Author's Note: Sorry for the later-than-usual update, I've... well... I've been sick with strep throat and in so much pain (it felt like someone had shoved a mace down my gullet) that I couldn't even think about writing or touching my computer. But I've been feeling a little better - but still sick - so I figured I'd put this longer-than-usual chapter to make everyone like me more.
Sorry "callieandjack", but Clint's only on the 5-Hour Energy for that one second. However, now the gears are turning and it might show up again. Just for humor.
To the Guest who remarked that the last chapter was either 'underpar' or 'subpar', whichever one, let me explain that that chapter was more of a bridge. And I've been busy. It wasn't meant to be riveting. It was something I wrote because people deserved something. I completely understand my writing isn't always so-amazing-they're-gonna-die. So please, do your best to not be a Negative-Nelly in future. I can't write something as fantastic as The Hunger Games in every chapter. Did you not read my previous "Author's Note"s about having a lack of inspiration?
Now that I'm done being a Negative-Nelly, I'll go back to being Positive-Polly. Thanks guys for being so supportive. I'm really glad people are liking this. I seriously came up with the idea for this in an hour - like... back in September or something. It makes me happy that I keep getting all this happy feedback. You guys make me feel awesome!
By the way, this is the chapter where things start getting a little more interesting.
"CLINT! Can you come and help me?" Violet-Sky shouted. Her cousin came in wearing a very nice tuxedo-suit hybrid. She had her back to him. The rest of the zipper to her dress was in that one spot she just couldn't reach. He strolled over to her and helped ease the metal zigzag up until it was complete. He'd thought he'd seen a bit of her combat clothes under it, but pulling away shook the thought off—the dress fit her muscled body like a glove and there was no putting anything under it. She thanked him and he went back off to tie his bowtie.
High-heels sitting on the edge of the sink, Violet-Sky leaned close to the mirror and applied her makeup. She hated the stuff, but Clint had insisted. The red-violet lipstick, the mascara, the pale purple eyeshadow, the foundation, the rouge, it all drove her crazy. But for Clint's sake, she put up with it.
Her diamond-ringed amethyst necklace hung on some of the little bare skin of her chest. She glanced at the gorgeous up-do she had watched Natasha make with agile fingers ten minutes ago—the redhead had only come over for a half an hour to force Violet-Sky's rogue hair to cooperate. It looked beautiful, and was so loaded with hairspray it was almost as hard as a rock. It reminded her of one time she had to spray her hair white to be George Washington in a Third Grade pageant. Her hair refused to move until two washes later.
"Ready?" Clint asked, strolling into her room. She shot him a look in the mirror—his bowtie was the same color as her dress.
"Just about…" she trailed off, leaning against the wall to put her foot in her shoe. He caught her arm and steadied her. She thanked him as she pulled her other shoe on. When he released her, she retrieved her small purple purse from her desk chair and hung the light chain on her arm. "There. Now I'm ready." Clint looked her up and down.
"Not quite," he decided. Produced from behind his back came a small white box. "I brought this back to you from Ohio." He gave it to her with a flourish and nudged her. "Open it up," he prompted. Giving him a wary look, she complied. Her jaw slapped her chest.
"An iPod Touch?" she demanded. Clint grinned. "Thank you thank you thank you!" Her arms were squeezing his neck before he could open his mouth.
"Well, I noticed your old iPod is a little out-of-date—"
"It's only six years old!"
"That's my point. They didn't have purple, and I figured you wouldn't want pink," he kept going like she hadn't interrupted.
"I love blue!" she exclaimed.
"Put it in your bag. You can take a 'selfie' or whatever with Tony Stark tonight," Clint suggested. Violet-Sky laughed. "Oh, and he already configured it for you." She didn't know Stark could have done that, but at the moment she didn't care. Clint picked up his chrome briefcase and offered her his arm like a proper gentleman. She grinned giddily and took it. They strolled—rather quickly because they were slightly late—out of the apartment and down to Clint's car. Violet-Sky never lost her infectious smile.
"Miss Barton, Clint," Steve Rogers greeted them, giving Violet-Sky a slight bow. He wore a very fetching, black, formal army uniform. She beamed at him with friendly humor and allowed him to kiss her hand. She blushed uncontrollably as his warm grip touched her cold, tiny hand. But she greeted him kindly and let her cousin sweep her off to the dance floor. She hadn't danced in a long time. But Clint was warm—like her dad. And she used to dance with him all the time. Slowly she relaxed into her cousin's grip, becoming accustomed to his form of dance.
"Mind if I cut in?" a new voice asked. Clint and Violet-Sky looked over. Stark.
"Not at all," Clint said. "But if you so much as step on her toe you'll be sorry." Violet-Sky snorted.
"You sound like my dad," she observed.
"You loved him very much. I will take that as a compliment," Clint murmured in her ear as he passed her over to Stark. She grinned.
"Well, Baby Barton, how do you like the party?"
"I like it now. But in a few hours when my feet are killing me and everyone's had one-too-many glasses of champagne or wine I don't think I'll like it as much." Stark smiled and gave her a bemused wink. He appreciated her wit. She always had something to say.
