Quick warning on this chapter: Blink and you miss it underage sexual abuse. I hate even bringing it up, and Clint has not actually been abused like that in my world, but he is aware of it so it will be mentioned. That being said, this chapter is more fun and brings out young Clint's personality more. So I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 2- Proper Introductions

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Inside the room, Logan wasn't surprised to find Clint crouching by the window. The boy stood up as the mutant walked in and he looked contemplative. Logan waited for him to make up his mind on what he wanted to ask first.

Clint swallowed compulsively. "So who were those guys?" he asked nervously. "They look like secret agents from a bad movie."

"They are, kind of," the Canadian answered. He moved to the mini fridge by the sink. It wasn't very big and barely worked but it was enough for his beers. After opening and considering the row of cans, he reconsidered. He needed something for Clint to drink to, and probably eat. Boys his age were always hungry, right? "Secret agents, I mean, not a bad movie," Logan continued, closing the fridge without taking anything. "You hungry? How do you feel about pizza? It's the only place around here that delivers and we should keep out of sight until those spooks move on."

Clint nodded; swallowing again like his mouth was dry.

"Fine," Logan said, moving to the phone next to the bed. Clint's eyes followed him, unblinkingly. "Got a preference?" When Clint shook his head, Logan shrugged and dialed. It only took a minute to order one large pepperoni and a large special. The kid could pick off what he didn't want. He also ordered bread sticks and a couple liters of soda. He had ordered from the little mom and pop shop before so they had no trouble with him paying cash on delivery. It was better not to leave a paper trail. He'd talk to the kid about that later, but some life lessons could wait.

"Alright," Logan said as he hung up the phone. "The pizza will be here soon. In the meantime, we should talk."

Clint shrugged, his shoulders reaching his ears. "What do ya want to talk about?" he asked in a quiet, defensive voice.

"For one thing, why would SHIELD be interested in you? It doesn't add up," Logan said. He kicked off his boots and swung his legs up on the bed. Clint hadn't moved from his spot on the window and Logan needed him to relax before Logan lost his calm.

Once Logan was lounging and presented no obvious threat, Clint did relax a little bit. He moved over to the only chair in the room, which was on the far end from the bed, and sat down gingerly, pulling his feet up under him so it looked like he was perched on the edge. "I have no idea," he admitted. "What would they want with a carnie hick from Iowa?"

"Don't know," Logan agreed.

"Who are you anyway?" Clint asked. "You told them to leave, and they did."

Logan snorted. "I'm the best at what I do, bub. It gives me a certain amount of pull." He considered leaving it at that, but decided to be straight with the kid. "What I do isn't very nice, so I've got a bit of a rep to. They knew better than to push me."

Clint shook his head. "Then why the hell are you bothering with me? Surely a big shot like you has better things to do," Clint said angrily.

Most people would hear the anger and see the bravado and assume that Clint was just a bratty kid. Logan, however was not most people. He could smell the fear on the kid and read the insecurities in the question. He reflected on how to deal with this. Obviously, Clint was a lot more insecure than he appeared. Perhaps it was better not to address those issues quite yet; he'd wait for the boy to become more comfortable with him. Still he needed to answer the question. "Why not?" he said after a minute. "You seem like a good kid and you don't deserve to be pulled into the shit-storm without someone going to bat for you."

"Seriously?" Clint yelped. Logan was reminded of a puppy barking at a bigger dog. "That's the best you got? No one is that simple, Mr. Logan. What do you want from me? I ain't going to put out to a hairy old man like you. And I don't have any money either."

Now wasn't that a kettle of worms that Logan didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. He'd end up hunting some bastards and making them sing soprano. "Look here, bub," he growled, sitting up and glaring at the youngster. "I have never and will never touch a kid like that. And I don't swing that way, anyhow. Your virtue is safe with me." Clint narrowed his eyes, obviously not trusting him. Logan threw his arms in the air in frustration. "You want to know the whole truth? Fine, the truth is I can't stand back while someone is in trouble. I've tried but it's only brought me more trouble. So, I see a kid who needs help and I see that SHIELD is involved and I can't just ignore it. You're my responsibility now whether you like it or not."

Clint crossed his arms and slouched in the chair, teenage rebellion written all over his face. "Fine," he snapped. "I'll just wait for you to get bored than I can deal with it my way."

Logan groaned and wiped a hand over his face. He was staring to sympathize with Chuck. The bald man would laugh if he could see Logan now. Luckily, he was saved from making a response by a knock on the door.

Clint perked up, expecting food, but Logan waved him back. "Too early for pizza," the older man said quietly, slinking to the door. "Wait over there." He waved to the back corner of the room.

The feral mutant relaxed as he got close to the door. A wave of manure, hay, popcorn and perfume told his nose who was at the door before he opened it. He smiled as he revealed the pretty trapeze girl from the show. "Hi," she said cheerfully. "I've got Clint's stuff in the truck. Can you help me carry it?"

