Title: Playing House
Fandom: Hawkeye Comics
Pairing Clint Barton/Kate Bishop
Word Count: 17, 187
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: abduction, involuntary drugging, cults, swearing, explicit sexual situations, canon level violence, minor blood and gore, alcohol, injuries, eye injury, ableism.
Written for: Iddy Iddy Bang Bang 2023
Summary: Kate and Clint go undercover as newlyweds to save a missing S.H.I.E.L.D. agent from a cult.
Originally Posted: September 14, 2023
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1. →
Clint sat up, sagged against the headboard, put his hand to his throbbing head, and groaned. How many drinks had he had before passing out in bed? Too many, apparently. After a few deep breaths, he felt slightly better. He pushed the blankets aside and saw that he was wearing the same dress slacks and button-down shirt he’d had on when he’d fumbled his way into bed sometime in the wee hours of the morning. His mouth felt dry and cottony but at least the room wasn't spinning anymore. A full glass of water beckoned to him from the bedside table. Kate must have left it there for him because he sure hadn't been in the right state of mind for that kind of advanced planning, that was for sure. He downed the water in one long gulp. He checked the time on his phone, he saw that it was almost noon.
The bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam that gently wafted through the room. Kate waltzed in wearing one of those fancy hotel robes, her hair still damp from the shower. “What a night,” Kate signed. She'd obviously been practicing, her ASL had gotten a lot better since the last time they worked together. She was also seriously understating the situation.
Fumbling around for the case he put his hearing aids in before he went to bed, Clint said, “Kinda downplaying the whole situation here, Hawkeye. Don’t you think?” He found the box in the side table drawer. Slipping the hearing aids into his ears, he winced as the start-up jingle chimed too loudly.
Kate opened her suitcase and pulled out some clothes. “Look at it this way, Hawkeye, at least this isn’t the result of another one of your poor life choices.” She beamed. “It’s a mission.”
He ignored her dig about his mess of a life and watched as she dropped her robe. Right there in front of him. After a beat, he averted his eyes and stared down at the gold band on his left ring finger. Oh god, how had he let S.H.I.E.L.D. talk him into this one? An undercover mission that required him and Kate to pretend to be newlyweds? What the hell had he been thinking when he’d said yes to that madness? He sighed and remembered the missing agent they were being sent to find and hopefully retrieve. Okay, maybe he wasn’t that stupid. He didn’t know Agent Hudson well, but he’d met her in passing and she’d always struck him as a genuinely kind person with a good head on her shoulders.
Clint looked up to see that Kate had pulled on a lovely light purple sundress. “Are we going somewhere?” Clint asked.
Kate finished pulling her hair into a ponytail. “Brunch, remember?”
He did not remember. Clint closed his eyes. Images from the night before swirled through his head. Kate spinning around the dance floor as her dress twirled around her -- her pulling him close, lips on his as cameras flashed from somewhere in the crowd. They’d gone to a few clubs after the ceremony under the directive of being seen by as many people as possible. Though fake, their marriage was supposed to look legit on paper and off. He shook his head in an effort to clear the memories away.
“It’s all part of the Love & Happiness Package. Along with last night’s ceremony, we get digital pics, a keepsake video, and a three-day honeymoon complete with daily brunch and dinner. Vegas rocks!” Kate pulled him out of bed and pushed him towards the bathroom. “Now, go take a shower and get dressed, your wife is hungry.” She winked at him before turning away.
*
Brunch was buffet-style in the over-the-top way that Vegas did best. He’d loaded his oversized plate with crab legs, shrimp, a big slab of filet mignon, several sushi rolls, and a sizable stack of bacon. Kate was already at the table, her plate filled with fresh fruit, several slices of bacon, and five different amazing-looking pastries. He must've made a face because Kate got all defensive at him.
“It’s my honeymoon, I can eat all the pastries I want.” Kate took a bite of something filled with strawberries and what looked like whipped cream.
Clint’s stomach rumbled. “Is that strawberry shortcake?”
Kate nodded before shoveling another forkful into her mouth.
Clint stood. “Back in a sec.” He’d said sec, right? Not sex? He shook his head, grabbed another plate, and filled it with a generous helping of strawberry shortcake. He also grabbed a couple of chocolate croissants and a giant wedge of chocolate cake with some kind of jam in between the layers for good measure. Kate’s eyes went wide when he returned to the table with his treasure trove of pastries.
They ate their fill until the buffet closed at three in the afternoon and they were all ushered away. The rest of the afternoon was spent in the casino, happily gambling away S.H.I.E.L.D.’S money. Kate hung on his arm as he played blackjack and no fewer than four different people asked to have their pictures taken with the famous superhero newlyweds. Which was the actual point of this whole very public display of their supposed affection. They needed to be seen together by as many people as possible and there needed to be no question of the legitimacy of their joyous union. Clint didn’t love all the attention they were getting but he knew the mission, so he hung his arm over Kate’s shoulder and smiled for the cameras.
*
Kate stumbled as she pushed him against their hotel room door. Either she’d had more to drink than he’d realized or she was better at this undercover thing than she’d been letting on. Clint fumbled the keycard out of his pocket and it dropped to the floor. Smooth, Barton. Real smooth. Kate chose that moment to slide one hand under his shirt, while she steadied herself with the other hand on his bicep. He held his breath as her fingers lightly brushed along his skin.
He should’ve stopped her. At least that was what his head was telling him. He’d carefully drawn the boundary between them years ago. Friends, partners, and nothing else. There'd been a minor slip-up a couple of years earlier. A mostly chaste kiss under the mistletoe. No tongue but it had lasted nearly a minute. He'd had a couple of beers too many and she'd been standing there under the mistletoe looking so beautiful and perfect. They didn't talk about it and he'd been extra careful not to cross the line ever since.
Making out wasn’t a thing they did. It was a thing he wanted to do. He was only human. Kate was smart, talented, and incredibly beautiful. She understood him better than pretty much anyone else and they worked well together. Which was why he’d told himself (and anyone else who asked) that he had absolutely no desire to sleep with her. It was a lie, of course, but sex screwed things up and he really didn’t want to screw things up with Kate.
Clint saw the flash a moment before he spotted the cameraman running down the hall. Realization dawned on him. So, that was what this was about. It wasn’t real. Of course, it wasn’t real. Kate was putting on a show for the camera. It was all part of the mission. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Except, she was still touching him. The photographer was gone and she was still touching him. She pressed herself against him, her lips crushed against his, her tongue in his mouth. It was all so quick, it barely lasted a second and then she was gone. Kate took a step back, bent down, and picked up the keycard. Missing her touch already, Clint reached out to pull her to him, and for a moment, she let him. After a beat, she pulled away, opened the door, and pulled him inside their suite.
The door clicked shut. Kate tossed the keycard on the table, grabbed the television remote, and flopped down on the couch as if she hadn’t just had her tongue in his mouth. “Wanna watch a movie? I think I saw some microwave popcorn in the minibar.”
For a moment, Clint stood there in stunned silence. She’d turned it off like a switch. He shook his head. “Um, no. Thanks. I think I’m gonna shower and head to bed. It’s been a long couple of days.” Clint saw her shrug as she turned back to the TV and he went to take a very long and possibly very cold shower.
2. →
Kate watched the rain wash over the tinted windows, her hand in Clint’s as they rode in the backseat of a cab on the way to their new home on the West Coast. It was fake of course. The apartment was real but it was all staged by S.H.I.E.L.D.. And while Kate had seen photos, she had yet to step inside. She didn’t even know how much of the stuff inside was theirs and how much was newly purchased for the occasion. She was pretty confident that S.H.I.E.L.D. was carefully curating their images for this mission.
Kate sighed and Clint gently squeezed her hand. Did he mean for it to be a reassuring gesture or was it just for show? They were supposed to act like a couple even when they were alone. No, not just a couple, they were supposed to act like newlyweds, which meant a lot of touching, kissing, and generally not being able to keep their hands off of each other. None of this was real, no matter how much she longed for it to be. She would do well to remember that. Kate sighed again. She was so good at giving herself pep talks.
The driver pulled up to a cute little green and blue townhouse. According to the briefing, they’d be staying in one of the second-floor units in the back. Best part? They were only a short walk to the beach. It wasn’t all that far from their old West Coast Avengers Headquarters, hopefully, her favorite taco truck was still around. “Home sweet home,” Kate said. She let go of Clint’s hand, tipped the driver, and got out of the cab, leaving the bags for Clint to deal with. She paused in front of the door to their new place, turned to Clint, and nudged him with her shoulder. “You should pick me up.”
Clint looked at her like she’d grown a second, third, and fourth head. “I should what?”
Kate fished her keys out of her bag. “So you can carry me over the threshold.” She shook her head. “You’re the one who’s been married before. You should know these things.”
“Seriously?” Clint put the bags down.
“Newlyweds,” she reminded him. Not that she actually cared about that particular weird and vaguely sexist tradition. She did think it'd be funny to make Clint go through with it though. Or maybe she was still a little hungover. Their whirlwind Vegas wedding and three-day honeymoon had been a lot.
They’d caught a few shows, danced some, gambled a little on S.H.I.E.L.D.’S dime, and ate out a bunch. She'd enjoyed it immeasurably. Of course, she'd also managed to throw herself at Clint right outside their hotel room, making a complete fool of herself in the process. Luckily she stopped herself before getting any further than a little light petting and a whole lot of kissing. She was very proud of her self-restraint. She hadn't wanted to stop. Kissing Clint felt like coming home and now she didn’t want to leave.
Clint exhaled audibly, shaking Kate out of her melancholy self-reflection. He shook his head, opened the door, and shoved their baggage inside. Oh my god, he was really gonna do it. Swooping in, he picked her up and carried her over the threshold. It was awesome. Tossing her head back, Kate laughed.