When their dance was over, Clint took her back. Slowly, he led her out of the main room and into a side hall. He was silent and tense the whole time. She was seriously concerned by the time they stopped somewhere no one would see them. His eyes were burning with something—and they were also torn.
The truth was he didn't know how to break it to her. He sat her down on a chair and seated himself opposite her. He rubbed his forehead a few times, deep in thought.
"Violet-Sky… there's something I have to tell you," he started slowly, choosing his words very carefully. She raised one of her eyebrows expectantly. There was that Barton-family spirit, shining out through her violet eyes. "Vi… this party isn't just for me getting back. This is for your promotion to Level Four of SHIELD. Tristan is going to come marching through that elevator door any time now." She recoiled in confusion.
"But I'm only on Level Two. Wait. How did you know I worked for SHIE—?"
"Because I work there too. I'm not a lawyer," Clint interrupted.
"What are you then?" she demanded. He sighed.
"I'm…" he paused. But most of the truth was already out. No going back now—even if he wanted to. "I'm… I'm Hawkeye." Her face turned into a mask of tan blankness. She stared at him with glassy eyes as her mind fit all the pieces together. "I should have told you the day we met. I'm sorry."
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked breathlessly. "We both work for SHIELD…"
"I know. I wanted to. But I wanted to protect you—and I was under orders."
"Clint… you don't lie to family!" she murmured. "Even to protect them! Why did you?"
"Violet-Sky, it's… been… a very long time since I had a family—much less one to protect. I can't quite remember the dos and don'ts. I've known you were SHIELD since before I met you. Fury ordered me to take you in—but even if he hadn't, I couldn't condemn my own family to the foster system. I grew up in it and wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, much less my cousin."
For once, she was speechless. She just stared at him and tried to think of something to say.
She was saved from having to do so by a very loud CRASH!
Both Bartons jumped and ran back into the main ballroom, Clint pulling Violet-Sky along as she couldn't run well in high heels. When they reached the grand cavernous room, they both skidded to a halt, staring stupidly.
A man who looked remarkably like Clint was standing on the remains of a broken window triumphantly up on the indoor balcony. He radiated the shimmering heat people saw in the middle of the desert. Clint's whole face went completely slack. As did Violet-Sky's. He had the same stature and posture as the man in her dream. She clutched Clint's—Hawkeye's—solid, powerful arm to make sure she was still in reality and hadn't slipped back into a dream world. But no. The man was there, leering at them.
"Clint… who's that?" she whispered. His lips were mouthing the same word over and over.
Barney.
"My brother," he mumbled. "My big brother." Violet-Sky's eyes widened.
"Is he… normal? Like… unsuperpowered?" she muttered.
"I thought he was dead. Last time I saw him, he was unsuperpowered. Not anymore by the looks of it," Clint replied. Their conversation went unnoticed as the crowd around them shuffled but didn't dare look away from the heated man—Barney Barton. Hawkeye's brother.
"VIOLET-SKY BARTON!" he shouted over the heads of the guests. The assorted upper-class people stared at him like idiots.
"We've gotta lead him away from these people," Clint—Hawkeye—whispered to his young cousin. Violet-Sky shot him a look that snapped No, duh! She knelt swiftly, her skirt flaring around her, and undid the buckles of her high heels. Slowly she eased them off her feet. When she stood back up, there were three other Avengers standing there talking to Clint. Stark, Rogers, and Natasha.
"Go, get her to safety. We'll hold him off and give these other people time to get away," Natasha was saying. Stark and Rogers nodded in agreement. Violet-Sky—who only knew that Stark was an Avenger—wondered how the other two were going to help. Of course, she thought, Rogers is in the military. That must count for something. But Natasha didn't look capable of holding off a high-powered man intent on stealing away the one teenager at the party. But Clint grabbed Violet-Sky's hand and nodded to them.
"Get ready to run," he whispered to her. She nodded once and gathered as much skirt as she could in her small hand. A hand rested on her shoulder. She turned.
"Tristan!" she murmured. Her trainer smiled.
"Good luck. I'll help the others," he told her. She hadn't even seen him come in. He had a bad habit of being nearly invisible when he wanted to—with Barney's sudden entrance, he probably employed all of his stealth skills to reach her without drawing attention to her. She gave him a small grin.
"I think it's you guys who need the luck. He looks like he's been in the microwave for about ten minutes too long," she told him. He beamed.
"We'll be fine. Go," he ordered. Clint began weaving through the crowd of appalled people slowly, so as not to attract attention. The three Avengers and the SHIELD agent advanced towards the newcomer swiftly, hoping to draw his gaze to them and give Clint and Violet-Sky some time to get to the stairs. It worked—at least for the moment. He leapt from the balcony and landed twenty feet away from them. Natasha pulled her dress off to reveal her combat clothes as she ran toward him. She too had pulled her high heels off.
End Note: Seriously guys, I'm sorry my author's notes are so long, but somethings just need explaining. And I bet not everyone reads the whole thing anyway. Just if they see their username in it because I'm replying to their review. Anyway, enjoy!
DUN DUN DUN! Barney's here! Good plot getting started!
Cass