I'm still here! To reward you for your patience, please enjoy this longer than usual chapter, which will involve a mission - yay! As always, thanks to my faithful readers, followers, reviewers, and favoriters - this wouldn't be half as much fun without you!

And now, on to our story...

"Have I told you I love how your mind works?" Clint murmured before leaving a trail of bruising kisses down her neck. Mikayla responded by moaning and dragging her nails through his hair. Before she knew it, Clint had taken off their clothes, and their hands were roaming over each other, eventually ending with each of them reaching release. "Damn," Clint gasped, "we didn't even use the chocolate."

"Oh, I'm sure it will get used," Mikayla said, returning from the bathroom, sitting back down on the couch, and laying her head on Clint's chest.

Clint watched her limping on her way back, wincing as she sat down. "Are you okay? Did you need some pain meds?"

Mikayla shook her head. "Maybe just some aspirin. I think I overdid it today. Before you say anything, I was stubborn and used the braces instead of the wheelchair, and now I'm paying for it. So, go ahead, say it."

"Say what?"

"I told you so."

"Nope, not happening. You know I won't do that to you. It's not my style unless you're Stark." He pulled her close. "Guess this means I won't have to remind you to use the wheelchair now." He kissed her temple and noticed a tear trailing down her cheek. "Does it hurt that much?"

"No. I'm just afraid."

"Of what?"

"Afraid I disappointed you and that you're ashamed of me for not listening to you."

"God, Mikayla," Clint said, sitting up, drawing her even closer, and wiping the tear away with his thumb, "I could never be disappointed or ashamed of you. Your determination and stubbornness are parts of who you are, and I love all of you, not just parts of you. Believe me. You'll learn how far you can push your body and when to hold back. It's not an easy lesson, but you'll learn it." He cupped her face and turned it toward him. "Mikayla, listen to me. I know I'm not one to talk about obeying doctors. We all know I tend not to listen to medical personnel, though I will heed Doc's advice more than most. Don't follow in my footsteps, okay?"

Mikayla nodded, then leaned in and kissed him. "Thanks, Clint. I need to keep remembering how much you love me."

"You've been through a lot. It'll take time to get over it, but I'll be here with you every step of the way. Now, let's get you bathed and dressed. Your girls' day out will be continued tomorrow. Pepper has someone coming over to style your hair, and I've been ordered to stay away."

"What will you do to pass the time?"

"We men are going ax throwing."

"I'm sorry, did you say ax throwing? Please tell me you're teaming up, and it's you and Thor against the other three."

Clint laughed. "You called it. I have a feeling we may have to remind Thor the ax isn't like Mjolnir. I just hope the place is still standing when we're done."

"Please humor me and take photos."

"I will if you promise to take it easy this evening and tomorrow."

"Deal." Mikayla stood up. "Now, let's get to bathing." Clint and Mikayla emerged from Clint's room about thirty minutes later and appeared in the common area. "Mmm, I smell food."

"Bruce is cooking this evening," Steve turned around and smiled at the couple.

"Hope you like Indian," Bruce said, standing in front of the stove stirring something in a large pot.

"I love Indian. Please tell me we're having chicken biryani, or at least those yummy meatballs." Mikayla came over to stand next to him. "We are! Good thing my appetite is slowly coming back." She hugged Bruce. "You're my hero."

"Hey, I thought I was your hero," Clint strutted over to her as he pouted.

Mikayla turned to Clint. "But Indian food, Clint. Nothing compares to Indian food." For good measure, she hugged Bruce a little tighter. In response, Bruce blushed and continued stirring.

Clint sidled up to her and whispered, "If that's all it takes, I'll fly you to India myself, then we can talk about Indian food. There's this little place in Mumbai, best chicken biryani ever."

"You had me at chicken biryani," Mikayla dropped her arms from around Bruce and draped them over Clint's shoulders. "I'm yours."

Clint cleared his throat. "You were mine already."

"No one else's I'd rather be." Mikayla kissed Clint.

"Bruce, hand me a lemon so I can throw it at Barton's head to knock the sappiness out of it," Natasha joked, returning from working out.

"It's done," Bruce said, then began transferring the food from the pans on the stove to the bowls on the counter. Once that was done, he placed the bowls on the island. "Help yourselves." He took the towel he'd been using as a potholder and placed it over his shoulder. Everyone took a bowl, dished out food, then passed it to the next person, and began eating once the food was served.

