After a mild panic attack and the struggle that it took the two of us to get Stewart into his carrier, I finally let my mind settle on the facts that were presented.

1. Clint was Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye. He was an Avenger.

2. He was living next door to me.

That's all I had managed so far. The why to the second fact was like a great big slap in the face. Beth was as equally freaked out as I was. She wanted to know what I was going to do about this.

I told her nothing and she gave me an overdramatic, flabbergasted look.

It wasn't my place to pry. Maybe he came to D.C. for a break. Maybe he was undercover on a mission. Or maybe he wanted to not be Clint Barton for a while.

Maybe he just wanted to be Clint.

Either way I wasn't just going to flood him with questions. His reasons for not telling me were his own.

I then had to strong-arm Beth into swearing she wouldn't bring this up to anyone, most of all to Clint, hounding him with questions on all things Avengers. And to please try and act normal around him if she saw him.

The keyword was try for Beth because I knew it was going to be a task.

After Beth left with Stewart my mind was still spinning but I couldn't dwell on it. I had things to do. The first being was to clean my bathtub. An hour and half a bottle of bleach later I was satisfied my bathroom had been cleaned of all traces of the little duck that had been there.

When that was completed, I showered and changed, getting ready to go to my bi-weekly lunch with Pops.

It was always wonderful to see Pops but this lunch my mind was elsewhere. Still swimming with questions about Clint. Pops could tell but I brushed it off saying it was work. If something was up with Clint, and he was undercover for some reason I wasn't going to put Pops in danger.

By the time I had gotten back to my apartment, it was late afternoon. Beth had sent me a ton of files on Hawkeye the Avenger which I quickly glanced over, though it only made me more nervous.

Grabbing my laundry, I trekked down to the basement and started a load and set a timer on my phone. When I went back upstairs, I changed into a pair of jeans and one of my Hamilton t-shirts.

I had work to do but as I glanced out at the balcony, I hesitated about going outside.

What if Clint came out and wanted to speak?

Not that I didn't want to speak to him! I wanted too, but I wondered if I would be able to keep my cool and act like nothing was amiss. I mean he was a former agent of Shield, an Avenger, and a master assassin for hire.

He would definitely be able to tell if I was lying or something was amiss.

Okay, get a grip Dottie.

If you just continue as normal, then everything will be fine.

You liked him before you found out who he really was. Nothing is different.

As a friend?

My mind shot back at me.

Yes...yes of course like him as a friend.

Clint has his reasons for keeping his real identity a secret. I have to respect that and support whatever he wants. And in time if he wants to tell me everything he can.

Shaking my head I huffed out a sigh and grabbed my laptop and research materials before making my way to the balcony.


Clint had managed to grab a few hours of sleep with a nap. He was surprised he had been able to sleep at all.

He had guessed that babysitting a baby duck took more out of him than he thought.

When he woke up he video chatted with Nat for about an hour. He was keeping her up to date with things on his end so far. She was letting him know how things were going at the compound.

She had told him that Sam's, Visons, and Wanda's training had been going well. Stark was annoying everyone but that wasn't new.

They all missed him and asked when he was going to be coming back. He asked Nat how Wanda was doing. She told him that Wanda was managing. It was doing her good to be at the compound.

He sighed. The guilt was still fresh at the surface as ever.

Nat understood more than anyone why he needed to get away. They just got each other. That's why they were best friends. He could tell her anything.

Strangely though he didn't tell her about Dorothy. Clint wanted to but he imagined Nat would make a big deal about it even though it was nothing.

He remembered how much she pestered Steve about trying to find him a woman. Clint did not need that commentary in his life. Especially since he knew how Nat would latch onto something when she put her mind to it.

He and Dorothy were neighbors. Friends. Nothing more.

Yet he felt disappointment when he thought about it like that. He should be satisfied. But for an unknown reason, he wasn't.

It was good to talk to Nat and catch up. He did miss his family but for some reason, the conversation didn't appease him in his loneliness like he thought it would.

Putting down his tablet he went over to the balcony doors to cautiously see if Dorothy was outside. He saw her laptop and the surrounding area filled with papers but not her. Her door was open.

