AN: Clinton is newly recruited in S.H.I.E.L.D. and 17 years old, Natasha is 15.




"Agent Hawkeye," Director Fury called.

"Ya," the teenager asked turning from his video games to the director.

"We have a real mission for you," Fury said.

"About time," the recently recruited teenage agent stood. "What is it?"

"There's a daughter of an old agent who's come up on the radar after several years of being missing. We want you to go and get her," Fury gave him his brief case that contained his bow and arrows.

"Wow her dad must have been a pretty important for her to get such notice." Hawkeye pulled the quiver of arrows from his briefcase.

"It was her mother who was the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and she was important yes until she went crazy because she told her daughter an invaluable piece of information. A day later Brutus, the leader of a powerful Russian mob, took her daughter. Her mother went crazy looking for her and imagined she was tortured and killed, but no information was ever given that she was dead. Since that little girl is still alive, she has been tortured, that much we can be sure of, but even under torture she didn't give up our secrets. We can at least give her the relief of being rescued after ten years."

"Ten years," Clint said arching an eyebrow. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is really that unequipped to deal with a hostage?"

"Get ready," Fury growled.

"So where am I going?"

"She's being held in a warehouse in Russia. You'll take a plane out and once you have her go a head and radio and it will be at your coordinates again within five minutes."

"Understood," he nodded and boarded a helicopter. The helicopter dropped him off on the roof of a warehouse.

He operated quickly; he slid into the top floor window and crept silently towards the basement. He found a girl sitting on a mattress staring up at a corner. He surveyed the area around her first before seeing chains around her wrists. "Hi," he whispered trying not to startle her.

Her head whipped around and she stared at him with wide doe eyes. "Hi there," he whispered walking over to her. "Stay calm I'm here to help you," he said soothingly. "Can you hold your arms out," he demonstrated for her. She put her arms out straight and next to each other just as he had. He took an ice arrow from his quiver and slammed it between the chains. It froze both of them and she whimpered a bit. "I'll fix it soon, don't move ok?" he said and she nodded. He backed up a little and kicked the chains causing the ice and the metal to crack and fall off of her wrists. He looked at them with pity as they had deep red gashes in them.

"Come here," he said holding his hand out to her. She looked up at him with alarm and stood but dashed around him. "Shit," he cursed quietly. He took a bow from his quiver and shot it at her, it exploded into a new and collected her within itself. "Sorry," he apologized grabbing her and rushing up the stairs. She didn't make a noise and Clint radioed the chopper as he reached the top floor. He looked around suspicious that he hadn't seen anyone but climbed up top anyways.

"Damn," he snarled seeing several men on the roof. He darted behind the small building that was the stairway entrance. He held his breath and waited for the chopper hoping that the girl wouldn't decide to make any noise. "I'll save you," he heard himself whisper to her. The chopper came in sight and the men started to panic. "Stay here," he said setting her down gently against the building. He peaked from behind the building for a moment and shot two easily before disappearing behind it again sweating a little hoping that the other three wouldn't notice the arrows came from him.

He heard them moving around and felt one close, he readied his bow and aimed at the corner near the girl. The man appeared saw her and then never saw anything again. The other men were rushing towards him but the helicopter had thrown a rope down and he grabbed the girl, his first priority, and grabbed it. They pulled him up and he helped release the girl.

"Hi again," he said smiling at the nervous girl who was strapped in beside him. She looked at him and looked away again. "We're taking you somewhere safe, I promise," he said trying to catch her eye. She didn't look up still, "what's your name?" he asked her.

"Natasha," she whispered.

"That's a really pretty name," he said determined to keep her talking. "Do you remember anything from before you were there Natasha?"

"Agent Barton," the captain of the helicopter said. "That's an inappropriate question your higher ups will deal with that when she's debriefed."

"Debriefed?" Clint asked in disgust. "She was a hostage she wasn't on a mission, it's not like she was committing details to memory while she was there she was trying to just survive while she was there," he was angry at the pilot.

"You don't know what she did, that's why she'll be debriefed."

"Over my dead body," Clint muttered looking from the pilot to Natasha. "We're almost back to S.H.I.E.L.D.," he said. "Once we get there we'll have a doctor look to make sure you're ok alright?"

She nodded seeming nervous around him.

The chopper landed about three minutes later and Clint helped Natasha remove her safety belt. "Come on," he said helping her onto the flight deck and started walking towards the medical bay.

"Agent Barton!" the captain called still in the plane. "It's protocol for her to be processed first."

Clint kept walking pretending he didn't hear the captain. Instead he took Natasha's hand and led her towards medical care.

"Hey I need a doctor in here," Clint said walking into the medical bay.

A man came in and looked at the two. "How can I help?"

"I retrieved her from a very long hostage situation. She needs to be checked out please." Clint gently pushed her towards the doctor.

"Sure I can check her out, come this way," the doctor opened a door to a patient room and waited for her. Instead of going inside though Natasha took a few steps back and hid behind Clint.

"You can both come in," the doctor said staring between the two, "I'll call for a psychologist."

The two teenagers walked inside and waited for the doctor to return after he made a phone call. "Alright can the girl hope up on the table there and I'll check for any physical injuries."

Natasha looked at Clint and waited for his reassuring nod before jumping up. "Don't worry," the doctor said calmly as he took her wrists in his hands. "These look pretty damaged," he said concerned. "I'm going to go ahead and put some cream on these injuries and then wrap them up."