"This is delicious, Bruce," Mikayla said. "You should cook more often." Everyone else nodded or voiced their agreement.

"Thanks," Bruce said in between bites.

Small conversations were going on while the group was enjoying their dinner. Tony and Pepper had shown up and filled plates, joining everyone around the island. Tony started talking to Bruce about upgrading his suits again. Steve and Thor were talking about movies. Pepper, Nat, and Mikayla were going over their day together. Clint sat back and watched the conversations while keeping an eye on Mikayla as she ate. He was pleased to see her eating most of her food along with participating in the conversation.

Everyone thanked Bruce as they stood up and loaded their dishes into the dishwasher. Once Bruce started the dishwasher, he met everyone in the living room and looked around to see the others in their usual spots, which of course, meant Clint and Mikayla were on the loveseat. No one would say it out loud, but everyone would agree that was the best sight of all. "What are we watching this evening?" Mikayla asked.

"Why don't you choose?" Pepper suggested.

"Thanks, but I'll probably fall asleep before the movie ends, so I'll pass this time." Mikayla curled into Clint, and he put his arm around her. After a discussion, they went with a James Bond marathon, which was always interesting when the two SHIELD agents watched. The two of them always had their own observations when it came to those movies. Everyone sat back and got comfortable as the first movie started.

Before the movie ended, Clint looked over and noticed Mikayla's eyes beginning to droop. "Time for bed," he murmured. Mikayla nodded, so Clint stood and helped her up. "Night, everyone." Mikayla waved at them as the couple left the living room and went back to Mikayla's suite. "Go ahead and change. I'll grab the medicine."

Mikayla limped into the bedroom and gently took off her top, then collapsed face-first onto her bed. She was glad she'd chosen to wear a sweatshirt since her back was still too sore for bra straps. "Aah," she moaned as she hit the mattress.

"Hurting?" Clint asked, sitting down next to her.

"Aching, ankle mainly. Believe me. I've learned my lesson. It's the wheelchair going forward." After Clint put the cream on her back, she sat up, and he handed her one of his t-shirts. "Clint?"

"Hmm?"

"What caused this, and why don't I remember it?" Mikayla pointed to her stomach.

"When you were in the barn, he burned you with an electric cattle prod." Clint lifted his shirt to show his faded scar. "I've got one, too. He told me he was doing that to you, so we'd have matching scars."

Mikayla shivered. "He truly was an evil bastard, wasn't he?"

"Was, being the correct term." Clint put his arm around Mikayla. "He won't bother anyone ever again, thanks to you."

Mikayla's voice softened. "I can't believe I…I killed a man, Clint." She looked down at her hands. "With these. I ended someone's life with these two hands." Her hands started shaking, and she started rocking back and forth as it hit her what she had done. "Clint, I – "

"Shhh," Clint held her tighter, taking her hands in his. "Yes, you did."

"I mean," she said through the sobs, "I know I was defending myself, but my actions killed someone." Clint stayed silent and let her cry it out. This was something she was going to have to come to terms with. A life spent killing people who, for the most part, didn't deserve to live was not an easy life. Clint felt like he'd been doing it for so long it had almost become blasé to him. He had to come to a point in his life where he didn't think about the lives his targets had outside of their criminal activities. He did his best to avoid collateral damage and tried his best not to harm civilians and certainly not children. The jobs that didn't end well, he took the hardest. The more years he was with SHIELD, the fewer of those jobs there were. He'd learned in the army about killing people from a distance, though that was during a war, so the circumstances were different. He knew Mikayla would have to learn how to accept the fact she ended someone's life, even if that someone was his scumbag of a brother. He wished he could go back and end him before Mikayla had to, feeling he was better equipped to deal with the emotionality of it after the fact. Mikayla's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Can you forgive me?"

"For what?"

"For taking your brother's life."

Clint hugged her even tighter than he already was. "Mikayla, look at me." He cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "You have done nothing to be forgiven for. The piece of shit had been stalking and tormenting you for a while. He escalated to kidnapping and torturing you. You chose to live. Why would I need to forgive you for that?"

"He was your blood, Clint."

