Target Practice

"Clint! You in here?!" Natasha shouted into a seemingly empty room. She went in and looked around, hoping to find her sharpshooter friend, but no such luck. After searching the ground for Clint, Nat looked up to see a few targets with arrows in the bullseyes of them mounted to different areas. Clint's been here, but where is he now? Natasha thought.
Just as Natasha turned around to look around more, one of Clint's regular arrows whizzed past, centimeters from her face, and split another arrow down the middle on a bullseye. "Found you." Nat said and watched Clint drop to the ground and collect his arrows, scowling at him.
  "What?! You're the one who walked right into my training! Don't you give me that look!" Clint whined defensively. "You're just lucky you didn't hit my face, or I'd hit you right back with one of my pistols." Natasha told him, turning her back to leave.
  "But you do admit that I'm good? Possibly the best?" Clint asked, beginning to get cocky. Without turning around, Nat pulled out her pistol and fired a perfect circle of bullets on the target of Clint's split arrows. "Is that a challenge?" Clint asked, his ego now deflating. "It's going to be more of me beating you than a challenge." Nat said, knowing that talking trash riled up her friend.
"Oh is it now?! Let's make this interesting. The one who makes the most impressive shot, judged by Coulson, gets to use the loser's SHEILD card for whatever they want for a month." Clint fired back, trying to build up his ego after he was practically roasted to a crisp.
Nat took a moment to think and shook Clint's hand. "Fine. Let's see how much of a "Hawkeye" you are." Nat taunted and walked off.
"I'm the best Hawkeye. I'll show her. I'll show the world!" Clint muttered to himself whilst collecting the rest of his arrows.