Coming outside on the balcony he went to investigate to see if she was alright. When he got to her balcony door he almost collided into her.

"Oh, Clint!" She exclaimed in surprise.

"Hi." He fumbled out as he took a step back from her.

"Everything okay?" She asked him.

"Yeah, I saw all of your stuff here but saw the door open. I was just coming to see if you were okay." Clint quietly told her.

A small smile instantly appeared on her face.

"That's so thoughtful, thank you. But alas, no mortal danger." She joked "I just had to run to the laundry room to put my clothes in the dryer." She said to him as she closed the door behind her and made her way back to her laptop.

"God everything is a mess. I'm so sorry! Please excuse me." Dorothy began to pick up her scattered papers and notebook.

"It's fine. I don't want to bother you." Clint was already excusing himself, but she stopped him.

"No, you're fine!" She grinned at him "My mind needs a break as you can tell." She smirked at the mess around her on the floor. Cleaning up the papers and notes she grabbed her laptop and put everything onto the side.

"Feel free to join me, I mean if you want, I don't know if you're busy." She flushed.

Something inside him stirred but he pushed it aside.

"What are you working on?" He asked her as he sat down across from her on the floor.

"I am working on an article for the Smithsonian Magazine. The piece is on the history of Eastern State Penitentiary. I forced Beth to visit it with me a month ago so I could take pictures and collect information." She told him.

"I'm guessing it's a prison?" He lightly joked.

"It's one of the oldest prisons in America. The building of this prison mentions the first time the word penitentiary was used when describing a prison. It was first opened in 1829 and it was the first prison to adopt the 'Pennsylvania System.'" Dorothy began to grow excited as she began explaining all of this to him.

He found it amusing.

"What's the Pennsylvania system?" He asked her, wanting to continue to hear her speak.

"It was the correctional theory were people thought if you leave a prisoner alone the solitude will make the person regretful of their actions. Essentially, they will be reborn, become penitent, and never want to commit another crime. It birthed the phrase 'Only the penitent man will pass.'" She was grinning at this point.

"The prisoners were forced to wear masks to keep from communicating from each other during their rare trips outside their cells. The cells were equipped with feed doors and they each had their own personal exercise yards. All of this was done to minimize contact between not only other inmates but the inmates and the guards. Prisoners did everything in their cells. The slept in there, ate in there, worked in there." She continued.

"Wouldn't all that time alone do more harm than good?" Clint pondered.

"Oh totally!" Dorothy's eyes grew brighter and he had to hold his laughter in "The prisoners went totally insane from all of the solitary confinement. That period of history is when we realized that hey, making locking someone in a cell for 23 hours a day with extremely limited contact will make someone go nuts."

"Though to be fair the people who created the Pennsylvania System weren't doing it to be cruel. They passionately believed that labor, solitude, and religion would help them to repent and see the error of their ways." She tried to explain to him "It wasn't until later when the regular abuse from prison guards and wardens come into play."

"Naturally." Clint chuckled at her.

"Do you want to see some of the photos I took?" She asked him.

Clint nodded his head and scooted closer to her as she grabbed her laptop. He watched her navigate her computer and pull photos up from a file.

"There you go." She said plopping the laptop into his lap as he began to scroll through the photos.

"Whoa." He said to himself as he went through photo after photo of the crumbling behemoth of a prison.

"I know. It's...beautiful in a haunting kind of way. If that makes sense." She softly said.

Clint turned to see Dorothy staring at the pictures in awe.

"See the ceiling arches." His eyes briefly went to the screen before looking back at her "They were made to mimic the architecture of churches. The photos don't do them justice." She pointed to the screen "Standing under those ceilings, it's so open and wide. It leaves you breathless." He could see her eyes glittering against the backdrop of the screen with a small smile on her face.

All of a sudden he felt himself feeling warm.

Turning her head, she caught him staring at her.

"Sorry." Her cheeks blushing "It doesn't take much to get me to off on a history ramble."

"Don't apologize this is fascinating to hear. You're a great story-teller." He gave her a small smile.

Clint could have sworn he saw her blush deepen "Thank you. Not many people would agree with you. It takes patience to be around a historian." She joked.

He let out a chuckle. He had plenty of patience from his time with the team. Stark in particular.

