HAPPY NEW YEAR READERS! A little belated, I know, and this update has been loooooong overdo. I apologize for the extended silence; I'm sure many of you have moved on, thinking this fic would never be completed. And I wasn't sure if it ever would be either! My life got complicated for awhile, but I'm recommitted to things that bring me joy, which writing is one of those things and *especially* this story! This chapter plus one more to follow for completion of Part I, then I'm already working on Part II! I can't wait to hear what you all think, and thank you for being here with me on this journey.

I hope the new year is treating all of you well - Enjoy!

-14-

Clint looked out across the sloping meadow leading away from his family's house and into the forest beyond, the deepening shadows of twilight turning the line of trees there slightly sinister. Or perhaps it was only his dark mood making everything look dangerous and unwelcoming, he admitted to himself. Regardless of the reason, Hawkeye caught himself searching the gathering gloom for movement out of habit; ever-vigilant, so rarely relaxed. Even here, with the faint sound of his children's laughter drifting out of the open kitchen window and a sweet summer breeze stirring his hair across his forehead, he did not feel at ease. This had been part of the problem that ended his marriage, and it was why he lived full-time alone in New York now, though he still tried to be home for his kids every chance he could.

And he tried not to bring the darkness in with him when he visited, though it was always a struggle. His children did not need the added burden of worrying about him more than they already did. Laura though, she saw right through him. She always did.

Winter had given way to Spring, then Summer was in full bloom before he knew it, sweeping away the memory of sharp cold nights on rooftops with Kate, the city lit up below them like a Christmas tree. Those two weeks spent with her in New York seemed distant and hazy, like a strange dream half-remembered upon waking, so far away you can't be sure whether it was real. But Clint knew it had happened, of that there was no doubt. It had been 6 months since he quietly slipped out of her London penthouse while she slept off the trauma of the most harrowing experience of her young life so far, careful to leave no trace of his presence there. It had been what she wanted and if giving her that was the last thing he could do for her, he gave it willingly.

What he hadn't expected was that it would be impossible to forget Kate. How had she gotten so far under his skin in such a short time? He missed her, and that was just ridiculous on so many levels. He was sur she wasn't missing him, and with her new role in the global spotlight as a champion of justice and reform using her mother's dismantled security company as a platform to build Bishop Security into something better, Kate had more than enough to occupy her thoughts and time without Clint Barton taking up space in her mind. Or in her life.

Yelena had been true to her word, as following Clint's departure and Kate's waking from her medically induced coma, she'd never tried to contact him, not even to admonish him for showing up when he wasn't invited or welcome. Only silence had followed, with global news outlets and Clint's own connections the only information he had on her whereabouts and how she was doing. He doubted much of that information was more than a smokescreen to obscure her real activities and he was proud of her for being cunning enough not to show her cards to anyone. Katherine Bishop had surprised everyone with her business acumen, savvy but ethical tactics, and staunch opposition to the questionable yet commonly accepted practices of her company's peers in the industry. But Clint hadn't been surprised in the least – he'd known she had it in her from the start.

Kate was young, beautiful, and powerful – a perfect combination for the world to be buzzing with speculation about her. Tabloid magazines published articles theorizing about every aspect in her life, from who Kate Bishop might be sleeping with to whether or not she was vegan, and what products she used on her trademark mane of raven hair. But in truly Kate fashion, she had declined to comment on her personal life in the public eye at all, and in the few interviews she had agreed to in the past 6 months (all two of them) insisted on strictly professional topics of conversation. She wasn't on social media anywhere and kept to herself most of the time, with only a few notable people consistently being seen with her when she made the rare appearance in public.

Yelena Belova was almost always at her side – seeing that gave Clint the smallest sense of relief at least that Kate was being protected, even if he didn't fully trust the new leader of the Widow Assassins.

After 3 months of diligently assisting Interpol with the investigation and deconstruction of Bishop Security, Kate had outlined a new plan for the company's future and spent another two months scouring the globe for the perfect candidates to form its new Board of Directors. Vetted, tested, approved, together they spearheaded the rebuilding of a new company that would maintain a focus on assessing global security threats, support for existing organizations that lent aid in crisis events, the collection and dissemination of important data and intel, and development of new technologies that would provide an advantage for agencies fighting the good fight with integrity and transparency. SHIELD had been the first to sign up with them, and afterward Coulson had texted Clint to simply say, "You were right about that girl."

