In some number of minutes, Captain America, in all of his frozen glory, had been placed on a cart and wheeled to a makeshift unfreezing zone. Nowhere had Clint seen such a hive of excited energy. Agents were whispering, as if they might wake the sleeping soldier, or perhaps in some sort of awed reverence. Phil Coulson stood somewhere nearby, staring. All of them, Clint was convinced, had lost their minds.

He stood back, bow in one hand, as far away from the operation as possible without actually failing his job—keeping one eye on the exits and the other on what was happening in the center of the room. He spied Natasha as soon as she entered the doorway.

She approached his side, a SHIELD folder in one hand, regarding the scene before them. Clint said, "Any news?"

"Fury wants a meeting with us once you're off duty. Sounds like something big."

Clint kept his eyes on the agents around them. "I might be on duty for a while."

"That's probably why he said 'tomorrow.'"

"Never fails to think ahead, does he?"

There was silence between them for a moment. Then Natasha said, "Coulson is fit to be tied."

Clint glanced at the senior agent and allowed the smallest smirk to touch his face. "Maybe we should tie him."

Natasha retained her usual mask, but Clint could see her eyes twinkling behind it. "I would pay money to see that," she murmured. "It'd be just like that extraction in Belgium."

There was another long silence. Neither of them minded the quiet, but Clint could sense the conversation wasn't over. When Natasha spoke again, her voice was sober, almost sad—a betrayal of her usual confidence.

"The world's about to change, isn't it?" she concluded, as if there had been a whole discussion about it.

Clint shifted to lean against the wall. "For better or for worse?"

"I don't know." She leaned back too, folding her arms. "Budapest was a long time ago."

"Oh, we're just getting started. The world can't change that much, can it?"

"Well, we just pulled a 66-years-frozen supersoldier out of the ice in the Arctic alive. I'd say things have changed a lot already."

Clint could find no real argument against that. "So why is it," he murmured, "that for every time the craziest things go south, Fury calls the two of us?"

"Because neither of us can say no." She smiled, just a little. "Maybe you're right. We can't let Phase Two and everything that comes with it go to our heads."

At that, Clint regarded her. "You scared?" He kept his voice low.

She shook her head, and not even he could detect any denial behind her expression. "No. It's just..." She stopped for a moment, and her gaze returned absently to the activities surrounding the Captain. "I was just getting used to the world as it was. I'm not sure I'm ready for it to change."

"No one ever is," Clint replied quietly.

"You either?" she asked.

It was his turn to smile. "Are you kidding? I'm still shooting a bow and arrow, Nat."

She straightened, faint amusement in her eyes. She held out the folder. "Homework, for when you have time," she told him.

"Fury really is dreaming." Clint took the folder, the words Phase Two Roll-Out Assignments emblazoned across the front. He opened it just long enough to glance at the front page and then he shut it back. "Look," he said, turning back to his partner. "The world can change all it wants to, and I'll find a way not to care. But don't you go anywhere, you hear me?"

"What, are you worried?" she teased. Her voice was carefree, but the expression of kindness in her eyes told a different story. "Don't worry, Hawkeye. I'm not going anywhere, at least not yet." Then with a rare encouraging smile, she left the room the same way she'd come.

Clint returned his attention to the star-struck agents in the room and sighed. Yeah, it was going to be a long day.

True to Fury's word, it was the next day that the anticipated meeting actually took place. Clint had seen the freshly-defrosted Captain America safely to the medical wing, where Rogers was placed under the care of a couple dozen doctors and nurses and guarded by another dozen or so armed SHIELD agents—all overseen immediately by Deputy Director Maria Hill, and aided, of course, by Agent Coulson. Clint had no doubt he was leaving the Captain in good hands, although he did doubt that Coulson would be able to keep himself from fainting eventually, for all the gleeful stress he was under. Clint shook his head and slung his bow across his shoulders, heading for the conference room by way of the cafeteria. There was no way he was going to be able to stay awake without either a cup of coffee or a good workout, and a cup of coffee was faster.

Brock Rumlow approached him at the drink counter, a can of Sprite in one hand. "Barton," he said. "You off duty this early in the day?"

Clint secured the lid on his cup and turned. "You could say that," he answered, taking a sip. "I have a meeting with Fury."

"That good, huh?" Rumlow discarded his empty can. "Is it true they found Captain America? I've been on that job in Norway, nobody's filled me in yet."