Her laughter fizzled out when it became obvious they weren’t alone. The Black Widow sat in their new kitchen, drinking what Kate was really hoping was coffee. She smacked Clint on the arm. “Put me down.” He set her down slowly and nodded to Natasha. Kate shut the door and sniffed the air. “Am I hallucinating or is that coffee I smell?”
“Phantosmia,” Natasha said mysteriously.
Kate and Clint turned to each other and said “What?”
“Olfactory hallucinations are called phantosmia,” Natasha held up her mug and nodded in Kate’s direction. “No, it’s not happening to you, and yes that is coffee you smell.” She waved a hand towards the counter on the other side of the room where a full pot of coffee waited. “Help yourselves.”
Kate found mugs in the top cabinet, sugar in a cute little bowl by the coffee maker, and a carton of half-and-half in the mostly empty refrigerator. She filled two mugs full of the beloved brew and handed one to Clint. He’d taken a seat at the kitchen table across from Natasha. Kate trailed her fingers along his shoulders before dropping a kiss on his cheek and taking the seat beside him.
Natasha crossed her legs and picked up her cup. “Okay children, for the duration of my hopefully short visit and for one hour after, you will be able to speak freely. After this time is up, you will need to maintain your covers at all times. Luckily for the two of you, your covers should be easy to remember." Natasha took a moment to sip her coffee. "You get to be yourselves, just with an added layer of marriage on top.”
Kate gave a thumbs up and hoped she didn't look too excited about the prospect of playing the part of Clint Barton's wife. “Yay us?” She blew on her coffee but it was still too hot to drink. “So, what you’re saying is that even when we’re alone, we need to act like we’re not?”
Natasha leaned forward. “Assume you’re never alone.”
On the one hand, Kate didn't like the idea that someone might be spying on them closely enough that they'd have to continue their facade behind closed doors, yet on the other hand, any excuse to touch and kiss Clint was a good one in her book.
Clint leaned forward. “Is that really necessary?”
“Given the scant intel we have on this group, we have to assume that anything's possible. Anything at all. Do not break cover under any circumstances.” Natasha took another sip of her coffee. “Do not, in any way let on that you’re not a real couple." Natasha gave Clint a pointed look. "Don’t even joke about not really being married.”
Kate raised her hand as if she were about to ask a particularly terrifying teacher to clarify a math problem or something. “Exactly how married are we supposed to look?”
Natasha elegantly shrugged a shoulder. “It depends.”
Kate waited for her to finish the sentence but apparently, that was it. “It depends on what?”
“Whatever situation you happen to find yourselves in. The mission must be preserved. An agent’s life is at stake.” Natasha put her mug down. “We’ve been trying to get someone into this community for years and they’ve only grown larger and more worrisome over time. Blue Haven bills itself as an intentional community with benevolent intentions. They have an office in L.A. and everything looks above board, up to a point.”
Kate leaned back in her chair. “What happened to the agent.” She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like the answer.
Natasha pulled out a photo. “Agent Emily Hudson was accepted by Blue Haven seven months ago. No one's seen or heard from her since. There have been no pings on her credit cards, no one's tried to access her bank accounts, and her phone has ceased to exist.”
“Could she have joined them for real?” Kate wondered.
“It’s possible but unlikely. Agent Hudson has a wife and a three-year-old son. She might not have a way to leave or she could be dead. We're really hoping she's not dead.” Natasha handed Kate the photo. “Either way, we want to know what happened. If she is alive, we want her back. With your help, we can get her family the closure they need.”
“Nat, is there anything you can tell us about this group? What are we walking into?” Clint asked. He seemed perfectly calm but under the table, his leg was vibrating. Kate put her hand on his thigh and he stilled.
“We know they keep to themselves and that they have a nice and very normal-looking office where you can get information about their lovely little community but once people move in, their families never see them again. Some have been missing for years.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” Clint fiddled with some papers that were on the table.
Kate frowned.“No, it doesn’t.”
“We know they don’t like magic or superpowers. They don’t seem to be big fans of most modern technology either,” Natasha continued.
“How tech-adverse are they?” Kate asked.
“We don’t know. As per the brochures, cell phones and computers are banned from the community. We don’t know if it’s because they don’t want members to be able to contact outsiders, or because they have an ethical or ideological objection to the tech itself.”
Crap. “Clint’s hearing aids?”
“Unknown. They could be allowed or he may need to leave them behind.” Natasha got up and refilled her coffee. “How’s your ASL coming along, Kate?”
Clint shifted in his chair. “Pretty sure it’s better than mine these days.”
“Then, the two of you should be fine.” They ironed out a few more details and then Natasha was on her way, leaving them alone with only one hour left to have a real conversation before having to be husband and wife twenty-four-seven for the foreseeable future.
*
Ignoring the sudden butterflies in her stomach, Kate set the timer on her phone for an hour and put it down on the table. “Anything you want to make sure we cover in the next hour?” Clint stared at the numbers counting down on her phone. Kate sighed. Might as well rip the bandaid right off. “I think we should tackle the sex issue first.”
Clint’s head snapped up. “What sex issue?” He picked up his mug, saw that it was empty, and got up to get a refill. “There’s no sex issue to talk about. We don’t need to have sex to keep our cover. Forget about what Nat said. S.H.I.E.L.D. just likes to make sure their bases are covered for liability reasons. It’s ridiculous. Who’s gonna even know if we’re having sex or not?”
Kate stared at the table. She so did not want to be having this conversation. She rubbed her fingers along a deep scratch carved into the table’s wood. “The point is, it’s not off the table - sex that is.” Kate really hoped she wasn’t blushing. She glanced up and saw that Clint wasn’t even looking at her. He was busy making another pot of coffee. “So, I think we should discuss the possibility however improbable it might be.”
Clint turned and leaned against the counter as the coffee maker did its thing. “Fine, let’s talk about sex.” With his arms crossed in front of his chest, he didn't look like he wanted to talk about anything, let alone sex.
Kate drained her coffee and gazed at the bottom of her empty mug so she didn’t have to look Clint in the eyes. “I’m fine with us having sex if it’s necessary for the mission. It’s not that big of a deal.” The words rushing out of her mouth tasted like lies.
“Not that big of a deal?” Clint sounded incredulous.
“What I mean is we’re both grown-ups.” Kate looked up from her empty mug. Clint raised an eyebrow. The coffee machine gurgled.
“Fine. We’re both legal adults. That better?” Kate got up to get a refill. She needed all the caffeine she could get for this conversation.
“Sounds more accurate,” Clint said. Kate playfully punched him in the arm. “Anyway, what I’m saying is that us having sex should be fine. We’re friends. I trust you. I’m not worried about any of that. What I am worried about is - what if it’s a sex cult? I don’t want to have to have sex with random strangers, crazy cultists, or their charismatic yet creepy leader.”
Clint splashed coffee all over the counter. “Wait. What?”
Kate found a roll of paper towels under the sink. “You heard Natasha, they don’t know anything about these people. They’re not even sure it is a cult, never mind what kind of cult it could be.” She cleaned up the counter, filled Clint’s mug, and handed it to him. “For all we know they have orgies every weekend or have every woman marry the leader or something. Cults and sex go hand in hand. I don’t want to have to sleep with a bunch of strangers to preserve my cover.”
“That’s not gonna happen.” Clint put the mug down and managed not to spill anything this time. “I won’t let it happen.”
“How?” She loved the sentiment but wasn’t sure how he thought he was going to pull it off.
“Easy. I’m a jealous husband and I don’t like to share.”
That could work. Kate smiled. “That’s brilliant, Hawkeye.” He pulled her into an embrace and she finally released some of the tension she'd been holding onto.
Several minutes later, something occurred to her. “I don’t want you to sleep with anyone either - cultists, cult leaders, or anyone else.” She stared at Clint’s shoes so she didn’t have to look at whatever expression was on his face. “I know this isn’t real, but I don’t want to be cheated on, not even pretend.” Shit was he seeing anyone right now? She didn’t think so but should she have checked?” She looked up to see Clint giving her a weird look. “Um, you’re not seeing anyone seriously right now or anything are you?”
“Not seeing anyone, seriously or otherwise,” Clint said.
“Okay, good. Sorry, I just don’t want to do that to someone else either.”
“Understandable.”
They ironed out a few other details and by the end of the hour, they may not have had a plan exactly but they had something that was plan-like for sure.
3. →
Clint couldn’t stop thinking about sex. It'd been three weeks since they’d had the talk. Three weeks of living under the same roof, sleeping in the same bed, and sharing all the same meals. Together. They’d even cuddled on the sofa and held hands on numerous occasions now. It’d been a very distracting three weeks. Kate had even taken to giving him quick casual kisses at random times of the day. It was driving him mad.
It wasn’t as if this was his first time living with Kate. She’d crashed on his couch many times over the years and they’d all lived under the same roof back when they were doing the West Coast Avengers thing. None of that had prepared him for this.
He’d agreed that casual demonstrations of affection were a good idea, in theory anyway. It made sense. They were supposed to come off as newlyweds, not some old married couple that barely looked at each other anymore. But damn, it was seriously doing a number on his head. And his libido.
Kate walked into the room brandishing a handful of take-out menus. “I’ve narrowed it down to Paul’s Pizza, Jade Gardens, or that new empanada place down the street. What are you in the mood for?”
He was in the mood to bend her over the couch and — he needed to put a stop to that line of thought right away. He shook his head, trying to clear away the very vivid images dancing around his brain. Food, she’d asked him about food. They’d had pizza last night and they still had leftovers from Jade Gardens in the fridge. Something different might be cool. “I could go for some empanadas.”
“Awesome, I've been wanting to give them a try.” Kate leaned down and gave him an all too quick and chaste kiss. He barely managed to keep from slipping his tongue into her mouth. “Want me to just order a mix of things so we can try a little bit of everything?” Kate asked.
Clint had to remind himself they were talking about food. “Sounds good.” They’d been going a little wild going out to eat and indulging in take-out ever since S.H.I.E.L.D. had so generously padded their bank accounts.