Then, one month ago, Kate Bishop had announced to the world her withdrawal from active duty as Chairperson, leaving the company in the hands of her new trusted advisors for her own mysterious pursuits. She would retain her place as owner and figurehead of Bishop Security, but the daily machinations of running that business would fall to her appointed Board. People speculated wildly about what plans she may have for herself, but public inquiries and requests for interviews were met only with her silence. Much like Clint himself, she had no interest in fame, and if Kate had any specific plans for her future she wasn't telling the world what they were.

Smart girl, he thought to himself, turning to go back inside and help the kids finish preparing dinner with the two rabbits he'd hunted earlier that morning. He knew he was distracted and tried to push Kate out of his mind for the millionth moment since he'd walked out of her makeshift hospital room for the last time 6 months ago.

Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, Kate Bishop wasn't thinking about him.

((o))

Kate stared down at her phone screen in the dark of her bedroom, scrolling down through an email from her accountant with little interest in yet another lecture from him on the way she was spending her money. If he didn't think installing an indoor archery training course was a prudent application of her family fortune, then he didn't understand what was important to her, which was just fine. She didn't need him to understand, she just needed him to do his job and maintain discretion. He was good at both things, so instead of ignoring the email like she wanted to, Kate tapped out a quick response thanking him for his diligence and promising that next time she was going to spend 2 million on an indoor archery range and parkour obstacle training course she would be sure to mention it to him first.

Next up was a short message from Skye, her SHIELD liaison assigned to her by Coulson and a new friend in Kate's life as well, since the two immediately hit it off.

How's it hanging KitKat? Just checking in that we're still on for the summary meeting in New York next week – the Boss Man is excited to get a better idea of whether or not you want to be put on the roster right away or need more time. You picked out a superhero name yet? Personally, I'm partial to Purple Pigeon. Or Shaft Queen. ARROW SHAFT, obvi. Get your mind out of the gutter Kat :P Anyway, we have accommodations for you to stay at SHIELD headquarters so no one will know you're in the States unless you want them to. Other provisional and contracted heroes who assist SHIELD will be in attendance as well since this is when contracts get negotiated annually and we're finally running at nearly 100%. So, you might meet some new and some familiar faces around. AND you'll get the distinct pleasure of seeing me shitfaced when we go out for drinks with FitzSimmons to celebrate your heroship. You wouldn't think it, but those two can PARTY. See ya there, pack your bathing suit! – Skye

Kate felt her heart speed up and an unexpected lump form in her throat as she read over the casual words again. Some new and some familiar faces.

Clint.

She knew he was a former SHIELD agent and still worked closely with Coulson despite his current status as a full-time Avenger. It wouldn't surprise her if he had some kind of agreement with the agency that kept him on as an advisor or some kind of contracted hero in an official capacity. Would he be there? The thought of seeing him again made her feel both elated and queasy simultaneously – getting over Clint Barton had been more difficult than nearly being stabbed to death and the long painful recovery following her skin graft surgery. And even now saying she was "over him" was a laughable denial. He haunted her like a ghost in her heart no matter how she tried to ignore him.

It was her secret shame that she followed every scrap of news she should get her hands on about him, trying to keep up with where he was and what he might be doing as best she could. He lived a quiet, private existence out of the spotlight, and despite pressure from the PR machine that he be more "visible" as a beloved Avenger, Clint Barton didn't even have a Facebook. He liked his privacy and no amount of outside influence would ever change that about him.

It was one of the things she loved about him, counted among so many others. Clint was not a hero because he wanted the fame or recognition, he wasn't even a hero because he wanted to be. He just was. Heroism was as much as part of his DNA as the color of his eyes, and he could no more deny that fact about himself (though Lord knew he had tried) than he could deny his love for his children.

Add that to the list too.

Stop it Kate, you're such an idiot, she mentally reprimanded herself for the hundredth time that day, frustrated with her own lack of discipline. Listing out reasons she loved him was never going to help her get over him.

