You all don't know how extremely happy I am to have gotten this back to a normal update , I know you're all ecstatic, looking at that cliffhanger I left you all with last time. Thank you so very much to all of you who have reviewed, alerted and favorited this story, you're all awesome. And I don't know if you noticed, but I definitely noticed that you've all managed to go OVER 200 reviews for this story already. Thank you all for your feedback.
I'm thinking probably two more chapters to wrap this up.
And, looking at your reviews, you were all so worried for Clint after last chapter. Well, at least you don't have to wait that long to find out. So, please enjoy this chapter.
As always, I own nothing.
As Tony drove though the heavy New York traffic back towards the Tower a little under an hour later, he pondered the idea of whether or not his future in-laws had the absolute worst luck in the world. And seeing as that was an accomplishment he typically reserved for Clint, that was saying something.
Both Jack and Marie were seated in the backseat, the older woman looking extremely shaken, while Jack's expression had hardened even more than usual. They were all completely silent, not commenting on what had happened.
As it turned out, the Potts' had gotten fifteen minutes into their walk before they had stumbled onto what turned out to be a drug deal gone wrong. There had been three other witnesses as well, but Jack had been the only one to see the shooter's face during the actual attack. Officers had already picked up Christian Ortega for the crime. What made the whole situation even more fun was that the man was a known presence within the Menendez drug cartel, or so the lead detective on the case had told him.
Tony muttered quietly under his breath as he drove, fighting the urge to sigh. Jack had refused a protective detail, stating that he was well used to being on the bad sides of criminals and that he wasn't going to let this be any different.
Tony could see the worry on Pepper's face, though, and he resolved to find out all he could about the cartel when they got back to the Tower, starting with seeing if Clint or Natasha had ever heard of them, and if that didn't work, sending JARVIS snooping through SHIELD. Even if the police weren't sure whether or not there would be retaliation, he wanted to put Pepper's mind at ease if nothing else.
Plus, Stark Tower was probably the safest building in the city.
Once they did finally get out of traffic and back to the tower, all four went up to the top floor, where JARVIS informed them that the rest of the team was located.
"What happened?" Steve's curious voice met them as soon as the elevator door opened and the two couples stepped out.
"Apparently, they have worse luck than Barton." Tony said shortly, moving over to the bar and leaving Pepper to explain the situation while he poured himself a drink. Once she was done, he looked up to Natasha, expression curious. "Are you familiar with a Menendez? Runs a drug cartel?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly in thought, her tongue clicking quietly as she ran the name through her mind.
"I personally haven't dealt with them, but I'm familiar with the name. Your best bet would be to ask Clint." she said after a few moments, and Tony gave a slight nod, looking up and around, pausing when he saw an air vent that would be easily accessible if he stood on the bar.
"Well, let's see if we can get Featherhead out of his nest." he said lightly, before setting his glass to the side and jumping up onto the bar and reaching for the vent, glad at least part of the tower had a low ceiling. "Just keep in mind that I don't do this professionally like some bow-wielding assassins we know."
"This will not end well." Thor pointed out in a matter of fact voice, and Tony gave a quiet scoff before sticking his head up, looking to the demi-god.
"Thanks for the confidence boost, Point Break." he snorted, looking back up as he poked his head carefully into the duct.
It was cold, drafty, cramped, and almost completely pitch black, and part of him wondered why in the hell Clint would prefer to spend his time up there. He looked to his right, able to see the dim lighting from the next vent down the duct a few yards away.
"Hey, Barton." he called, waiting a few moments and getting no response before he scowled. "I feel like an idiot."
"You look like one."
The sudden voice on his other side surprised him and he almost slipped off the bar in his haste to turn, just barely picking out Clint's stormy blue/gray eyes and the vague outline of his form in the darkness.
"You realize how freaking creepy that is, right Barton?" he quipped pointedly, and he just barely saw the shrug he got in response.
"It's been mentioned." Clint said, not at all sounding fazed. "So what happened?"
