Clint shoved clothes into his bag, not bothering to keep it tidy. It was eleven thirty, and if he left soon, he'd get there before sunrise tomorrow. You know, if he pushed the speed a bit.

Zipping the bag, he heaved it over his shoulder. He still wasn't in uniform, but it was packed away in his bag, just in case. Quietly flicking off his lights, he pulled the door open…

To find Steve in full uniform, leaning against the door frame. "And where do you think you're going?"

Clint blinked, surprised, but quickly regained his composure, "I was thinking about going out and getting a drink. I've been craving chicken late…" he smirked. Steve rolled his eyes.

"You do realize how late it is, right? You need to get your rest- we're training tomorrow morning. And, I don't see why you'd need a bag of clothes to go eat chicken."

Now it's Clint's turn to roll his eyes. He pushes by Steve and starts his way down the hall.

"The front door's the other way, Clint."

"I know- but who said anything about eating chicken around here, right?" Steve jogged up to walk beside him.

"I know you're going after you're brother, Clint, and I want to come with you."

"No way, you can't come. I need to talk to him myself, without anyone else around."

"Clint, anything could happen. You need backup and you know it."

"He's my brother. I need to talk to him."

"And you can, but you have to understand Clint- he's a criminal. He's one of the most notorious racketeers in all of New York," Steve stopped walking.

"So, basically, the Boy Scout wants to go on a little field trip- that's what you're saying?" Clint paused, looking back at Steve.

"No, what he's saying is that we all want to come along," stated Hank, who appeared from around the corner along with Jan and Tony. Clint cocked an eyebrow at the four standing before him.

"Why?"

"Because you're our team mate, stupid," Tony stated matter-of-factly.

"And… I always wanted to go to Mardi Gras!" Jan added. Clint shot her a look, "What?" she asked dismissively.

"You guys cannot come. What if something happens while we're gone?" Clint argued.

"We're leaving Thor, Panther, and Hulk in charge in our absence. Nothing can go wrong."

"But… what if… Well, you guys are gonna stick out like sore thumbs down there. I know this might sound crazy, but most people don't run around in spandex."

"Clint, we do have civilian clothes."

"But it's Mardi Gras, and none of you have costumes."

"I can make masks!" Jan interjected.

"But Barney'll think ya'll're attacking him, and he'll run."

"He doesn't seem the type to run."

"Okay, but he'll still do… something…"

"We'll hang around off to the side. No one will notice we're there."

Clint sighed. "Fine. Get packed and meet down in the jet in fifteen minutes. You're not there, you're not going. I'm thinking spending one night in a hotel, but you may wanna pack for at least three night, just in case" They all nodded, and went their separate ways to pack.


Just short of three hours later, they received clearance to land in the Louis Armstrong Airport.

A half hour after that, they were cruising through New Orleans, the dark of the night obscuring their view, in a rental car Tony had reserved for them the minute they got in the air. Gotta love technology.

Jan, who was completely wiped out from the plane ride- during which she crafted some really spectacular masks for the five of them to wear- and the argument she had with Hank over whether or not the two of them should come along in the first place she had earlier in the evening.

They soon came upon a river, and she noted that a road sign on the light they zoomed by read 'River Road'. That's fitting, she guessed. She looked up to the driver's seat. Clint wasn't looking at directions or anything; he looked pretty much at home here. "Have you been to New Orleans before, Clint? I thought you were from Mississippi."

"Uh, yeah. My hometown's about two hours that way," he said, waving his hand to the left, which she assumed was north. "My pa had family down here, and my ma had a lot of friends who lived here. We came here a lot, and Barney and I continued to come here for Holidays for a while."

They took a right, and then a left. Clint smirked, and said, "To left, you will now see the campus of Loyola University. This is where my mother went to school," he sounded like a tour bus driver.

The street slowly curved, likely following the pattern of the river. Several quick turns later, they pulled up next to a quaint brick building, snug among the other older buildings that joined it. It was old fashioned, with little plant holders full of pink and purple flowers under every window. It looked like it was taken out of a colonial documentation. A little maroon sign read the name of the hotel in fancy curly letters. Clint smiled, and said, "Welcome to the French Quarter, guys."

While the others went ahead to the room Clint had previously reserved for himself, Clint went elsewhere. He told Steve that he wanted to be up and going at about ten the next morning. Steve nodded sleepily and followed the rest into the room and to bed. (Clint, who seemed to have excellent foresight, had reserved a two queen-sized bedroom. Hank and Jan shared a bed- with a lot of pillows separating them- and Tony and Steve shared a bed… though Steve offered to sleep on the floor if Tony was uncomfortable. Tony declined this offer, saying that he was used to having another body with him- it would help him sleep).


Clint quickly found himself in the nearest bar, but not ordering a drink. He was seated at a booth, watching the people around him. He honestly couldn't remember which bar it was that his cousins would always hang out in, but he felt like he recognized this place, so he was going to bet it was here.

A rowdy group of blondes came through the door and took the empty seats at the bar. They ordered their drinks and started talking. Clint checked his watch: 3:44 AM. One of the blondes glanced his way, and quickly looked back at his friend. He leaned in and whispered something to the one next to him, and that blonde also glanced at him. They continued to whisper to each other, and Clint rolled his eyes. Soon, the whole group was talking and glancing at him, although trying to be 'stealthy' about it- they utterly failed at that part.

"Hey, Leon. Long time no see," Clint called.

The one he called to- the first one to notice him- froze mid-sentence. He turned to face Clint and smiled, "Hey. Whut bwrings you down heah, big shot?" he asked, his slight 'r' lisp still evident after all these years, and the others snickered at the little nickname, and Clint rolled his eyes. All six of Uncle Brian's kids- Leon, Sam, Jon, Marta, Sierra, and Mark- never really liked him.

"I was wondering if y'all had some 'festivities' planned for the day. Maybe a little shindig someone in the family's planning?" he asked, leaving his spot at the booth in return for a seat at the bar.

"Well, I guess there's a party going down at the Schneider's farm, but-"

"Well, thank you, Leon. I'll take that to heart. Night, boys." And Clint exited the bar. He didn't want to stick around those creeps too long- he wasn't here to get into fights. Instead, he strolled right back to the hotel, grabbed a pillow and blanket, and settled himself on the couch. He only wanted to make sure that the party was going to be at Barney's home, not off in the gooneys where he'd never find him. Clint knew he's be around here somewhere- Barney loved Mardi Gras- it's just figuring out exactly where that somewhere would be that Clint was worried about. Now that he had that information, he was free to let sleep over take him. Even on a hard and lumpy couch, he was glad to be resting after all the traveling in the last three or four hours, even if he'd only get that much sleep.


A/N K, so not much going on right here... but sometimes, things just don't happen.

I promise that next chappie will be really fun and Barney will be back for a while and yeah. ;) It'll be beautiful.

And let's just say that "Uncle Brian" is Hawkeye's dad's brother, if you didn't guess that.

So... review :3