Clint started for the door, Rumlow following. "Afraid I'm not at liberty to say, Rumlow. You ask Fury or Hill, I'm sure they can tell you what you need to know."

"Yeah, well, they're all busy."

"Sorry." Clint shoved open the door and gestured at Rumlow with his cup. "Hey, at least you're already used to the climate."

"Yeah, thanks for that."

Clint turned down the hall toward the section of offices and conference rooms. They were supposed to meet in Conference Room Alpha, which was the biggest and was thus usually reserved for Fury or other important higher-ups. Clint had only been on this base once before, but he was good with maps and he had memorized the whole layout just in case. It paid to be prepared.

Fury was alone when he entered the room, studying an open folder in front of him. He rose as Clint approached.

"How's the soldier?"

"Oh, he's great." Clint set his bow on the table. "Coulson's busy planning upgrades to his suit."

"Has anyone told Coulson he needs to take a break?"

"Hill kicked him out around midnight. Wouldn't let him back in until six this morning."

"Good." Fury shut the folder. "Maybe he got a little sleep for a change."

"About as much as a little kid gets on Christmas Eve." Clint went back to his coffee. "Where's Nat?"

"I sent her on an errand. She should be back in a few minutes." He returned to his chair. "Have a seat."

Clint obliged, suddenly glad to be off his feet. He was pretty sure he had been standing for at least the last twenty-four hours. He fingered the folder Natasha had given him, leafing through the pages once more. According to the files, he was to be reassigned to SHIELD's Joint Dark Energy Mission Facility within the week—on another security detail. The big energy cube from space was the main event, and Phase Two was designed to make use of it. Clint suspected he wouldn't get a break again for a long while.

Natasha walked into the room carrying a tablet and a flash drive. "Morning, boys," she said evenly. She faced Fury, holding up the drive. "You wanted this?"

Fury jerked his thumb toward Clint. "It goes to him. I don't even want to look at it." He leaned forward and placed his arms on the table. "Have a seat, Romanoff. What I have to say right now concerns you both."

Natasha took the chair to Clint's right, flicking a brief glance at him. Fury went on.

"You both know that some...weird things have been happening lately. Things nobody can immediately explain. With all this going on...I'm relying on you two. You, and Hill, and Coulson—people who have good heads on their shoulders, perhaps with the exception of Coulson at the moment. As far as Phase Two goes, the scientists may be handling the experiments and the research, but you guys are driving it. Are we clear on that?"

Clint nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Because I have some bigger news."

The glance between Clint and Natasha was longer this time.

Fury picked up the folder he'd been reading. "You both have reviewed the Avengers Initiative, correct?" At their affirmations, he continued, "There's something else to it that's not in the files. Because I don't want people asking questions, or getting involved when they shouldn't. You know Thor and Bruce Banner are both on the list, and Tony Stark is a likely member despite his issues. And you've probably guessed that, should this all work out, Steve Rogers will be on the list as well. But you probably haven't guessed that there are two additional people on the list who will likely fly under the radar." Fury glanced between them and slid the folder across the table. "The final two members of the Avengers Initiative are both of you."

"What?" It was all Clint could manage to say. He'd ceased to think anything Fury said could surprise him. Clearly, he was wrong.

Natasha picked up the folder, and Fury leaned back in his chair. "You don't have to say yes. I'd say that of all the people on this list, you're the ones who most have a right to say no. But the truth is, the world is becoming a crazy place. And among the people who are best prepared to defend it, we're going to need one or two minds who are a little more down-to-Earth."

Clint looked over his partner's shoulder, his eyes roving over the text. It was the complete Avengers Initiative document, classified at SHIELD Level Seven—listing all six names and their corresponding personnel files, including recent and notable activity, qualifications, and basic personal information. Somehow, although he'd seen his and Natasha's files too many times to count, it was mind-boggling.

Natasha said, "Are you sure you should trust an ex-Russian assassin with something like this?"

"Considering who else is on this list, Romanoff, I'd say you're one of my more intelligent choices."

"I think you're crazy," Clint told Fury finally. "But sometimes crazy wins wars. I can't guarantee the team will stay in line even if we're there..."

"I don't expect them to."

"...But I think we can mitigate most of the disasters." He sat back. "I'm in."

Fury turned to Romanoff. "Natasha?"

"I'm with Clint. Tell us what you need, and we'll do our best."

"Alright then." Fury closed the folder. "Congratulations, you're officially Avengers."