"You familiar with a drug cartel headed by a guy named Menendez?" Tony questioned before looking around himself and putting one hand on either side of the vent before beginning to leverage himself up. It was harder than Clint made it look.
"Can you at least try not to kill yourself?" Clint demanded as a growl, reaching forward to help him up and into the duct.
"I can try." Tony grunted, seating himself cross-legged in the duct, the open vent in between him and Clint. "So?"
"Menendez?" Clint asked, continuing once he got the other man's nod of affirmation. "I'm familiar. Last I heard they were small, number wise, but have a pretty wide distribution and multiple suppliers. Also sticklers for in-house loyalty. I'm assuming they witnessed something?"
"Murder, by a man named Christian Ortega." Tony informed him, and the archer gave an impressed blink.
"Menendez's number two. Yeah, they'd better lay low for a while. They're not going to want Ortega put away; especially not for murder. I'm surprised, really. Ortega isn't known for doing his own dirty work." Clint said lightly, and Tony gave a sarcastic smirk.
"Great, that's exactly what I want to tell them." he said, voice carrying the same level of sarcasm as his expression, but Clint just gave another barely visible shrug.
"Hey, man, I'm giving it to you straight." he said and Tony waved him off with a nod.
"I know, I know, thank you." he said hastily, and Clint gave a slight sigh.
"I've got some contacts I can try to get in touch with, alright? I'll see if I can get an idea of what's going on. Depending on the situation, and whether or not he knows the guy's a judge, Menendez might not want to risk it. Just tell them to stay in the tower for a few days, let the waters calm."
"Will do." Tony nodded again, before giving a smirk. "Thanks, Legolas."
"Don't thank me yet. I might not even be able to get in contact with them. And don't go anywhere near SHIELD with this. They're picky with Menendez's operations." the archer informed him and Tony raised an eyebrow.
"What isn't SHIELD picky about?" he asked rhetorically, and Clint gave a slight chuckle of agreement, shaking his head.
"Seriously. Fury will come down on your ass. He has agents in the cartel, long-term. You do anything to jeopardize that, and he will skin you alive. Probably literally."
"Alright, alright." Tony acquiesced, raising his hands in a placating gesture. He then made to move slip out of the vent, only to stop when Clint reached back behind him and brought forward a pillow which he dropped over the vent opening.
The action served to block out most of the light that Tony had been using to see, as well as most likely mask their voices from the others below them. He took that to mean that the archer wasn't done talking, and he wanted it to be somewhat private.
"Do you want lights up here or something?" Tony asked doubtfully, settling himself back in the same position he had been in before, now having to try even harder to pick out Clint's eyes. "And where'd you get the pillow? Are you sleeping up here?"
"Tony." Clint's voice stopped his line of questioning, and the billionaire paused, listening. "About earlier… thank you. What you said, it means a lot." the archer's voice was hard, and hesitant almost, as if he was quite sure he wanted to be saying what he was.
"You don't need to thank me for telling your stubborn ass the truth, Legolas." Tony said casually, though he was slightly surprised by the man's words.
Clint gave a quiet snort before speaking. "And yes, Tony, I sleep in the ducts sometimes."
It was easier to tell the man that he slept in the air ducts sometimes as opposed to telling him that he slept in them when he wasn't quite sure he was safe. Like after a particularly bad nightmare and he wasn't with Natasha. And despite the fact that he hadn't actually slept last night, he had still moved a pile of blankets and his pillow into the ducts.
"Do you understand how odd that is?" Tony asked lightly, and Clint let another quiet chuckle escape before he grabbed his pillow and tossed it back behind him again, where he had grabbed it from what Tony would probably call his 'nest' of blankets.
"Yes, I do. Now get out of my air duct so I can see if I can get a hold of anybody."
"Your air duct?" Tony demanded, though he still scooted forward and dropped his legs though the vent. "I'm pretty sure this is still technically my air duct. Seeing as it is my tower."
"Whatever. You're not going to use it, so it might as well be mine." Clint rolled his eyes, though the older man just shot him a slight glare.
