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Mr and Mrs Barton Part 10

Natasha:

She had her vodka last night before falling asleep at her desk. A few hours of sleep were all she needed before dragging the other Widows back out as soon as they got there. The third step in her plan was what they were going to work on. Cleaning.

They were going to find everything there was to know about Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye.

She couldn't stop the slight twinge when one of the women ripped open the teddy bear Clint won for her on one of their many dates to the carnival. It had been her idea to go. At the time it just sounded like something he would like to do. A childish pursuit for the both of them.

He mentioned spending time with a circus during his childhood. Was that a truth or a lie for his cover? Maybe the reason why she's so concerned about the lies is because her own cover story was filled with them. She had thought there were no secrets behind his stories, but maybe it was all a lie?

It was the first and only time he hadn't wanted to do something but went ahead because she wanted to. He won the stuffed bear by being able to hit every target. She remembers him laughing at her look and explained how he knew the tricks of the trade because he spent some time with a circus that had similar games.

She should have known better than to take a story at face value.

Natasha watched over the other women as they went through the stuff. Kind of surprised that they were watching her wedding video. "Turn it off." There was no need for them to replay the past when they were now in the present.

"Background research." Of course it would Katrina leading the group in looking at something that was unneeded.

Yelena walks by, and with one look is already getting the other women back to work. "We need to know who is now. Not who he was." Natasha nods at her, grateful for the other woman's words. "Anyway, where is the weapon stash?"

A good question, and one Natasha may have a lead to. The house was her domain. Outside, though? Clint had one of his own. "Follow me."

Straight to the shed out back.

Clint:

He woke on the couch with drool on his cheek, a hangover to remind him why he doesn't drink, and a cover on top of him. He knew Phil loved him and the blanket was just a symbol of that. Phil was like the father he never had, and a brother in ways that his late brother hadn't been able to be.

Scars from a past that he preferred to forget, but the actions of the present seemed to want to bring back up. He gets up and wanders back into the kitchen to see a short note on the refrigerator about heading on to work and that he should do the same.

Clint moved to the drawer he knew held one of Phil's guns and dragged it out. He need small and compact. His bow and arrows didn't fit that bill, even though he knew Phil kept a collapsible compound upstairs in case of emergency. He may have staked out Phil's house not long after joining SHIELD, and Phil may have left him a cup of coffee in a nest of his not far from the house one evening. It may have happened like that, or maybe he's just completely guessing.

Maybe.

But that's not here and it isn't now. Now he needs to get to work in getting to Nat. His wife. Target. The target. He can't let himself think of her as a person.

For all he knows, everything has been a setup from the start.

Even if that thought hurts whatever is left of his heart.

He grabs the cup of coffee that Phil so kindly left behind for him, and starts coming with a plan. His first plan wasn't going to work. His first plan involved finding out that Nat wasn't in anyway attached to Hydra, Red Room, Black Widows, or any other group that could possibly be after his head.

Which means that he has to go for another one of his plans. Another one that he didn't think he would even have to touch on. He has to get to her, and to talk. They need to talk. He needs to know...He needs to know that it wasn't all a lie and that there was something they can do to salvage something from this mess.

He shoves the gun in the back of his pants and covers it with the back of his shirt. Guns are smaller, and easier to conceal. He may need it when he goes back to the house. Maybe. Hopefully not.

So Clint grabs a set of keys and drives to the neighborhood he had been a part of for the past five years. Instead of going straight to his house, he stops at Brock's. The least the other man can do is be his human shield from the target, just in case.

"Wow, didn't think you thought of me as such a friend, Clint." Brock announces as Clint places the other man slightly in front of him.

He doesn't think of the manly-man as a friend, but that's a part of being in the spy business. He can make most people think of him as a friend for a few moments. "Not much into showing feelings, you know." Clint keeps Brock in front of him through the house, and he takes note of the chaos in the house.

Someone has gone through the house with a not so kind comb.

"I didn't know your house was so big." Brock chuckles as if they are the best of friends. "Maybe we can watch some ball in the den of yours sometime."

Clint keeps his smile in place even as he waves at the man in the front yard. "Sure. Maybe on a Sunday when I'm free." He waves Brock off as he heads towards the back to see if they found the secret room in the little house outback.

He goes in there, puts in his code (their wedding anniversary) and watches the floor pull up for him to drop into a small hole. He isn't as surprised as he should be that they emptied out his archery range. He is kind of disappointed, though.

He'd been working on some prototypes for new arrows. Mostly just for fun. One released a bouquet of flowers on impact. He kept his more lethal prototypes at SHIELD barracks. Still...he was looking forward to using those.

They took his favorite set of throwing knives, too.

So, a side path of his plan. Nat wasn't at the house, so now he needs to find a way to get to her. Where else would she go but work?