"Shhh." He kissed her temple. "I cut ties with him years ago after he tried to kill me. Do you hear me, Mikayla? He tried to kill me. Blood doesn't mean a thing to me. You're my family now. You and this team, that's who I've chosen to be my family, and I will defend every one of you until my last breath. Barney didn't deserve or earn that right. He lost that when he turned on me and tried to end my life. I made a mistake by not ending his when I had the chance. If I had, then you wouldn't have had to. So, if anyone needs to ask for forgiveness, it's me. I'm sorry I didn't take him out years ago." The couple sat quietly, Mikayla leaning into Clint as he stroked her hair. "How about we agree to forgive each other, okay?"

Mikayla nodded. "Okay." She sniffed. "Still doesn't take away the fact I took a life."

"No, unfortunately, it doesn't. Like I've said, we'll get you any help you need to work through that. Whenever you start struggling, promise you'll talk to me, okay?"

"I will."

"You don't have to go through this alone."

Mikayla nodded and yawned. "Enough confessions for one night." She untangled herself from Clint's hold and stood up. Clint got the hint and followed. Mikayla shuffled over, turned off the light, then shuffled back and crawled underneath the covers, curling herself against Clint. Before settling in, she kissed him. "Goodnight, Clint."

"Goodnight, Mikayla. Friday, please turn on a soft jazz station."

"Of course, Agent Barton. Pleasant dreams to the two of you." Clint shook his head, never dreaming he'd be conversing with an A.I.

Clint was awakened later by a slight movement of the mattress. He felt Mikayla sliding out from underneath his arm before he saw her. He watched her get up and trudge to the living room, then turn on the TV. He stayed in bed, not wanting to be seen as hovering, assuming she wanted some time to herself. He could hear the channels changing, finally landing on a documentary. Rather than trying to go back to sleep, he remained awake, keeping watch over her, ready to be there for her at a moment's notice. As he concentrated, he could hear her talking to herself.

"Am I even going to stop having nightmares? When will my life stop invading my sleep?" Mikayla caused herself to focus on the voices emanating from the television rather than the voices rattling around in her brain. After watching TV for about thirty minutes, she picked up her tablet, started reading, then changed to her laptop and began typing. Clint could hear her fingers flying over the keyboard. About an hour later, Mikayla turned off the TV and returned to bed. When she curled up next to Clint, he placed his arm over her hip bone. "Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't, babe. It's okay. Having trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah. Trying to keep my mind occupied. I keep hoping I'll keep it busy enough to wear it down, so it'll shut off when I go to bed and try to sleep."

"Want to talk about it?"

Mikayla scoffed. "I can't believe you're not tired of hearing me talk."

"I went too long without hearing your voice. I will never get tired of listening to you." Clint stroked her face. "What was the nightmare this time?"

She sat up, drew her knees to her chin, then wrapped her arms around her legs. "Waiting for the other shoe to drop for the next torture. There was always something around the corner. It might've been physical, verbal, or emotional, but it was torture."

Clint didn't want to ask but knew it would help her get it out of her system. "How?"

"He'd leave me alone for long periods of time in the dark, usually after beating me, then telling me I was so ugly there's no way you would take me back, so he might as well dump me somewhere. He'd send some of his cronies in to literally kick me while I was down. How I ended up without broken ribs is beyond me. Clint, he blamed everything on your dad, couldn't see he'd had plenty of opportunities along the way to go down a different path." Mikayla began running her hands up and down her arms. "Most of the time, I didn't believe him. I'd tune him out and think about you, and how much you loved me, about times we'd spent together, about this family of mine, but then the night and the utter darkness would come." She turned her head and looked at Clint. "I used to love nighttime. It was so peaceful and quiet. Now I feel like moving somewhere the sun never sets. If it's always light outside, then I won't have to sleep. I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. I think seeing the farm today took something out of me." She started sobbing. "Is there anything that won't trigger me? Am I ever going to be normal again? I'm tired of having to rely on Bruce's concoction to sleep. I don't want to become an addict."

Clint didn't know how to respond, so he just held Mikayla as she sobbed, hoping she would cry herself to sleep. "Agent Barton?" Friday said. "Director Fury is on the phone."

He sighed, wondering how Fury always had the lousiest timing. "Barton."

"Fitzgerald there?"

"I'm here."