I AM over him, she corrected her line of thinking stubbornly. I AM.

And if she saw him at the SHIELD Summary Meeting in New York, she would be polite and professional, and shake his hand with a smile like the distant acquaintances and potential colleagues they were. She would coolly congratulate him on the Avengers' most recent victory in Papua New Guinea when they'd thwarted the Enclave from weaponizing a volcano. The footage of Hawkeye pinning an Enclave Enforcer to the side of a building with 4 arrows fired in a single shot to end the enemy's last stand had instantly gone viral (much to his dismay, she imagined).

Kate had watched the video at least 20 times, eagerly soaking up every detail from how he'd executed the amazing shot down to the look in Clint's eyes as he turned to quickly glimpse the camera observing him. What was he thinking about? She didn't think it was her imagination that there was a sadness there, something weighing on him to darken his mood. What was going on his life to make him look so hardened? Perhaps family troubles, or missing his former partner, Natasha. She imagined the deceased Black Widow was often on Hawkeye's mind, as they'd shared an incredible bond and the woman had left a gaping hole in the lives of all who'd loved her, especially Clint and Yelena. Kate wished she'd known Natasha too.

Feeling overcome with a sudden swelling of emotion of out nowhere, tears clouded Kate's eyes as she stared at the blinking cursor in the empty response line of the email window. Unsure of what else to say and struggling with the reality of her feelings, she finally typed out a single line answer to Skye with a slightly trembling finger and knew it was the truth:

I'm sorry Skye, I can't go, I'm not ready. Maybe next year.

((o))

When Clint received his invitation to the SHIELD Annual Summary meeting and RSVP'd YES to the electronic message, he told himself that he was going because as a SHIELD consultant and the only active Avenger in New York, it was important that he be there as a representative. He told himself that it had nothing to do with the fact that Skye had mentioned briefly in passing that Kate had been sent an invitation as well and would likely be there, because Coulson had extended her a contract with SHIELD. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that he couldn't stop imagining what it might be like to see her again after all this time, to see her mischievous smile and the spark of humor in her blue eyes. No, he was going because he had a duty and it was his job, nothing more. If he happened to see Kate there, he could be a professional and give her as much space as she wished, since he doubted she'd be as happy to see him. How much was it going to hurt if she avoided him completely? He'd prefer not to think about that. Kate didn't seem like the type to be petty, but Clint felt that cool professionalism as if they were strangers might be harder to bear than if she simply avoided him altogether.

Lucky pulled on the leash ahead of Clint, effectively pulling his mind back into the present and to the street as he approached his building. The Summary meeting was tomorrow, and there was no use dwelling on what might happen there today. There wasn't anything he could do to influence the outcome and he had to be at peace with that. Relinquishing control was one of Hawkeye's greatest personal challenges, but something he had been working on the last few months alone since Kate's clandestine departure. Some things were simply out of his hands, and he had to start coming to terms with that, and finding some kind of peace with it. But damn it wasn't easy. It made him want to punch and cut and kick things.

But the city had been fairly quiet the last few months, his services has not been much needed either as protector of the city's citizens or as a global protector working with his famous team of heroes. Aside from that one incident in Papua New Guinea last month to put a hard and fast stop to the latest hairbrained schemes of the Enclave, the dance card of the Avengers had been remained empty and it left Clint with far too much time on his hands to do nothing but think. That was always more dangerous than any mission - he'd much rather be dodging gunfire than submerged in self-reflection. He'd done enough of that for a lifetime by now it seemed, and he was over it. Put a bow in his hands and give him a villain to destroy already.

With the dog's food bowl filled and a cold slice of pizza from the box on the counter consumed, Clint flopped down into the only armchair in his sparsely furnished living room with an exhaled sigh. He pulled out his mobile phone to check his messages, not sure whether he should hope to find requests for assistance or to grudgingly be pleased at the continued reduction of crime in the city to the point that he wasn't needed - he'd done his job too well. And it seemed awfully selfish and shortsighted of him to wish for crime just to give him something to keep his mind off things. What kind of hero was he to even entertain such a thought?

