Alright, so I started writing this like three different times and hated it each time. Then today in the middle of my Philosophy class, I finally found how I wanted it to go. So here you go, to the detriment of my grades….
Hope you like it!
Don't forget to review! Pretty please!
Everyone always assumes it's exciting to be a covert operative. Secret meetings, explosions, firefights, cool fight moves and gadgets. All that James Bond shit.
In reality, it involved a lot of waiting. Waiting for a meeting, information, opportunity, waiting for a mark to make a mistake or to be in just the right place, surveillance, extraction. Seriously, like ninety percent of the job was merely waiting around.
Sit and wait.
Clint was pretty damn good at it. At least while he was on a job, the rest of the time it seemed his mind liked to make up for all the hours of complete focus with severe ADHD that drove Maria Hill up the wall. She even pulled a gun on him once because he wouldn't sit still…
true story.
There was still about another hour before the extraction team was due to arrive, so for some crazy reason he decided to spend it far above civilization waiting for…well he wasn't sure
More than likely the woman would take care of business quickly and quietly and he'd be none the wiser to what went down or if she even survived it.
But then again, for two people who are the best in the business, nothing about the last 48 hours was going smoothly for either of them.
She certainly wasn't a friendly, but he no longer thought of her as the enemy. He didn't know much of her story, but he was kinda starting to root for her. She wasn't too much younger than him, but for as long as she'd been one SHIELD's radar, she had to have started young. Too young.
It couldn't have been her choice and that alone made him want to jump into the fray and help her deal a painful blow to whoever had done it to her. He was pretty sure she would laugh in his face if he ever expressed the sentiment.
Darkness settled in around him. It was a cool, clear night. The kind meant for romance and falling in love; instead a dark foreboding vibe seemed to hang in the air. It was like a taking deep breathe before plunging into icy cold water.
Something was about to happen and it wasn't going to be pretty. It was a gut feeling but he tended to be right about these things.
He had to get back to the safe house. Now.
He arrived on the roof across the street from the safe house just as three identical black SUVs pulled up outside (real original guys) each delivering four goons to the safe houses doorstep.
Without hesitation, Clint nocked an explosive arrow and let it fly for one of the vehicles.
The noise ought to be enough of a warning for the agent inside to get Liev the fuck out.
One guy managed to get himself pinned beneath the car and was screaming in agony. That had to suck. Too bad it hadn't taken more of them out of commission, one down eleven to go. One of the others turned a gun on him to shut him up.
Real nice guys
Four of them moved to enter the building where he was currently perched. He swiftly took out one of them, but had to duck for cover as a hailstorm of bullets came his way before he could take out the rest.
There was a brief break in the gunfire that resumed as soon as he popped up to quickly let off another explosive arrow. As he ducked back down in to cover, the roof door behind him burst open.
Oh right, forgot bout you guys for a minute there.
They opened fire on him, forcing him to dive and roll for cover; a rather painful maneuver with an unforgiving high tech metal quiver on one's back. What a great way to solve a problem. Let's just keep firing bullets at it till it goes away. Seriously did any of these guys have any tact or finesse?
It's just point and shoots with these guys, real professionals. Clint scoffed.
They were probably only hired thugs who only dealt with people who didn't give much of a fight. Against a highly trained professional operative, they weren't too much of a problem and they soon were reduced to corpses at his feet. These kind of goons were only employed as distractions by professional operatives.
The gunfire from the street had ceased, and he looked down to find Natasha, the deadly Black Widow, brutally cutting down the remainder of the goons without much difficulty.
She really was quite beautiful in the middle of a graceful and deadly dance; it was no wonder so many men had fallen prey to her beauty. She was enchanting even as she mercilessly slaughtered a handful of men who never stood a chance.
Only two were left now that he could see. She stopped to stare down one of them, warily keeping her distance. The man from the Hotel; the one she had kept him from attacking. Mr. scares-Natasha-and-therefore-terrifies-the-shit-out-of-Clint
Fuck.
