Of The Wolves And The Orphans

Found

It's about midnight and I am staked out in the shadows of Keira's house. She is inside, I watched her come home, but I'm simply observing her for now and getting to know her patterns. After all, I see better from a distance. This also needs to be handled with tact. I can't just barge into her house. I would literally have to drag her back to the helicarrier and that would do no one any good.

She is skittish. I can tell by her constant looks thrown over her shoulder even inside her house. She can sense me watching her. Just another quality that makes a perfect agent, or assassin.

I watch. I wait.

Keira's P.O.V.

It was a good haul. I robbed a bank without any problems as usual. I smirked, leave the police to try and crack that job. No loose ends, that's how I work. I also expanded my wardrobe. All girls love clothes right? But I can't shake this feeling that I'm being watched. At the slightest sound I skitter and look over my shoulder, expecting someone to come crashing through the door. I inwardly berate myself for acting like a child, but I think my gut is trying to tell me someone's out there. I go to the back room in the house and hide the brief case of money in place no one would find it, even if they tore the house apart, then head to the couch to curl up with my concealed carry under the pillow, just to be safe.

I turn on a random TV channel and try to stay awake, but to no avail. I feel my eyelids drooping, and fall asleep, curled up in a corner of the couch.

It's light when I wake up. I know I didn't wake up on my own accord. I could swear I heard the faintest of clicking in the doorknob. My head flies up and I reach for my concealed carry, poised and tense, just waiting for the door to fly open. Nothing happens. After what must be fifteen minutes, I slowly relax and shift my position as quietly as I can, gently pushing myself to my feet and walking like a cat to the door. I pass it and walk to the window, still holding the gun by my side, and search around the house. My eye searches for the slightest disturbance in anything, but the plants on the porch or untouched, there are no footprints tracked on the porch, hell, not even the dew has left foot marks in the grass. I slowly relax, telling myself that everything is ok. Too much excitement must have upset me, I think dryly.

Hawkeye's P.O.V.

I lie on my back, staring at the clear blue sky and cursing myself. This girl is no fool and a very light sleeper. I had been picking the lock, no, I had been turning the door knob when she woke, startled by the slightest sound of the old iron squeaking in protest to my efforts of silence. I had jumped up and grabbed the eaves, hoisting myself up onto the roof just in the nick of time. Five minutes passes and I roll over and make my way, completely silent this time, to the other window. Leaning over and getting a good grip on the eaves, I stare into the window upside-down, watching her carefully as she stares motionless at the door, waiting for me to burst through the door or something. Eventually she relaxes her stiff position enough to go check the door. I thank God inwardly that I made sure to leave no tracks or sign of my presence.

Eventually, she must be satisfied with what she sees and turns, shaking her head as if to clear it. I know what she is thinking, she is thinking she is going crazy and I smirk a bit knowing the affect I can have on people.

I tighten my grip on the eaves and hold on with one hand as I let the rest of my body fall sideways and swing from my hold, not making a single sound, then drop to the ground in a crouch, barely peering into her house. Speaking of the house, I wonder who would have sold an obvious minor a house. Seriously, isn't anyone decent enough to check and see that a minor isn't in trouble? Then again, what would they care, she probably paid them in cash. Or maybe they were just too unobservant to notice.