VERY IMPORTANT NOTE! PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING!

This chapter is rated M and I understand some people may not want to read the M part. So, I WILL BOLD the steamy part and set it off with line breaks so you can easily skip over it if you so desire.

Enjoy ;)

SHIELD HEADQUARTERS, NEW YORK CITY

Going off-grid sucked. Kat never realized how much her life revolved around technology until forced to do without it. Or, more accurately, how much her life revolved around her job, which as a data analyst, was consumed by technology.

"I already regret doing things his way," she complained, spinning in her wheely chair in the empty conference room. Coulson told them to wait there for further instructions.

"It hasn't even been two hours," Clint pointed out.

"That's how I know I'm addicted. I'm going through tech-withdrawal. I haven't hacked anything or even touched a keyboard and it's making me antsy."

"You need something to take your mind off it," he said, placing his hands on either armrest and halting her spinning. A shiver went down her spine as he leaned closer, her gaze darting to his lips, which flipped up into a smile as he pushed her to the other side of the room. "I challenge you to a race around the room. Three laps and you can only use your legs to propel you."

Grabbing a nearby chair he plunked himself down beside her.

"You're so on." She smiled. "Let's hope you're better at racing chairs than cars."

They were on their second lap when Coulson returned to find them speeding past the conference room door. Clint was pulling ahead, thanks to his longer legs, and she flung her hand out in a desperate attempt to slow him down.

"Sabotage!" he cried out when his chair spun out and knocked into the table.

"Sometimes I can't believe you're two of our best agents," Coulson said dryly. He was seriously considering adding super-nanny to his job description as supervising Barton, and now, temporarily, Lee, was akin to babysitting unruly children.

"Please say you're here to tell us you took care of Slater and I can have internet access again. I'd love my laptop, but I'd settle for my phone."

"The agents we deployed to the auction house reported it empty."

"Did they check the secret bunker?" Clint asked.

"They've cleared the entire structure. We're working on relocating him."

"I can do that. Give me my laptop and two hours."

"No," Coulson said.

"Okay, my phone and four hours," she countered.

"You're still off-grid," Coulson said, sending them both an exasperated look. "Until we take care of Slater no internet, no phones, and no coms."

"C'mon Coulson. My coms are my hearing aids. You're really going to take my ears from me?"

"No. I'm just replacing them with an older model," he said, holding out his hand palm up. Less conspicuous hearing aids sat in the middle of his palm. The over the ear battery part was black, and the part that went in his ears was purple.

"Love the colors, hate the technology step-down." Removing his hearing aids, he traded them for the black and purple ones, fitting them in his ears.

"Are we confined to the conference room until you catch him?" she asked. Depending on who they had working the case, that could take days, weeks even.

"No. You're going off compound."

"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you with these new hearing aids," Clint said, adjusting the volume on them. "Did you say, we're not staying at headquarters?"

"The building is crawling with tech and cameras, and though we pride ourselves in our cyber security, there's still a chance Slater's hacker could break through. If phase two is going to work, we can't have him finding you here."

"What's phase two?" she asked.

"We employ decoys," Coulson said holding up her phone and his hearing aids. He was going to have agents carry the tech they never go anywhere without and let Slater's hacker lead him to them.

"And where are you stashing us during phase two?" Kat asked. All of SHIELD's safe houses had hi-tech security as well. Effective against all threats except hackers.

"Barton should have that covered," Coulson said, looking to Clint. "Don't tell anyone where you're going. And take one of the '67 models. The unmodified ones. Cars with computers aren't safe right now."

"Can I take my old bow?" He didn't like the idea of going without a bow, and his old one didn't have any modifications to it.

"No modified arrows," he relented.

"Can I raid the undercover closet?" Kat asked. Coulson gave her a look that clearly said she was pushing it. "Slater's assassins blew up my suitcase. So, this is all I've got."

She tugged at her tee. Who knew how long they'd be off-grid; she'd need more than what she was wearing to survive.

"Remember subtlety is key. You need to blend in," Coulson gave in, handing her the key card to the closet.

…

"So, say they theoretically catch Slater while we're off-grid," Kat said as she picked through the racks of clothes. "How are we supposed to know it's safe to come out of hiding when no one knows where we are and has no way to contact us?"

"We'll have access to a radio. Protocol has SHIELD sending a code word through on a select AM station when it's safe to reemerge."

She pulled a few neutral colored shirts from the rack, including several with bullet-proof technology on the off-chance this whole 'going off-grid' thing didn't pan out.

"And how are we supposed to spend this undetermined length of torture?" She was accustomed to multitasking on the daily. Going from doing three things at once to nothing was going to be hard. Especially doing nothing in the middle of nowhere with no technology to entertain herself whatsoever.

