Arrow Stricken

Clint Barton was polishing arrows when Martha suddenly came in.

"Oh, sorry Clint!" she said. "But have you seen the Doctor around here?"

Clint shook his head. "No, I haven't. I thought I saw him with Nat and Tony leaving for a bar or something."

"The 'or something' sounds a lot more accurate," Martha laughed. "I've never seen the Doctor drink, and I don't think he'll start anytime soon. Besides, he's my ride. Don't want him drinking and driving while he's driving the TARDIS. The ride's bumpy enough."

Clint chuckled. Yes, he'd been in the TARDIS before, and he did know what Martha was talking about. He had hardly kept his balance as the inside weaved and jumped.

"Yeah," he finally said. "To tell you the truth, I thought he was drunk when I'd first met him."

"No, that was the antiseptic."

Clint raised an eyebrow, and Martha shook her head.

"Don't ask. Too much to explain in one afternoon."

There was a small silence.

"…was I disturbing you?" Martha finally asked.

"No! No."

"Because I could leave if you want me to…"

"No! You're okay." Clint looked down at the arrow in his hand and set it aside. It could wait.

"What exactly are you doing, anyway?"

"Oh, uh," Clint said, suddenly embarrassed. "I'm working on my…arrows."

Martha laughed jokingly. "Is that all you do in your spare time?"

"No!" Clint said, but the answer wasn't effective.

Martha started to exit. "You need a girlfriend."

"I'm working on it!" Clint yelled after her. He had meant to think this, but somehow said it out loud instead.

"All you had to do was ask!" Martha said as she walked out of the room.

"I wasn't talking about you! Don't flatter yourself!"

Martha's head popped back around the corner. "Too late!" Then she was gone.

Clint turned around and felt his face warm. He smiled, then continued working on his arrows.