You're a selfish asshole Clint Barton. No wonder Kate left. Some hero you turned out to be.

There were only 2 messages in his inbox, and the first one was from Laura letting him know that the kids would be visiting him for 2 weeks over the summer school break, and to remind him that they would need beds. And food. As if he didn't know that... Though, admittedly, a quick inventory of his fridge would imply otherwise, and the 3 additional rooms in the recently renovated loft remaining empty and barren. He made a grudging mental note to make a call and get this place furnished before the summer, though he had no idea what he shoulder order or where to start with that sort of thing. The intrusive thought that this was just the kind of task that Kate would have excelled at and happily taken off his hands was an unwelcome reminder of her glaring absence in his life.

It was the second message, from Skye, that caught his attention. It was short and typically to the point in her usual way, a style of communication that Clint very much appreciated.

Hey Hawkguy,

She's not coming. I don't think she is anyway. You know you gotta be there regardless or the BOSSMAN will hunt you down and have you abducted then taped to a chair if he has to. And who knows, maybe she changes her mind? Sorry to be the bearer of disappointing news - I was hoping she'd show too. Says she's "not ready", whatever that means. Either way, see ya tomorrow.

Well that answered that - she wasn't even willing to risk seeing him. Or was that his own ego assuming it had anything to do with him? "Not ready" could mean a multitude of things and may not even be about him at all. He really needed to get out of his own head, or get his head out of his own ass - Kate had a life of her own, likely full of exciting new people and many good reasons not to come to New York. Wherever she was, he hoped she was happy at least. She deserved to be happy.

Clint went to take another drink of coffee from the cold mug in his hand, and realized with a start of disappointment that it was empty already, the taste of coffee lingering in his mouth and reminding him of mornings with Kate. Tomorrow was undoubtedly going to suck.

((o))

The Summary meeting was going about as expected, with a variety of speakers and presentations that Clint only paid half attention to. His mind was elsewhere, wandering to where Kate might be and what she might be doing at this moment, so it took him off guard when Skye's elbow jammed into his ribs from where she sat beside him. He glanced sharply at the young hacker, a sharp word immediately coming to his tongue as he turned slightly toward her, "Skye what the F-"

The curse died instantly on his lips as he became aware that Coulson, standing at the elevated podium near the center of the conference hall, along with the entire stadium-style room of guests numbering around 300 men and women from the worlds of politics, administration, and heroes alike, were all staring at him. Coulson had just addressed him directly, in front of everyone, but Clint had no idea what had been said and furiously fought against the urge to run from the room. He had never been comfortable with fame or the spotlight, and would be perfectly happy to serve the world as a completely anonymous masked hero with a secret identity. If only he didn't hate wearing masks and the world didn't already know exactly who he was.

Having all those eyes on him, the silent air of collective expectation, it made his skin crawl as he sat up and cleared his throat uncomfortable, wishing he had a bow or a knife in his hands to fidget with. Skye laughed under her breath but quickly choked that off when he shot her another dagger of a look, grudgingly sitting up to give Coulson his attention. The other man was looking at him with just the faintest hint of a wry smile at the corners of his mouth, and it was hard to read whether his old friend was amused or annoyed with Clint's typical disinterest in the politics and planning side of what they did. Coulson was a hard man to read and he often wore that same expression of impenetrable bemusement regardless of whether he was having a drink with you at the bar or taking enemy fire. It was one of the things Clint liked and respected so much about him, but what also made it difficult to tell whether or not you'd pissed him off. Better to keep on the side of caution.

Clint shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness, giving a small laugh and saying tentatively, in a way that made it clear he hadn't heard the question, "Uh... Yes?"

Coulson's flinty blue eyes glinted and the corner of his mouth quirked closer to a smirk, "Barton, you have no idea what you just agreed to, do you." It wasn't actually a question.

Shrugging again and crossing his arms over his chest nonchalantly, Clint ignored the ripple of soft laughter that rolled through the room and kept his eyes on his friend. "Does it matter? Do I get to say No?"

That earned a full-blown grin from the SHIELD Special Agent in Charge, who mirrored Clint's body language intentionally, "You DID sign a contract Mr. Barton. It's in the fine print - you're a Yes Man."