"I can make good on my promise to give you a private marksmanship lesson," he said, watching her pick through the shoe rack until she found a pair of black boots in her size.

"In that case, we should hit up the weapons vault after this." She'd need a gun if she was going to learn how to shoot.

"And the kitchen. In case we can't make a grocery run for a while."

"I suppose non-perishables would be more responsible, but I'm really feeling steak." And beer, but she doubted Coulson would let them take alcohol when they were technically working. Or at least, leasing work equipment.

"Being responsible is overrated," he said, holding open a duffel bag for the clothes she'd scavenged.

Bags packed with clothes, food, and weaponry, Clint tossed them into the trunk of a classic black Camaro, tossing the keys to Kat. Sliding on sunglasses over her glasses, she pulled out of the underground garage three streets down from where she'd pulled in with Nat, and Clint unfolded the paper map of the tri-state area.

"This is exactly how I pictured going off-grid to be like," she said when he told her to take a right off the two lane back road they'd been driving on and onto a dirt road.

"Cruising on a dirt road in a classic car littered with junk food wrappers?" he asked, folding the map up with one hand, the other intwined with Kat's on the armrest between their seats.

"Going so far off the map that even if you had tech, it wouldn't have a signal." Glancing in the rearview she only saw the cloud of dust the tires kicked up. "I just never thought I'd experience it."

As a data analyst she wouldn't think she'd garner enough attention to require it. Field agents and operatives like Natasha and Clint were way more likely to acquire enemies than her. Until she became field approved and destroyed important tech in person rather than from behind a screen.

"Consider it the long overdue vacation SHIELD owes you." She had said she wanted to rent a cabin where SHIELD couldn't contact her to work on files.

"I wanted a vacation from work, not technology."

"Don't worry, I'm sure we can find a way to pass the time." He squeezed her hand and in combination with his suggestive comment, intentional or not, it had her pulse racing.

She slid her sunglasses on top of her head when the thick canopy of trees blocked out the sun. Clint's thumb drew lazy circles on the back of her hand, his callouses creating friction with the soft touch. It was more than a little distracting. God, it had really been a while if holding hands turned her on. Angie was right, she was sexually frustrated.

It was dusk when they finally pulled up in front of a cabin deep in the wilderness of upstate New York. They grabbed their bags from the trunk and Clint knelt on the front deck to pop out a loose floorboard and retrieve the key.

"There's so much wood," Kat said, stepping inside and taking in the rustic wood floors, walls, and ceilings.

It was small, but cozy. A kitchenette and living area with a stone fireplace made up half the cabin, with sliding barn doors cutting the room in half and leading back to what looked like the bedroom. She really hoped there was a bathroom back there and they wouldn't have to use some form of outhouse.

"Why don't you put the bags in the room. There's a small bathroom attached if you want to freshen up while I get dinner started."

"You sure you don't want me to help?" she asked.

"I've got it covered. I just need to know how you want your steak."

"Medium rare." Shouldering the bags, she headed back to the bedroom, closing the doors behind her.

Clint wasn't joking when he said the bathroom was small, but there was indoor plumbing, so she definitely wasn't complaining. Off-grid could have meant tents and the great wilderness for a bathroom. Turning the shower to hot, she stripped off her clothes, finally washing away all traces of her and Natasha's narrow escape that morning.

Taking care to completely dry her stitched up cut, she wrapped the towel around her and pilfered through the bag, pulling out a SHIELD tee and sweatpants. Her damp hair bled through the back of her tee as she padded barefoot across the wood floor. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched Clint manning the grill through the screen door. It all felt very domestic in the most delicious way possible.

"The steaks smell good," she said, making him glance over his shoulder at her.

"They're almost done," he said. "Feel better?"

"Yeah." Pushing open the screen door, she took a seat at the picnic table by the grill. "It's relaxing out here if I don't remind myself about all the horror films with isolated cabins."

"I pity the serial killer who stumbles across this cabin."

Her eyes flicked to his bow and quiver, leaning against the deck railing beside him, and the gun strapped to his leg. Even without his weapons, she knew he'd be able to handle any threat. Plating the steaks, he turned and caught her checking him out. He smiled when she bit her lip but didn't divert her gaze.

"See something you like?" He teased.

"Yes," she said, leaning closer to him. "The steak looks delicious."

He laughed, setting her plate down and joining her at the table.

"The cook looks just as appetizing," she added, taking a bite of her stake. It melted like butter in her mouth.

"I prefer the title of 'Grill Master,' actually," he said, sending her a playful smile.

"Shame, I don't think they make any 'kiss the Grill Master' aprons."

"So, if I consent to being called a cook or chef, I'll get a kiss?" He turned to face her, their knees brushing under the table.

