Chapter 4
Clint was currently sitting in Natasha's car, a black Corvette Stingray. They had already stopped at his apartment and now they were heading to her apartment to get her stuff.
He was sulking beside her because she wasn't letting him drive her car. He tried his luck one more time.
"For the last time, I'm not letting you drive. Last time I borrowed you my car, I found it hanging off the third floor of the tower." Natasha told him heatedly.
"I was just trying to see how fast it could go." Clint told her but couldn't stop the smirk forming on his lips.
"You told me it was Tony who did that." she looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"Uh…..it was both of us." he said lamely.
"Yeah, like I said, you're going to stay as far away from this car as possible."
Clint tried to change the topic. He didn't want her to get started on her tirade again. He had already heard it a hundred times after the incident. God, she really loved her cars.
"What about the new bow Tony made for me, huh? You set it on fire…"
"Because you destroyed my brand-new Audi." She interrupted him with a smirk on her face.
"Yeah, but you set it on fire. Who the fuck sets a bow on fire, Nat?" If Natasha was passionate about cars, he was passionate about his bows.
Natasha's only comeback was a devious smirk. So, he went back to sulking.
That was a pretty normal day with both of them, he thought, looking affectionately at her.
Most people thought that they were together. In fact, he had heard from Phil that many agents had placed bets on speculations of their relationship. They couldn't be more wrong. Yes, he would be blind if he didn't acknowledge that she was beautiful, but he never saw her that way. Everything about their relationship was purely platonic. He trusted her with his life and so did she. They were best friends…
He felt the car being slowed down and eventually stopped. They had arrived at her apartment.
"I'm gonna stay here in the car. You go."
"Alright, but I don't want to see a hair out of place….."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. No touching the super car. Understood" he said, his voice full of sarcasm.
She gave him a cold look and went inside. Most of the time, they lived at the Avengers Tower, but sometimes they were forced to use their shitty apartments because of its closer proximity to the HQ.
The duo arrived at the airport along with their duffels five minutes earlier and waited for Potter.
Clint was dressed in jeans with a casual gray t-shirt while Nat was wearing a white hoodie with black leggings.
He was thinking about the mission right now and the new addition to their team. He had never seen the guy before today and was quite surprised to hear that Hill trusted him. She had never mentioned him before. Honestly, he wouldn't mind his presence. He didn't stare at him like a fanboy as most agents do, so that was a plus. He was a bit worried about Nat though, she didn't usually play nice with others.
"So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?" he questioned her, looking warily at her.
"What's there to talk about? We don't have any choice. We'll just have to tag him along." she was looking around, searching for threats, like she usually did when they were in the open.
"He doesn't want to be here anymore than we do. So, you're not gonna work him up, right?"
She only gave him a smirk.
"He's here" she stated. She nodded toward the entrance.
He looked towards the direction indicated and noticed Potter walking towards them. He was wearing a navy blue hoodie with black pants.
He seemed fidgety and looked like he didn't want to be here.
He noticed from the corner of his eyes that Natasha was smirking.
It was going to be a long day.
They were sitting in the plane en route to Heathrow airport. Clint was currently observing his two companions.
On his left was Nat, who was listening to some Russian band while pretending to be asleep. She wouldn't express her Russian heritage, but makes it all up by listening to some ridiculous russian music, all day and night. It usually had a calming effect on her but not today. She was tense. Maybe, it was because of the new addition to their team.
Speaking of him, he was sitting on his right side with a book in his hand about Quantum Information. Honestly, he didn't know what a 'quantum information' was. He didn't go to a school or college and didn't have any interest in science.
"Please tell me you're not another Tony Stark?" he said jokingly trying to start a conversation with him. He felt Nat shifting in her seat, meaning she was listening their conversation.
Potter just shrugged and went back to reading.
Looked like he wasn't interested in a conversation, but Clint was bored. So he continued:
"Or Banner? You're all gloomy, like him." He gave him a long glance and paused for a dramatic effect.
"Yep, definitely Banner"
He gave a mental victory jig when he saw Potter set aside the fairly advanced book with a sigh. When he turned to him the first thing that caught his attention were his eyes. They were the greenest eyes he had ever seen. The second thing that caught his attention was the annoyed expression on his face.
"I thought we had an unspoken agreement to not have small talk and concentrate on the mission."
"What gave you that impression?" Clint asked him, his eyes shining with amusement.
"Well, miss widow, here, has been glaring at me since my arrival at the airport." He said with sarcasm, nodding at her direction.
Clint couldn't control himself. He laughed out loud.
He felt Nat shift in her seat again. She had never been called 'Miss Widow' before. He could imagine the cold look directed towards Potter for calling her that name. He made a mental note to call her Miss Widow when he wanted to annoy her.
"You better not call her that to her face." Even though he knew she was listening in.
Potter stayed silent for a moment and then hesitantly asked:
"Is this your first assignment, with anyone other than her?"
"Nah, we often team up with different STRIKE teams, but that's it."
"Hmmm…." He hummed. It occurred to Clint that he didn't talk with them because of his quiet nature not because of the awkwardness.
Well, Clint was here to help him out of his dejected state.