She looked at Clint once again and he nodded. She held her wrists out and let the doctor apply the cream.

"Hello Natasha," a kind looking woman walked into the room. Natasha immediately wrenched her wrists from the man and ran into the corner.

"No it's ok," the woman said holding her hands out soothingly towards Natasha. "I'm a psychologist I'm here to help you deal with your stress and torment that you went though."

Natasha quickly turned her eyes to Clint as Director Fury also entered the room.

"Agent Barton," he growled staring at the boy. "Why did you ignore protocol?"

"We have a worse issue Fury, can I speak to you outside," the psychologist asked.

"What is it Mimi?" he asked once outside the door.

"You should have had me on that helicopter! You know as well as I do that hostages form a connection when they are rescued. That connection is supposed to be made with a psychologist, someone who is able to understand her thoughts and teach her techniques to dealing with them successfully. Instead she has bonded with a bumbling teenage agent who knows nothing about what she's been through!"

"Mimi it is not standard protocol to send unarmed civilian crew into a mission situation unless they are absolutely necessary like medics in some cases."

"Well now she's made that boy her dependent so he'll have to work with me to make sure she recovers fully." Mimi stormed back into the room taking only a moment to recover her composure so as not to alarm Natasha.

Natasha was now covered in bandages and Mimi seemed slightly alarmed by the number. "The feeling makes her feel safe so I figured it'd be worth it," Clint said looking behind him from where he was wrapping some around her upper arm and she was smiling up at him.


"Clint," a timid voice called as Natasha ran towards him ignoring the rest of the people in the meeting room.

"Hey there," he smiled widely and opened his arms to her. She jumped in like usual and quickly concealed herself within his embrace. "Go ahead she's nested she isn't leaving for awhile," the teen redirected his attention to the men who had been briefing him.

"She isn't exactly authorized personal Barton," Fury growled.

"Since being rescued from her hostage situation our job hence forth is to ensure she feels like she's gone from a position of having no control to absolute control, she's authorized or Mimi will have your ass," he grinned.

"Maybe you'd like to be transferred to psychiatry," Fury grumbled before continuing. "You need to go in and observe the men at work, make sure that nothing illegal is going on inside. Intel suggests that a few runaways from Charles Xavier's school may also be located inside, we are unsure if they are detained or their freely. Make sure you gather the necessary intel."

Clint nodded, "When do I leave?"

"Tomorrow," Fury said.

"Don't go," Natasha finally looked up from his chest. Her voice was getting more strength since being freed but she was still far away from assertive, this last request however was rather demanding.

"I have to it's my job," he said stroking her hair.

"No," she whined furrowing her eyebrows in distaste.

"I'm sorry but I have to I should only be about a week," he said hoping to comfort her.

"What about Friday?" she asked. Clint visibly grimaced seeming to have forgotten.

"What's Friday?" Fury asked.

"She didn't know when her birthday was so we decided it would be Friday, I promised her I'd spend the whole day with her."

"Her birthday is January 3rd, no where near Friday. She's the daughter of an old S.H.I.E..L.D. agent, we have that information."

"Ya about that I was wondering why hasn't her mom come to see her?"

"Her mother has been out of touch with S.H.I.E.L.D. for awhile, we haven't been able to locate her. Your mission will continue tomorrow as planned." Fury then stood from the room and left a very troubled Hawkeye.


"Hello sir," a boy about the age of 14 greeted Clint as he walked towards the facility.

"Hey," Clint smiled calmly. "I was hoping I could get a job here," he nodded towards the factory.

"Sure a tour's just about to start with our other new employee I'll get them to take you too," the boy said taking Hawkeye inside. "Apparently she doesn't speak English well just Russian, but she's got little fingers so she'll come in handy non the less." He opened a door for Clint and it took everything Clint had in him not to let his mouth hit the floor. Natasha stood in front of him speaking with a man in Russian. She turned back and smiled at him then told the man something giggling. The man laughed and looked towards Clint.

"Come in son, have a seat," he said motioning to the chairs. "Sit next to the girl apparently she thinks your cute," she smiled.

Clint moved on automatic as his head spun trying to figure out why on earth Natasha was seated next to him. The second they were taken to their rooms and the door clicked closed he was gripping her arm.

"What are you doing here!" he asked in a hushed yet stern whisper.

"I came to protect you, besides you promised you'd stay with me on my birthday so I came to be with you."

"Natasha this isn't some kids game, you're in serious danger. You can't just follow me into a mission!"

"I didn't follow you," she said annoyed. "I was here first," she pulled away from him.

"What did you mean protect me?" he asked hoping she'd stay.

She paused, "I liked you worrying about me, so I didn't say anything, but I'm not so easy to break," she walked back to her room.

Clint went to his as well and plopped on his bed. A few minutes later he heard a light knock on his door. He stood an opened it, "Natasha," he said. She walked in.

"I don't like sleeping in a room you aren't in," she confessed. "You make me feel safe and, funny," she said holding her hand over her heart.

He smiled, "you make me feel funny too," he kissed her cheek.

She made a noise of distaste and leant up on her tiptoes kissing his lips. "I'll blow our cover if I stay in your room," she whispered after.

"See you tomorrow, be safe."