This is a one-shot completely dedicated to BethanyLeeRenner about an OC who captured the attention of a certain assassin.

I hope you all enjoy it!


It was supposed to be just like any other mission - any other day. Just another person who needed to be wiped off the face of the earth. Someone who was a dangerous, potential threat. A life that needed to be lost. And she was just another person standing in the way of his target, it shouldn't have been that difficult. He was used to watching the civilians laugh, smile, joke, and even flirt with the person who he needed dead. And sometimes that one civilian that laughs and smiles and jokes with the target is a beautiful girl, or a young child. But, it's never difficult to work around them and get the job done.

It was easy, really. Just pull back the bow and let the arrow soar through the air and hit the target dead-on, never touching the innocents, and - if he could avoid it - the murder never being seen by them either.

That's what Clint Barton thought for the longest time until he saw her.

She was a quite kind of girl, though, always smiling. She was rather young, probably early twenties. Her dark-brown hair always pulled up in a messy bun, but to Clint, it was down-right sexy. At first glance, the assassin never really though much of her. Like mentioned before, she was just another person standing in the way. But, there was something different about her that caught the archer's eye.

Was it her curled and unruly hair? The way she smiled, or the way she cried? There was one night where she was sitting with several photos spread across her bed, most likely going through memories. She began to cry at one point, sweet, sweet tears that highlighted her fair features. Her eyes were swollen and red, making a stark contrast between her dark hair and light skin. She was the most beautiful thing when she cries.

He'd been watching her for some time now, most likely a few months. It was to the point where it was almost sad. The target was supposed to be dead and gone weeks ago, but, after seeing that certain girl, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. At first it was because he wanted to keep on watching the woman, he wasn't mesmerized, but she sure caught his attention. It was innocent, really. Well, as innocent as it could get when it comes to the assassin.

But, the damn target was still on the loose even though he was right underneath of his nose.

The target that he needed dead just happened to be her father, or that's what the files said. The target's name was Fredric Dolmen. He was an older gentleman who had a late wife who passed years back, and a daughter by the name of Isolde - the same girl he watched. Dolman used to be an info broker for S.H.I.E.L.D. and retired years back, but with recent news, he's been leaking crucial information about the organization that's supposed to be kept secrete. That just won't work, now will it?

For awhile now, Clint's been telling Fury that he has yet to get a clear site of the target. But that's all a lie. Though, he claims it's a little white one, but a lie nonetheless. It's something that needs to stop. But is he willing to stop it?

He's always watching her. He watches her while she eats, sleeps, smiles, reads, and even when she plays with her silly, little video games - something Clint would snort at. It was rather creepy in a sense. But how else would he be able to see her? Every single day, every waking minute, he makes up these little scenarios in his head where he goes down there and introduces himself to her. But, he can't do that. Not in reality, at least. He cannot show himself while the target is alive, and showing himself after he killed him was out of the question.

She seemed quiet close with Dolman. As close as a father-daughter relationship could go. It was a precious friendship, a parental bond that would last out several lifetimes. And Clint couldn't go to her after he destroyed that bond. He's not the type of guy to weigh on the guilt, but he does have his boundaries.

So, he just sits on his perch and watches from afar. Telling himself day after day, that the next time he sees Dolman that is was his last day to live. Fury's been on his ass lately, telling him it's been over three months and the target needed to be dead.

Clint agrees. He's put this off for too long, all because of a pointless dream, with a girl who probably wouldn't want anything to do with her father's murderer. He's not a teenage boy anymore, this has gone too far. He's an assassin that works for an undercover agency and things like this just don't fit in with the job. He needs to shape up and get his shit in gear. Otherwise he'll compromise himself and the mission.

So, that leads us to here. The day he plans on taking Dolman's life once and for all.

Today just happened to be the day that Isolde was sitting outside on the patio with Dolman and another woman who was a family friend. Clint cursed himself in his mind, but he couldn't have a more clearer shot. He didn't want to kill someone, especially her father, in front of the girl. But, he had to. This was the day.

Reaching behind him, Clint grabbed an arrow, placing it in his bow and pulled the string back. He took a breath and locked on to his target. With narrowed eyes he tightened his hold on the bow string. In that split second he thought one last scenario: what if he just put down the bow and walked away?

What if he just gave up everything?

Could he do it?

Could he possible just throw away everything he's worked so hard for?

To betray S.H.I.E.L.D?

To betray the Avengers?

Just for one girl on a whim?

Is it too late for him to start over? To begin a new life? To be able to breathe without worry of giving himself away? In that quiet moment, when everything stood still, Clint could hear her laugh. Oh, what a sweet, melodious laugh it was. It was calling to him. A new life was beckoning him. But, the question still stands: Could he do it?

Still holding his breath, Clint closed his eyes. No. He couldn't. He had too much blood on his hands to even think about living a normal life. He not compatible to fall in love, start a family, to start over. No, he signed his life over when the day, the moment, the second he decided to become an assassin.

But, in that silent moment, he could picture himself falling in love with some girl like Isolde. He could see himself starting a family, a little boy and a little girl who he could call his own. A little miniature version of himself and his beautiful wife. He could almost hear their laughter while they played. While they created memories that someday would bring back tears. Though tears they may bring, they are beautiful, wonderful memories that they made together. . .

Upon opening his eyes, Clint let out his breath softly. He wasn't going to let his mind be plagued with thoughts of what could have been. There's no turning back from where he stands now, and thinking about silly dreams would only compromise him even further than he already is with this woman.

Steadying his grip on the bow, Clint finally aimed directly at Dolman's head. Off to the right, Clint could clearly see Isolde, a small game device in her tiny hands. She was smiling at something her father was saying.

He let go.

The arrow went flying through the air and descending up its target. And just like that Dolman was dead. Clint closed his eyes again but he could still hear the scream that Isolde let off, then her cries. His chest tightened for a split second and he opened his eyes to see those beautiful tears fall down her face as she stood over the lifeless body of her father.

The family friend was too shocked to do much of anything, so she just kneeled next to the crying woman as she shook with such morn of the loss of her only parent. Her chest kept on constricting and contracting as her body completely fell apart while her mind tried to wrap her tiny fingers around what just happened.

She was so beautiful when she cried.

So beautiful.

Tearing his eyes away from the scene, with the most toneless, emotionless voice possible, Clint brought his hand up to his earpiece and said, "Target acquired and taken out."