He was halfway through his third beef and cheese empanada when the air went staticky. Seconds later a star-shaped portal opened in the middle of the living room. America Chavez stomped through, pointed at him, and slammed her fist into her hand. She looked livid. Clint shrugged. What'd he do this time? America shook her head at him, grabbed Kate, and pulled her through the portal. Clint stared blankly as the portal closed and then disappeared altogether.
*
Luckily, Kate managed to keep her lunch in her stomach as she swayed in place for several seconds. Portal hopping, while extremely convenient, was murder on the stomach. After the swishy feeling had passed, she took a moment to check out her surroundings. She was in the center of a small clearing in the middle of an oddly colored forest, where instead of the greens and browns of normal foresty places, the dominant colors were orange and pink. She didn’t hate it. Directly across from her, hands crossed in front of her chest; stood her inter-dimensional traveling BFF, America Chavez. “Where are we?” Kate asked.
“The Bean Bean forest, somewhere in the Zero dimension.”
“What?” Kate shook her head. “You know what, never mind. Why are we here?” That seemed to be the more pertinent question.
“Because it’s a pain in the ass to get to, which means it’s probably safe for us to talk.”
“Okay.” Kate looked down at her hands, saw she was still holding her ham and cheese empanada, and took a bite. “Is this going to be a long conversation? Should I sit?” Kate looked down at the pink grass-like substance under her feet. “Is it even safe to sit down here?”
“Safe enough.” America sat down and crossed her legs. “Just don’t lick the trees.”
Kate blinked. “How often does that even come up?”
America raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised.”
Kate sat down, finished her empanada, and wiped her hands on her jeans. “Okay, what’s so important that you needed to kidnap me to some strange Bean Bean dimension?”
“Bean Bean’s the forest, Zero’s the dimension,” America corrected.
Kate crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You totally made that up.”
America shrugged. “You'll never prove it.”
Kate rolled her eyes. As long as it wasn’t the giant shrimp dimension they’d dumped a bunch of vampires into, it probably didn’t matter what the place was called. “What do you need to tell me?”
“That you’re an idiot.” America leaned back on her hands. “What were you thinking, taking this assignment? Hill said you volunteered, is that true?” America sounded wildly outraged.
“There’s a woman in danger!”
America stood up. “She might be in danger, or she might’ve defected and joined that cult for real.”
Kate looked up. “The cult that may or may not actually be a cult?”
“Oh, it’s definitely a cult, I don’t care what S.H.I.E.L.D. told you. They’ve already lost one agent to it.” America started pacing.
“Which is why I’m going.” Not wanting to be the only one sitting on the pink grass, Kate got up.
America stopped her pacing and put her hands on her hips. “Right, and it has nothing to do with Barton? At all?”
Of course, it did. “It doesn’t matter, it’s been three weeks of interviews and paperwork and nothing. I don’t think they’re taking the bait.” Kate tried not to sound disappointed.
“If only we could be that lucky. We have reasonably good intel that Blue Haven will be bringing you into the fold very soon.”
"We? Since when did you become a part of this mission?"
"I'm your extraction."
An intense feeling of foreboding settled over Kate. "They think the cult's base is somewhere in a different dimension?"
"Yup." The look on America's face was grim.
"Fuck." Well, that was one way to keep your cult members from escaping. "So, what's the plan?"
"You get three weeks to find Agent Hudson, then I swoop in and bring you all home."
"How will you find us?"
America pulled a necklace with two small vials attached out from inside her shirt. "S.H.I.E.L.D. took blood samples from you and Barton and had someone magic it with a tracking spell. I should be able to use it to find you."
"Should?" Kate had been hoping for something with more surety.
"It's magic, not science." America stepped closer and bumped her shoulder to Kate's. "So, how are things going with Barton?"
"Things are fine." Kate didn't really want to talk about her feelings for Clint, not even with her best friend. "It's just a mission."
"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, maybe you'll even start believing it."
"It's fine, really." Kate shuffled her feet. "Do I have feelings for Clint? Yes, of course, but it's not a big deal. I can handle this. Really."
America shook her head. “I worry about you, Princess.” It'd been a while since America had called her Princess. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it.
“I love you too. And I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve got this.”
“Uh, huh.” America slowly pulled away. “You tell Barton, that if he hurts you I’ll boot his ass into the sun.”
Kate shook her head and smiled. America rubbed her hands together. “Okay, stay safe, and see you in three weeks.” She kicked a star-shaped portal into existence and pushed Kate through.
*
Somehow Clint managed not to eat all the food during the twenty minutes she was gone. He'd come close though. Kate claimed the last of the empanadas and tried to figure out a way to tell him the new developments in the mission without breaking their cover.
Clint turned on the television while Kate closed the blinds on the windows and grabbed them each a beer, before settling down next to him on the couch. She finished the first beer while he was still channel surfing. This was definitely going to be a multiple-drink kind of night. “Need another beer?”
He shook his head. “Nah, still drinking this one.” Clint eyed her as she rinsed out her bottle and dropped it in the recycling bin. “You okay?”
Brushing aside his concern, she unscrewed the cap off her second bottle and took a swig. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He was staring at her so she added, “America’s kinda pissed at you though.”
Clint raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, the whole having her best friend elope and not getting invited to the wedding, has her in a mood.”
“I told you to invite her,” Clint said. He hadn’t. He was playing along with the conversation that she’d started. Either that or he’d forgotten and was just saying what he thought she wanted to hear.
Clint settled on some Dog Cop reruns while Kate drank her second beer. It took her less than one twenty-minute episode for her to finish. In a desperate attempt to quell her growing anxiety, she got up to get another bottle but as she walked past him, Clint grabbed her arm and tugged her onto his lap.
Okay, this looked bad. She adjusted her position and ended up sitting face-to-face while straddling him. She wiggled just a little and Clint groaned. Yeah, this was definitely bad. Or was it very good? Maybe this was just what they needed to break the sexual tension that'd been building between them.
Clint ran a finger down the side of her face while with his other hand, he signed “What?” He kept his hand close to his body so it would be hard for anyone who might be spying on them to be able to see what he was signing.
She tried not to lean into his touch. “Soon,” Kate signed.
“We’re in?” Clint asked. Kate inhaled sharply when Clint’s knuckles grazed her left nipple. Had that been on purpose? By the look in his eyes, it hadn’t. He barely made contact, yet his touch sent small pleasure waves throughout her body. He didn’t move his hand away and she didn’t lean back. Instead, she leaned in closer and let her lips brush kisses along the side of his jaw, his stubble lightly prickling her lips.
Kate barely managed to fingerspell her way into explaining how they’d have three weeks with the cult before their extraction. She really hoped he got the message. After that, things may have gotten a little out of control. She thrust her hips. She could feel him, hard and insistent. He wanted her. Had he always been lying when he said he didn't want to sleep with her or was this desire new? She slid to the floor, unsnapped his jeans, and slid down his zipper. She had always wanted to do this, always wanted to taste him. She lost herself in the feel of him. In the way he called her name, his voice heavy with need, his hand in her hair.
He moved so quickly she barely had time to realize what was happening, and then she was on the floor, jeans gone, as Clint kissed her through her panties before pulling them off and tossing them somewhere behind him. He paused at her entrance as if waiting for permission.
"Clint, please." She'd wanted this for so long, imagined it countless times while alone in bed. His tongue did some crazy magic along her nipples that had her nerves dancing on edge. "Please, fuck me." He shifted his hips, slowly inching his way in. Legs wrapped around him, fingernails digging into his back, Kate whimpered at the need building inside of her. Unlike most things in life, it was even better than she'd imagined.
Eventually, they made it to the bedroom. They'd even managed to get a couple of hours of sleep before desire got the best of them again.
Sometime after sunrise, there was a knock at the door. Kate looked at Clint, but having taken his hearing aids out to sleep, he hadn’t heard a thing. She nudged him and signed, “Someone’s knocking on the door.” Clint sat up. Kate shook her head and grabbed her robe. “I’ll go.” She needed a glass of water anyway. She was about to look through the peephole when the door busted open and several armed men pushed their way in. Everything happened so fast. She didn’t have time to grab a weapon before one of the men pulled a syringe out from his jacket and jabbed it into her arm. She was out cold before she hit the floor.
*
The moment Kate told him someone was knocking on the door, he was hit with a deep sense of unease. Getting out of bed, Clint grabbed a clean pair of boxers out of the top drawer, pulled them on, and headed out of the bedroom. From the way the floor vibrated under his bare feet, he could tell that several individuals wearing heavy boots were inside the apartment. He grabbed a large stone paperweight from a nearby shelf and headed to the kitchen. He turned the corner just in time to see Kate hit the floor. It felt like a punch to the gut.
The first thug tried to grab him but wasn’t fast enough. Unfortunately, the second one surprised Clint from behind and stabbed him with a syringe. He did manage to hit the guy on the head with the paperweight before whatever drugs they shot him up with sent him to join Kate in unconsciousness, though.
4. →
He woke up inside the trunk of a car, a still unconscious Kate tucked in neatly beside him. They were neither restrained nor wearing much in the way of clothing. Kate was still in her robe and he was wearing the boxers he’d put on just before he’d been jabbed with the syringe. Why was he awake? He had no idea how much time had passed but he didn’t think it'd been that long. His mouth felt dry but not excessively so. He couldn’t have been out for more than an hour. He knew all too well what waking up after several hours of unconsciousness felt like. This wasn’t it.
Feeling along the inside of the trunk, he realized that he could get out if he wanted to. If Kate were awake he might even give it a go but with her still out he couldn’t risk it. Was this connected to the cult they were trying to get into? Would they really drug and kidnap potential members? That seemed a bit extreme. Still, he couldn’t risk fucking up the mission no matter how much the current situation sucked. Sometimes he hated his job.