"I'm going to use it like a normal person. For air. Not transportation." he said matter of factly, and the archer snorted.
"You? Normal? Don't make me laugh, Stark."
"Says the bow-wielding assassin sleeping in the air ducts."
"I never tried to say I was normal. You're the one lying to yourself."
"Oh really?" Tony asked, but before he could continue, Pepper's voice came through the vent, sharp and carrying an edge of exasperated amusement.
"Boys!"
"Come on, Pep. He said I wasn't normal. I take that as an insult." Tony protested as he gave Clint a bright smirk before dropping back onto the bar.
"Tony, you're not normal." Pepper said pointedly, and he adopted a mock hurt expression, looking to where she was standing a few feet away from the other side of the countertop.
"Aw, that hurt Pep. That hurt deep." he said, clapping a hand to his chest dramatically as the vent slid sharply shut behind him and there was a soft scuffling above them.
"What did Clint have to say? Other than you two bickering like an old married couple again?" Bruce asked, crossing his arms over his chest defensively at the billionaire's accusing glare.
"My fiancée, and Barton's girlfriend take offense to that comment." Tony said briskly, only to visibly shrink under the strength of Natasha's glare and take a small step back. He then pointedly cleared his throat as Thor chuckled. "Anyway. He said that he is familiar with Menendez, and that Ortega is actually his right-hand man. He's got some people he's going to try to get in touch with, but other than that he advises laying low for a few days at least to let things blow over a bit."
"Well, forgive me for not being instantly reassured by the man in the air ducts." Jack said shortly, and everyone's eyes turned to him in some form of disapproval, while Tony just jumped down from the bar and grabbed his formerly discarded glass.
"Barton likes his distance. And no offense, Jack, but the guy is one of the best assassins in the world. That's not a title obtained easily. He knows what he's talking about." the billionaire said flippantly, before making for the elevator. "Banner! Let's do some science. I was thinking about those designs earlier, and I think I may have an answer to our problem." Tony's voice faded as the two scientists got into the elevator and the doors closed behind them.
Tony didn't spare Jack or Marie Potts another moment of thought until the next afternoon, too busy tinkering on the new weapon with Bruce. They had almost gotten to the testing stages, but Dr. Killjoy, as Tony now referred to Bruce, had insisted that they use at least some precautionary safety procedures. As they set up an area to test the weapon safely, the music paused and JARVIS' voice spoke up, the AI as close to annoyed as it could sound.
'Sir, Mr. Potts is at the door requesting entrance. I have told him that he does not have access to the area, but he is insistent.'
Tony sighed quickly before standing up straight and setting down the tools he was holding on a nearby workbench.
"Let him in this time, JARVIS." he said, sounding somewhat annoyed at the interruption himself.
Bruce stood as well as the door to the lab slid open and Jack walked in, looking around himself with a grudgingly impressed air.
"Assume if you touch it, that it will explode." Tony warned in a flippant tone, wiping his hands off on an already grease-covered rag and watching the older man carefully.
"I thought you didn't make weapons anymore?" Jack asked curiously as he came closer, specifically eyeing what the two men were currently working on.
"I don't make weapons to sell through Stark Industries." Tony corrected, leaning against the work bench and stretching his back. "I make some weapons for myself to use on the Iron Man suit, and very rarely some low-level tech for a top secret government agency. Right now, we're working on the first one. And Bruce is being a stick in the mud and not letting me test it the fun way."
"The 'fun way' could potentially blow out a hole in the tower wall." Bruce said mildly. "And possibly produce some other less than desirable outcomes that could break the rest of the tower walls."
"See?" Tony demanded of Jack, who had now raised both eyebrows in surprise. "Stick in the mud."
"Right." the judge said somewhat doubtfully, and Bruce snorted before looking between Tony and Jack and moving to leave the lab.
"I'm just going to, ah, go get… something. From… my lab." the doctor offered before slipping through the door and leaving the other two men alone.
