Little Sparrow (A Clint Barton/Hawkeye Love Story) ON HOLD

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She slipped on a beige sweater and some black jeans. Grabbing her bag she stuffed a gun, 2 knives and her phone in it, before walking out of her room. She stopped right outside the living room where her dad was watching the telly.

"Hey I'm going to get some coffee do you want anything?" she asked. There was no reply. Spencer sighed as she picked up one of her fathers dress shoes that was lying on the floor and chucked it at his head.

"Oii!" he shouted throwing his hand up to rub his head, "What was that for?!"

"Not paying attention." she said imitating his voice and posture, like the way he used to when she was just started out training.

"Ha ha very amusing," he shot back not impressed, but still trying his best to hold in the laughter, "Well, I must say you do, do a mean James Bond impersonation."

"I learn from the best," she said smiling, "So do you want coffee or not?"

"I only drink tea." he said picking up his mug and taking a sip.

"Since when do you drink tea?"

"Since forever"

Spencer raised an eyebrow and crossed her arm, "Who are you and what have you done to my father?"

"What?" he replied, "I've always been your tea loving father"

"I though you only drank dry martinis. With three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shaken very well until ice-cold, and a large slice of lemon-peel."

"You know sometimes I forget you're a super genius with a freaky memory."

"You drink it so much that I don't even I have to try too remember."

"I don't want anything, dear" he said bringing his attention back to the telly.

"Okay then" she said walking out of their room and making her way to the front lobby and out on the streets. It was sunny out and Spencer mentally scowled at herself for not taking her sunglasses with her. She continued her walk down the streets of Pairs where little coffee shops were scattered all over the place. To be honest she wasn't up for a cup coffee herself. But the smell of chocolate, rich coffee and French pastries dancing in the air just made her mouth beg the differ.

Continuing down the street Spencer could feel someone watching her. The presence or feeling of someone just studying her carefully, a feeling that she came to be familiar with. She can't turn her head and look, or they'd know she knows. Or is there even a person knowing that she knows? Regardless she'd already stopped her little spider. "There, on the top of the building" she sighed to herself. At the top of the old French style apartment stood a man. He wore a simple grey shirt, khakis and a gun hidden under his shirt. Slim, but built, blond, no doubt that he was handsome. Their eyes met and she could have sworn there was a flash of shock in his eyes, like the man didn't realised that she would spot him. But the glimpse only lasted for a second, before Spencer focused her eyes back to the streets.

A spy or assassin she presumed and it was normal. To normal, if you knew where to look you'd find dozens of them. The way they act simply gives it away, but you only who's one when you are one.

Spencer stopped walking, the heat getting to hot to even bare. She walked into the nearest coffee shop.

"Bonjour mademoiselle qu'est ce que vous amierez, aujourd'hui?" a women said as Spencer sat down.

"Ah oui, un café glacé s'il vous plaît" Spencer replied and the waitress nodded then walked away. The door of the little shop opened and in walked a tall man with curly brown hair and glasses. He wore a blue dress shirt trucked into his beige pants and a messenger page hung across his body. He scanned the room and immediately avoided eye contact with Spencer. She took note of that.