He didn’t have his hearing aids. He hadn't had them in when they'd hit him with the syringe and it wasn’t like the goons gave them time to pack. Fine, whatever. They already knew the cult had issues with tech. Being without them was always a possibility with this mission. It didn't matter. He'd make it work.
Clint adjusted Kate’s robe to better cover her. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and even in the dark of the trunk it was a distraction. And to think only a few hours ago, they’d been having sex. Absolutely amazing sex. There’d been a time when he'd told himself that maybe if the two of them had sex once, he'd get it - get her, out of his system and it would be fine. No more distractions. He'd stop wanting her. Stop craving her - and apparently, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Now that it had happened he knew he’d never get her out of his system. Even drugged, kidnapped, and stuck in a trunk, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way she smelled, the way she tasted, the way she wrapped her mouth around his-
The car stopped. He could feel the doors slam and a few seconds later, the trunk opened and light stabbed him in the eyes. He quickly closed them, feigning oblivion.
*
Someone wearing high heels nudged him in the side with their foot. Clint ignored it. Another nudge came and he ignored that one too. The third nudge was more insistent and felt like a jab. Figuring whoever it was already knew he was awake, he opened his eyes. A woman dressed in an expensive-looking white pantsuit looked down at him. Her lips were moving but he couldn’t figure out what she was saying from his position on the floor. It was much harder to read lips upside down. Pointing to his ears he said, “Sorry, can’t hear you. I didn’t get a chance to grab my hearing aids before your goons snatched me and dumped me in their trunk.” He said it with a smile on his face but he had a hard time keeping the bitterness out of his voice.
The woman glared at him like all this was somehow his fault. She pointed to something off to the side and said "Sit --" along with a couple of other words he didn't manage to get. Clint rose and saw the couch the woman had pointed towards. He gently picked Kate up off the floor. She was still unconscious and he didn’t like it one bit. Setting Kate down, he settled beside her, arranging her head so that it rested comfortably on his legs. He grabbed the blanket that rested on the back of the couch and spread it over her before turning back to face their host/captor. She was attractive but despite her smile, there was cruelty in her eyes. His gut feeling told him that she wasn’t a very nice person. Leaning back, one arm on the back of the couch, the other resting on Kate’s back, Clint flashed the woman a smile.
The woman held out a stack of printouts held together with staples. A rulebook maybe? Not exactly slick and professional. He flipped through it awkwardly without taking his hand from Kate’s back. On the cover, it said: BLUE HAVEN RULES AND REGULATIONS in big block letters on a background of blue sky and white clouds. Very original.
He skimmed the pages. Most of it was boring and stupid but some of it really pissed him off. “What about my hearing aids?” He asked. The woman pointed a sharp nail on the paper in front of him. It said no electronic devices. Well, that was that then. He thought about arguing but in the end figured it might be better to use the situation to his advantage. Besides, he wasn’t alone, he had Kate, and she’d finally woken up.
Kate sat up slowly, looked up at him, and oh shit, there was some serious fire in her eyes. She was not happy. “You okay?” She signed.
Clint nodded, “You?” She gave him a half-hearted thumbs up and he rubbed her back. He showed her the rulebook and saw the realization hit her. They’d been kidnapped by the cult they’d been trying to infiltrate. They needed to tread lightly and act like they actually wanted to be there despite the whole kidnapping and drugging thing.
*
Kate pulled her robe closed. Dammit. She really wanted to tear into this lady but this was the mission. All this pretending to get married and playing house with Clint wasn't for fun and games, it was so they could infiltrate this cult, find Agent Emily Hudson, and bring her home. She couldn’t fuck this up. Of course, the whole kidnapping and drugging thing would upset pretty much anyone, even the eager wannabe cultist Kate was currently pretending to be. So, a little antagonism was to be expected.
She leveled her eyes at the woman in white. She’d taken a seat across from them. “Why kidnap us, why not send an acceptance letter or something?” She made sure to sign everything she was saying as well as whatever words came out of their captor's mouth. She wanted to make sure Clint didn't get left out of the conversation.
“Kidnapping is such a harsh word,” The woman said.
Ya think? “Do you have a better one?” Kate shook her head. She wasn’t even going to get into the drugging. What if she’d been allergic to whatever it was they'd injected her with? What then?
“We retrieved you in the most efficient manner possible at the time.” The woman crossed her legs. “You probably should have read the application the two of you signed more closely.”
Kate looked over at Clint. He shrugged. Kate grimaced. She hadn’t exactly gotten to the fine print either. There’d been a lot of it and it wasn’t like she could really not sign it. It was the job. “That doesn’t explain why Clint doesn’t have his hearing aids.” When in doubt, change the subject.
The woman who still hadn’t told them her name cleared her throat. “Electronic devices aren’t allowed at Blue Haven, I believe this was made clear in the interview process.” In her sorta defense the woman did look uncomfortable about that whole thing.
“Uh-huh.” Kate really wanted to argue with the woman but Clint nudged her and shook his head, so she dropped it.
The woman stood. “At the moment you are only provisional members, it will take time to determine if the two of you are worthy of joining Blue Haven's inner circle.” She headed to the door before turning back for a moment. “Read the handbook and get dressed. Orientation is in an hour. This will be your new home, there are clothes for you in the bedroom and food in the kitchen.” She turned her back on them and opened the front door. “We’ll see you in an hour.” Apparently, orientation wasn’t optional.
Kate prowled through the house, giving everything a quick once over. Objectively, one could consider the two-bedroom unit cute, cozy, and inviting. Located on the second floor of a two-family house, there was even a lovely little balcony off of the kitchen. Unfortunately, having been drugged and kidnapped before being brought there had made her less well-disposed towards the place. Stalking to the main bedroom, she went through the closets and dressers, pulled out some clothes, and slammed the last drawer shut. When she turned around, Clint leaned against the doorframe, watching her. “You sure you’re okay?”
"Yeah, just a little groggy still." Kate ran her hand through her hair. “You?"
"I'm fine. I've been awake since the trunk."
Kate blinked. “What trunk? They put us in a trunk?" That was it. It was official. Worst mission ever. "Wait, how come you were awake? Didn't they drug you too?”
"Either they didn't give me a strong enough dose or whatever they used was likely something Bobbi experimented on me with while we were married." Clint shrugged, went through the chest of drawers, pulled out of few pieces of clothing, and tossed them on the bed.
Wait. What? Kate tapped Clint on the arm and he turned to look at her. "Are you saying that your ex-wife did experiments on you?"
"Apparently.” Clint shrugged. “I didn't know any of this until well after our divorce. She told me while we were under the ocean during a mission and then she drugged me again."
What the fuck? There was so much to unpack in that sentence, where could she even begin? “And everyone says you're the problem in relationships?"
“I know, right?”
“I’m gonna take a quick shower before we head to orientation,” Kate signed.
A concerned look crossed Clint’s face. “You sure that’s a good idea? Didn’t you just say you were still groggy?”
“You can always join me.” Kate grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom.
*
Clint grabbed a towel and followed Kate to the shower. This was such a bad idea. He needed to keep his head in the game and Kate was a distraction when she was fully clothed. Naked Kate was a whole other ballgame of distraction. Still, he couldn’t risk her falling in the shower. Not a big deal. He could keep his hands to himself and his eyes where they were supposed to be. It was fine. Kate dropped her robe. He instinctually took a step forward before stopping himself. Okay, maybe it wasn’t fine.
Kate pulled back the cloth shower curtain and turned the water on. After a minute of temperature adjustments during which he was definitely not looking at her ass, she stepped into the shower. Clint took a few deep breaths, pushed his need aside, and followed her in.
They took turns under the steady flow of water. He washed her back, helped her rinse her hair clean, and turned around when she asked to wash his back in return. That last one had been a mistake. Her hands on his skin turned out to be way more arousing than he’d anticipated.
Kate’s eyes drifted down when he turned around. He couldn’t help the grin on his face when she looked up, a faint blush of pink tinting her cheeks. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t just seen each other naked under much more pleasant circumstances a few hours ago. Had it really only been a matter of hours?
Kate moved closer so they were touching, his erection pressed firmly against her belly. “Don’t we have to go to that thing?”
She ran her hands up his chest. “If we’re late, they'll just have to deal with it. I need to forget the whole drugged and brought here against my will thing for a little while.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned up, and brushed kisses along his jaw. Her breath, warm against his skin. “Please, just a few minutes of blissful distraction, that’s all I ask.”
Clint smiled. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?” He cupped the side of her face and kissed her softly. Hands wandered, breaths hitched, and eventually, he pulled away. “Not in the shower, I don't want you slipping, falling, or anything like that.” He turned off the water and they headed to the bedroom.
*
They were only a little late to the mandatory orientation/cookout/pool party, or whatever they were supposed to call it. He wore striped swim shorts and a purple and gray t-shirt he found in the dresser. Everything seemed new but it still felt a little weird to be wearing shit someone else had picked out. They were playing house. This wasn’t their home and these weren’t their things. The neighborhood consisted of eight multi-family homes sharing a dirt path. There were no cars parked outside, no driveways, and no parking lots. In fact, there wasn’t a single car in sight at all. No trees either, just endless lawn that he was pretty sure wasn’t even real. Astroturf or something like it, maybe. Something was seriously off about this place.
A five-minute walk brought them to a small outcropping of houses behind some very tall fencing. The gate was open and inside were four two-story houses, an in-ground pool, and a large fire pit. The woman from earlier greeted them at the gate with a scowl but all he caught from that conversation was the word “late.” Whatever. She’d changed her clothes and now wore an off-white robe over a silver-gray bikini.
The smoke-filled air smelled like charcoal and grease in the best possible of ways. A dark-haired man with a thick mustache and a stern scowl stood at the fire pit flipping meat. Nearby, stood three tables filled with casserole dishes, big bowls of salad, various appetizer plates, and all sorts of condiments and dressings.