"You can sit this mission out. No technical assistance needed." 'Damn, I was hoping I'd have a nice diversion.' "Don't worry. I'll come up with something for you. Barton, I need you and Romanoff in Galveston. We've had reports of someone planning to attack the oil companies, possibly the storage facilities as well. Gather all the intel you can and report back. I don't want to send the rest of the team until we have more evidence. I've emailed you your assignments. Quinjet leave in six hours."

"Yes, sir." Fury hung up before hearing Clint's reply. "Duty calls."

Mikayla nodded. "I knew it was too good to be true, but I knew it would happen." She smiled. "I'll be okay." She patted his knee. "I'll have Pepper treat my back."

Clint interpreted that as Mikayla trusted Pepper and didn't want another male to see her back. "OK. The rest of the team will be here to help you walk if you need it or if you just need to talk."

Mikayla stood up and padded over to grab a robe. "I'll go get the coffee started. It'll give me a chance to use my legs."

Clint lightly took her arm as she passed by. "Wait. Let's get you bathed, and then I'll get ready." Mikayla waited until he stood up, then they went to his room, and once the bath was completed, Clint got dressed, and the couple headed downstairs. Arriving at the kitchen, they found Natasha leaning on the island, having already brewed a pot of coffee. "Morning, Nat."

"Morning, guys." She slid a folder toward Clint. "Already printed it off."

Clint grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee. As he did, Mikayla leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll give you two time to go over the mission. I'll be waiting."

"If you fall, I'll catch you." Clint put an arm around her waist and kissed her. Mikayla patted Natasha on the shoulder as she went back upstairs.

"Not sleeping?"

"Nope. Barney's still haunting her." Clint took his mug and joined Natasha at the island. "It's now hitting her she killed someone, so she's having to learn how to deal with that, along with everything else she's going through."

"We'll help her, Clint. She'll make it."

"I know." Clint gulped down his coffee and poured himself another cup. "I hate that she has to, though." He leaned on the island and opened the folder. "She's got the team here, so she'll be in good hands. Now, let's see what covers Fury has us using now." He scanned the dossier. "Okay, I'm going in as an executive whose oil company recently relocated, and you're a staff accountant." They spent the next couple of hours going over their backstories. Once they'd poured over the files and had memorized each of them to the smallest detail, they grabbed their bags and left in the Quinjet.

Upon their arrival, they drove their assigned car to the hotel Fury arranged for them to stay at during the mission. Arriving at their adjoining rooms and completing their usual security scans for any listening or monitoring devices, they unpacked and turned into their undercover personas. Clint was dressed in a tailored three-piece suit, while Natasha was in a long skirt and short-sleeved blouse. "I'm so glad they finally took my advice and realized not every female in the workforce wears short skirts. I can definitely hide more weapons under this skirt."

Clint smiled. "You never seemed to have a problem carrying an arsenal on you under your little black dresses. I never could figure out where you kept them all."

"And you never will," she smirked.

"Speaking of advances," Clint held up his briefcase, "secret compartments to hide a collapsible bow and arrows."

"But will it break your fall when you go flying through a window?"

"You're a real comedienne, Brenda."

"Thanks, Josh."

He glanced at his watch. "Time to go to the office." Natasha nodded, and the two got back in the car and drove to the rented office space. Once in the office, "Josh" started calling the different oil companies to begin networking. Meanwhile, "Brenda" busied herself with setting up the fake accounts of the Rockwell Oil Company.

At the end of the workday, they returned to their hotel. "Find out anything?" Clint asked, stripping off his tie and hanging it up.

"That there is a hell of a lot of oil companies here. Going through all their books is going to take too long. I'm bringing in Fitzgerald, having her help me search, see if she can find out anything."

Clint smiled. "That'll make her happy and should help her frame of mind, giving her something to do."

"Fury okayed it, so I thought I'd let you have the honors." Natasha turned the laptop toward Clint. "Take it away, Hawkeye. I'm going to change clothes." She left and went through the adjoining door to her room.

Clint pulled up the app and called Mikayla. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Hey, handsome. How's Texas?"

"It's not New York. How did your day go?"

"Peaceful. Tony locked his lab and won't let anyone in, not even Bruce, so he took Thor and Steve to see some car chase movie. I've been talking with Bucky."

"When did he get back?"

"Right after you two left. He's such a sweet guy."

Clint clenched his jaw. "Do I need to be worried about anything? If so, I'll be back there in a heartbeat."