"I have loads of patience so you should never worry about it." He smirked at her and she laughed.

"I'll hold you to that." She grinned at him.

"You should see Al Capone's cell." She briefly took control of the laptop again before giving it back to him "Well it's not exactly how it was set up in 1929 but it's what historians believed it looked it."

"Al Capone was an inmate there?" Clint questioned in mild surprise.

"Only for eight months. He was arrested for carrying a deadly weapon. It was his first prison stint ever. You know a lot of people think Eastern State is haunted because of its history." Her eyes glinted in mischief "Some people claim that Al Capone was being haunted while he was there." She leaned in and spookily whispered to him.

He caught a whiff of her. Clint caught faint traces of vanilla and notes of coconut. He liked it.

"What don't tell me you believe in ghosts?" He joked with her trying to get his thinking back to the conversation and not on her sweet scent.

"I do." She beamed.

"Oh God." He groaned and she began to giggle.

"I know me being a historian it's irrational, but I can't help it. You spend enough time in these places and you can just feel something around you." A glint of childlike wonder in her eyes.

He just shook his head and laughed.

"So who was Capone being haunted by?" He asked her with a light tone.

"A number of inmates heard him on multiple occasions in his cell calling out for a Jimmy. Screaming and begging him to leave him alone. Capone was thought to have organized the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. One of the men killed was a man named Jimmy Clark." She seriously told him.

"No!" He mocked her and she smacked his arm.

"Shut it!" Laughing at him "You don't know if it was Jimmy Clark's spirit haunting him. It could very well have been him!"

She paused "Or it could have been the syphilis working its way into his brain." She pondered.

At that Clint broke out laughing.

"Are you kidding me? Capone had the pox!"

"Yeah." Dorothy laughed along with him "He slept around a lot in his early days. That's how he got it. Loads of unprotected sex. In 1938 he was officially diagnosed with syphilis of the brain while he was doing time at Alcatraz."

"No shit. See I always learn new things when I spend time with you." He grinned at her.

She laughed but once again he could see her cheeks blush.

He liked making her blush.

They had quieted down by this point. Clint didn't know where to go from here.

"Do you want to get some take out? Maybe watch a movie?" She turned and asked him. Catching him off guard.

"Yeah, I'd like that." He smiled at her surprising himself in the process.


"Make yourself at home." Bringing Clint into my place as I shut the door.

When I dropped all my research and my laptop on the table my phone alarm went off.

"Shit, that's my laundry. If I don't rush down someone will dump out my clothes for the dryer." Rolling my eyes as I went into the kitchen and grabbed the pile of takeout menus I kept in the corner by the fridge. Walking out of the kitchen I saw Clint nervously standing by the couch.

"You can sit if you'd like." Joking with him, hoping not to laugh at his unease.

"Go through and pick what you want. I'll be back in a few minutes." Handing him the menus and darting out of my apartment before he could say anything further.

Well this was going okay.

No good. It was going good so far. Nothing felt awkward or uneasy. Hell almost all of the time we were together the thought of him being an Avenger didn't pop back into my head until he stepped into my apartment.

Being with Clint just felt comfortable.

He was easy to talk to. He listened. Even when I did ramble on about history but he appeared to enjoy my brief lecture on Eastern State.

A small smile crept onto my lips as I pulled my laundry from the dryer into my basket. Who knew talking to a guy about Al Capone's syphilis could be such a good time.

Climbing back up to my apartment I ruminated.

Clint didn't seem like a superhero. He didn't scream Avenger to me. Not that I knew anything about superheroes, but he wasn't flashy or in your face. Definitely not like Tony Stark. Then again not all the Avengers were like Iron Man so I couldn't really compare Clint to him.

I wondered who his best friend was?

My mind buzzed with questions that I wanted to ask him more out of curiosity than anything but I knew I couldn't.

Stopping at my door I took a deep breath. If Clint wanted, or could tell me, it would be entirely his decision. Until or if that happened I would keep everything the same. For both of our sakes.

"What did you decide?" Coming into my apartment with my laundry.

"Pizza sound good?" Clint held up a menu. Thankfully he had finally settled onto the couch.

"Only if we get mozzarella sticks." Grinning at him.