"If you had the apron. And then only after dinner. This steak takes precedence."

"I don't know if that's a compliment on my culinary skills or a dis on my kissing abilities."

"I'd need a refresher for a fair comparison." Her gaze drifted to his lips.

Heeding the invite, his fork clinking to his plate, he leaned forward. He cupped the back of her neck with his left hand as he thoroughly kissed her, keeping it slow and taking his time. Her hands rested on his thighs when she leaned closer, returning the kiss with unbridled sensuality. They were slow to pull apart, their gazes connected as they pulled back.

"What's the verdict?" He asked.

"You're fantastic at both," she said, picking her fork back up and taking another bite. He smiled widely, squeezing her knee under the table with his right hand and leaving it there as he returned to his steak.

Kat volunteered to clean the dishes, giving Clint his turn in the shower. Cleaning up didn't take long, and the shower was still running in the bathroom when she entered the bedroom. Moving the bags from the bed to the floor, she grabbed toothpaste and her toothbrush and used the kitchen sink to brush her teeth. When she returned to the room, Clint was towel drying his hair. He was shirtless and his sweatpants rode low on his hips. Her gaze skated over his chest, abs, and down to the v lines disappearing into his pants. Sweet Jesus, he was fit.

"You're not wearing a shirt," she blurted out.

"I don't usually wear one to bed," he said, hanging the towel on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. "Don't wear pants either, but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"I personally always thought pants were overrated," she said, making his smile turn mischievous.

"Do you have a preference on a side?" he asked, nodding towards the bed as he closed the distance between them.

"Whichever one you're on." Stepping closer, she didn't hesitate when she leaned in for a kiss.

He wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. Running her hands over his muscular back, she tangled her hands in his disheveled hair as he led them back towards the bed. She smiled when his hands drifted to the hem of her shirt, briefly breaking their kiss so he could pull it over her head. As soon as it hit the floor, she pulled his lips back to hers. Her hands trailed over his shoulders and down his chest, his muscles twitching as she went. She tugged on his sweatpants, sliding them off his hips; he kicked them the rest of the way off.

Their tongues twisted together as he slipped his left hand inside her waistband. His calloused fingers had her gasping in pleasure as he kept pace with their kiss. When her breathing turned to pants, she broke their kiss, resting her chin on his shoulder, her grip on his back tightening as he brought her higher. Letting out a long moan when he sent her over the edge, Clint kissed the side of her cheek, waiting until she was finished before slipping his hand out from her pants.

"You have talented fingers," she breathed out, her breath teasing his right ear as she planted a light kiss on his jaw. He turned his head, brushing their noses together.

"I also have high endurance and perfect aim," he said, his eyes glinting.

"I'm going to have to test that myself." Kissing his smile, she reached down to slip off his boxers. He grunted against her lips when her fingers brushed against him.

"Kat," he breathed out. "I didn't exactly prepare for this. I didn't pack anything."

And damn was he cursing himself for bringing weapons but not condoms.

"I've got us covered," she said, stepping back and reaching for her purse. She had to admit Angie had been right. She owed her a thank you for not just packing the condoms, but for choosing to pack them in her purse instead of her suitcase.

"I see you planned on having your way with me many times this weekend," he said when she pulled a strip of condoms from her bag.

"With no threat of any interruptions, SHIELD or otherwise, I'm not sure I packed enough," she teased, pulling his lips back down to hers.

She let her hands explore again, and he started his own exploration. A shiver ran down her spine when his hands slid to her hips. Fumbling with the drawstring of her pants, his teeth accidentally grazed her lips during their kiss as he worked them off.

With her hands on his shoulders, she pressed down lightly until he sat on the edge of the bed, temporarily pulling back from their kiss. He watched as she used her teeth to open the condom wrapper, his pulse thudding hard. His eyes fluttered shut as she rolled it on, but flew open when she straddled his lap, hovering over him.

Ready for your world to be rocked? She signed slowly to him, spreading a huge smile across his face.

He kept his response short, signing yes before wrapping his arms around her and kissing her fiercely. She twisted her hips, much like their tongues, as she lowered onto him. They both groaned, relishing in their connection for a moment. It had been too long since either of them had been that physically close with someone. Clint let her ride him, her hands gripping his shoulders as she set the pace, his hands exploring her back before moving them to her hips and taking control.

"Ohhmmm," Kat moaned against his lips when he found her sweet spot and kept hitting it. God, he really did have perfect aim. Forced to break their kiss, she sputtered incomprehensibly as she came.

Clint watched as she came undone, unconsciously speeding up the louder she cried, his lips met hers in a soft kiss when she came down from her high. Her hair stuck to her cheeks and he reached up to push it away from her face, his thumb tracing a line down her jaw. Moving them together until she was lying beneath him, he started a new rhythm. His weight pushed her into the mattress, and his arms caged her in, his elbows pressing into the bed on either side of her head. When her hips raised up to meet his, he let out a shuttering breath, his arm muscles twitching.

