Mr. and Mrs. Barton

Clint:

His skillset laid in being able to come up something when everyone else saw nothing. That is how he came to find himself inside the vents at Nat’s work. Most large buildings had the same basic layout, and he knew the layouts very well. He liked vents. Vents are small places where no one ever thinks to look in case of an infiltration.

Well, vents and sewer systems. He’s been sewer systems. It’s a lot easier to come back into the thick of people smelling a bit like dust than it was smelling like…well, very unpleasant things. Which is why he sticks to vents when he can.

His ear piece turns to static, and knows Phil is so not going to like this plan. “Hawkeye, you better have one very good reason for being where I think you are.”

“Getting my wife back, sir.” Clint kept his voice soft, and his sense taking in everything in his surroundings. The bad part of vents is how things echo throughout. No need to giveaway his position when he was so close to his goal.

“Barton.” Coulson never used his last name except when highly annoyed with his agent. “We have teams in place for this sort of thing.” Agent Phil Coulson is one of the highest ranking handlers, and Clint wasn’t surprised at his ‘father’ having a backup for everything.

But Clint couldn’t depend on another team doing this. “I told you, sir. I have to do this on my own.” He did tell him, but telling him in a safe place was different than going into a viper’s nest without backup.

“GPS is disabled.” Coulson’s response is all he needs. His Handler is letting him go on his own. Which means no backup. No retrieval team. Just his wits and the skills he has accumulated over a lifetime.

“Thank you.” Clint answers, not expecting any response as he goes deeper into the vent system. He’s inside the honey comb, with the next step into play. “Hey, Mrs. Barton.”

“Clinton, I’m surprised. I told you not to call me at work.”

Natasha:

His voice on the speaker phone froze the world so that everything in her could focus on the voice. “Clinton, I’m surprised. I told you not to call me at work.” Though this wouldn’t be the first time he disobeyed those rules, but considering the situation?

“You know me, babe.” The endearment twisted something inside of her, but she couldn’t focus on that. She waves for the other women to get to work figuring out where Clint was at. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

Security information flashes on her computer screen, and she keeps her emotions under complete control as it went through floor by floor. “You may need to be punished for that.” The seductive tone that curled that sentence wasn’t voluntary, but it was something she could work with.

It was one floor away when the screen showed red on the floors. A breach on the level right below the floor that they were on. She pushes a button that silently sends all of the other women into motion. Silence is key for the moment. Or at least as quiet as possible. If an enemy agent was going to gain access to their level, they needed all of the information relating to them to be destroyed.

“Teasing me, Nat?” She can hear the smile in his voice, and it hurts like nothing she thought would. It was as though he was reaching in and twisting whatever remained of her broken, frozen heart.

The security system was pinpointing the exact location, but they didn’t have time for that. She punched in the code for everything to wipe and got into position with the others. They had back up plans for these kind of things. Lines connect the building they were on to the one next door with a quick pull of a trigger. Handles easily pulled out of tools easily hidden in the room filled with so many nook and crannies.

Natasha looks back at her desk, and sees a single piece of paper that they hadn’t destroyed. She didn’t have time to run back when the vent cover in the corner slams down on to the ground to reveal booted feet.

A blonde man jumps on out and the look on his face is full Clint Barton. She has gun in a holster at her side. She could easily pull it out, aim, and all of her problems would be over.

But she can’t.

Instead, she waves at her husband before hooking up to the line to join her ‘sisters’ on the other building.

Clint:

Clint busts out of the vents in time to watch Nat hook herself up to the rigging line. She looks back at him, and he can’t bring himself to move. She’s looking back at him clearly, as if a fog that he never noticed before has lifted and she’s the sun burning the rest of it away.

She’s carrying. He can see the thin outline of holsters under her clothes, but he doesn’t bother to leap out of the way. If she goes for the weapon, sure he’ll drop. He’s not an idiot, and despite popular belief he doesn’t have a death wish.

More like a lack of a life wish, but that issue is for the SHIELD therapists they keep sending him to to deal with.

He sees her turn from him, though, and take off to the other building. His feet are already moving before she’s out of the window, but he’s too slow to reach her in time. He watches as she goes along the line and lands on the other building with grace. Similar to the ballet dancers he took her to as a surprise date four months ago.

She waves his way, and if he had his bow and rappelling arrows with him he would be joining them on the other side of the building. Even if that may be a very bad idea the more he thinks about it.

It’s funny though, and he chuckles as he says his thought out loud. “She stole my move.”

He fiddles with the ear pieces until he gets it to the right frequency. “Yo, Phil. Send in the scavengers. The nest has been cleaned out.”

“Need clean up?” Clint can’t really fault Phil for asking. Usually Clint’s assignments end in bodies, not almost completely ruined tech and burned papers.

Papers…

He eyes, the thing he is known for, catches on a single paper that the ladies must have forgotten. Based on position, probably on Nat’s desk. Maybe things aren’t as bleak as they seem.

He finds the paper and turns it over to see a logo with a list of materials underneath. The list isn’t what he needs, but the logo is something he can follow.

“Nope.” He shoves the paper in a pocket. “Just the scavengers. Nat’s work place. I know you have the address.”

“You know they dislike like that nickname, Hawkeye.” Phil’s bland voice came over, and Clint knew that it was hiding humor.

He’s hilarious and he knows it. “Fine. I shall have to change it to vultures. Remind Vulture Kelly that he owes me a pack of donuts.”

Phil didn’t respond to that, or maybe it was just because Clint turned it off. His handler was okay with him doing things, but that doesn’t mean he was okay with everything. He still has a few hours left before the big guns are called in. Or at least the bigger teams.

He had to prove to SHIELD that he wasn’t going to let emotions get in the way of his job. If it comes down to it, he’ll do the right thing. The question at this point, was what that is.

Kill his wife or save her.

Clint is betting on the saving part. She left the paper behind as a trail. Natalie wants him to find her, even if she doesn’t know it herself.

He has the paper to prove it.