#whothehellisbella

You couldn't bring yourself to do it. He's made something of himself, he was no longer an assassin for hire, but a government agent. He used his skills for good, he helped people, saved lives. Who were you to take that all away from him? He'd always spoken of how he wanted to get out of the life, find a nice woman, buy a house, settle down with kids and a dog. Could you rip it all out from underneath him?

Your eyes strayed down to the folder beneath your elbows, his face staring back at you, steel blue eyes twinkling, his face pulled up in laughter. You had no idea who took the photo, but it brought a smile to your lips. He was happy, he had a team that cared for him, people who had his back and stuck by his side.

But you knew it had to be you. You could make it quick, painless, a bullet from thousands of miles away. Something he'd never see coming. Anyone else would drag it out, make him suffer the worst ways possible before finally allowing him to drift into the sweet mercy of death. If you timed it right you could do it while he was on a mission, let someone else take credit for finally taking down Hawkeye, allow them to face the wrath of the Avengers.

A movement on the horizon caught your eye, a quinjet spinning around to land on the platform specially designed for the high tech vehicles.The team home from the latest world threatening event, or whatever smaller mission they’d run for Shield. The urge to check they had all made back safe tugged at your fingertips, but you gripped onto your coffee even tighter. You were about to destroy all of it, ruin their team, take one of those they valued most from their side. It didn’t matter how they all were right now, they were going to get so much worse.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

It was early in the morning, most of those that inhabited New York city were still wrapped up in the warmth of their beds. Cocooned by the blankets that would soon be thrown back as alarms rang. It was your favourite time of day, the first rays of sunshine breaking through the dark of night, very few making it through the high rise buildings to dance with the street lights below.

It was the time of day you preferred for running, not having to dodge many cars nor pedestrians as you completed a lap of six blocks, never going the same way twice, alert even as your favourite song played in your ears.

You wish you could say you noticed him first, the second pair of footsteps that echoed behind your own, matching your stride no matter how fast nor how slow you ran. A glance in the reflections of the buildings you passed not giving up who it was that followed you. So you stopped, bending down as though trying to tie your shoe. You knew that your life had made you paranoid, ready to jump at the first out of the ordinary thing. You’d learnt it was always best just to check that it wasn’t some poor jogger unknowingly running the same route as an assassin.

You breathed a sigh of relief, muscles loosening as the person ran straight past you, not pausing to talk, nor stopping to attack. Heavy footsteps coming from each slap of black sneakers on the ground. You listened as they kept going up the street, before standing back up, taking the opportunity to glance around you, making sure you were alone again, before continuing on your run.

A hand wrapping around your wrist barely half a street later startled you, the tug pulling you down the alley way. Hands pinned to your sides, back against a wall as a firm body pressed against your own.

“So you’re the one.” His voice made you freeze, an attempt to fight back forgotten. “The one they sent to kill me.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, icy blue eyes raking your frame as he released your wrists. “I hope you know I’m not going to make this easy on you.” His lips pressed to your cheek before he turned and made his way back down the alley way. Clint Barton once again stealing your breath and running away.

You had wanted to do this from afar, a sniper rifle and scope to take out the world's best marksman, but now? Now it was on.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

You hoped his coffee taste hadn’t changed, hands tightening around the trays of takeaway coffees as you entered Stark Tower and made your way to the receptionist desk. You put the trays down on the front desk, adjusting the hat you’d stolen from the actual delivery girl when you’d taken the Avengers coffee orders from her hand.

“You can go right on up, don’t worry about pushing a button, the elevator will handle it for you.” The man behind the desk motioned towards the elevators with a wave of his hand. The elevator doors seeming to open with the gesture.

“Oh no, I couldn’t, my boss needs me back asap.” You tried to refuse if Clint or Natasha saw you your cover would be blown.