Clint’s stomach growled. While Kate socialized, he grabbed a plate, filled it with food, and found a place to sit by the pool. No one that wasn’t Kate paid him more than a moment’s attention, which was fine by him. Leaning back in the lounge chair, he balanced his plate on his lap and watched the crowd.
There were six other new recruits. All of them were women who looked to be somewhere in their twenties. If the lack of rings on their fingers meant anything, they were all single. He glanced at his own ring and felt a longing so intense, that for a moment he couldn’t breathe. It was fucking stupid because he shouldn't be longing for anyone, let alone Kate. He was so phenomenally bad at relationships it bordered on being hilarious. Kate deserved so much better than him.
After an hour, despite all the bathing suits, no one had gone into the pool. Clint scanned the group for Kate and found her talking to a tall redhead with a sweet smile. One of the newbies. She was attractive but the sheer kaftan-type thing Kate was wearing over her bikini kept drawing his attention. It fully covered her while giving him a perfect view of the shape of her underneath. His hands tingled with the memory of her soft curves and warm skin. It was very distracting. She must've caught him watching because several minutes later she joined him by the pool, greeting him with a kiss. It was all a performance, of course, but he let himself get lost in it anyway.
“You okay?” Kate asked when they broke away from the kiss. She tasted like chocolate.
“Did you have dessert?”
“Someone brought brownies, want me to grab you one?”
“Two?”
Kate rolled her eyes and handed him a stack of papers with the Blue Haven logo on them. “Read these, I’ll be back with brownies in a bit.”
Oh, yay, more homework. He glanced at the papers and then set them down on the little plastic table beside him. He’d read them later in private. Probably. He wanted to get more people-watching in before this shindig ended.
Three hours, two cheeseburgers, and four brownies later, Clint had more questions than answers but at least he wasn't hungry anymore. There was something off about the sky. He couldn’t see the sun and while there was plenty of light, it neither felt warm nor was it very bright. If he’d had sunglasses, he wouldn’t have needed them, despite lying poolside at the height of summer.
He’d watched the sky for a while and there’d been no sign of birds, insects, airplanes, or drones. Wherever they were it wasn’t Earth, or it wasn’t their Earth. It was highly likely that they’d gone through a portal and were now in a different dimension. Good thing S.H.I.E.L.D. had brought in Chavez for their exit plan.
*
Kate tossed her sandals in the corner along with her kaftan and bikini. After pulling on a pair of purple sleep shorts and a matching tank top, she stood in front of the open closet door and frowned at the monochromatic view. She liked purple. It was even her favorite color but dammit, it wasn't all she wore.
The Orientation had been weird. A pool party where everyone wore bathing suits yet no one went in the water. The only person that even got close was Clint. He’d made himself at home in a lounge chair by the pool for pretty much the whole visit. No doubt observing everything and everyone.
She found him in the living room looking through a box of record albums. There was a turntable with some impressive-looking speakers but no CD player and no television. Clint looked up at her approach. “Not a lot of choices here, Hawkeye.” He stood and brushed his hands on his pajama bottoms. “We’ve got a little Bing Crosby, some Perry Como, and a heck of a lot of Glen Miller.”
“1940s?” Kate guessed.
“Mostly, from what I can tell. The selection might dip into the early 50s but I haven't found anything more recent than that.”
Kate picked up an album, looked it over, and handed it to Clint. “I don’t understand this place.”
“I think it's supposed to be relaxing.” Clint put the album back into the box. "The whole break from technology thing."
Kate flipped through the rest of the records. “What are we supposed to do all day listen to old-timey music?”
“Don’t forget the board games and puzzles over on the bookshelf.” Clint pointed to the bookcase on the other side of the room.
There was Scrabble, Checkers, Chess, and Sorry. There was also a lovely Backgammon set, along with a wooden box full of dominoes, and two decks of cards. And then there were the books. For non-fiction, there were a couple of books on card games, another few on homemaking, some child-rearing books, a giant tome of a dictionary, and Kinsey’s Sexual Behavior in the Human Male. For fiction their choices were, George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls, and The Lottery and Other Stories by Shirley Jackson. None of which sounded like fun reads.
“And you seem to have a full schedule of activities planned for the next couple of weeks.” Clint handed her a printout. Apparently, she was expected to go to a woman’s meeting, a woman’s luncheon, and a book club. That was just tomorrow’s schedule. Looking ahead she saw cooking classes, painting lessons, and gardening in her future. Almost all of it seemed to be women-only events. “What about you?”
Clint shook his head.
“You’re telling me there isn’t a sheet of paper here with your list of mandatory gatherings?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
This sucked. Kate let him pull her into an embrace and rested her head on his chest. She hated how he wasn’t being included. He rubbed her back and kissed her forehead. She pulled away to look at him. He didn’t seem angry. “I’m sorry,” she signed.
“It’s fine.”
Kate took a step back. “I hate this.”
“Seriously, it’s fine - I’m fine.” Clint cupped the side of her face and bent down for a kiss.
“Everything’s fine?” Kate asked. Clint nodded and she looped her arms around his neck. “So, you thinking scrabble or backgammon?”
“I was thinking bed.”
Kate raised her eyebrows. She knew he didn't mean for sleeping. “Again?”
“Is there another piece of furniture that’s more to your liking?”
Kate plopped down on the couch and bounced up and down. It wasn’t the best of couches but it would probably hold up. “Seems pretty sturdy to me.” She was only half-joking. She had nothing against the bedroom, she simply felt like being contrary. Clint sat down next to her and pulled her onto his lap. Her pulse sped up. This was still so new. Had it really been less than twenty-four hours since they first tipped over the line into sex?
“Know what else is pretty sturdy right now?” Clint’s hands gripped her hips. His touch felt like it would burn right through her clothes and ignite her skin if he held on too long. Still, she didn't want to let go. She'd rather burn.
Kate closed her eyes. “Don’t say it.” Not that he had to say anything. She could feel exactly what he was referring to and how hard it was. And she still remembered how he felt inside her. She opened her eyes. Clint had a huge grin on his face. She ground against him and watched his eyes grow wild. She loved this too much. Loved him. Too much. But damned if she wasn’t going to go all in and enjoy this while she could. She’d deal with the consequences later. After the mission was over.
5. →
Clint couldn't tell what time of day it was by the light filtering in through the bedroom window. Wherever they were didn’t play by the same rules as back home. According to the clock, it was half past noon. He hadn’t intended to stay in bed all morning. Kate had woken him up earlier so they could have sex before she headed out for her many scheduled activities. Something about wanting to fortify herself for the day ahead. Who was he to argue with that kind of logic?
He didn’t have any scheduled activities. No one seemed to care what he did here as long as he didn’t break any of their precious rules. Luckily this rejection worked to his advantage. The less they cared about what he did, the easier it was to skulk around looking for Agent Hudson, without raising suspicion. Not that he’d had any luck finding her so far, but it had only been a week. They still have two more weeks to go.
In the shower, Clint reluctantly washed away the last of Kate’s scent from his skin. He wasn’t sure why they were still having sex, let alone so much of it. Not that he was complaining, he just didn’t think it was necessary for the mission. No one had mentioned their sex life as far as he was aware. No one had questioned the validity of their marriage. He was pretty sure that if the powers that be at Blue Haven had any reason to doubt the legitimacy of their union they’d boot his ass out of their special club without a moment’s hesitation. They barely seemed to want him there, to begin with. In the past week, it’d become clear that they only let him in because he was Kate’s husband.
Fake husband, he reminded himself. It had become all too easy to slip into believing the lie. Especially when he was beginning to wish it wasn’t one.
Since he’d gotten up so late, he skipped his morning run and started the more complicated than necessary coffee-making process. He missed his coffee maker back home. With that, all he had to do after adding water and coffee, was push a button. Here he had grind the coffee beans in a hand-crank grinder and boil water on the stove. That was before even getting to the nitty gritty of coffee making. It took forever and he hated it but at least he had coffee at the end, and he wasn't exactly lacking free time lately.
While he waited for the water to boil, he fixed himself a bowl of cornflakes with a generous helping of sugar added to it along with the milk. By the time the coffee was ready, he’d finished his breakfast. Taking his morning brew with him to the couch, he grabbed a book from the bookshelf and sat down.
*
Kate swung the door closed, hung her bag on the hook by the door and strode over to where Clint sat, feet up, on the sofa; a mug of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. “Hi honey, how was your day?” She signed before plucking the mug out of his hand and taking a gulp of slightly bitter but hugely satisfying coffee.
“I got up late, had breakfast, made coffee, and now I’m getting some much-needed relaxation time in, you?” Clint dog-eared the page he was on and put the book down in his lap.
She waved off his question and picked up the book. It was a rough-looking hardcover with the title emblazoned on the front, Sexual Behavior in the Human Male Kate raised an eyebrow. “You grabbed this from the shelf?”
Clint nodded. “It’s not like I can play Scrabble by myself.”
There was a distinct lack of things to do, especially if you didn’t have multiple meetings or group activities filling your every waking hour like she had for the past week. “True, but you could have done a puzzle or played solitaire.” She handed him back the book and took another sip of coffee.
“Maybe I was waiting for you to get back - in case you needed any more fortifying before we have to do dinner with these people.”
Fortifying? Okay, that was her bad. She’d used that as an excuse for jumping his bones the minute her alarm had gone off that morning. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him. She was still waiting for the overwhelming intensity of her feelings to subside but if anything her feelings for Clint were only getting stronger. When she had time to think about it, she knew it was bad but she had two more weeks to get him out of her system before having to go back to being platonic friends and partners and she was damn sure going to make the most of that time.
Clint moved the book to the coffee table and held out his hand for the mug. She handed it over. He downed the remaining coffee, put the empty mug down on the table beside the book, and pulled her into his lap. She wriggled, her skirt riding up with the movement. She loved this. It wasn't just the sex. It was the closeness, the intimacy, and the sheer joy of being able to touch him whenever she wanted.
