Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any of the characters in the story except Le Roux and his henchmen. If I did, there would totally be a Hawkeye/Black Widow movie in the works.
Author's Note: While I embrace constructive criticism remember this old saying if you choose to leave a review "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all"
Thanks to all reviewers and readers! Don't forget to do the poll on my profile page to choose what story I tackle next!
Enjoy!
Last time:
She pressed a kiss onto his lips but pulled back after a moment.
"Не вы его забудете, я очень сексуальная ястреба." She purred before kissing him again.
Don't you ever forget it, my very sexy hawk.
You must trust and believe in people or life becomes impossible- Anton Chekhov
"Tacos!" Steve voted.
"Hamburgers!" Bruce countered.
"Pizza." Tony tossed out.
"Spaghetti!" Pepper added eagerly.
"Chicken Parmesan." Natasha purred, sidling up next to Clint and stroking her fingers down his cheek seductively, her eyes promising more.
"Chicken Parmesan it is." Clint decided with a smirk.
"Ah…cheating…" Tony argued, looking offended. "If I sleep with you, will you cook what I want?"
The look Clint gave him was chilling.
"What about me?" Pepper smiled.
Clint laughed lightly and moved to the fridge. Tony turned a betrayed look on her.
"What? He makes really good spaghetti." She shrugged, snagging a piece of cheese off the cutting board.
"Why do I feel like our votes didn't even matter?" Bruce wondered aloud to Steve.
"Because they didn't…" Steve sighed. "I bribed Natasha to choose chicken parmesan before we came in." He revealed in a low whisper. Bruce stared at him in shock.
"That's…brilliant." Bruce laughed. "What did it take?"
"I'm not giving away my secret." Steve shook his head. "Way too valuable."
Clint was just starting to prepare the chicken, Natasha perched on the counter beside him, when Jarvis announced a visitor. They all looked up in time to see Fury stride in.
"Avengers." He greeted, folding his hands behind his back.
"Jarvis, I thought I told you to get all visitors cleared through me before you let them in." Tony scolded.
"He was on the preapproved list."
"What preapproved list?" Tony demanded.
"The one Ms. Potts created."
"Pepper." Tony shot her a wounded look.
"I had to make sure you couldn't get mad and lock any of them out just to be spiteful." She shrugged, unrepentant.
"That shows very impressive forethought." He praised after a moment's hesitation.
"Well you didn't make me CEO for nothing." She replied dryly.
"Actually..." Tony started, but the Captain interrupted him.
"What can we do for you, Director Fury?" Steve asked.
"I need to speak with Agent Barton and then with Agent Romanoff."
"Mission?" Bruce wondered already feeling the other guy's disappointment.
Fury nodded once.
"Barton?" He turned and walked out of the room, clearly expecting to be followed. Clint wiped his hands on a towel and with a look tossed at Natasha, strode after him.
Clint waited as Fury looked out the window of the living room. The man would brief him when he was ready and Clint was very patient. He leaned casually against the wall, fully prepared to wait the man out. Fury didn't keep him waiting long.
"I told you I had a mission for you in South Africa." Fury finally began.
"You mentioned it." Clint confirmed, tilting his head to the side curiously.
"It's a matter of national security." Fury continued, "Ricardo Le Roux…you know him?"
"Black market arms dealer…very good at his job..." Clint nodded knowingly, "he's become a problem?"
"A big one."
"Interpol's been trying to nail his ass to the wall for years, but they've never had anything legitimate to run with...why are we suddenly involved?" Clint wondered.
"Scuttlebutt is they've got a weapon that's going to change the face of war…I need you to get down there…and eliminate the weapon and Le Roux."
"Sanctioned hit?" Clint's eyebrows rose. "Interpol's okay with that?"
"National leaders held a video conference...you've been unanimously cleared for the hit." Fury nodded.
"What's the weapon?"
"We're not exactly sure." Fury shook his head.
Clint stared hard at him.
"You're lying."
"That information isn't concrete by a long shot, Barton. You're better off without a preconceived idea."