Mikayla chuckled. "First off, you are not aborting a mission because of jealousy. Secondly, you're adorable when you're jealous. Thirdly, no." She raised her left hand and wiggled her finger. "I'm engaged to the hottest, sweetest man on any planet."

"But you've said you like bad boys."

"Clint," Mikayla said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes, "I am a one-woman man, and that man is you. I am hopelessly, hilariously in love with you, and that will never change, no matter how many breakdowns I have."

"Wait? Did you have a breakdown?" A concerned look suddenly crossed his face.

"Nope. It's been a bright, sunny day. I actually went and sat up on the roof by the pool."

"That's a big step. I'm proud of you."

"I figured the most noticeable scar would be from my ankle. Plus, who could see me sitting on a rooftop?"

"Yeah, but you're getting out of your comfort zone."

"I just focused on something I like doing. You know, something to take me to my happy place, as the saying goes."

"What did you think about?" Clint's voice dropped an octave.

Mikayla smirked.

"There you go," Clint smiled, knowing exactly what she was talking about. "Did it work?"

"Of course. Now, I'm sure you're not just calling to check on me because Natasha would not allow that – "

"Damn right, I wouldn't, Fitzgerald," Natasha said as she sauntered back into the room, having changed into a sweatshirt and jeans. She pulled out a chair and plopped down in it. "Well? Did you ask her?"

"No, he didn't ask me to have video sex, Nat." Mikayla chuckled. When she looked back at the computer screen, Clint's look had turned serious. "What do you need from me?"

"Agent Fitzgerald," Clint said, "we're going to be sending you a list of the oil companies. We need you to break through their security protocols and see what you can find. Look for anything out of the ordinary. Agent Romanoff will be scouring their financial records. You'll be combing through other sources. Just like the last mission, if you see anything that raises a red flag, or doesn't look right, let Romanoff or I know."

"Understood, Agent Barton. If you send me the list, I'll get started now."

Clint leaned back, and his demeanor changed again. He became more relaxed. "Not yet, babe. You've got a salon appointment, remember?"

"Thanks for being my social secretary. The stylist should be here within the hour. I'll be sure to send pictures."

"You better, though I'm sure I'll love whatever it will look like." Clint pushed enter. "List is sent."

Mikayla's computer pinged. "Got it. I'll let you know what I find. Agent Fitzgerald out." She disconnected the call, wanting to begin searching the companies immediately. She opened the file Clint sent and began perusing the different companies. "Okay, if I were a criminal mastermind, and I wanted to disrupt the oil companies, how would I do it through a computer network? Easy, I'd purchase as many of them as possible so the networks could be consolidated, then target the larger ones. So, I'll search through the smaller ones, see who owns them, see if they've recently changed hands." Her fingers flew, trying to keep up with her brain. About an hour later, Friday announced, "Agent Fitzgerald, the stylist is here and waiting for you along with Miss Potts up in the penthouse suite."

"Thanks, Friday. Tell them I'll be right there."

"Of course." Mikayla locked the laptop and closed it, grabbed her braces, and went to wait on the elevator to take her up to the penthouse.

Clint and Natasha ordered room service and went over their findings. Clint shared the contacts he'd made. "I've got a business dinner set up tomorrow night with some executives who seem to be on the wrong side of legal. I'll send any info I get to Mikayla after the meeting. What about you?"

Natasha took a bite of her Kung Pao chicken. "A few of the companies have some interesting bookkeeping habits, so I'm digging into those."

"Names?"

"Watson Oil, Renfro Oil, and Johnson Keenan Oil Company are at the top of the list. I'm noticing some discrepancies with some of their accounts like they're padding their books."

"I'll add those to the list." Clint finished off his pho, then stood and stretched. "Well, not much more we can do this evening."

"I'll leave you lovebirds alone so you can have your 'video' session."

"Tell Steve I said hi." There was a slight hitch in Natasha's step as she returned to her room." Clint grinned and stretched out on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, resisting the urge to contact Mikayla. He knew he needed to stay focused on the mission, so he would only contact her when he had information to get to her or check in with her progress. Since he and Nat had just spoken to her earlier in the evening, he decided not to contact her since they didn't have any concrete details to pass along. Clint spent some time trying to imagine what Mikayla was going to look like after the stylist. Hell, he didn't care if she were bald; she'd still be the most beautiful woman he'd ever met and knew how damn lucky he was to be able to spend the rest of his life with her. Eventually, after going over the plans for the next day, he drifted off to sleep with thoughts of Mikayla flowing through his brain.