The man off to her side rushed her, distracting her momentarily as she dispatched him to the next world and giving Mr. scary just to opportunity he needed to get the jump on her. He disarmed her and dealt a painful blow to the stomach.
She recovered quickly and retaliated with a powerful kick to the guy's side, and they were quickly engulfed in a terrifying dance. Natasha was just barely managing to hold her own, and this time she wasn't allowing it to happen like she had when she fought Clint the other night. She was fighting tooth and nail, pulling out all the stops.
At one point she leapt into the air, catching his neck between her thighs, she brought him to the ground and neatly landed on her feet ready to strike again.
Now that was cool.
The guy wasn't down for long, and was quickly back to pressing her defences.
Nocking an arrow, Clint carefully took aim. Back muscles tensed, wire pulled taut, exhaled slowly. He waits for the perfect moment…now!
He relaxed his hand and lets the arrow fly to strike a perfect kill shot, clean through the eye-but Natasha gets in the way as she struggled to best her opponent, pushing him out of the perfect alignment with death. The arrow sliced through the meat of arm and embedded itself in the guy's shoulder.
Man, they just love to screw each other up.
She grunted in pain and the man in howled in anger, turning a fearsome glare toward Clint. Clint let out a stream of curses as he took aim once again. Natasha doesn't miss a beat. Taking advantage of the guy's momentary distraction, she seized the arrow, gave it a vicious twist and delivered a kick to the guys abdomen, sending him sprawling while simultaneously ripping out the arrow.
The attack gives her just enough time to shout something to Clint before the guy is on her once again and Clint can't get a clean shot.
He couldn't hear what she shouted, but he got the idea. She wants him to get to Liev, to keep him alive. He is reluctant to leave her without any help, but the information the guy has is far too important. Begrudgingly he fires a line between the two buildings and quickly slides across.
He found Liev and the rookie SHIELD agent pinned down in the alley behind the building by two goons. Without much thought, Clint smoothly took out one of the assailants and was lining up his next shot when suddenly he found himself knocked on his ass.
He didn't think, just reacted, regaining his feet and taking aim on his attacker. But they were too fast, getting in close and wrenching his bow to the side causing the arrow fly harmlessly by.
Briefly he thinks it is Natasha, but this one is all raven hair, blue eyes, and a lot less curves.
Where the hell did she come from?
She gave the bow a swift twist, attempting to break his grasp and delivered a vicious knee to his man bits.
Ah hell, that just ain't right.
He reacts with a head butt, giving him enough space to take a deep breath in an attempt to cope with the ungodly pain.
She's on him again in a flash, knocking him over the edge of the roof.
Clint will later think that it's pretty damn impressive that he managed not only to keep ahold of his bow, but also had enough of his mind still working to pull and arrow to fire off a rope. The arrow didn't hold, pulling out of the wall as it took his weight, but it slowed him just enough to save his life.
He landed hard on his back, on top of his afore mentioned sucks-to-land-on quiver, knocking the wind out him. Groaning in agony, he opens his eyes to the upside down image of a wide-eyed rookie frozen in shock.
Worst. Day. Ever.
Suddenly Natasha is standing over him, glancing quickly over him to take stock of his injuries and then turning her attention to the roof from which he fell.
He managed to get himself to his knees. The movement is painful and makes him woozy, so he stills his movements in an attempt to quell the sensation.
Natasha is barking something to the agent and Liev, but she sounds distant and he can't make out what she's saying. Then she is suddenly very close to him hauling him to his feet, and as ridiculous as it is, all he can think about is how very pleasant she smells.
Then gunshots ring out cutting through the fog in his head and bright red blood spatters across Natasha's ivory skin.
Liev falls like a stone to the ground, a hole in his head and lifeless eyes staring into the distance. The agent crumples as well, falling against a wall; trying uselessly to staunch a gushing stomach wound.
Clint barely has time to register the horror, the first pure untainted emotion he's ever seen from her, that distorts Natasha's face before darkness swallows him up.