"Don't bullshit me, Fury…not after what happened in Libya." Clint's tone hardened.
Fury sighed, meeting his agent's eyes steadily.
"We don't know much…we've heard something about an energy weapon of some kind."
"Trying to replicate HYDRA?"
"Maybe…we don't know…so proceed with an air of caution."
"Always do." Clint smirked.
Fury hummed doubtfully, holding out a folder.
"Romanoff coming or am I flying solo?" Clint questioned as he thumbed through the mission briefing. He'd memorize the details later.
"Neither."
Clint looked up, surprised.
"What's that?"
"SHIELD has hired a consultant, premiere in the field of weapons development."
Clint frowned.
"Oh no…no way am I going on a mission with Stark."
"He's a weapons expert, Barton, he'll be useful."
"He'll be in the way…I'm stealth operative…he's…he's Iron Man." Clint scoffed. "He's not exactly known for his subtlety."
"The decision is final, Agent Barton."
"Fury…send anyone else with me…like Cap, why not send Steve? Or Bruce?"
"It's Director Fury, Agent," Fury snapped, "And Captain Rogers will be acting as back up for Agent Romanoff. And taking a man with stress issues and a split personality into an arms dealer's base of operations is not a recipe for success."
So maybe Bruce hadn't been the best suggestion. Clint admitted if only to himself. Instead, he focused on another point of interest.
"Tasha's got a mission too?" Clint frowned.
"Why the hell else do you think I'm not sending her with you?" Fury pointed out in frustration. Clint sighed. That made sense he supposed. It didn't mean he had to like it, though.
"Where's she going?"
"Classified."
"We talked about the bullshitting...Besides, she's just going to tell me later."
"Kiev." He revealed with a sigh, "Not that I needed to be reminded of the highly unprofessional relationship between the two of you."
Clint's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, ignoring the subtle reprimand. He sifted through the rumors he'd heard through his contacts in the last several months. There's only one name that would matter enough to SHIELD to send Natasha.
"Danko surfaced, didn't he?"
Fury nodded. Clint sighed again. Natasha had been itching to take that guy down ever since Argentina 4 years ago.
"Fine."
"Well now that you approve." Fury deadpanned.
Clint rolled his eyes.
"When do I leave?"
"You and Stark fly out of the Northern New York base at 0400."
"Well then…I've got Chicken Parmesan to make and a mission to prep for." Clint turned to leave.
"Agent Barton."
The tone of Fury's voice had him wondering if he'd been a little too insubordinate this go around. He'd gotten away with it with Phil around to buffer.
"I've made certain allowances for your attitude, given your unique circumstance…"
Again with the "unique circumstance" bullshit. Clint scowled.
Fury took measured steps towards him.
"Just because I make the allowance of holding this briefing outside of SHIELD headquarters in deference for the current opinion that surrounds you at SHIELD,"
So Fury knew about all the traitor talk then. Super.
"Does not mean you should carry yourself as anything less than a SHIELD operative under my direct command…is that understood?"
Clint waited a beat, his own measure of defiance, before answering.
"Yes sir." He nodded.
"Dismissed…send Romanoff in."
Clint turned again and left.
Fury watched him go with a sigh. He'd thought Coulson was crazy when he'd brought him a file on a bow wielding mercenary barely old enough to vote. That opinion had only been compounded when he'd met the smart ass kid. But Barton's record spoke for itself, the man was scarily good at his job, even if he tended to be unprofessional at times. In the past, he'd made allowances for Phil's sake; he had been inexplicably fond of the kid. Now he made those allowances because Barton was Phil's greatest legacy. He couldn't risk him ever walking away from the agency, and not just because him working for anyone but them would be disastrous, as proven by Loki.
But damn it if that kid didn't drive him up the wall sometimes.
"You knew about the mission?" Clint accused Tony once Natasha had left to be briefed for her mission.
"Fury may have called me a few hours ago." Tony shrugged. "He said not to tell you."
"Since when do you do what Fury tells you?" Clint shot back.
"Since I didn't want you pestering me for details I didn't have until he got here." Tony replied easily.