"So what can I do for you?" Tony questioned easily, moving back towards his desk to retrieve his coffee cup. He scowled slightly when it became apparent that the remaining liquid in the cup had gone cold a long time ago, and he set the mug back down before looking to Jack with an expectantly raised eyebrow.
"So you're going to marry my daughter." the silver-haired man said with a slight sigh after a few long moments, raising his eyes to meet Tony's.
The billionaire held his gaze stubbornly, before taking a seat in the chair at his desk and giving a nod.
"That's the plan, yes. Is this the conversation where you tell me that if I hurt her, you'll shoot me? Because that is definitely not the plan." he said flippantly, and Jack snorted, taking a small step closer to him and crossing his arms over his chest.
"I want to know that you can protect her." the older man said shortly. "Because let's face it son, you have no shortage of enemies, and all you're going to do is make more. What happens when they go after her to get to you?"
Tony instantly stiffened, eyes darkening with poorly masked fear as he responded harshly.
"You think I don't already think about that? That I haven't always thought about that?" he growled, making Jack give a quick blink of surprise. "If it was my choice, she'd be walking around in body armor with six body guards specially trained by our two resident assassins. But she won't do it. She's not afraid; refuses to be." he then gave a slight huff of annoyance, leaning back in his chair. Slowly, he forced his shoulders to relax and hid his emotions from Jack, and giving a dark smirk instead. "But at the same time I pity the dumb bastard that even looks at her funny. Because I will blow them straight into the center of the earth. Or deep space; haven't decided yet."
A few beats of silence stretched between them, Jack's eyes narrowed somewhat as if gauging his sincerity. Then, Tony spoke again, his voice lighter this time.
"I will do anything to make her happy, Jack. And I know I am probably worse than the worst idea your mind came up with for her future husband, but it is what it is, and I hope you can accept that."
The older man grunted quietly before he too relaxed, giving his own smirk.
"You're not that bad, son. I just wanted to make sure you would protect her, because I have a feeling that things can get crazy around here."
"Jack, I could probably redefine crazy for you." Tony corrected, grinning with a slight chuckle, which Jack returned before tilting his head slightly to the side in confusion.
"What did you mean by 'two resident assassins'?" he asked and Tony's grin widened.
"If you tried to insinuate that we kept Romanoff around for her looks, she would kill you with a toothpick." he said innocently, only to sober and stiffen again when Jack's expression hardened again into something akin to disapproval.
"Look, Jack, I get that you're a judge and all, but sometimes, there's some people that just need to be taken out. There is no justice system that would actually do them, or the countless people they've hurt, justice. That is Barton and Romanoff's job."
"And the people that Barton hurt? Before I put him into prison?" Jack demanded gruffly, and Tony gave a quick shake of his head.
"People, lost kids especially, can make bad decisions. I don't pretend to know who Clint was then, or understand why he did what he did. But I don't judge him because he does more than enough of that to himself. What I do know is that he is a good man and the only one I can count on to be able and arguably stupid or brave enough to shoot arrows at aliens and monsters at my back. And just because you keep bringing it up, that doesn't mean you're going to change mine, or anyone else's mind. Truthfully, it's starting to get a little annoying." Tony kept his voice light and airy, once again holding Jack's gaze stubbornly as he spoke.
The older man didn't respond for a few long moments, and Tony just stood with a small shrug and grabbed his coffee cup again before moving for the door and holding it open pointedly for him to exit as well.
Clint, on the other hand, was cocooned in his blankets in the air duct above where Thor and Steve were engaged in a fiercely competitive video game match, reading a book he had borrowed from Natasha's room with the aid of a flashlight. Or at least he was trying to read. All he really ended up doing was thinking about what in the hell he was doing in the air duct instead of perched on the back of the couch and giving his two friends a serious run for their money.
All if his teammates had made it abundantly clear that they had believed what Jack Potts said less than he did. Tony rather forcefully so.