“It’s okay, I can do it.” Clint’s voice behind your back had to you calling on every ingrained spy talent you had to not react. “You know how Tony gets with new people in his elevator, and this delivery girl isn’t cleared to go upstairs. Are you darling?” You scowled, arms folding over your chest as you turned to face him. He only chuckled, reaching around you to pluck his coffee from the tray and hand it back to you.

“Poison really? You can do so much better than that.” He teased, picking up the remaining coffees and walking towards the elevator. “And you owe me a new coffee!”

You watched him as the elevator door slowly started to close, “Cafe across the road, four o’clock, come alone!” You called, watching the smile tug up at his lips, and a quick nod confirming he would be there before the doors sealed.

You knew you were being stupid, there was no logical reason for you to meet up with him, replace the coffee that you’d slipped a debilitating drug into. But at the same time, you felt as if you owed him an explanation. If you were to kill him he at least deserved to know why the people who’d demanded his head on a plate. Why it had to be you that did it. You had to make him understand.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

He was there before you, leaning against the counter and chatting to the barista as she made coffees. His other hand tucked into his jean pocket, leg tucked beneath the other. He looked so carefree and casual. You’d never seen him so at ease, when you worked together he was always tense, high strung, prepared for anything and everything.

“Ah, here she is.” He pushed himself off of the bench when you stepped through the doors, his arm going over your shoulders and tugging you into his side.

“You’re early.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders as if it would dislodge his arm, but it didn’t, his fingertips gently running across your shoulders.

“I thought I’d get the coffees and pick out a table before you got here.” He looked down at you, a genuine smile still on his face, “but I didn’t know what type of coffee you liked, so I thought I’d wait for you.” You glanced down at the silver strapped watch that wrapped around the arm over your shoulders. You were 15 minutes early, wanting to scope out the place and make sure none of the Avengers were going to show up and attack you, and he was even earlier than you. He must have decided to do the same, affording you the same level of trust that you gave him.

“What’ll it be?” The barista asked, tapping her fingernails against the screen as you named your favourite coffee, followed closely by an Americano for Clint, not even needing to glance at him to know he’d be smiling that you still remembered his coffee preferences.

“Awww, you did miss me.” He teased, leading you towards a table in the back, far away from both doors and the windows. It was a corner that most customers would never even consider, making it perfect for the conversation you knew was to follow.

You hesitated as he pulled out a seat for you, his hand leaving your shoulders before he walked around to the opposite seat, leaning back so the back of the chair rested against the wall, his legs cutting across the corner of the table.

“So, who is it?” He asked the question as soon as you sat down, trying to pretend like he didn’t care about whatever name that was about to fall from your lips, his body language forced as he tried to make you believe his lie, but you knew better.

“Laura.” The single name fell from your lips, and he reacted all too quickly, his legs off the table, legs of the chair slamming onto the ground, eyes widening.

“She was the first to hire The Company for the hit, but she started a trend, and soon nearly every contract taken was for you. Clint, there are thousands of them, you aren’t going to get out of this one.”

“Did she say why?” He leant towards you, hands resting on the table between the pair of you, fingers tangled in with each other as he tried to halt his reaction.

“If she did it wasn’t passed on. You know how The Company works. I get a basic file and a name. Did you tell anyone?” He shook his head, before dropping it down to rest on the table. You moved your hand towards his head, wanting to offer some sort of comfort, but you dropped it before you could.

“I needed more information, and I didn’t want to worry them. You know how Tasha is, and the others can get way worse.” He sighed, lifting his head to look up at you. Unshed tears threatening to pool in his eyes. “The downside of being the only human on the team.”

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, glancing up as you heard footsteps draw closer. Neither of you said anything more than a thank you as the two coffees were placed down in front of you.

“I don’t want to die, I’m not ready to, not when I’m finally managing to get my life on track.” He answered, as you wrapped both hands around your coffee cup and lifting it to your lips, ignoring the burn of the flimsy cardboard takeaway cups.  It would be better than reaching for the brown haired archer in front of you.