He had to admit, it felt good to talk to someone, other than the Avengers, who didn't ask him about 'New York' and wasn't staring at him suspiciously about the whole mind controlling fiasco. He still had nightmares about that.
He was responsible for a lot of innocent lives he had taken while he was under Loki's influence, including the one's lost during the battle because he was one of the people who helped Loki open the portal.
Potter must have seen something on his face because he was looking at him weirdly but kept quiet. He appreciated the gesture but promised to not to slip up again. It seemed Potter was quite observant.
There was an awkward silence after that. Potter didn't know what to say and he didn't feel like talking after the depressive thoughts.
Suddenly, Potter yawned and told him that he's going to take a nap.
After a couple minutes when his breathing evened out, Nat asked, opening her eyes:
"Where are we going after landing?"
"Coulson set us up a safehouse. He'll text me the address once we land."
She hummed but frowned when she observed him.
"What?" she asked him.
"Nothing, just a feeling that this wouldn't be like our usual missions."
"Well, that much I figured." She said glancing at the sleeping form of Potter.
The three of them took a taxi after exiting the airport. Nat made them change many taxis so they won't be followed. Finally, they arrived at the safehouse.
The safe house was located at the heart of London. It was a fairly small house with a garden and a garage in the front.
The inside of the house looked worn out. It reeked of old wood and looked like no one had used the house for years.
There was only one bedroom and a bathroom. So, they all would have to share.
Clint dropped his duffel with a loud thud at the side of the door and went to see if there was anything to eat. Obviously, there wasn't anything. So, with a sigh, he went back to join the others.
The two spies were standing at the same place he had left them. The only difference was that Nat was glaring coldly at Potter who was standing over a broken vase.
He cleared his throat to get their attention and Nat turned her glare to him. He tried not to wince. She seemed really pissed off.
"We're out of food, honey" he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
It didn't work.
"I know a place around here which sells really great Chow Mein."
"Then why are you still here?" Potter rolled his eyes at Clint's impatience but went outside without any complaint, leaving them alone.
Immediately, Nat whirled around him.
"I don't want to be anywhere near that clumsy idiot, when we're in a gunfight."
"Oh, come on, you have to admit he's not the worst person we've ever worked with. You remember that Mexican guy in 2010? Alexandro?"
"Alejandro." She corrected him exasperatedly.
"He literally wet his pants, when he was in the receiving end of your glare." He told her, laughing his head off.
Nat cracked a smile at the memory.
They went to the sofa to sit down and wait for the food.
Honestly, Clint was a bit worried as well. Potter wasn't an amateur. He had read the report of Potter's last mission.
He was impressed by Potter's intellect. Luring the target out by manipulating her competitor in business to organize a charity event. She was a competitive woman, so her attending the gala was ensured.
But that was a planned and calculated move, what will happen when shit hits the fan as it mostly does? Nat and his fighting style was different and he wasn't sure if Potter would be able to keep up with them. For god's sake, he got near average marks in hand to hand.
He didn't want to sound arrogant but there was a reason they were always sent alone in missions. In their early days, they used to be assigned with other agents but most of the time it ended with a disaster, so Fury was forced to send the two alone on missions. One of the reasons they joined the Avengers was so that they wouldn't have to hold back anymore when dealing with criminals. Avenger-level threats were made of sturdy material and they didn't have to be careful to not to kill their target. Their team members weren't assholes, except maybe Stark, so that was a plus.
Ring, Ring.
It was the doorbell.
He saw Nat tense. She went to the kitchen and came back with a knife to use as a weapon, just in case. He looked around for anything and found a broken shard of glass. It was a shame he didn't have his bow. He watched her walk to the door, silently and looked through the peephole.
She relaxed slightly so he forced himself to do the same. It was Potter. With food. He was starving. He can't remember the last time he ate. The food in the plane was horrible so that didn't count, he told himself.
Nat opened the door and let him in but not without glaring daggers at him. It wasn't because of the fact that Potter was, as she put it, a 'clumsy idiot'. It was because she didn't trust him and was pressuring him into slipping up.
He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a dull thud.
Potter put the dinner down on the table and began to eat silently.
Clint didn't wait for Nat. Without further ado, he pounced on the food. He had to admit, it was easily the best Chow Mein he had ever eaten.
He glanced at Natasha and saw her staring suspiciously at the food.
Well, if the food was poisoned, then one of them would be dead, meaning him. In hindsight, he should have checked it first. But what's done is done and he wasn't dead yet, he thought wryly.
The bedroom looked the same as the rest of the house but at least no rat came into sight. The bed laid in the middle of the right wall with two nightstands on either side. There was a small worn out chandelier on the ceiling which flickered frequently. All in all, it wasn't the worst conditions they've ever lived in.
Clint knew Nat didn't want to sleep with an unknow guy in the room, but there wasn't any other choice.
"I''ll be on the lookout." He shot their notion out the window.
Even Nat was surprised by Potter's proposition.
"Why do you want to be on the lookout? Nobody even knows we're here?" she asked him with no small amount of suspicion.
"Better to be safe than sorry." He said soberly and walked out the room.