Wow, guys, I never get reviews! I wasn't expecting to get this one up so fast, but the general positive response has forced my hand. Enjoy!
Breaking in to set his bow and quiver was ridiculously easily. He climbed back out the window, then went around front to meet Agent. They smiled and shook hands, using their cover as wealthy art collectors to survey the gala. Clint was the first to spot the target, on the ballroom floor below. A very sexy blue dress, the same dark hair & eyes, the correct portions- there was no doubt. Silently, they split up and did a quick reconnaissance for backup. Finding none, Clint clasped his hands behind his back as he walked away, and could practically feel Agent nod and set off to do his job.
Hawkeye was in place before the target was. He clicked the dial on his quiver that would click the trick arrowhead into place, then pulled the arrow out and set it on the string, waiting. His eyes never left the balcony. The hall was drafty and cold, but Hawkeye didn't shift. He kept his ears pricked, but his focus didn't waver.
It was taking too long. Hawkeye fought the urge to stand up, to go back and find out what was happening. Either Agent could do his job or he couldn't; to leave now would jeopardize the whole mission. He couldn't help thinking that if Natasha had been his partner, he wouldn't need to be nervous.
He smothered his relief when Agent opened the French doors and handed the target through. He took one breath, measuring the distance, wind, force, angle. Two shots, back-to-back. With her reflexes, there would be not time to calculate the second shot- after all, that was the plan. So he did it now, planning it so the arrow would hit her mid-dash and flip her over the railing into the water below. No body, no mess.
He exhaled and pulled back the first shot. The strength of his arms and back balanced perfectly against the tension of the bow, one perfect point of lethal potential. He didn't need to pause to the savor the moment- the speed of it only shot that much more crystal adrenaline through his system. He pulled his fingers back another millimeter, brushing along his cheekbone as the string rolled past his fingertips. He felt the snap it made, rather than heard it. The arrow was gone. It whistled as it flew, an intentional flaw, to alert the target a millisecond earlier. It was essential that she run, or the second shot would fly wide and she might be able to escape before he hit her again. He was taking no chances with this one. By the time the first arrow found its mark, he had loosed the second. It wasn't until it had split the distance between archer and target that Hawkeye realized something was wrong.
A rusty stain was spreading from the shaft in Agent's chest. The target hadn't moved, except to gasp in shock.
He had already missed before she ran forward and dropped to her knees before Agent, who had collapsed. With unexpected efficiency, she felt the fabric of his shirt, then grimace and gripped the arrow. He saw her say something, and his partner nodded. She took a deep breath, then twisted the shaft a full 180 degrees and yanked it out.
This wasn't the target. It couldn't be. People didn't just change their personalities, suddenly ignore years of habit and training. Agent Liretto would've run at the first sign of danger. Agent Liretto wouldn't have endangered her own life to save a dying man. No agent in their right mind would. So this woman, no matter how similar she looked, was a civilian.
But now she was a witness. Hawkeye could hear Fury's voice in his head: Abort. Eliminate the witness and get out. Do not compromise yourself.
He turned the dial on his quiver again, pulled out another arrow and shot it. It thudded into the crown molding above the balcony at the same time he launched himself out the window. The cord that attached the new arrow to his bow pulled taut as he swung out over open space. He clicked the button on his bow to release the arrow as he hit the marble and rolled, popping right back up onto his feet.
"We have to go."
The target- the woman- turned from the jacket she was holding to Agent A.'s chest. Her eyes flicked from him to his bow to the bloody arrow next to her, and pulled back defensively, setting herself between him and her patient.
"No." He ignored her and picked up the bloody arrow. It was the wrong tip, a piercing barb he'd designed himself, meant to pierce through any body armor. It was poisonous. He swore and threw it into the river. He would worry about who had switched out his arrowheads, and how, later.
"We have to go. Now."
He picked up the grappling arrow and shot it again, this time into the ledge of a conveniently placed skyscraper, five stories up. He held onto the bow with one hand and held the other out to her. She shook her head. She was trembling, but she glared at him.
"I can't leave him."
"You're too late. It was poisonous." She cringed and swallowed. Hawkeye hesitated, then added, "He knew the risks." She turned back to Agent.
He was ready to knock her out and save her against her will, but Agent had other ideas.
"It's… alright. He's right. He's-" he coughed, and blood speckled his tux and the woman's hands, "he's the best."
Clint had to look away from the hero worship on his young partner's face.
"You should-" another cough, more blood, "trust him. He's one of the Avengers, you know."
She didn't seem to notice the blood on her hand, just continued pressing the makeshift bandage onto the wound.
"He shot you." Hawkeye could tell from the set of her shoulders, the tension in her hands, that she wanted to scream. But she kept her voice soft, matter-of-fact. Calming.
"Yeah. He did, didn't he? Never misses." She clutched his hand.
"Come on, hang on. You'll be alright…" she looked at Hawkeye, and he shook his head. He didn't know the agent's name.
"…sweetheart. Stick with me."
He smiled vaguely, but shook his head. The poison was fast acting. He exhaled, and did not breathe again.
For one moment, the world tilted. Clint clutched his bow as if it would anchor him. Then the woman closed Agent's eyes and stood. That was all the invitation Clint needed, and he was moving again. He grabbed her around the waist and launched them both into the air.