#candycanecap

            Clint Barton was enjoying himself. He was laying on the floor with Lucky, trying to do this one contortionist move he’d learned in the circus. The dog was running in circles, confused but overjoyed, as usual. Natasha was somewhere, probably ordering pizza. Aww, futz, he thought, falling on his head. His limbs did not bend like that anymore.

            When he righted himself, Clint noticed Natasha standing in front of him, signing his name and probably shouting. Didn’t he have his hearing aids in? He put his hand up to his ear and realized they weren’t even on.

            “Clint...” Natasha rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of having those in if you’re not even going to turn them on?”

            “I forgot, okay? Why didn’t you just poke me or something?”

            Nat sighed. “I thought you were listening, you kept nodding and I assumed it was at what I was saying.”

            Clint rubbed his neck and then petted the dog. “I was nodding to the music I was singing in my head.”

            Natasha massaged her temples. “Of course you were.”

            “Did you at least order a pizza?” he asked, getting up off the floor.

            “No, we got a call from Fury about a new mission.”

            “Is it aliens or something? Avengers?”

            “No, it’s standard data recovery. Some idiot lost a briefcase with some nuclear launch codes or something.”

            “Same old, same old,” Clint muttered, grabbing his bow from the wall. “Tasha, boomerang arrows?” Something beeped in his ear. “Aww, batteries, no.”

            “We have to go; do you have any batteries here?” Natasha asked. Clint shook his head. She sighed again. “Keep them turned off for a bit to save the power, and when we get back you are going to Stark to get that fancy kind that never runs out of juice.”

            Clint flicked off the hearing aid, asking, “Where are we going?” He’d been teaching her ASL, and she’d gotten enough down to respond on missions.

            “Nowhere fun,” she replied.

            When they got nowhere fun, a crowded train station, it turned out their mark was some twenty year old genius hacker and Clint was not allowed to use his electricity arrow for fear of frying the kid’s tech.

            “Not another Stark,” Natasha groaned, her worst fear coming true. Any more cocky tech geniuses and she’d consider putting in her resignation.

            They split up, Clint taking the high ground while Natasha went to intercept the target. Once in position, Clint turned his hearing aids back on and nearly fell off his perch. It was so damn loud. Why did everyone have to talk so much? And why were trains so noisy?

            “Hawkeye, the target is approaching the train. He’s going to beat me there; slight change of plans.” The original plan was in and out without detection, but they were going to have to improvise a little. “Are you in position?” Natasha’s voice was tinny over comms.

            “Putty arrow, coming up,” Clint said, nocking and firing at the kid’s feet. The putty oozed everywhere, catching the kid’s feet as he tried to board the train. With another arrow (grabby arrow this time), Clint snatched the briefcase from the stumbling genius’s hands before it got covered in putty.

            “Nice shot, Hawkeye.”

            “Thanks, Nat.”

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