I groaned as hit the ground again, my body sticky with sweat. "Please tell me you are at least sweating after that." I huff out as I stare up at Hawkeye, him standing over me and I see that he had sweat on his face. His breathing was also a little off, so I grinned. "Yes!" I sit up and look around. "Okay, now that we know I can survive for a long time in hand to hand, how about we try something else?" I question and he nods, offering out his hand, which I took and he pulled me up. "You've got a grip." I mutter, shaking my hand slightly as I follow him over to the shooting range, out of the boxing rink.
"Let's see how well you shoot." He offers me a small pistol, which I take and glance down the range at the target.
"Well, knowing you, you could've shot it bull's eye without even looking." I proclaim and he raises an eyebrow. He holds out his hand and I give him the pistol, which he quickly points down the range and fires, his eyes never leaving mine. Once the bullet leaves the chamber, I glance at the target to frown at it. A small hole was right in the middle of the target. "Told you." Hawkeye chuckles and hands me back the pistol, which I take and aim at the target, firing off a shot, which was on the paper, a little to the right of the center. I fire again and get a little bit closer.
"Don't think and aim at the same time." Hawkeye whispers and I find that he is right behind me. He places his hands over mine, his cheek against mine. One thing was for sure, I lost my train of thought and couldn't conjure a single thought. "Just see your target. Know where they are, and then think about them. And only them." I look at the target and picture it, thinking of only the round center that had a bullet hole already through it. "Now shoot." Hawkeye's voice floods my senses and I pull the trigger, the bullet cutting through the air before digging deeper into the middle. Hawkeye steps back and I take a deep breath in, realizing that I had been holding my breath the entire time he was behind me.
"Is that your secret?" I ask softly, turning to look at him, and he nods.
"Try again. I'm going to watch." Hawkeye orders and I glance back at the target, thinking about the target and only the target. The hole with two bullets. The ripping paper. I cock it before pulling it, letting the bullet fly, and it hits center again. "Good. Now you have the aim. Now you just need two more things." Hawkeye heads over the weapons rack and I follow, gazing at all of the weapons.
"What else can you show me how to use?" My eyes lock on a compound bow, which I picked up, surprised by the lightness of the sleek black metal. Hawkeye spots me holding it and reaches for it, probably to take it, but he stops. "What does it take to be really good at this?" I whisper, looking up at him as our hands touched.
He coughed and looked at the weapon in our hands. "It doesn't take much. Just practice. That and some accuracy and precision."
"Accuracy and precision, huh? Wanna teach me?" I smirk as he coughs and nods, heading back over to the range, grabbing a sheath full of metal tipped arrows. He takes the bow and quickly fires an arrow, which hits the target dead center, just like the bullets. He shoots two more, each landing right beside the first.
"Accuracy, is getting them all in the same place. Precision is getting it in the same place frequently. Put them together and you get deadly." He hands me the sheath or arrows and hands out the bow to me, which I take gingerly. "I will be right back. Try to copy me." And with that, Hawkeye heads off. I frown before going over to a new shooting range, a new target, a new line of view. I breath in slowly and empty my mind, drawing the bow, which was harder than he made it appear. I drew it back as much as I could before thinking of the target, releasing the arrow, which hit dead center. I smirked before doing it two more times, hitting the areas right beside the first. Just like Hawkeye.
"She could give you a run for your money, Clint." A voice murmured and I turned around, drawing another arrow, which was now pointed at a woman with reddish hair, a black, skin-tight outfit adorning her body, along with a gun and holster. "You must be Ghost." The woman states and I nod, un-drawing the bow. Hawkeye was right beside her, watching me. "I am Agent Romanoff, or Black Widow for my code-name."
"It's nice to meet you." I say and hold a hand out towards her, which she shakes.
"Isn't this her first day training?" Romanoff questions and Hawkeye nods. "Okay, so we obviously know her abilities with fighting, but what about endurance. Let's go for a run." Romanoff orders and I quickly hand the bow off to Hawkeye as she dashes off. Hawkeye puts them away before catching up with us, him beside me as Black Widow was ahead of us, creating a path for us to take.
We ran for an hour, afterwards going over to the monkey bars on the ceiling, to strengthen my upper arms. It didn't take me long until I fell off of those and onto the mats below, which I had to do push-ups and sit-ups on until I passed out, waking up in a room similar to Hawkeye's. Hawkeye was in there, sitting on the desk as Black Widow was in the chair in the corner, both watching me. "Drink some water." Hawkeye orders, handing me a small metal cup. I drank it greedily before putting it down, sitting up. "You've done good today. Tomorrow, we can work on that ability of yours and how to adapt it to your fighting." He proclaims and I nod.
"We can try now." I mumble, phasing out of my body, which laid back down on the ground. My ethereal form hovered over to Hawkeye, who got goosebumps before I phased back into my body. I sit up again and Hawkeye watches me.
"Yes, I think if we just developed it more into the point where you could either scout ahead or even be able to move things in your form, then you would be a really good agent. Better than some." Hawkeye murmurs, thinking deeply about the topic as Romanoff watches me, a smirk on her face.
She then stands up. "I have the perfect idea."
YOU ARE READING
Accuracy and Precision (Clint Barton/Hawkeye Love Story)
Aksiyon"What does it take to be really good at this?" I whisper, looking up at him as our hands touched. He coughed and looked at the weapon in our hands. "It doesn't take much. Just practice. That and some accuracy and precision." "Accuracy and precision...
