said. "Maybe you can be a Viking and I can be Robin — and maybe they teamed up!"

"To overthrow English royalty? Likely," she agreed.

He grinned at that. "How come you know so much cool stuff, K?"

"I've read a lot, and I'm old. Remember?"

He nodded. "I'm… I'm not real good at reading," he admitted before he let an arrow fly — once again hitting the wood away from his target.

"Can't be better at anything without practice," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "I didn't really… go to school a lot. I kept running away," he said, looking a bit embarrassed by it.

"That's okay," she said. "You don't need to worry about that right now. We'll figure it out and get you going. You should get a diploma at least."

"Can I get a diploma in archery?" he asked with a crooked grin.

"If you could, I'd sign you up right now."

Clint smiled at that as he took out his last arrow. "I'd get all A's," he said with a determined little nod before he let that one fly, catching the edge of the target again. "I mean… once I practiced a little more…"

"This is day one," K pointed out. "There are people that do this for weeks and never hit the paper."

"Well, I got a real good teacher," Clint said, grinning up at her. "Much better than they got, I bet."

"Yes and no," she said. "Some people just don't get it. Not everyone can do anything."

"I guess so," Clint said, frowning a bit before he shrugged and followed K down the range to pick up his arrows. K made sure to show him how to get them out without breaking them, too, twisting her wrist with the motion, and he was grinning by the time he got his quiver reloaded.

The next five shots, though, had him a little frustrated, because even though he was hitting the edge of the target, he wasn't getting any closer in than the white rings — even if they were all close together.

But K pointed out that it was a good group — solid and in the same spot. "You're not pulling your arm back far enough. That'll tilt you to the left every time."

Clint nodded, looking even more determined, before he went down to the end of the range to retrieve his arrows, trying to get the stance a little better, making a 't' with his shoulders like K suggested.

It helped, and by the time Clint was getting tired enough that he was back to shooting to the left again, he had at least gotten on the blue, though he would have been happier if it was red or even yellow, like K got.

"You're getting tired," she said. "Probably ought to stop for today. You're going to be sore tomorrow."

"Yeah, I guess," Clint said, though it was obvious he didn't want to stop. "But this is really fun."

"You know … you can do this anytime you want now that you know where it is and how to get going on it …"

"I can?" Clint brightened up immediately, his eyes wide. "You mean it?"

"Hey. That's why I got the bow for you," she said.

"Yeah, but I thought maybe you… were s'pposed to supervise or something…"

"It's not like I have a schedule," K said. "I can come out with you whenever until you're comfortable — and then you can come out on your own."

"That would be really great," Clint said, nodding seriously. "And then I could show Barney I can get on the target!"

"See? Not bad, right?"

"I'm gonna be Robin Hood in no time," he agreed with a little laugh.

"You sure are, kiddo. Now … how about I take you through the woods a little bit?"

"Yes, please!" he said, bouncing again now that he had something new to be excited about

She shook her head at him and they headed toward the house to put away the bow and arrows and for K to pick up the shotgun before they started to walk through the forest with Sicem trotting ahead of them. K tipped her head his way and let her voice drop lower. "If Sicem can flush a partridge or two, we'll be set for dinner."

Clint nodded, a thoughtful sort of look crossing over his face before he giggled and shot her a smirk that meant all kinds of trouble. "I thought you liked baby birds. You really gonna kill one?"

"These are grown birds — and they are tasty," she said.

They didn't get much further before it sounded like a chicken exploded out of the underbrush, and a second later, K took the shot and Sicem darted into the ferns to find the bird. He emerged a short while later with his head held high and the little brown bird in his mouth.

Clint couldn't help but grin when he saw how proud Sicem looked. "Good boy, Sicem," he called out, which only had Sicem wagging his tail a little harder and looking pleased with himself.

"Just one more and we'll have dinner," K said. "Two if we give one to Sicem."

"We should let him have one," Clint said, rubbing Sicem's ears as K tucked away the first bird. "Look at him, Mom. He's a good dog," he added, though he was by that point mostly just spoiling the dog, who was more than happy to get scratches.

"He is," K agreed. "And I try to give him one. If nothing else, he gets the bones and the meat I don't like."

"He can have my bones too," Clint said.

The path they took brought them around the lake and through a cedar stand that turned into tall white birch trees, and shortly after that, the trail opened up next to a waterfall that led right down to a rocky shoreline on Lake Superior. "So we're pretty far out now," she said. "About two miles to get back…"

"That is pretty far," Clint said, his eyes wide, though he was grinning as he looked around the shore and the waterfall. "How come you got such a pretty house?"