"Right behind you, darlin'," Logan said. He turned to Clint who was coming around the bed. "You stay out of sight for now. We'll be right back." Logan ushered the girl out and closed the door as he heard Clint moan "Aw, Missy, no."

The girl led the way to a beat up old Chevy. The bed was packed fun of circus gear but the cab was clear except for Clint's belongings. It was also pretty clean, which Logan appreciated. One of the reasons he preferred his bike was it couldn't get cluttered like some people's cars. The girl, who introduced herself as Missy, directed Logan to carry the two canvas bags that were stuffed to bursting while she grabbed a long case.

"Why'd he need to stay inside?" she asked as they walked back to the room.

Logan could see Clint peeking through the curtains. He decided to tell a little white lie. "Those government men stopped by, asked if I'd seen anyone suspicious." He shrugged, moving one of the bags higher on his shoulder. "I didn't tell them anything, obviously, but better safe than sorry."

"Oh," she sounded subdued. "Then he really is in trouble, huh? It's a good thing he's got someone looking after him then."

Logan didn't reply, just lead the way inside. Clint was laying on the bed like he hadn't been spying on them. He grinned when Missy came in behind Logan.

"Hey Missy," Clint exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He stumbled a little, but hurried to embrace his friend. He picked her up and swung her around until she giggled.

"Clint," she said breathlessly, "put me down, please. I'm getting dizzy."

The boy reluctantly let her down. "Aw, Missy, did you get all my stuff? You didn't have to do that." He was looking at the two bags that Logan dropped by the door.

She turned to follow Clint's gaze. "Yep, me and mama packed up everything we could find in the trailer and I'm pretty sure we packed a lot of Swordsman's and Trickshot's stuff too." She grabbed the case she brought in. "Oh, and I brought your bow to."

Clint took the case reverently, but he didn't open it, only laying it carefully on the bed. "Won't they come looking for their stuff? Jacques real particular about his knives."

Missy shrugged. "They're in the wind, and honestly, I won't miss 'em."

"Were they arrested?" Logan asked suddenly, startling the girl. He felt bad about that, he hadn't meant to scare her.

"We don't think so," she shook her head. "They were gone when we finally started looking for them. The government men left looking really mad, like super mad."

"Did you find the money they took?" Clint asked suddenly.

"Yeah," Missy said nodding so hard her ponytail flipped over her face. "It was in the trailer. We found it when we started packing your stuff. It wasn't all there, but we recovered most of it."

"That's great," Clint said, relieved. His shoulders dropped, but when Missy looked at him, he grinned at her. "So what about me? Do they miss me yet?"

Clint was staring at his bowcase, avoiding looking at Missy, but Logan was studying the girl so he saw her flinch. "I'm sorry, Clint, but Carson says he has to think about what's best for the circus and…"

"And, that's not me," Clint said, his voice quiet and fragile.

Missy nodded sadly. "Those men threatened Mr. Carson, said that he was to call them if he saw any of you again or else they'd come back and ruin the circus. And after what Jacques and Buck did, well, you know. We stand by our own, but stealing from us that's crossing a line. Madam Z said it would be best if you just never came back so there won't be any trouble. They are all really sorry, Clint, but there isn't anything we can do." She hugged herself and avoided meeting anyone's eyes. Clint helped with that, but Logan narrowed his eyes at her, not sure how he felt about all of this. "Oh and this is for you to. Gaffer said you'd earned it." She pulled an envelope from her pocket and held it out to Clint. It was decently thick and smelled of money.

Clint stared at the envelope for a long moment, and Logan could smell the misery coming off him. But when he looked up, he was wearing a cocky smile. "Don't worry about me, Missy," he said jauntily, stuffing the envelope in his pocket. He went up to her and took her face gently in his hands. "Buck up, 'k?" He waited for her to return his smile. "That's better. Don't you see? This could be my big break, a chance to make something of myself. Just you wait, soon Hawkeye will be famous." He brushed a stray hair out of her face. "You and the others just need to take care of yourselves, and don't worry about me."

Missy threw her arms around him and squeezed hard. "They should have named you cat-eye, the way you always land on your feet," she mumbled into his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a long time until Logan cleared his throat to get her attention again. "Did the suits say what part of the government they were from?" he asked to cover their awkward parting. They didn't seem to be attracted to each other, but they were certainly friends and this parting was hard on both of them.

Missy seemed thankful for this distraction. They moved apart and Clint retreated back to where he left his bow case. "Not that I heard, though one of the clowns said they had official looking badges and John, one of the roustabouts, he was in the army and he said their guns were the real deal and not something you can get in the private sector," she explained, her eyes narrowing as she tried to remember. She said the last part like she was quoting someone.

Logan nodded, thinking that over. Finally he pulled out his wallet and took out of the cards that Chuck had printed for him. It just had the school's number and his name on it. "Here take one of these. If those guys come back and cause trouble, call this number and ask for me. Tell them what's wrong and I'll get the message."

She took the card nervously. "You sure?" she asked suspiciously.