“Kate,” Clint groaned. It sounded like both a warning and a promise.
“We still have some time before we have to get ready for dinner.” And she could definitely use some fortifying for that. She found spending all day smiling and being fake friendly with the people of Blue Haven beyond exhausting.
With a few quick movements, Kate found herself lying on her back, couch cushions flung to the floor, skirt discarded, panties slid off, and Clint’s head between her legs. Maybe this mission wasn’t so bad after all.
6. →
Kate trailed fingers along Clint’s skin, as she rested her head on his chest, and let herself be lulled by the soft steady beating of his heart. Their time together - like this - was almost at a close. If her calculations were correct, America should be kicking opening a portal to take them home in four days. If her calculations weren’t correct, they were probably screwed. They might be anyway.
Ever since that first group dinner, there’d been one nearly every night, and they’d all been painfully annoying. She knew Clint hated them even more than she did. The search for Agent Emily Hudson continued to yield a total lack of results. Without access to the inner circle areas, their investigation felt impossible. She felt like she’d gotten closer to full acceptance into the group but was still nowhere near all the way there. She needed more time and that was exactly what she didn’t have.
That night's dinner had been the worst one yet. Gennifer, the redheaded newbie, kept putting her hands all over Clint. She needlessly touched him, leaned in close so he could get a good look at her cleavage numerous times during dinner, and outright propositioned him while sliding a wayward hand along his thigh. It had taken every ounce of her self-control not to stab the woman with her fork. Repeatedly. Clint had spurned Gennifer’s advances with such extreme tact and grace. Kate had been so impressed, that as soon as they’d gotten back to the house she’d gotten him naked and had her way with him. Twice.
She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and looked up. Clint started signing. “What happened after dinner?” The women always gathered in the kitchen together after the meal while the men went off to smoke cigars and drink expensive booze behind closed doors. A lovely little antiquated custom. “You looked upset,” he signed. “Was it about the redhead? You know, I had no intention of taking her up on her offer, right?”
Kate sat up. “I know, but no, it wasn’t about her. I was told that you don’t need to come to the dinners anymore.”
Clint sat up, a huge grin on his face. “That’s the best news I've heard since we've got here.”
“How is that the best? You know what this means, right?”
“It means I get some much-needed alone time.” His eyes turned grave for a moment. He wanted her to know that he was taking the situation seriously. At least that’s what she hoped the look meant. “I can take a nice walk while all of you have dinner.”
He was going to go deeper into the restricted areas to look for Emily while she was busy pretending not to hate everyone in this weirdo cult. It wasn’t a bad plan. She still didn’t like it. She wanted to go with him. She wanted to have his back. Her feelings must have shown on her face. Clint cupped her cheek, leaned close, and whispered softly, “It will be okay.” His breath was warm against her skin. She shivered. He nipped her bottom lip. “I will be okay.” He pulled her on top of him and Kate decided to stay in bed a little while longer.
*
The first night Kate went to dinner without him, his walk had been completely uneventful. He hadn’t seen many people out and those that were around didn’t pay him any mind. He hadn’t wanted to press his luck trying to go into any of the areas that were forbidden to him. Mostly he wanted people to see him out and about so that the next time they’d pay even less attention to him.
The next morning while out for his usual run, Clint stopped to stretch in a park near the gate leading deeper into the compound. He felt someone stomping on the ground behind him and turned around slowly. The kid looked to be around nine or ten years old. He had curly brown hair and brown eyes, and he was apparently fluent in ASL. “Are you really Hawkeye?” The kid asked.
“Yes.” Clint flashed the kid a friendly smile. “What’s your name? Are you Deaf?”
The kid’s name was Gabriel, he was Deaf, ten years old, and he’d been living at the compound with his mom for almost two years.
“Has anyone here bothered to learn to sign for you?” Clint asked. He’d been wondering if the group hated him personally or if they were just a bunch of ableist fucks.
“No.” The kid made an annoyed face. “My mom can sign but that’s it. No one else has even bothered to try. I don’t think Victor likes it.”
“Who’s Victor?” Clint asked. It was the first time he’d come across that name here. The vast majority of the people he’d met at Blue Haven were women.
Gabriel looked at Clint like he was a complete idiot. “The leader. Total bad guy, big-time villain vibes.”
Three and a half weeks and he hadn’t even heard anything about a leader, he figured there had to be one somewhere but no one seemed to be talking about him. Not that he was picking up a lot of conversation these days, but Kate would have told him if she’d heard anything. Talking about any potential leaders of a cult they’d both apparently agreed to join wasn’t likely to break their cover. It must’ve been an inner circle secret or something. “We’re still in the newbie area.”
“We?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m here with my wife, Kate.” He didn’t even hesitate when signing ‘wife’. It felt so natural now. For a moment he felt a deep empty ache in his chest. Fuck, it was gonna hurt when all this was over and they had to go back to being just friends. He pushed that unhappy thought away and focused on the kid.
“Kate Bishop?” The kid’s eyes lit up. Clint nodded. “You’re married to the other Hawkeye?”
Clint laughed, fiddled with his wedding band, and confirmed his marital status. He felt bad about lying to the kid but it was only a small lie. They did have a wedding and a honeymoon. They’d even signed a marriage certificate. It would never get filed or anything but it made the lie feel almost true.
Gabriel’s face lit up. “That is so cool!”
Clint was starting to think so too. Maybe when this was all over --- he pushed the thought aside. He needed to get his head back in the game. “We’re here to find someone.”
“A rescue?”
“Yes.” He probably shouldn’t be telling the kid all this but they were running out of time. In three days their extraction would be here. He needed to find Agent Hudson before that happened or this whole mission would be for nothing.
“Can I help?”
They made a plan. Clint would go out for a walk that night when Kate was at dinner and Gabriel would sneak him past the gate into the main compound. There was a place called ‘The Farm’ where they sent some of their less-than-assimilating members to work the fields. It seemed like a good place to start. He felt a little guilty dragging the kid into this but he promised to get him and his mom out along with Agent Hudson. He really hoped he was going to be able to keep that promise.
*
Kate wasn’t at all surprised when Clint told her about Victor. Cults usually had morally questionable charismatic leaders. Still, nothing had prepared her for seeing the shrine. They’d unveiled it for her at the next dinner. He might have been calling himself Victor now but she’d known him as Pete, the persistently handsy brat son of one of her dad’s business rivals. She hadn’t seen him in years and that had been a good thing. He’d had a bit of an obsession with her, back when she was still a teenager. He hadn’t been that much older than her but it'd still been creepy. Mostly because he was creepy, couldn't keep his hands to himself, and failed to grasp the meaning of the word no.
At tonight’s dinner, she was to be presented to the man. Those were the words that had been used, “presented to”. What she wouldn’t give to have her bow and a handful of arrows right now. She was told to dress up, so she picked a light purple paisley wrap dress that fell just above her ankles. It was a nice dress. The material was soft and there were even pockets but she was looking forward to wearing her own clothes again. Hopefully, this would be the last time she’d have to dress up for these people. On the other hand, maybe it wasn’t them she was dressing up for at all.
Fresh from the shower, wearing a towel around his waist and nothing else, Clint came up behind her, slid his hand under the top of her dress, and brushed kisses along her neck. She watched him in the mirror, trembling in anticipation as she leaned back into him. This was it. This was the last time she would be able to have this. Have him. If they made it home tonight, this happy husband and wife routine would be over. The thought that this was probably their last chance to be together made her feel desperate and wanting.
Feeling his touch along her skin as she watched his hands slide under the fabric of her dress in the mirror’s reflection was incredibly intense. His expert fingers slid under her panties, circled her clit, and had her on the edge all too soon. If this was to be their last time together, she didn’t want it to be over quickly. She needed it to last.
She turned around and Clint lifted her up onto the bureau, pulled off her panties, and moved between her legs. Wrapping her legs around him, she pulled him in closer. He bent down for a kiss and she dipped her tongue into his mouth. Tasting him. Touching him. Feeling him. She wasn’t sure when his towel had fallen but it was long gone now. She let her eyes roam, taking in the sights one last time. Damn, she really loved this man.
When it was over, he helped her off the bureau, picked her panties up from the floor, and held them out to her. Pulling them on, she sent Clint off to get dressed. She still had some weapons to stash on her person. Just a few things she’d found in the kitchen at various dinners over the last few weeks. A couple of sharp pairing knives, a handful of metal skewers, and a very pointy oyster-shucking knife. They would have to do. The shit was about to hit the fan and she had to keep her fingers crossed and hope that America got to them in time. If they rescued Agent Hudson without an exit plan, what would even be the point?
*
Clint looked around at his little ragtag band of misfits and realized that it was entirely possible that he'd promised too many people an easy way out of this hellhole.
Along with Agent Emily Hudson, Gabriel, and Gabriel's mom; he'd invited a dozen other people who'd been working out in the fields with Emily. The cult had been sending people who didn't fit or match their ideals to work in the fields instead of sending them home. Those that didn’t get disappeared. Everyone seemed to have a story about someone who had vanished, never to be seen or heard from again. Clint was pretty sure that was what they had planned for him sooner or later. Probably sooner.
Some brought farm tools like pitchforks and shovels. A few others brought knives from their kitchens. They were all trying to be stealthy - well, as close to stealthy as more than a dozen people traveling together could be. It wasn’t going all that well but while they’d started to attract some onlookers, no one had tried to stop them yet.
*
How long was this ridiculous dinner going to last? She’d been there for an hour already, and they hadn’t even finished with the appetizers. She’d been seated right beside Vincent and he hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself since.
The spread was fancier and more elaborate than usual. That and the fact that the table had been set with what was very obviously the good china, more than hinted at how very special a guest the man was. So far, she’d managed to resist calling him Pete. He’d introduced himself to her as Victor with a firm handshake and a wink. In return, she’d given him her best smile and did her best not to wipe her hand on her dress.