"I like pretty things," she said. "Don't you?"

"I guess so," he said. "I like the waterfall too."

"There are a lot of them around here," she said. "Very pretty when it's frozen over."

"Oooh, yeah, I bet when it's all snowy and icy, everything looks amazing," Clint agreed, looking around the area and clearly picturing what it would look like in the winter, one eye shut as he did so.

"Mmmhmm," she agreed, nodding her head. "We'll have to get you boys some snowshoes and cross country skis."

"You already got some for you, huh?"

"I do," K replied. "You need them out here."

"That makes sense," Clint said as he started to climb up on some of the rocks, grinning to himself as he found handholds to get higher. "I'm gonna find the top of this thing while you and Sicem hunt. I bet I can get all the way up!" he called over his shoulder, already scrambling up a little higher as he did so.

"You won't have too far to go," K called back. "But we'll just wait for you. Give the birds a chance to settle in again."

"Scaredy birds!" he giggled.

She smirked up at hm for that and leaned against a tree, which gave Sicem a chance to head over and lay down next to her with his head in her lap. It was peaceful anyhow — listening to the waterfall and watching the waves.

When Clint finally came back down again, he was grinning and had mud stains down most of his left side where he'd slide a little bit — and a little mud on his cheek. "You gotta come up there with me sometime, because it's really cool!" he told her. "You can see right down the whole waterfall!"

"If you like that, I'll have to take you to the mountains a little west of here," K said, one eye closed as she looked up at him.

"We can do that maybe after we have Christmas and stuff with Barney," Clint agreed with a grin. "I like traveling with you!"

"Yeah, probably won't be until springtime," K said. "Most of the trails are only good for snowmobiles and serious cross country skiers that time of year."

Clint nodded at that. "Okay," he said. "We'll do that later, when Barney's at the circus. And … and we gotta take some Polaroids to bring back for him so he can see too!"

"We can do that — or send him a postcard," she said. "They have postcards of Lake Of The Clouds — which is where we'd be going."

"That sounds like a made-up place," Clint said, laughing to himself at his own little joke.

"It's not," she promised. "It's a big, flat lake in the middle of the Porcupine Mountains — way up high."

Clint grinned crookedly at K. "Somewhere over the rainbow?"

"Tell you what," K said, shaking her head at him. "We can go before all the leaves fall off the trees — that's when it's prettiest anyhow."

"But… we just got all set up here!"

"It's just an hour away," she laughed. "We can go for a day and come back."

"Okay, good, because I like it here," he said, nodding along happily.

The two of them headed back toward the cottage, and on the way, Sicem flushed the two birds they were hoping for. And once they'd gotten them tucked away, he kept flushing them out too — cracking up Clint every time the noisy birds exploded from the underbrush.

Still, Clint was getting pretty worn out by the time they got back home and K started up dinner, and he wound up curling up on the couch with Sicem and playing with him for a while until the food was ready — yawning all the way up to the table.

"Can we go to the cloud place tomorrow?" he asked K as he climbed into his seat. "Since you said I would be sore from archery, I wanna do something else maybe."

"Sure," K said. "We'll get up early, pack a picnic and head out," she said. "It'll take some time to hike up to it, but it'll be worth it."

"My feet're gonna get really tired living out here," he said with a little smirk.

"Maybe," K said. "But you'll get strong and be able to keep going when everyone else craps out."

"You think so?" Clint asked, one eyebrow raised. "I'm pretty small…."

"That's the best time to start. When you're small and have energy," K said.

"But you're old and you don't get tired," Clint pointed out.

"When I was little, I used to get tired," she said with a little frown. "We'd go out on hikes, and I'd have to get carried back."

"Really?" Clint scrunched up his nose. "That doesn't sound like you."

"I was a little kid," K said, shaking her head. "I didn't get to be like … this until I was almost ten."

Clint let out a low whistle. "Do you think I'm gonna take that long before I get strong?" he asked.

"Probably not," she said thoughtfully. "I was a really sick, skinny little thing."

Clint tipped his head her way before he rushed over and hugged her. "It's okay," he said quietly. "I'm pretty small, and I got a broken ear, so we can match."

K couldn't stop the smile as she wrapped him up just as tightly as he was hugging her. "You're a sweet kid, you know that?"

"You keep saying that," he said with a small smile.

"Well, you keep proving that."

Clint grinned at her and then gave her another hug. "Love you too," he said quietly.