Clint scowled, moving back to the chicken.
"We'll go over the file on the flight, be ready to leave here at 0300."
"That's what time in real people speak?" Tony wondered.
"3:00am." Steve supplied when it looked like Clint might throw the knife he was cutting the chicken with towards the billionaire.
"That's just criminal." Tony frowned. "I counter with 9:00am."
"2:30." Clint replied with an arched eyebrow.
Tony frowned.
"8:45."
"2:00."
"3:00 it is then."
Natasha glanced up from her mission brief. Her fiery hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she was sitting cross-legged against Clint's headboard in a pair of his boxers and a black tank top. The bed's owner was next to her, on his back with his legs propped against the length of the headboard. He had two pillows stacked under his bare shoulders and his right arm curled behind his head. He casually flipped to the next page in the brief where it was propped on his lap with his left hand. She watched him absently scratched the scar on his side from the Williams ordeal. In light of the stab wound on his back, the simple, but deep, slice along his side had seemed inconsequential.
It mattered to her, though. The scars on his body told the story of his life. The majority of them were from missions. Some she'd been there for, some she hadn't. There were others from his heartbreaking final encounter with his brother Barney, the most noticeable being a two inch stab wound on the right side of his chest. That scar was white with age and he'd only told her about it once, in Vietnam. There were still more scars, from past abuses he wouldn't talk about but to say they were why he and Barney ran away from the orphanage.
All of his scars told a story. A story about how he became who he was. She was proud to be part of many of those stories, just as he was part of many of hers. It made parting with him now, after such an important addition to his story, harder. What new story was he going to get in South Africa, what story would she get in Kiev?
"I don't like this." She stated suddenly.
It took a second for his attention to divert from the brief to her. His eyebrows rose in confusion.
"What's wrong?"
"Me in the Ukraine and you in South Africa."
"We've been on separate missions before." He reminded, reaching up to rub his left eye. He yawned, glancing at the clock. He had to meet Stark in the garage in two hours.
"Not so soon after you've been hurt."
"It was three months ago, Tash." He cocked an eyebrow. "You doubting me?" He asked, a little hurt.
"No." She sighed. "It's just…I'd gotten used to it again…"
"I know." He assured, bouncing his fisted left hand against her knee. "I don't like it any more than you do…but with Danko turning up after four years, you can't pass this up."
"I know." She sighed. "I just wish you could be there with me...you were in Argentina too."
"I wasn't the one he captured and tortured...besides this thing in South Africa is a matter of National Security." He mimicked Fury, tapping his file.
She smiled, playing with the tips of his fingers as she thought.
"Do you think Fourie will come after you?" She asked quietly. Clint sighed. He'd been wondering the same thing.
"He shouldn't even know I'm there...the mission is classified."
"So was the first one."
"I screwed that one up."
"No you didn't...your contact screwed you over...there's a difference."
"Either way," He sighed, "I'm not planning on any run ins with Fourie...I'll stay low profile."
"With Iron Man in toe? Good luck." She teased with a laugh.
"Don't remind me." Clint huffed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. This time it was Natasha that glanced at the clock.
"You should get some sleep." She advised, pulling his file from his lap and tossing it on the bedside table.
"Why don't we do something else until I have to leave?" He smirked, taking her file and tossing it on top of his.
"Clint." She scolded, though she was smiling and didn't make any effort to retrieve her file.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her, unresisting, on top him.
Clint grabbed his black jacket and leaned over the bed, brushing a kiss across Natasha's temple.
"Будьте безопасны, мой огненный паук." He whispered. Be safe my fiery spider.
She shifted in her sleep and he quietly moved away, slipping his quiver over his shoulder and grabbing his duffle and bow. He'd pick up his custom modified M-24 sniper rifle on his way to meet Tony.
"Стрелять прямо, мой ястреб."
He turned back at the door when her soft voice floated across the room. Shoot straight, my Hawk.
"Всегда." He whispered back. He watched her blink at him through the darkness and offered her a small smile before disappearing out the door.
Always.
"Be careful, okay, Tony…don't do anything dangerous." Pepper instructed as she followed him around their room while he gathered his things.