Logan shrugged, not wanting to get into his motives. "I've got experience with this kind of thing. I'm not saying I can fix the problem but maybe I can help. Truthfully though, you'll probably never see them again." Whether they got what they wanted to not, it was unlikely that SHIELD would bother a small circus again without serious provocation. Still, he didn't like leaving things to chance. These seemed like good people, even if they were leaving a young boy with a complete stranger.

"Okay," Missy said, putting the card in her pocket. "Thanks, Mister."

"You be careful, Missy," Clint said earnestly. "These guys mean business. Don't worry about me, though. I can handle myself."

"Of course you can, Clint." She gave him another hug. "I better go. I need to catch up with the others."

"Sure," Clint agreed. He saw her out but Logan stopped him from going outside.

"I'll walk her to her truck," Logan said.

"Don't talk about me," Clint joked but his tone was fragile.

Outside, in the dimly lit parking lot, Missy turned to Logan. "Be nice to him, 'k," she ordered. "And watch his back. Oh, and don't give up on him." She was quiet for a second before she rounded on him again. "And don't let him stop practicing. He's really good, as you saw. Oh and he likes dogs, like all dogs. And…"

"I get it, darling'," he said holding up a hand as they got to the truck. "I'll take as good care of him as I'm able, I promise."
"Good," she said. She opened her mouth to say something else, but all that came out was, "Well, bye." Then, she climbed into her truck and was soon just a pair of taillights on the road.

Logan shook his head as he walked back to the room. What had he gotten himself into?

Inside, Clint was sorting through one of the bags. His bow case was beside him, within sight and reach. He was pulling out a pair of socks when Logan walked in. He made a face and chucked them into the trash can, a perfect shot.

"How much of that is yours?" Logan asked as he took a seat in the chair.

"About half," Clint admitted. "Missy and her ma probably couldn't tell which corner was mine." He pulled out a pair of underwear that followed the socks. "Aw, Buck, eww. It was pretty messy in there with the three of us. I moved in with Jacques when Barney left and I didn't need a whole trailer for myself, and when Buck lost his in a poker game, he moved in with us. It was kinda tight." He was trying for jovial, but Logan could smell his anxiety. "We made it work though; it wasn't like we had much time for lounging in bed."

Logan snorted, letting the kid keep things light. "Two bachelors and a teenage boy? You're lucky they didn't pass out before they could gather your stuff." He could smell the unwashed laundry from inside the bags and across the room. It was kind of taxing on his enhanced senses. He smiled at the memory of Ro complaining about his hygiene. "And I thought I was bad."

Clint looked up, and while it was fragile, he did have a real smile now. "Yeah, you've got a point. I think I picked up the most of the three of us, and I didn't do it real often." He ran a hand over his spare costume with a sigh. "Guess it don't matter now."

Logan wasn't sure what to say to that so he didn't and they waited for the pizza in silence while Clint continued to sort through the bag. More laundry ended up in the trash and the kid did have perfect aim because not even one sock missed. It was kind of peaceful, with the silence only broken by Clint's occasional groans of disgust as he tossed his mentor's unmentionables. Logan was almost sad to hear the pizza truck pull up; almost. He was pretty hungry. He went outside to intercept the delivery boy, not that he thought SHIELD would check on his pizza order but being paranoid had saved him in the past.

Clint must have been starving because his stomach rumbled loudly when Logan brought the boxes in. The boy shoved his pile of clothes and odds and ends back into his bag to clear off the bed.

"Hold your horses, bub," Logan admonished when Clint dove straight to the pizza. "Wash your hands first. You've been sorting through dirty laundry. I can smell you from here."

Clint rolled his eyes but complied. To set a good example, Logan washed his hands to before they both attacked the food with a vengeance.

Clint moaned around his first bite of pizza. "Man, I was starving. I haven't eaten since breakfast." At Logan's raised eyebrow, Clint explained, talking around bites of pizza and breadstick. "I don't like to eat before a show. It's not that I get nervous or anything, I just don't want a full stomach when I'm swinging upside down. Besides I gotta keep my figure, right?"

Logan grunted in agreement. He didn't say that the kid could use some more meat on his bones. After that, they kept their attention on the food.

By the time they finished dinner, it was late enough that Clint was yawning. "Take the bed," Logan ordered when the kid's jaw threatened to dislocate.

"No way, man," Clint argued. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. I'll take the floor."

Logan shook his head. "Do what you want, but I'm sleeping in this chair. Either take the bed or leave it empty." He settled into the chair, tipping his hat down over his eyes. It wasn't real comfortable but he'd slept in worse and it wasn't like he'd have to worry about a crick in his neck.

Clint stared at Logan for a few minutes before grabbing something out of his bag and disappearing into the bathroom. When he emerged he was wearing a tee-shirt and sweats. With another apprehensive glance at Logan, he turned off all the lights and settled into the bed. Logan watched the kid try to get comfortable. Clint ended up in a nest of sorts with the pillowed and blankets all wrapped around him. It was kind of funny, but Logan just smiled and let himself fall into a light doze.