Chapter 4

It had been silent, but for the loud guitar riffs of KISS, for too long between them. Daisy spared a glance at him in the driver's seat. He looked immensely relaxed. So much so that it was beginning to freak her out. Even after she asked to go to a rest stop on the way so she could change into civilian clothes. He didn't even seem to notice and carried on with the awkward silence. Damn bastard was probably enjoying it. She decided she would be the mature one and start the conversation about the operation.

"So, where are we going? I don't think that it would be wise to drive right up to the base and hope for the best," she looked at him for any semblance of displeasure at her tone or lack of respect. All she got was a smirk.

"While that has worked a couple times for Nat and I, I don't believe we know each other's fighting styles well enough for that to work for this," he paused for a half second before beginning again. "And to answer your question, Daisy, we are headed to a town that is a couple miles out from the base."

Daisy tilted her head at him; he had called her by her first name. Not Agent Johnson, not by her codename Quake. There was something strange and familiar about it that she didn't quite know what to think of. She shook it off and continued with her professional attitude.

"What do you hope to accomplish there? Canvasing the townspeople and seeing if they know anything?" She was curious as to how the Avenger operated when he was in the field.

"Sort of. We are going to go to the bar and order a couple beers and relax for a while," And the damn bastard had the nerve to smirk when she snapped her head towards him.

"You have no ounce of professionalism in you, do you?" She shot back with some heat on it. She had been like this when she had just joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and had been reprimanded and told to behave professionally. How could this man who was so respected in the field be such a snarky ass and still be successful?

He shrugged, "I turn it on when I have to. But when I'm not being shot at or tortured, I'm not that strict of a guy. If you want to continue being all… May-like, then go ahead. I, for one, like to see the fun in missions." He raised an eyebrow, just above the top rim of his aviators, at her. A smirk again, curving itself along his jaw. He continued, "And Coulson told me that you reminded him of me when he first picked you up, said that you schooled it down a bit since being a team leader."

"I needed the team to know that I knew what I was talking about. They would respect and listen to me then." She snarled back at him.

He held up his hands, "Meant no disrespect, kid. Just saying, you don't have to shut off that personality completely in the field. I work with the fucking Black Widow, the epitome of buried emotions, and it's thanks to my stunningly beautiful personality that she-who-never-smiles has laughed in the middle of a firefight," he shrugged at her in a 'what can you do' sort of way. "You'll get used to me."

Daisy didn't know what to say to that so she kept quiet mulling over his words. She decided that this, frustration of a man, would be impossible in the field. She would most likely have to do everything the way she had been taught so it wouldn't go to hell in a hand basket via Clint Barton.

She glanced out the window as they passed the town sign, Lakefield Minnesota, she sighed, her breath ghosting along the window; this was going to be a long mission.