"Oh is that so? Do you want to clue me in on what I'm saying Yes to?"

"If you had been paying attention, you would already know what every other person in this room does, as we've been discussing it for the last half hour. And you've just been volunteered."

"Eh, sorry Sir, it's just that I tend to tune out annoying droning sounds, like your voice," another ripple of quiet laughter rolled across the room. Coulson rolled his eyes and sighed, though there was also the quick but clear hint of a grin as he shrugged off the insult in the same spirit of brotherhood from which it was offered.

"Then turn your damn hearing aids up Hawkeye and listen," more spirited laughter from the gallery, including Skye beside him, who seemed to find this particularly funny. "AIM," Coulson continued, his voice echoing in the chamber as the crowd lapsed back into professional silence, "has appointed new leadership after our success in routing their Christmas plans for New York, and they are reportedly reassembling for some new global movement somewhere in northeastern Europe. We need skilled recon in the Baltic region where the report originated from, as our agent undercover there has gone dark. We don't know if they have been discovered and captured, or worse."

He had Clint's attention now. Kate was in Europe last he knew, and may be there still. She had been working with SHIELD according to Skye, engaged in talks of becoming a contracted liaison and supportive ally, though it seemed like none of that had been made official yet. A cold feeling settled into the pit of Clint's stomach. Surely not...

"Who is the agent?" There was more anxiety in his voice, his emotions less controlled that he would like as he asked the question and tensed for the answer he dreaded. Not Kate, don't let it be Kate out there...

"To protect the agents identity, we won't discuss that openly here. They are using an alias and I would like to keep it that way as far as public knowledge goes." His friend's eyes lingered on Clint's face for a moment though, and there was an understanding between them that went unspoken. "But, rest assured, it's not who you think."

There it was. Coulson knew his friend well enough to know exactly where Clint's mind had gone, and he was reassuring him without going any further into detail that the agent in question was not Kate. When Clint responded next, he made sure to keep the relief he felt wash through him out of his voice, though he didn't miss the subtle touch of Skye's fingertips at his elbow. They were both relieved to hear that Kate wasn't secretly already working undercover for SHIELD, and now in danger.

"So, is this a rescue mission then, or a recon?"

"Can't it be both?"

Clint rubbed a hand across his face, feeling the stubble he hadn't bothered shaving off before throwing on a jacket to show up at this meeting fully casual. He probably looked like a man who didn't care much, who couldn't even make the effort to put on a suit when he was supposed to be representing the Avengers here at this meeting, but anyone who really knew Clint would understand that his appearance and perceived lack of investment in such proceedings in no way reflected his dedication and devotion to a worthy cause. And no one would lay their life on the line to protect the innocent, to protect an ally or a friend, faster than Hawkeye - no one who had ever met him would question that fact.

Feeling the rising confidence and familiar determination of having something to focus on, of having a purpose, a target, Clint became Hawkeye in a heartbeat and leaned forward eagerly in the chair. "I'm going to need details, in private. And one other agent to act as backup. Whoever you want, just make sure they're experienced and reliable. I don't do hand-holding." Unless it's a naive but brave young woman who has more potential than she realizes but just needs some guidance, right? The added thought to himself came unbidden and he shoved it away immediately, ignoring the needling from his own subconscious. Kate was an exception, in many ways.

"Done. You'll get all the details you need and then some before you depart tonight," Coulson nodded, then paused and drew out a breath, scratching the back his neck as he gave a short laugh. "And as for your backup..." the way the man hesitated gave Clint the impression he was not going to like whatever Special Agent Coulson said next. "We already have a supporting liaison on the ground in the Baltics, and as part of a new initiative to rebuild relations with our European institutional counterparts, we are committed to working together with them on this. In fact, I believe you are already acquainted with their representative, since she tried to kill you last year, but I trust that you have buried that hatchet and there won't be any problems partnering on this operation."

No. He could not mean...

But Coulson finished the thought before Clint could open his mouth to ask, "The Widows."

Clint groaned inwardly and spoke aloud before he could stop himself from the outburst, "You've got to be FUCKING kidding me."