"Deal." He grinned back and pulled out his phone to order before I could protest.

"And people say chivalry is dead." Joking with him as I began to fold my laundry.

"Yeah well, I try." A cocky grin on his lips as he settled further onto my couch.

"How's that ego of yours doing? Isn't it getting a little big?" Raising my eyes at him. Sarcasm dripping from my voice.

"You know you like it." Clint gave me a devilish smile and my stomach did a little flip.

Odd. Weird. Weird and Odd.

"Whatever." Grumbling as I finished folding my laundry. Trying to push the funny feeling from my stomach.

"I'm going to go put away the laundry. If you're looking to steal something now would be the time." Speaking to him before I disappeared into my bedroom.

"Thanks for the tip!" He yelled back to me.

A few minutes later I came back out and found him up and wandering around my apartment. Properly taking everything in.

"So what did you decide to fence?" Asking as I leaned against the wall watching him.

"I'll pass. You don't have anything worth stealing." He joked as his eyes passed over the pictures lining my walls.

I let out a snort "Don't I know."

Clint briefly stopped before a picture of me as a toddler with my mother.

"Is that your mom?" He asked, pointing to the framed photo.

"Yeah, that's mom." A small smile moving to my lips.

"She was beautiful." He said turning back to the photo.

"I know." Breathing out "Too bad I wasn't as lucky." Jesting. My self-deprecating personality shining through.

"I would disagree," Clint responded clearly but kept his attention on the photos.

My heart thumped hard in my chest.

Did he really just say that?

Oh my God. Keep cool. He's probably just being nice.

"What's this?" He questioned standing in front of one of Hamilton frames.

"Beth gave that to me after I got my job offer at the museum." Coming over to him, praying that my cheeks weren't red.

We both stood in front of a white frame holding an artist print of a black background and simple gold scriptwriting saying Passionately Smashing Every Expectation

"It's from the Hamilton musical. It's from the song My Shot. It's Hamilton's big, pump-up song." Explaining to Clint "Beth got that after I got my job because she said I was just like Alexander Hamilton, passionately smashing every expectation. Very few people thought I would get the job. Most of all me." A grin twitching on my lips as I remembered the day I got the email saying I had been selected for the position.

"Yet you proved them, and yourself wrong." Clint turned to me with sincere eyes.

"Yeah, I did." Warmly smiling.

We stood silent, staring at each other. Taking each other in. It wasn't awkward or weird. It was comfortable.

My insides were itching the longer he stared at me. My head felt fuzzy but clear at the same time. My heart began to pump faster in my chest.

What was going on?

"So what movie do you want to watch?" Clearing my throat as I took a step back to try and clear my head.

"Ladies choice," Clint told me but his voice sounded off.

"Dangerous game letting me pick." Giggling out "What if I force you to watch Grease?" Raising my eyebrows at him.

I saw him pale just a little.

"Then I would suffer through it." He finally said.

"Don't worry you're in the clear. I can't stand Grease." Laughing.

"Thank Jesus." He mumbled under his breath causing me to laugh harder.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Going to the kitchen pulling out a soda "I don't keep alcohol in the apartment but if you had a beer in your fridge I wouldn't object to you having it."

"If you don't mind?" He said with hesitation.

"You're fine." Waving him off.

"Be back in a minute then." Clint disappeared out the balcony door as I went over to my DVD selection already having the perfect movie in mind. I was putting the disc in the player when Clint came back.

"Can I ask why you don't keep alcohol in your apartment?" He said as he took a seat on the couch.

"I don't drink. Plus alcohol in the house reminds me too much of the home I'd like to forget." Nonchalantly responding as I took a seat on the couch. I was careful not to sit next to him but to not sit in no man's land on the opposite side.

A look of worry crept over his face when I turned to him and found him staring at his bottle of beer.

"Hey, I said it was fine. Don't overthink it." Softly saying to him. Clint looked back up at me, confirming what I said. To reassure him I put on a smile.

His lips moved upward, and it made me feel good.

"So what are we watching?" He asked as he got comfortable.

"I'll give you a hint." Grinning wickedly at him. This would be a true test.

Turning to him I gave him my full attention before speaking "Four fried chickens, a coke, and plain white toast."

