Clintasha One-shots

Wild West AU 2

A/N: Here's the promised second part! Did you like the picture of the last chapter? ;)

Once outside in the sun, the tension left his body a little. He was sure the Sheriff hadn’t recognized him. The man was to upfront to hunt him down without his knowledge. The Black Widow though seemed to know exactly who he was and that could prove to be a problem. She wasn’t rumoured to be the best bounty hunter in the whole Wild West for nothing. But he would play dumb like always and keep her thinking she had the upper hand. The game was on.
Natasha and Pepper were just finished with the arrangement of the tables when a suit-clad Tony Stark stormed into the Saloon. “Pep? Do you have everything ready? Rhodey just told me the guests were early and already in sight.”
The strawberry blonde smiled at her husband. Tony was always in a hurry, too focused on his new gun-designs for everything else. “Relax honey. Natasha and I just finished. Peggy and Sharon will be over in a few to help out at the bar.” The guests were possible investors for a new riffle Stark was working on. He planned on presenting it in the Saloon and have a big party afterwards to socialise. 
Stark dropped on one of the barstool and poured himself a scotch when the doors opened and a familiar Figure approached Natasha. He took a seat besides Stark and ordered a beer. Pepper smirked and left the catering to her, rearranging some of the decoration. Once the glass was placed in front of him, the blonde smiled at her “Thank you for sending me to Coulson. He had the 50-90’s in stock. The Sheriff says Hi.”
“No problem. I’m glad I could be of help.” She smiled, accepting the bills he held out. Stark turned his head at the mention of bullets “You have a 50-90 Sharps? Those are quite rare on the market. Impressive reach. I had a hard time to build something more accurate.”
Clint shrugged, unconcerned “Inherited it from my old man. It did me good service so far.” The ‘service’ he was talking about included a few dead soldiers here and there that he’d buried in the desert when they came to close.
“If you are interested in Riffles, I can show you my new design. There will be a demonstration later but look more like a hands-on guy.” He gestured at Clint’s cowboy attire.
The blonde didn’t really liked where this was going but it was best to play along. Anything else would only rise suspicion. “Sure, why not.” A slight smile on his lips, he finished the beer as Stark made a move stand up. “Pep! I will be back in a few. Entertain the guests while I’m gone.” Pepper shook her head and rolled her eyes in Natasha’s direction. That was Tony for you, always more interested in the Tech than selling the stuff he made.
Tony guided him through the back-door on a large field equipped with targets of various sizes at different distances. “Here,” he said handing over a sleek looking all-metal riffle “It’s my new model. I call her the Arc. She has the furthest range of all guns and a great accuracy.”
Clint wasn’t even listening anymore. He weighed the weapon in his hand and held it to his shoulder, looking down the barrel. It was beautiful. Carefully, the blonde lined up a shot and aimed at one of the targets. The first bullet hit a few centimetres away from where he aimed at and he corrected the mounted visor a little, taking another shot. This time, the bullet went true. With a broad smile, he handed the riffle back to Stark. “How much?”
Tony beamed at him “I only have five at the moment and they are not for sale yet. Natasha keeps asking me about them. However I hope they get in production within the next month.”
“A shame. It’s perfect.” Clint stated, moving to walk back to the Saloon. He’d been here too long already. Stark however gestured him to come back “If you like, you can shoot a little. I could arrange for you to get one of the first Arc’s once they are finished.” Even though his mind screamed at him to run, the Archer circled back with hesistance and took the riffle again. He checked the chamber, a six-shot, and the engineer handed him two more bullets to replace the ones he already shot. “If you get me a bullseye on all six, there is a bottle of Whisky waiting for you inside.” Tony said, watching him take aim. “Deal” Clint grinned after the first bullet embedded itself right in the middle of the first target. The next three felled a glass bottle each and the last two both went in the bullseye of the target furthest away. “Wow” was all the man next to him said “That bottle is well deserved my friend.” He knew he was showing off even though he shouldn’t. Technically, he told himself that he would easily have been able to hit a target twice the distance so it didn’t count as showing off but the small voice in his head kept reminding him that he was in fact a wanted criminal and should be avoiding attention.
“You know what?” he heard Stark next to him “I need a new guard anyways since Happy broke his leg. If you work for me for, ah… let’s say four months for two thirds of the pay, you get to keep that one. Food and a room is included for you and your horse.” The offer was good, too good. He thought about it for a moment, running the possibilities through in his head. It was safer if he avoided contact as much as possible but he couldn’t run forever. Two years alone on the run had taken its toll on him. If the Widow knew who he was she’d hunt him down either way so he might as well stay.  
He took the outstretched hand and shook it “Under one condition: Don’t brag to anyone about my shooting, not even your wife okay? I like to keep a low profile.”
Stark shrugged “Sure, you a wanted man or something? I wouldn’t mind, you seem alright. I’m Tony Stark by the way.” Taken aback by the open answer, Clint smirked holding his hand out again “Clint Barton, can I trust you to not rat me out?”
“Sure, you know, I’m married to one of the best thieves in America.” Interesting, Clint thought. Then, he remembered a female art thief that made the talk of the week a few years back and smiled. “In that case, you might know me under ‘Hawkeye’.”
Tony’s eyes almost popped out of his skull “The Apache warrior that took down an entire Fort when they erased his tribe? No way! But you are white!” The blonde chuckled and lifted his shirt just high enough to show him the ‘red-skin’ that was branded into his hip when they caught him with the rest of the tribe. “The chief adopted me when I was four, found me somewhere in the desert. And I can assure you I wouldn’t have killed them all if they just let us go. We were a friendly tribe, only in quarrels with the Comanche and Kree.” Stark nodded in agreement “The military types over here are mostly assholes. Always want to get my layouts before anyone else. Don’t worry I won’t tell. Now, let’s go back inside. I still owe you a bottle Whisky.” Together, they made their way back in the Saloon and Clint went to go, get the stuff from his camp, while Tony greeted the first guests.