He didn’t look all that different from what she remembered. He must've known that she’d recognize him, eventually. Maybe he was even counting on it. She wished Clint was with her. She always felt better knowing he had her back and she had his.
At least the food was good, and the wine flowed freely. The appetizer course consisted of stuffed mushrooms, vegetable tempura, and spring rolls with a lovely sweet and sour sauce. If this had been a pleasant social event and not a mission about to go horribly wrong, she might've even enjoyed herself. But things being what they were, she was primed, alert, and on edge. It didn’t help that Victor wouldn’t stop flirting with her. That and the constant touching thing he was doing made the temptation to stab him with her fork nearly irresistible. Yet, so far, she had resisted. While everyone fawned all over Victor, she could barely stand being cordial to the creep. There was no way she was going to be able to manage flirty, let alone fawning. Instead, she ate her food, made small talk, and forced herself to smile.
A young woman she hadn’t seen before cleared their plates before the next course was brought out. Plates of salad greens with sesame ginger dressing and bowls of curried red lentil soup were placed in front of them. Victor leaned closer. “Wait until you see the main course,” he said in a voice that was probably supposed to be titillating but only succeeded in making her skin crawl. “Can’t wait,” Kate said through gritted teeth.
Sometime in the middle of the soup and salad course, Victor flinched. It was subtle but she’d been watching for subtle signs all evening and the moment the flinch happened Kate instinctively got ready for the shit to hit the fan. Less than a minute later there was a commotion outside.
Through the picture window, Kate saw dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents pour out of a familiarly shaped portal. Kate couldn’t see America but knew she had to be out there somewhere. That was one of her portals for sure.
Victor went to grab Kate but she’d already stepped out of the way, pulling out the oyster-shucking knife she’d pocketed nearly a week ago. It had a short thick blade and was dangerously sharp. Vincent scowled at her and pulled out a gun.
“I thought guns were against the rules, Pete.” Kate had read the handbook and guns were totally on the list of things that were not allowed.
Victor sneered. “Oh, my dear Katherine, this is my world and I can make and break all the rules my heart desires.” He moved toward the patio door and she followed.
Outside, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents helped various cult members through the portal. It was starting to look as if the only people who wanted to be there were the members of the inner circle. Apparently, everyone else had been trapped. Kate spotted Clint helping some kids go through the portal. Nearby, Agent Emily Hudson brandished a pitchfork at one of the guards. Kate recognized her from the photos in her file. Clint did it, he found her, mission accomplished. Now she just needed to get to him, head to the portal, and go the hell home.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one to spot Clint. Victor walked out the door. “You! This is all your fault,” he said while pointing the gun at Clint. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you into my beloved haven but no, you useless piece of—“
Kate needed to get Victor-Pete’s attention on her and off Clint. “He can’t hear you, remember?”
He turned the gun on her. “You just had to have him with you, didn’t you? Why him? What makes him so special? What can he offer you, that I can’t?”
“Dude, I haven’t even seen you in years. What makes you think that I’d want to be with you? I hated you when I was a teenager and I hate you now. You never had a chance.” Kate threw her knife at him and pulled out a pair of kitchen scissors.
The knife lodged itself in his torso and he pulled it out, trailing blood everywhere. “You’ll pay for this.” He turned the gun in Clint’s direction and fired. Victor pulled the trigger again but this time, no longer surprised, Clint dodged out of the way. Kate finally noticed some of the inner circle cultists making their way onto the field. One of them snuck up behind Clint and hit him on the head with a heavy ceramic bowl. He went down hard and Kate heard herself scream as she lunged at Victor and plunged the scissors into his right eye.
After that things began to blur together. Eventually, a group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents rushed Victor, put him in cuffs, and began to round up the rest of his flunkies. Kate found her way to where Clint had fallen but by the time she got there, all that was left was a trail of blood. America held out her hand and helped Kate up. “They already brought him through the portal,” she told Kate. “He was unconscious but alive. Okay? Let’s get you home.”
7. →
Kate left one chaotic scene behind only to step into another. The portal brought her to what she was almost positive was a S.H.I.E.L.D. base of some kind. Everything was busy and bustling. She tried to flag someone down to find out where they’d taken Clint but everyone was focused on their own orders and ignored her increasingly frantic questions. She turned to her best friend. “Do you know where they would have taken him?”
America shook her head but kept walking. “Let’s try Hill’s office.” She led her down the corridor to what turned out to be an empty office. Kate wanted to scream in frustration but somehow managed to keep her cool. She needed to see Clint. Needed to know that he was all right. She turned and almost walked straight into Maria Hill. “Where did you take him?” Kate asked, unable to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice.
Hill’s stare was a granite slab. “The mission is over Ms. Bishop. Barton is no longer your concern. Rest assured, he’s being taken care of.”
Kate clenched her fists. “Seriously? He’s not my concern?” The urge to punch someone was growing stronger by the minute. “Are you fucking kidding me? We went undercover for you, we brought your agent back, and now my friend and partner are no longer my concern? Who the fuck do you think you are lady?” America grabbed Kate’s arm and started pulling her away from the ill-advised confrontation. Kate tried to stand her ground but she was no match for America’s strength.
“We would like to debrief you at your earliest convenience.” Hill looked like she meant now but Kate was in no mood to comply. “We’d very much like your version of how the group’s leader ended up with a knife in his eye.”
America opened a new portal. “I should stick a knife in your eye,” Kate muttered, losing steam as America dragged her through the opening.
*
She was home. The portal closed and the fight went out of her. Kate went limp, her best friend pulling her into an embrace a moment before the tears began to fall.
“What happened, Princess?”
Kate sniffled. Where would she even begin? “What didn’t happen?” America handed her a tissue and Kate blew her nose. “I need to see Clint, I need to know if he’s okay.”
“I’m sure he’s fine. The man’s like a cockroach.” America tucked a lock of hair behind Kate’s ear. “How many buildings has he fallen from and been perfectly fine?”
“He’s not always fine.” He’d broken so many bones, so many times.
“My point is, Barton's a survivor. He'll be all right.”
“How can you be sure?” There’d been so much blood.
America sighed. “Do you want me to find out?”
“Please?” She was pathetically begging, and she didn’t even care. Her best friend nodded and Kate threw herself into her arms again and the heaviness in her chest eased a little.
America gave her a tight squeeze before letting her go and taking a step back. “I shouldn’t be long, but maybe eat something, or shower in the meantime.”
Kate nodded, even though the mere thought of food right now, made her feel queasy. She’d have agreed to anything, as long as it got her one step closer to Clint.
*
There was someone in the room. Clint opened his eyes and blinked at the blurry figure in the chair beside him. “Kate?” His voice felt muffled and rough.
The figure leaned forward, and his vision cleared. Not Kate. Natasha held out a small black plastic box. His hearing aid case. His arms felt heavy and there were wires tangled around him. Realizing he was in a hospital, he groaned. Clint hated hospitals.
All at once it came back to him. The fight with the cult leader, getting shot, hitting his head, and then everything going black. He’d found Agent Hudson but then it had all gone to hell. The last thing he remembered was Kate screaming loud enough that he could actually hear her as he fell to the ground. He took the box and put his hearing aids in for the first time in three weeks. “Nat-“
Natasha took his hand in hers. “She’s fine.”
He let out a long slow breath. Kate was all right. Everything was gonna be okay. “Where am I?”
“S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital ward.”
He made a face. Hospitals were terrible enough, S.H.I.E.L.D. hospitals were even worse. Why wasn’t Kate with him? After three weeks of rarely using his voice, his hands itched to sign but he had an IV stuck in the back of one hand and a bandage on the other arm from wrist to elbow. “Where’s is she?”
Natasha paused and he knew whatever she was about to tell him wasn’t going to make him happy. “Chavez brought her home.”
“Home?”
“New York,” Nat clarified for him.
Kate had gone home. Without him. Something had to be wrong. She would be here with him if she could. Wouldn't she? “And I’m?”
“Still on the West Coast.” Natasha’s words were gentle but they still left him feeling lost and empty.
Clint ran the hand not attached to an IV through his hair. There was a bandage on his head too. “What the hell happened, Nat?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that question.” Natasha adjusted his bed into a less reclined position. “You were hurt and they wouldn’t let her see you.” She sighed before continuing. “She reacted poorly.”
“How poorly?”
“Chavez managed to get her out of there before she did or said anything irrevocably stupid but there'd been a lot of yelling and threats were made.” Natasha fiddled with the machines and wires before carefully removing his IV. “What happened between the two of you on the mission, Clint?”
Fuck. What hadn’t happened? He pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He winced. Okay, that leg hurt. “What happened to my leg?”
Natasha raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on his change of subject. “Bullet graze. Nothing vital but it’s gonna hurt for a while.” She gestured for him to continue.
“I love her. I think I’ve always loved her, but she is or was my protege or whatever and I’m older and-“ Clint shook his head. He knew all the reasons he wasn’t supposed to love Kate that way.
Natasha looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. “You do remember that there are a lot more years between the two of us, than the two of you, yes?”
Actually, he tended to forget that little fact. He looked down and moved on. “Anyway, remember that whole thing you said about how we had to seem married in every possible way?”
“I do.”
“Well, right before the cult’s people kidnapped us, we um- made things look very real.”
“You had sex.” Natasha’s voice was very matter-of-fact.
Clint rubbed the back of his neck. They had had so much sex. “Yeah.” Why was this so hard to talk about? “And then once in the cult, we kept it up. A lot.” He hefted himself out of bed and tested his legs. They were a little unsteady but held. “It felt right.” He shrugged. “I knew we didn’t need to. None of the cultists cared what we were doing behind closed doors. It just felt natural, you know?” He shook his head. He wasn’t doing a great job of explaining it. “It’s like once I crossed that invisible line I’d drawn between us - that was it. It was like the floodgates opened or something.”