Back at the tower, Pepper was almost in tears. "Mikayla, I am so sorry. How's your forehead?"

"Clint's going to be so mad at me."

"Why?"

"Pepper, I couldn't make it through getting my hair done. How am I supposed to focus on gathering information for a mission? I'm a damn failure."

Pepper held Mikayla. "No, no, Mikayla, you're not a failure. This is on me. I forgot to tell the stylist about your aversion to water coming from overhead. Do you hear me? This is my fault. Mikayla, look at me." Mikayla lifted her head. "You are so strong. It takes a special kind of strength to go through everything you've been through and come out the other side. We are all so proud of you."

Mikayla sobbed. "I hope I can be proud of myself someday."

"You will. Now, let's look at your hair." Pepper held Mikayla away from her. "I love it." It was a pixie style haircut, parted on the left in a zigzag pattern, bangs sweeping across part of her forehead, thankfully covering up the bruise forming from her hitting her head against the wall in frustration after the stylist attempted to wet her hair using a sprayer. Her hair was shorter in the back, just above her neckline and below her ear, but still had fullness on the top. "The style is so you, Mikayla. You're such a sassy woman who deserves a sassy hairstyle." Pepper smiled. "Clint's going to love it."

The statement brought a smile to Mikayla's face. "You think so?" She sniffed. "Then it'll be okay." To Mikayla, Clint's smile made everything okay. "Thanks, Pepper. Hopefully, this will help me start to feel more like me."

"Anything I can do to help." Pepper smiled.

"Please make sure Julia gets an extra-large tip for having to put up with me." Mikayla rubbed her forehead.

Pepper patted Mikayla's shoulder. "Don't worry. It's taken care of. Now, let's grab a bite to eat. I'm sure we can find something in the fridge." After searching, they found some salmon fillets and asparagus. Once the food was warmed up, the two women sat down and ate. Pepper wanted to keep to safe topics, so they mainly talked about work.

After Mikayla finished, she put her dirty dishes away. "Thanks again, Pepper. I think I'm going to try to get some work done before settling in for the night." She hugged Pepper. "I do like the hairstyle, even if I am still getting used to not having my long hair."

"Anytime, Mikayla." Pepper walked Mikayla to the door, then went back to work herself.

Upon arrival back at her room, Mikayla sat down at her desk and fired up her laptop again. "Now, back to searching oil companies." For the next several hours, Mikayla searched the internet and the various companies' systems, only taking a few breaks to stare out the vast window, avoiding eye strain. Before she knew it, it was daylight, and the city woke up, becoming even more alive. "Guess I should go get some breakfast." Not feeling very daring, she picked up her braces and went to the kitchen. She took them off and leaned them against the island, making it easier for her to fix something for breakfast. "Hmm, what sounds good? Toast and cereal, simple but filling." As she put the bread in the toaster, she grabbed a banana and poured herself a cup of coffee. Opening the refrigerator door, she pulled out the creamer and the milk. She put the mug under the coffee dispenser, and while her large mug was filling, she poured cereal into a bowl then topped it with milk. As soon as the coffee filled the cup, Mikayla grabbed it and immediately downed it. "Aww, coffee." Once the toast popped up, she put it on a saucer, spread butter and grape jam over the slices, then set the saucer on the island next to the bowl. After refilling her coffee mug, she sat down on a barstool and began eating.

"Morning, Mikayla," Steve greeted her as he walked into the kitchen. "Hey, I like the new style."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks." Mikayla ran her hands through it, still getting used to it herself.

"Any plans for today?" Steve grabbed a bowl to fix himself some cereal.

"Helping Clint and Nat with their mission."

Steve nodded. "Always good to have a task." He placed a hand on her arm. "Remember to take breaks, though. Okay?"

Mikayla nodded. "I will." She got up to put her dishes away.

"Don't worry about them. I'll take care of them for you."

"Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it. Have a good one."

"Happy searching."