Really, the only reason he had for staying in the ducts was because the last thing he wanted to do was cause tension. Tony, the entire team really, had taken him in even after Loki when pretty much no one had trusted him. He didn't want to repay them for that by causing problems.
He wasn't surprised that as it drew closer and closer to dinner time, the entire team and Pepper converged closer to the kitchen, Tony and Steve starting up the debate of what to have for dinner while Bruce played the ever-patient mediator. He was seriously contemplating joining them before the elevator announced its arrival and Jack and Marie stepped out, hand in hand.
"Marie and I are going out for dinner." Jack announced matter of factly, his expression daring anyone to argue. The rest of the sounds in the room fell silent as everyone turned to look at them.
"Dad, that's really not the best idea." Pepper was the first to protest, standing, but the silver-haired man just responded in the same firm voice.
"I'm not going to be scared into hiding by criminals." he said, and Clint heard himself give a quiet growl, his eyes narrowing.
The man's stubbornness and pride was going to get him and his wife killed, and he liked Pepper too much to let that happen.
None of his old contacts inside Menendez's cartel had still been active, so he was at the point where he either did something himself, or risked letting the couple get hurt.
Muttering to himself furiously as Tony argued beneath him, Clint practically slid towards his room, quickly dropping in. In minutes he had suited up, pulled a black jacket on over his armor and slung his quiver over his back, bow fixed in its slot. He had then taken to a rooftop beside Stark Tower and was just in time to watch Jack and Marie walk out the front doors and down the street, still hand in hand.
Apparently, the rest of the team had been unable to convince them to take someone with them, or not to go at all. A small mercy lie in the fact that they seemed content walking wherever it was they were going as opposed to taking a cab.
The archer kept a careful eye on them as he moved with his typical ease and grace from rooftop to rooftop, occasionally taking to alleyways instead when his route required it. Following people through the shadows was a skill he had perfected long ago, and thus, neither of them noticed that they were being followed. And, the civilian population of New York was blissfully unaware of the dark-clothed man carrying a quiver of arrows on his back and skirting alleys and rooftops.
He watched from the top of a building to the east of the Potts' chosen restaurant as the couple took seats at a window-side table. His vantage point was perfect to watch them, as well as the front and side service doors. Sighing, he laid out flat on his stomach, head resting on his arms that were crossed in front of him. His eyes flicked around the area periodically, well used to the tactics of surveillance and a protection detail.
Their dinner was calm and uneventful, both completely unaware that they were being watched. Granted, he was the good guy in this situation, and hopefully, they'd get back to the tower and not even have to know that they had been followed in the first place.
When they left the restaurant a little over an hour and a half later, Clint stood and stretched quickly before following after them, dropping down onto the fire escape of the building he was on, and then leaping over to a drain pipe of the next building and scaling up it with ease.
They went another four blocks at a leisurely pace back towards the tower before Clint stiffened slightly as he noticed the four men that also seemed to have been following them, eyes locked onto the couples' backs with barely a thought to being discreet in their actions. Frowning and sliding his bow out and into his hand, the archer watched as the group came up beside the Potts' and all but herded them into an alley, though he couldn't quite hear what was being said.
Two more men met them there, the four that had been following them blocking the exit as Jack pulled Marie behind him protectively. With the wind what it was, Clint still couldn't hear Jack's words as he spoke, but the gun that one of the men pulled from his jacket explained more than it needed to about the situation.
Without a moment's hesitation, he jerked his bow open, crouched at the edge of the roof and drew an arrow. A heartbeat later, it had gone completely through the gunman's wrist, rendering the hand useless and causing the gun to drop to the ground. It took Clint exactly 90 seconds to draw and fire five of the electrical impulse arrows Bruce had designed for him, and drop the other men before they could process what had happened to react.
The only one he had left conscious was a little too preoccupied with the arrow sticking out of his wrist, and trying to keep himself quiet to avoid drawing attention to what was happening in the alley, to care about what had happened to his companions.
Jack and Marie too seemed to have been shocked into silence, both unmoving.