"Pepper, I'm going into South Africa on a super secret spy mission with like the ultimate super secret spy…I can pretty much guarantee it'll be dangerous." He replied as he compared watches in the mirror.
"The black one." She chose for him. "But you'll have Clint with you; he's more experienced in this type of thing…"
"Super secret spying? Yeah I'd say so." Tony spoke over her. She continued on undeterred.
"…so follow his lead and do whatever he says."
"Do you think the Top Gun look?" He slipped on a pair of Ray Ban aviator sunglasses. "Or Iron Man?" He switched to the black and red checkered Von Zippers he'd been wearing when Fury had dragged him into this whole mess.
"Tony, they're sunglasses."
"You're right, I should keep it pure." He agreed as if she'd suggested a choice. He slid the black and red glasses up to rest in his hair.
"It's 3 o'clock in the morning…there's no sun." She pointed out.
"But there will be eventually and the boy scouts had that thing about preparation going for them." He replied as he moved past her to pick up his duffle bag and the Iron Man case. Having an easily portable suit had become very handy.
"Tony!" She snapped.
"Pepper, I'll be fine…like you said, I've got super spy going with me…"
"Just be careful."
"Fine…don't let Thor touch anything expensive when he gets back…and if you start seeing green anywhere, shoot Bruce with one of the tranq guns you'll find hidden in every room of this place." He advised, moving towards the door.
"You have tranquilizers in every room?" Her eyes widened.
"Yeah…Bruce's idea…don't tell the other guy."
"Right…" She kissed him lightly, "Be-"
"Careful…yeah I-I got that part." He sobered a little under the weight of her gaze.
"You'll call when you land." She instructed firmly.
"I was going to say that…" He defended as if she'd stolen the words out of his mouth. "Bye, Pepper." He kissed her once more and walked out of the room.
"Bye, Tony." She whispered after him.
"So I was thinking we should get a theme song." Tony stated by way of greeting as he walked out of the elevator promptly at 3:01.
Clint was leaning against his black Ducati. He didn't respond to Tony as he turned and threw his leg over his bike.
"Something intense with a wicked beat…you know?" Tony continued unperturbed as he moved over to his own gold and hot rod red motorcycle. He pulled on his matching helmet as Clint kicked back his kick stand.
"I'm leaning towards the classics…Black Sabbath…AC/DC…Metallica…stop me if something strikes your fancy." Tony continued, toeing his own kickstand out of the way.
Clint revved his engine to life.
"So we're just gonna do a whole not talking thing right now?" Tony questioned, watching as Clint accelerated out of the garage. "Well this ought to be fun." He sighed flipping down his visor, revving his own engine, and following.
Maria Hill met them in the parking garage. Tony was pulling off his helmet and Clint was swinging his leg over his bike.
"So the fact that you're knee pretty much kissed the asphalt doesn't faze you…did you race motorcycles in your ever so cryptic past…or did they teach you how to drive like that in circus school?"
Clint ignored Tony as he unstrapped his duffle, gun, and bow from the back of his bike. He tossed Maria a look that stated, "This is what you guys are making me put up with." She shrugged without sympathy.
That figured.
"Is there a reason we had to get her faster than our headlights? Because I could have just gotten up earlier."
"I figured you wouldn't mind it a little fast and furious, Stark…was I wrong?" Clint finally acknowledged him, a smirk upturning his lips.
"No." Tony immediately defended his thirst for adrenaline. "A little warning is usually customary in these type of situations...just a thought for next time."
"Sure." Clint's look was so patronizing, Tony was sure his mother felt insulted. He had to admit, if only silently to himself, that he was impressed with the archer's ability to convey so much with just a look.
Maria cleared her throat to get their attention. She arched an eyebrow when she got twin looks of innocence.
"What did you do to get stuck with graveyard duty?" Clint asked as they followed her towards the hangar.
"The Director personally asked me to see you two off…and to remind you that this is a matter of National Security."
"Yeah…it said that in the brief…about 17 times." Clint frowned, giving her a deeply assessing look. Maria cleared her throat and continued on, pointedly ignoring him.