Mikayla went back up to her room and sat down at the computer. After several hours, she reviewed the data she'd compiled. "OK, what do these have in common?" She dug deep into the internet and found what she was looking for. "I'll get this typed up and sent to Clint and Nat." She composed an email, attached the files, and hit enter. Mikayla felt herself starting to fade, even after the copious amounts of coffee. "Okay, I'll lay down and take a quick nap. Making her way to the couch, she draped the blanket over her and was asleep within five minutes.

Clint drove them back to the hotel, where she went up to her room, and he went to the bar. He'd arranged to meet the other executives there, making it easier for Natasha to have his back in case things went haywire. "Always good to have backup," he said to himself.

"Damn right, Barton." Natasha was harassing him through his comm.

"It's Blevins this time, Brenda." He sat at the bar, swirling a rum and coke while sitting at the bar. "Don't worry. I remembered the drug." He lifted the tumbler to his mouth. Why SHIELD never thought about a drug that could take the alcohol out of a drink was beyond him. To him, it made a lot more sense than either acting like he was drinking it or pouring the liquid into a potted plant when no one was looking.

"Got an email from Fitzgerald. Guess which companies she found hinky stuff about?"

"Watson Oil, Renfro Oil, and Johnson Keenan Oil? Damn, this mission is pretty much solving itself."

"On your left, Blevins."

Clint turned and, looking over his shoulder, saw the executives from the three companies in question approaching him. He downed the rest of his drink. "Gentlemen, glad to meet y'all in person."

Natasha snickered. She knew he would pull the aw-shucks Midwestern attitude out, but it still always struck her as humorous. It was so against his SHIELD persona he always put forth, yet he could switch into it as easily as she did her various identities. He was always telling her how much he admired watching her work. She was glad to get the opportunity to watch him work his magic on the three oilmen. He plied his trade well and had them under his spell in no time. She watched as he told grandiose stories about how his family got into the oil business and had decided to move their headquarters to Galveston. He shared with them he'd done his research and chose to reach out to them, as they seemed to be the most in the know of how things went around the city and had the right connections. After several hours of schmoozing them, he stood up. "Gents, it's been a hell of a night, and I'm glad y'all got to meet me." This cracked them up. Natasha shook her head and made her way back to her hotel room. "We'll have to do this again real soon, pardners." "Josh" shook their hands and watched them exit the bar. Once they left the hotel, Clint took the elevator up to his hotel room.

"Did you really call them pardners?"

"Damn skippy, I did." Clint smiled a toothy grin.

"Okay, you can stop the act now. It still throws me when I hear you talk country. I always feel the need to grab you a toothpick and a cowboy hat."

"Mikayla adores me in cowboy hats." He came out of the bedroom, having changed into jeans and a dark purple Prince t-shirt.

"There's no accounting for some people's tastes. I'll work on that with her."

"You're just jealous that I look better wearing a cowboy hat than Cap."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "I'm not dignifying that with a response."

Clint grinned. "You don't have to. I know you, Nat. Don't worry, I told you once your secret's safe with me, and it still is. I'm happy for you." His phone buzzed. He pulled it out, blinked several times, and leaped across the room to grab the laptop.

"Fitzgerald have news?"

"Shush." He frantically fired it up and started typing. "Holy hell, Mikayla. I freakin love the new haircut."

"Thanks, Clint. I was worried, but you put quickly put the kibosh on that."

"Here, let me see." Natasha got up and stood behind Clint, looking over his shoulder. "Good style. It's you."

Mikayla started blushing. "Enough of this. Did you get the email I sent?"

"We did," Natasha answered. "Clint hasn't had a chance to read it yet. He just came back from schmoozing the marks."

"Did you have to use your manly wiles on them?"

"First, men do not have manly wiles, and second, no. I was just my charming self."

"Let me interpret. He got to play Cowboy Clint without a cowboy hat."

"Damn, and I missed it."

"I'll make it up to you."

"Holding you to it, RH."

"You got it, Sharky."

"Can we get back on target, guys?" Natasha interjected.

"Hey, arrow jokes are my schtick." Clint smiled, then turned serious. "Fill me in?" Mikayla went over what she'd found. "So, they're all from the same family and are looking to take over the other oil companies, causing a monopoly to raise oil prices?"

"Exactly," Mikayla said, "but I've found more details since I sent the email. They have a backup plan. If they can't buy up the other companies, they're going to hijack a cruise ship, plant explosives on it, and blow up the harbor." She shivered. "Amazing what you can find on the dark web."