Clint then dropped to the ground near the mouth of the alley, so the man had nowhere to run even if he wanted to. He completely ignored the Potts', instead watching as the stocky dark-haired man caught sight of him. Or not him, so much as the bow in his hand and the quiver on his back.
His eyes widened into terror and he backed a few quick steps down the alley. "Oh shit. Oh hell…"
He continued rambling out an almost amusing combination of curses and prayers until Clint cut across him, approaching slowly.
"Oh good. You know who I am. That saves me from having to ask whether or not you actually work for Menendez." he said in an almost bored tone, his expression completely blank of any expression other than a dangerous coldness.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about." the man stammered quickly, but Clint just snorted before clearing the space between them in half a second and slamming the man back into one of the alley's side walls, the one opposite the one Jack had Marie huddled against. He then held one forearm across the other man's throat and pulled an arrow with his free hand, bow having gone over his shoulder.
"You're lying to me." the archer said calmly, twirling the arrow in a dangerous fashion well within the man's line of sight. He squirmed slightly but didn't dare try to move. "Do it again, and I'll put this through your heart."
The man's eyes went impossibly wider, flicking to meet Clint's gaze as if to gauge his sincerity and almost instantly looking away with a gulp at the cold detachment his eyes exhibited.
"Look, Menendez just told us to keep a watch out for 'em, and to keep 'em from talking about Ortega if they showed up." the man said, tripping over his words in his haste to speak and shying away from Clint as much as he could.
"Is Menendez in town?" Clint demanded shortly, eyes narrowing when the man hesitated, shifting again.
"H-he'll kill me. I… I can't" he protested, but the archer just gave a dark snort.
"Him you can run and hide from. Me? I will kill you." Clint said, no change to his tone at all, and still not a single flicker of emotion breaking through his mask.
That was all it took to have the man rattle off an address and apartment number for an apartment building in Manhattan.
"Thank you for your cooperation." the archer said once he'd committed the information to memory, and as he slid the arrow back into his quiver. He reached instead for the button on his bow to load an impulse arrow instead, allowing a dark smirk to grace is features as the man sagged against his hold in relief.
In the next moment, he was on the ground, twitching and unconscious but alive. Clint put the arrow back into his quiver, as well as crouching to twist off the head of the one that had gone through his wrist so he could pull it out easier and collect it as well.
"To be honest, this is why I said to lay low in the first place." he said mildly as he turned back to Jack and Marie, who were now staring at him, dumbstruck.
"Barton?" Jack demanded, his tone a mixture of relief, disbelief, and wariness.
"You're welcome." Clint continued as if the man hadn't spoken, crouching to collect his arrows from the other men as well as making sure they were all still unconscious. He didn't want to leave any evidence of his presence because he didn't want this little encounter tied back to him, or SHIELD.
"How did you even know where we were?" Jack continued to question as he wrapped his arms around a visibly shaken Marie and pulled her close.
"I've been following you since you left the tower. Which you need to get out of here and get back to before any of these guys regain consciousness." Clint said shortly, standing fully and looking to Jack as the judge's eyes surveyed the downed men around them.
"You mean they aren't…" he trailed off uncertainly and the archer gave a snort.
"Dead? No. Electrical impulse strong enough to knock them out for a while. Maybe pee themselves. Nothing life threatening. Now you two get going; do yourselves a favor and take a cab." Clint all but ordered, not in the mood to sit around and wait for these guys to wake up, because as soon as they did, they would call Menendez, and he would lose his window.
"What are you going to do?" Marie asked, her voice still carrying an edge of fear that made Clint's expression soften as he gave her a short, reassuring nod.
"I'm going to take care of this."
He watched as the pair went back out to the street and waved down a cab, the car taking off in the direction of the tower after they had gotten in. Pepper's parents safe, he then made his way back up to the roof of the building he'd been on before and took a quick look around before heading in the direction of the address the man had given him.