"About 17?" Tony questioned. "Nobody says about 17…they say about 15 or about 20…17 is a very specific number…" Tony paused, "Oh my god, you memorized the entire brief." He realized with a laugh.
"You didn't?" Clint challenged with a cocky smirk, following Maria into the hangar. Tony stood standing in the hallway for a moment. He smiled before following them.
"You have a photographic memory, don't you?" He questioned.
When Clint ignored him, he kept going, thinking out loud.
"No…you've got to have more than just a photographic memory given your extensive and I must say marginally impressive experience with heavy machinery like jets and such…and then there's your propensity for mathematics and physics, I mean you are a sniper after all and I would imagine the calculations become even more complicated when using your bow…photographic memory, excellent procedural memory, math, physics…what is your IQ? 125? 130?"
"141." Clint answered easily as he walked around their quinjet with the pilot. Maria stayed standing with Stark.
"Damn." Stark breathed. That was fairly impressive.
"Surprised?" Clint cocked an eyebrow at him as he leaned down to look at him beneath the jet's wing.
"Intrigued with a hint of impressed."
"Should I be insulted?"
"Only marginally…I suppose it was to be expected for someone of your particular…skill set."
"And what is your IQ Stark? 160? 165?" Clint asked as he continued to circle the jet.
"163." He stated proudly. "Lucky guess."
"Just know how to read people." Clint corrected as he finished the inspection. "Is there a reason I can't just fly us myself?" He asked Maria, his mind back on the mission. He glanced at the pilot, "No offense."
The pilot shrugged as if he didn't care one way or another.
"Director Fury wants you to use every possible moment preparing for the mission...he asked that I remind you to proceed with an air of caution."
"What aren't you telling me, Hill?" Clint frowned at her.
"You will be working directly with the Base Operator of the South African SHIELD base, they will providing both insertion and extraction." Maria went on as if he hadn't spoken. She purposefully didn't meet his eyes.
"Hill." He stated more firmly. "If there's mission relevant information and the Director doesn't share, I'm going to be more pissed off than Phil was after Libya." He warned. She sighed meeting his eyes fleetingly.
"It's just some rumors." She admitted finally.
"What rumors?" A dark thought struck him, "Fourie?"
"Not that I know of." She assured. "Just some rumors that there might be a leak in South Africa."
"Is the mission compromised?"
"No reason to expect so...the Base Operator is playing it close to the chest...but proceed with-"
"An air of caution...right." Clint sighed deeply. "And if something goes wrong? We can't trust anyone there."
"The Director figured that in the event of an emergency, you'll figure something out." She replied with a meaningful look at Tony.
"She means because I'm Iron Man…I can fly." Tony pointed out helpfully.
"Right." Clint narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. "And what if something happens to Tin Can and he can't fly us out."
"What's going to happen to me?" Tony frowned. "Are you plotting something…I think he's plotting something," Tony muttered to the pilot. "See that shifty look in his eyes…shifty…what do you say you and me blow this joint and go get a beer, let Big Bird handle this."
"By all means." Clint approved heartily.
"Barton." Maria snapped, "Stark…get going." She motioned them towards the jet.
"Fine." Tony huffed, stalking on board and falling into one of the seats.
Clint rolled his eyes towards the heavens, swore under his breath in Russian, and moved to follow him.
"Barton." Maria stopped him. He arched an eyebrow expectantly, "Watch your back...you and South Africa..." she trailed off meaningfully.
He nodded, appreciating her concern.
Him and South Africa. Yeah...black market arms dealer, a possible leak, a bad history with the country, and Stark…
This should be fun.
End of Chapter 3
Reviews make me happy!
Remember I have a poll on my profile page to decide what story I do next! Go cast a vote! :)
Here's your preview!
"Stark, this is HYDRA technology! It's not supposed to exist anymore! Steve brought down all of their bases himself over 70 years ago!" Clint snapped. "I have to find where they moved their base to."
"And how do you suggest we do that, Big Bird? Ask nicely?"