It only took him a second before his eyes lit up "The Blues Brothers!" He exclaimed.

Raising my hand I waited for him to high five me back "Very good! You passed the test." I actually was impressed he knew the movie reference.

"What do I get for passing?" He smiled like a child.

"The continued pleasure of my company." Feeling brave I winked at him as I grabbed the remote. Even though the familiar heat of embarrassment flooded through me.

"Lucky me then." Clint winked back with a wolfish smile.

I knew I turned pink.

Was he flirting with me?

Thinking better to not say anything I pressed play and we began the movie.

Twenty minutes in the pizza arrived and I paused the movie.

"What do I owe you?" Asking as I went into the kitchen to grab plates and napkins.

"Nothing." He replied.

"Come on Clint." Trying again as I handed him a plate.

"Dorothy you're not paying me anything. I owe you for getting me my Funko Pop doll."

"I got that as a present. To thank you for helping me with my sink. Plus you stayed up all night with Stewart." Arguing with him as I grabbed two slices of pizza and a mozzarella stick.

"Woman will you just let me pay for this pizza." Clint sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically in my direction.

"Fine." Huffing out knowing I'd just be hitting a brick wall "But I still owe you a breakfast." Quickly adding that past before he could object "Now just watch the movie you fat penguin." Smirking as I hit play.


Clint felt warm. Warmer than usual. Also heavier. Opening his eyes the room was bright with the morning sun.

For a brief microsecond, he panicked then remembered the night before. He had hung out with Dorothy on the balcony. They went to her apartment, ordered a pizza, and watched The Blues Brothers.

So….

Clint looked down and found Dorothy curled up against him. His arm draping over protectively. She was sound asleep. When had they fallen asleep?

He remembered finishing the movie and the pizza. They talked and talked again. He learned more about her. He remembered flirting with her here and there during the night. He noted all the times he made her blush.

When she winked at him he tried not to think about how his heart sped up.

Clint found himself not wanting to leave her company. He didn't want to be alone back in his apartment. He wanted to stay with her, in her apartment. Her place felt homey. Lived in. That was apparent with the personal touches everywhere.

A stark difference to his place.

But more importantly, he liked the person more than the apartment.

He vaguely recalled when they turned to Netflix to stream The Big Bang Theory around midnight. After that nothing. How they ended up like this, her curled up against his chest sleeping was a mystery.

The more he kept staring down at her as she peacefully slept, he realized he liked this…whatever this was. Dorothy seemed to fit into him.

She shifted, burying herself further into him.

He felt…strange but couldn't detect anything negative about it. Without thinking he moved to hold her tighter when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Swearing to himself he carefully removed himself from Dorothy's side and quietly went onto the balcony to take the call without waking her.

"What's up Nat?" He said answering thinking something might be wrong.

"So Stark is demanding you come up for a few days and spend time with us." He could see her trademark smirk in his head.

"Is that so?" He asked.

"He got so sick of everyone complaining that they missed you, that he is demanding you come up and see us," Nat replied.

"It's only been a month." Clint deadpanned.

"What can I say. People actually like you." She joked and he let out a laugh.

"Someone besides you? It is shocking." He joked back but his gaze went back to Dorothy's apartment. His mind going to the woman inside.

"So will you come?" She asked breaking his thoughts and the silence.

"Yeah, I'll leave tomorrow. It will be nice to see everyone." He said though his gut twisted when he thought about having to see Wanda.

"And don't worry no one is going to pester you about coming back. I already warned everybody." She said.

"Thanks Nat." He chuckled. She was always looking out for him.

"I'll tell everyone. See you tomorrow." She said.

"See you tomorrow." He replied before they hung up.

When his phone was back in his pocket Clint found himself walking back into Dorothy's apartment. She was still fast asleep on the couch. On instinct, he grabbed the blanket at the back of the couch and draped it over her.

Without thinking further he brushed some of her espresso curls out of her face. Her skin was soft.

A new feeling was coming into his stomach.

He stared down at her for a few moments longer before leaving the apartment, quietly shutting the door behind him.

He swallowed. Maybe seeing everyone would be just what he needed.

Clint had a feeling he should talk to Nat about this.