Twenty minutes later, he was crouched behind an air conditioning unit, glaring through a huge wall-sized window in the upscale apartment building across the street. Luckily, it hadn't been a hard place to find, and even better, Menendez was actually in the room behind the window into his apartment.
Eddie Menendez was sitting behind an office desk in the room, giving a woman that was probably his wife a kiss goodnight. This wasn't the base of operations for the man's cartel. No, this was the man's private home. A place that was probably thought of as a sanctuary for himself and his family.
And Clint was about to completely shatter that notion.
He picked up the arrow he'd already prepared and notched it into his bow, taking careful aim through the window. The glass shouldn't be a problem, considering the strength of the force behind one of his arrows, and that the sharp arrowhead was wider than the fletching on the other end of the shaft so that the entire weapon could pass through the hole that was made, undeterred.
Letting out a long breath, Clint fixed his aim, waited for Menendez's wife to leave the room, and loosed the arrow.
True to its aim, it crashed through the glass and imbedded itself into the wall only inches to the right and behind Menendez's head. The man jumped in shock at the sound, but Clint didn't wait to see the reaction to the arrow that had so narrowly gone past his head, or the note that had been wrapped around the shaft.
It wasn't often that his arrows carried a symbolic purpose as opposed to a deadly one.
The note was short and to the point. Either Menendez left the witnesses to Ortega's crime alone – all of them – or his next arrow wouldn't be aimed at something silly like a wall. He had signed it with an almost comical sketch of a hawk, but Menendez would understand.
Hell, an arrow alone would have been enough to plant sufficient fear into the cartel leader's mind, but that didn't exactly convey his purpose, thus the note had been necessary.
By the time he got back to the tower, he was cold and beginning to feel the edges of exhaustion, not having gotten much sleep last night either, and seeing as he had been sprinting around the city by the rooftops. As such, he actually decided to use the elevator as opposed to shimmying though the air ducts. Besides, seeing as he'd just saved the guy's life, he and Jack were probably due for some conversation, tension or not.
He blinked slightly in surprise when the elevator doors opened, only to reveal an almost angry looking Pepper Potts waiting for him.
"You followed my parents?" she demanded, and Clint raised an eyebrow and cast a quick glance to Tony who stood slightly behind her. The billionaire made a quick hand motion that the archer took to mean 'just go with it', so he gave a slight shrug and nodded.
"I did." he said simply, taking a small step out of the elevator so the doors could close. "If he was going to be stubborn and stupid, I wasn't going to let him get them both killed for it. If I was wrong and Menendez wasn't planning on trying to keep them quiet, they never would have even known I was there. As it was, they kind of noticed me when I knocked the six guys going after them unconscious. The impulse arrows work fantastic by the way." he added the last tidbit in to Bruce who gave a smile and a nod.
Turning back to Pepper, he was slightly surprised when she simply took two steps forward and hugged him tightly. His body stiffened automatically at the invasion of his personal space, but he forced himself to relax and return it with one arm, his expression softening when he felt that she was shaking.
"I took care of it, Pepper, I promise." he told her reassuringly, nodding to Tony as he mouthed something along the lines of 'Thank God'.
"What did you do, Clint?" Natasha asked sharply from where she sat with the rest of the team, along with Jack and Marie on the couches a few yards away.
"I didn't kill anybody." the archer gave a wry smirk as Pepper let him go and took a small step back, murmuring a quiet thank you. "I sent a message. Menendez will understand; we're somewhat acquainted."
"Comforting." Bruce said mildly from where he sat as Clint moved into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that was miraculously already made.
"Isn't it?" he asked sarcastically some of the darkness leaving his eyes as he grinned at the doctor while Thor and Tony chuckled and Natasha and Steve shared an amused glance, before grabbing his cup, raiding the pantry for a box of cereal and retreating into his room.
...And we're back to Clint being a BAMF. It was fun, very fun, to write. No cliffhanger this time, guys. Also, more coming about Eddie Menendez and Clint's connection to him coming in the next chapter. If you can, I'm always willing to hear what all you readers have to think, so drop me a review.
~Dogstar