Clint took a step, didn’t fall, and took another one. His leg hurt like hell but it held him and that’s what counted. “I couldn’t stop. Hell, I didn’t want to stop. I don’t know Kate’s perspective on the whole thing, we couldn’t talk about it without risking our cover but she did a lot of the instigating herself.”
Natasha smiled as if she knew all along about his feelings for Kate and was only waiting for him to admit it.
Clint noticed the scrubs sitting neatly folded at the end of his bed. Natasha dropped a duffle bag down next to them. “I also picked up your prescriptions and some clean underwear. You should get dressed.” She placed a kiss on his cheek. “There are crutches by the door. Good luck.”
She didn’t warn him that Kate might not even want to see him and didn’t remind him that it’d been a mission and that Kate wasn’t his girlfriend, let alone his wife. He knew all that already. He needed to see her. He needed to see that she was okay with his own eyes. After that, the two of them could sit down and figure out where they stood with each other.
*
Clint was still pulling on his new boxer briefs when he felt a weird static sensation in the air. A familiar groan sounded from behind him. Clint turned around and saw America Chavez stepping out of a star-shaped portal while trying to cover her eyes with her hand.
“I guess that’s what I get for not knocking before opening a portal into someone’s hospital room,” she said.
“Can you actually knock before opening a portal?”
“Not really. It’d be cool if I could though, right?”
Clint nodded. Why was she here? He peered into the open portal and saw a familiar hallway. “Is Kate-“
America rolled her eyes. “She’s fine. Seriously, you two make quite the pair.” She sounded annoyed and tired. “Do you want me to take you to her?”
“Yes, please.” He sounded so pathetically desperate and he didn’t even care.
“You’re not going to hurt her, are you?” It sounded more like a threat than a question but he decided to answer anyway.
“No, I just want to talk to her.” He wanted to do so much more than just talk but they needed to start with talking. He had things he needed to say.
America crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What's your plan?”
He probably should have a plan huh? He ran his hand through his hair and almost toppled over. America frowned at him and tossed him the crutches.
“Is it enough that I have a plan, or do I have to tell you the plan?” He figured he'd start by telling her that it'd been real for him, that it hadn't been just the mission. His feelings were genuine, he’d loved her for a very long time, and he was an idiot for not doing anything about it sooner.
“I don’t need to know your personal business, I just want to make sure you aren’t gonna be an asshole. Are you gonna be an asshole, Barton?”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” Not that he ever actually planned on being an asshole. It just happened sometimes.
She shrugged. “Good enough. Get your stuff, I don’t want S.H.I.E.L.D. to catch me breaking you out of this place.”
Clint picked up the scrubs Nat had left for him. “Can I finish getting dressed?”
“Nope.”
*
Kate's nails bit into the palms of her clenched fists as she paced the short length of her apartment. After America left, she’d downed a glass of water, ate a couple of crackers, and managed to change out of the dress she’d worn to the dinner of doom. Covered in blood, dirt, and who knew what else, tossing it in the trash seemed the best solution. It'd been a borrowed dress anyway.
The waiting was torture. She didn’t even know how long it'd been since America took off. Kate probably should’ve looked at the clock. Looking at it now told her it was almost eleven and the view out the window let her know it was night.
When the knock on the door finally came, Kate flinched. What if it was bad news? What if it was S.H.I.E.L.D. here to take her in for the whole making threats thing? The second knock came heavy and hard, the sound reverberating throughout her tiny apartment.
*
Clint stood on the threshold dressed in the hospital gown Chavez hadn't given him a chance to change out of. He was leaning on his crutches, preparing to knock once again, when the door finally swung open.
Relief flooded him when he saw Kate in the doorway, dressed in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Her mouth gaped open. “Clint?” Before he could say anything she threw her arms around him and kissed him. He dropped his crutches and wrapped his arms around her. She was okay.
Kate was the first to pull away. “I’m so sorry, I forgot that I don’t have kissing privileges anymore.” She put her hand over her mouth.
Kissing privileges? “What are you talking about?” Oh shit. The mission was over. They didn’t have to pretend to be married anymore. They were done. Fuck. His leg started to throb. “Do you think we can sit down for the rest of this discussion?”
She led him to the sofa, grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, and handed him one. “Thanks,” he said after taking a long swig. “I’m not sorry for the kissing, I know we don’t need to pretend to be together anymore but I don’t care.” He shook his head and winced. “I like kissing you.”
“I like kissing you too" Kate fussed with his bandages for a moment. "And I haven’t been pretending.”
He put his feet up on her coffee table. “No?”
“Not at all.” Kate shook her head and gave him a small smile. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long and this whole thing gave me the perfect excuse to just let go and do it.” Not that they’d stopped at kissing.
“And you thought sex wouldn’t be a big deal between us.” Clint leaned back and closed his eyes.
Kate leaned her head on his shoulder. “Oh no, that was a total lie. I knew it would be a big deal and I didn’t care. Not enough to stop.” He put his arm around her and she snuggled in closer.
“What now?” He asked.
She paused and for a moment doubt shot through him. What if she didn’t want him anymore?
“We could try dating?” Kate asked, vulnerability seeping through her words. She was worried about his feelings.
Dating? He didn’t hate the sound of it but it didn’t feel like enough and while he would take whatever he could get, he wanted more. “Kinda feels like a step back there, Hawkeye.”
“What, did you want to get married for real or something?”
That sounded exactly like what he wanted. “Why not?” He shrugged.
She bit her lip, sat up, and searched his face for something, he wasn’t sure what. Maybe she was trying to tell if he was joking or not. He wasn’t. He was dead serious.
“How about we try living together first?” Kate suggested.
That didn’t sound so bad. “Do you want me to move in here or?” He looked around at her too-small apartment. They could probably make it work if they had to, but his place was bigger.
Kate shook her head. “I was thinking maybe I could move into your place - with you.”
“I love that idea. Now, about those kissing privileges.” He knew they’d have a lot of little details to work out later, but that could wait a while longer.
*
Sitting out on the fire escape, sharing pizza with the love of her life under the light of the full moon, Kate felt at peace. She’d moved in with Clint. For real, not a crashing on his couch for an indefinite amount of time thing, yet again. She pinched herself. This was all real. She wasn't dreaming. Taking a bite of pizza, she gently bumped her shoulder against Clint's. He smiled at her and for a moment, everything was perfect.
The doorbell rang, shaking her out of her reverie. She looked at Clint. "Are we expecting someone?" Kate asked. Clint shrugged.
Someone banged on the door. Kate started to get up and Clint put his arm out to stop her. "Remember the last time you went to answer the door alone?"
She smiled. He was worried about her. "Different door," she pointed out.
"Humor me, let's go check it out together."
Kate rolled her eyes, yet acquiesced. She understood his worry and if she were being honest with herself, she'd have to admit she was feeling it too. As she stepped back into the apartment, she heard the door open. Clint held up a finger to his lips. She kept quiet and listened. There was a strange clicking noise. It took her a moment to identify the sound as claws on the linoleum. "Lucky?" She whispered. Lucky barked. Kate stepped out into the open and was tackled by her dog. After spending a minute to welcome Lucky home, she noticed Barney standing in the doorway. "Did you give your brother a key?" She asked Clint.
"I did not," Clint answered.
"Oh, please. The day I need a key to get through a locked door is the day I stop calling myself a Barton," Barney said, a smug grin on his face.
*
Barney had tried tracking down Kate first but he didn't have her current number and she'd moved out of her apartment. He'd called his brother but he was either ducking his calls or he'd lost his phone. Again. He thought about trying the landline, couldn't find the number, and decided it'd just be easier to swing by and drop off the dog, along with the paperwork. Barney didn't mind watching Lucky, he'd been great company all summer. What he didn't appreciate was having to be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s errand boy. They said they thought the news would be easier coming from him. Which was complete bullshit, of course. They'd just rather he be the one taking the punch in the face when Clint found out about their fuckup. Whatever. He was good at taking a punch. Excelled at it, even.
"Hey Kate, good to see you looking well. I guess this is why you weren't at your apartment. Did you get kicked out or somethin'?" It looked like she’d recently moved in. Huh.
Taking Clint's hand in hers, Kate flashed him an enthusiastic smile. "We're living together."
Barney looked at the blissed-out look on his brother's face and shook his head. He had it bad. To look at them, they both did. Damn, maybe it would make the next bit a little easier. Might as well rip the bandaid off quickly. "So, S.H.I.E.L.D. sent along some paperwork for me to give to you guys." He tried to hand them the two thick envelopes but they both took a step back. Barney put the envelopes down on the counter. “So, apparently there was an error-"
"Just tell us what it is, Barney," his ever-impatient brother interrupted. Barney shook his head. "Fine. Due to S.H.I.E.L.D. being a bunch of dickheaded idiots, your marriage is completely valid and lawful, if you two lovebirds want to no longer be married to each other, you're gonna hafta sign these divorce papers."
Kate looked at him as if he'd suddenly grown three heads. "What?"
"Say that again," Clint said.
"You two are married for real,” Barney said slowly. Something caught his eye. They were both still wearing their rings. The mission had been over for two weeks, they'd moved in together, and hadn't removed their wedding bands. Barney chuckled. He opened one of the envelopes and pulled out a marriage certificate. "Someone on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s payroll mistakenly filed the thing." Barney pointed to the official seal. "Here, see?"
The two of them stared at the piece of paper, stunned smiles on both their faces.
"Did you want the divorce papers?" He asked, gingerly.
Clint shook his head and mouthed "No."
"Burn them," Kate said.
Barney gathered the envelope with the divorce papers. "Okay, then I guess I'll just take these and set them on fire?" Kate nodded enthusiastically.
Clint gave him a thumbs up. "Works for me."
Apparently, his job there was done. "Hey Kate, welcome to the family."
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