Chapter 6

As they entered into the bar, Daisy immediately locked onto four men, sitting on barstools that were Hydra agents. Or they were at least mercenaries. They were all trained, as their eyes snapped over to the two strangers entering the bar. She feigned a look around and spotted an open table. She slapped Clint's ribs with the back of her hand and nodded her head over to the table. He smiled at her and followed.

He plopped down across from her; she gave him the job of keeping the agents in sight, as she placed her back to them. He picked up the menu and began scanning it, as he muttered to her.

"I'm guessing you made them too? Not trying to hide are they?" He asked, as he seemed to decide what he wanted.

"No, guess people here don't ask many questions," she muttered back glancing over the menu herself. Deciding on chicken fingers, she turned her eyes back to him. His eyebrows were scrunched as he tried to watch them out of the corner of his eyes.

"What is that face? You trying to poop?" She asked sarcastically. His face flinched at being caught doing whatever it was he was doing, and he chuckled, clearly embarrassed.

"I was trying to read their lips…I'm, uh, deaf." He tilted his head for her to see the small hearing aids. Her eyebrows shot up at this.

"How did that happen?" He smiled softly at her bluntness, seeming to appreciate her lack of sympathy.

"Long story. It was a whole thing," he brushed it off as he conveniently missed the wince that flew across her face. Damn, Hawkeye had some history. He turned back to her and immediately changed the subject. Subtle.

"Speaking of which, when did you have the time to change?" He glanced at her new ensemble: a simple orange T-shirt and some jeans with holes in them along with converse. Oddly enough it had been Bobbi that had helped her pick these clothes for undercover. She matched Clint in style well enough. I mean, she did look better, obviously, but it was matched well enough to see that they could run in the same social circles.

"At the rest stop. You went to the bathroom. How are you just now noticing Mr. Avenger?" He frowned at that like he was trying to remember.

"I was gone for, like, two minutes," Daisy tilted her head at him and raised her eyebrow. He muttered something to himself, but they were close enough that Daisy could hear him say something about Natasha. As in the Black Widow, Natasha.

"What's it like working with her?" Daisy asked, a conspirator's smirk appearing on her face. There was no way that two people that attractive and that close are not sleeping together.

"Well, I don't want to brag, but you are looking at the only person that has made the Black Widow laugh hard enough that milk came out of her nose. On a mission, no less." He seemed rather proud of himself and Daisy let out a short laugh.

"Won't she kill you for destroying her street cred?" His smirk immediately dropped and a look of pure, unadulterated fear came over him. But before he could respond the waitress came over and took their order. Once she had gone, the look of fear on Clint's face was gone and replaced by his annoyingly normal face.

"So you control vibrations? That's gotta be really cool," he raised his own snarky eyebrow at her. It took her several seconds to get what he was hinting at and she swore that she could feel the blush to her toes. He laughed at the look on her face and waved her off. "I'm just kidding! God, I should have added that face to my snapchat story," He then looked worried for a second, "People are still using snapchat right?" She rolled her eyes, her embarrassment quickly going away.

"Yes, oh ancient one." He squinted at her in challenge, but before he could say anything two drinks were brought over. The waitress looked incredibly bored, but muttered that, 'they had been paid for by the men at the bar'. Daisy looked over towards the agents and gave them a kind smile. Hydra douches.

"Looks like we've been noticed," Clint sighed, "I was looking forward to my Mac and Cheese…" She shook her head at him. He gave her an offended look, "What?"

"You are a child," she said simply.

"Says the girl who ordered chicken fingers!" He shot back at her. She shrugged her shoulders. And noticed when he sat straighter. They had incoming.

"You two aren't from around here are ya?" The first one asked. Did Hydra only recruit tall, dark, and handsome men? They looked like clone copies of one another.

Clint smiled kindly, "Nah, just passing through." The man looked down between them at their untouched drinks.

"You not a fan of beer?" He asked them skeptically.

"Huge fan," Clint replied, "Just can't be too careful with drinks you didn't pour or didn't come out of a bottle these days."

The man hummed and sized Clint up more, "I think I recognize you…" He was debating with himself if he really wanted to start something.

Clint seemed to wince, "I just have one of those faces." They stared at each other for several more minutes before the lead goon reached for his gun. Clint was faster and smashed the glass full of beer on the man's head. Daisy drew her gun and pointed it at one of the two men, while Clint drew his at the other one. They both looked too stunned to do anything. Clint gave a longing look at the broken glass and beer staining the floor. "Aw… Alcohol…"