"Clint," she murmured when he found her spot again. "Don't stop."

"Not an option," he panted. Speeding up, the bed thudded against the wall behind it and he leaned down to capture her lips in a frantic kiss. Wrapping her legs around him, she pulled him in deeper until she once again fell apart.

They moved together through different positions, Clint working her through several more orgasms before she was back on top of him and they came hard together. As the high evaporated, they collapsed in a sweaty heap together, their legs tangled and Kat sprawled out across his chest, both completely spent.

"And to think I ever worried we might not be physically compatible." She whispered, causing Clint to chuckle, his chest vibrating beneath her.

"Glad I didn't disappoint," Clint said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

SHIELD HEADQUARTERS, NEW YORK CITY

Natasha turned away from the wall of screens when her phone rang. It was Angie. Again. She hadn't wanted to answer her calls until she'd found Slater and brought Clint and Kat out of temporary hiding, but that was proving harder than anticipated.

"Hey, Angie," she answered, trying to keep the stress out of her voice.

"I haven't heard from Kat since yesterday. Please tell me it's because Clint and her are too busy getting hot and heavy and not because SHIELD cockblocked them by pulling them into another mission," Angie said, forgoing a hello when Natasha finally answered her phone.

She knew Kat wouldn't be glued to her phone this weekend, and she didn't want her to be, but she hadn't heard from her since she landed in JFK. As best friend she thought she'd at least get a text confirmation with lovey emojis confirming Clint and Kat had taken their relationship to the next level.

"As much as I'd love to confirm your theory, their last mission together has some…unresolved issues," Nat chose her answer carefully, not wanting to lie, but highly aware their phones could be tapped. Angie let out a frustrated groan.

"I swear, statistics have it wrong. IUDs aren't the best form of birth control, working for SHIELD is." She couldn't believe they highjacked Kat and Clint's alone time, again. At this rate, they were never going to consummate their relationship, and Angie would forever be left dealing with early morning runs because Kat had a scratch SHIELD won't let her and Barton itch.

"I'm just hoping they take time to talk about what they want out of this. Because the last thing they need is unconfirmed expectations." Natasha turned back to the computers when a ping sounded out for a possible match ID. Putting Angie on speaker, she took a seat and pulled the keyboard closer to her.

"Are you telling me Barton just wants something casual?" If he thought Kat was just a good time call she'd fly to New York and kick his ass herself.

"Is that what Lee wants?" Zooming in on the video feed in London, her shoulders fell when it was a false positive. They still had no idea where Slater was.

"I don't think so. I can tell she really likes him. More than any of the other guys she's been romantically involved with." Barton challenged her and brought out her playful side in a way that made it hard for Angie to believe either of them would get bored with the other.

"Then neither of us has anything to worry about and we won't have to kick each other's best friend's ass to protect said best friend's heart."

"Or their honor."

"Exactly," Nat said, distractedly. Swiping to a new screen, she checked on the coded trap she'd set for Slater's hacker. "I've got to go, but I'll tell Kat to call you when I see her next."

Hanging up, her fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up lines of code until she found a coded response to her trap. Nice try. Your code doesn't have Katherine's flair.

"Damn it," she muttered.

Every hacker and coder had a different style, but she thought she'd mimicked Kat's well enough to fool an unfamiliar target. How could Slater's hacker already know the nuances of Kat's style of code so well? He was either a genius, or a creepy fanboy stalker. Or both. Which meant he'd probably worked for, and been terminated from, one of the world's intelligence agencies. If they couldn't find Slater, maybe they could find his cyber stalker.

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm so excited for this update, and I really hope you all enjoyed it. I became inspired this weekend and finally finished this chapter. I've also made a few videos of Kat and Clint, including a trailer for this story. I'll be posting them in no particular order to my Instagram account dedicated to my fanfiction, so check it out if you're interested. My username is the same as here, gracelesslyfalling. Hope all my American readers had a happy fourth of July and that all my readers are saying safe and healthy. I can't wait to hear what you think!

Onto Guest review responses:

To the guest who absolutely loves Kat and her interactions with Clint: thank you! I love writing them and their quick-witted back-and-forth. It's one of my favorite parts about writing this story.

To the guest who said this is such a great story and asked me to update: here you go! Hope you enjoyed it.

To the guest who just found my story recently and is loving it: Hello, welcome! I'm glad you found it and are enjoying it. I'm writing it by the seat of my pants (no real preplanned plotting) so I hope it doesn't turn into a clusterfuck!

Rach

xoxo