"Timeline?" Clint asked.

"One month."

"We'll get the info to Fury. See what he wants us to do," Natasha said. "Another good job, Fitzgerald."

"Thanks, Romanoff."

Clint lifted his head to look up at Natasha. "I get it. I'm going. I'm going. Good to see you, Mikayla. I really do like the haircut." Natasha walked off and went through the adjoining door and into her room.

"Now," Clint said, picking up the laptop and making his way over to the bed so he could stretch out. "How was your day?"

"Quiet. Spent most of it working on the case."

"Did you get any sleep?"

Mikayla nodded her head. "Earlier today. I still can't sleep at night, so I figure I'll work through the night and sleep in the day."

"Babe, please talk to Doc. I'm sure the medicine is not addicting."

She sighed. "I'll consider it."

"Please do, for me? I can see the dark circles under your eyes. Wait a minute. What is that?"

"What is what?"

"On your forehead. I saw something when you brushed your bangs aside." Mikayla bit her lip. "Babe, tell me. What happened?"

Mikayla's shoulders sagged. "It's a bruise. See?" She lifted her bangs so Clint could see it better.

"Mikayla, how did it happen?"

"I, uh, freaked out when the stylist tried to wet my hair with a sprayer."

Clint could only imagine what that did to her psyche. "Oh, no, babe. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I should've had Pepper postpone it until I got back."

Mikayla shook her head. "You can't always be here, Clint. I need to learn how to handle it myself. Let me rephrase that, how to handle it without injuring myself. I flew up from the chair, hobbled over to the wall, and banged my head." She sniffed. "Pepper felt so bad because she forgot to tell the stylist."

"How is it now?"

"I took some aspirin, so it's better."

"Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Pretend I'm there, holding you, rubbing your temples." Mikayla leaned back. "Hey, you can lean back. That's an improvement."

"Yeah, it is." She smiled. "Now back to you talking."

OK, I'm rubbing your temples, telling you how strong you are, that's it's all going to be okay. It may not be tonight, it may not be tomorrow, but it will be. You know why?" She shook her head. "Because you're my kick-ass fiancée, and don't you ever forget it?" She nodded. Clint kept talking to her until her eyes closed, and she began snoring. "That's my woman." He was sitting against the headboard until Natasha brought in dinner. "Shhh, she's sleeping."

Natasha nodded and backed out of the room, sitting down at the table in the living room. She looked up when she heard Clint coming into the room. "She out?"

He nodded. "I muted it, so we don't wake her," Clint told Natasha what happened. "She looks exhausted, Tash. Hell, if I have to, I'll send her a recording if it'll help her sleep."

"I always said you could put people to sleep. It'd be an effective torture device." Natasha smirked before taking a bite of her sub sandwich.

"She likes my voice," Clint ate some chips.

"I guess it could be considered soothing."

"Mikayla thinks so, and that's the only person's opinion I care about." Clint picked up his dagwood sub and ate some of it. "Did you email Fury with the update?"

"Yeah. He wants us here for a least another two weeks. See what we can find out about the three companies in question." She drank some water. "How do you feel about boats?"

"Why? Do we have to use one to escape? I'm sure my driving skills are a little rusty, but I can manage."

"Nope, think larger."

"Fury wants us on the cruise ship, doesn't he? Keeping the same covers?"

"Not us. You and Fitzgerald. Strictly recon, but he figured the two of you could pull off the lovebirds cover naturally. You know, all that sappiness." She smiled. "He'll have more details once we get a firm date if they decide to go that route."

"Well, that should kick her recovery into high gear."

"You know, if he didn't think she could handle it, he wouldn't recommend it."

"I know." He looked over at the computer and saw Mikayla still soundly sleeping, so he picked up his phone. "Steve? Yeah, we're fine. Can you keep an eye on Mikayla? She fell asleep while I was talking to her. Thanks, man." He ended the call. "Didn't want anyone barging in on her and waking her up."

"Always the planner."

"It's part of my charm." He finished his sandwich and wadded up the wrapping, tossing it into the wastebasket, then stood up. "I'm off to take a shower. Night, Nat."

Natasha stood up. "Night, Clint. Keep me posted on Mikayla." Natasha went back to her room.

"Will do." Clint retreated to his bathroom to take a shower.