“The Company has thousands of assassins at its fingertips-” You started to point out the problems, but he cut you off.

“I know, trust me, I know.” He sighed, taking a small sip of his coffee.

“I wanted to turn down the job, the last person I wanted to hurt was you, but when I saw the other names they were going to offer it to... At least I can make it quick and painless.” You put your coffee down to grip his hand. “You can take me out first, I understand, but there are several after me who won’t, who can’t fail. Even with the Avengers help, you won’t see them all coming, you won’t be able to stop them.” Your thumb brushed over his knuckles, hoping the gentle movements would help calm him, offer some reassurance.

He moved a hand to cover yours, fingers entangling with yours to hold them still. He sighed once more, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of your palm before resting it against his cheek.

“Why you? Anyone else I would have killed in a heartbeat, but you?” He dropped his forehead to rest against your hand. “I can’t hurt you.” He lifted his eyes to you, hand still grasped in his. You didn’t know if you were supposed to hear the words that fell from his lips, so you ignored it.

“Tell Natasha, she’ll protect you.” You pulled your hand out of his grasp, picking up your coffee cup and walking away, well aware that you’d just signed your own death warrant.

“Wait-” You paused, listening to him move closer to you, his hand wrapping around your upper arm so you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. “Give me a month, one month to live life to the fullest, give me a month with you. Fulfil everything on my bucket list. Then I won’t stop you, just make it something epic.”

“Clint I-” It was hard enough to kill him now, but if you gave in to his request it would be next to impossible to finish the job.

“I’ll even help you do it. Some sort of explosion would be perfect, in the middle of a fight. I always wanted to go down fighting. Just, one month. There’s so much I want to do, meant to do, probably should have done considering my day job.”

“What stopped you?” You mentally hit yourself, why were you asking? Why were you considering this? It was insanity, what if you started to like him any more than you already did? You’d never pull the trigger.

“You.” He tugged at your arm, turning you to face him. “More specifically the lack of you.”

“What-”

“I made all these plans when we worked together. I know we pretended to hate each other, but you drive me crazy. I want to do so much, with you. Please, grant a dying man his last wish.” He looked at you with something akin to a puppy dog’s expression.

“Barton you’re being-” You tried to stop him, but he was never one to be stopped.

“Irresistible? Charming? Adorable?” He cut in with a grin, loosening the grip on your arm and running his fingers down to grasp at your hand.

“Ridiculous. You think this will help? That I’ll fall in love with you and not be able to do it? That I’ll give my own life so you can have just a little extra time. It’s not a matter of if, Barton, it's when and how. I thought I’d be the nicer option.” You pulled your hand out of his, hardening your facial expression, you couldn’t give in, it wouldn’t end well if you did.

“Tell Natasha you still need more lessons. I won’t be seduced by you.” He grabbed your arm once more before you could leave, bending his head towards you so his next words were whispered directly in your ear.

“You won’t, or you won’t admit to it.”  His breath rolled over your neck and down your shoulder, kissing your cheek as he moved away, not giving you a second to register what he said before leaving.

You shook yourself out of it, glancing to the table to see he’d taken his coffee cup with him, despite you never actually noticing. It was so like him, never able to resist the draw of caffeine.

You thought about what he said on the way back to your apartment. There was no way he’d just accept death, even if you did give him a month, no matter what he said. His survival instincts were too strong, even if consciously he agreed, his subconscious would never submit. He had proven time and time again that he would do anything to survive, it was what made him such a good partner.

So what would you do, he knew you, knew your tactics and how you liked to operate. His hints at how he would like to die would never actually happen, explosions meant civilian casualties, and that was sloppy.

You toyed with the idea of accepting his offer, weighing up the pros and the cons. That month would give you several chances to kill him, but it also gave him the opportunity to do the same. Not to mention the fact that he was right, you’d always had a small crush on the master archer, if you gave him the time he asked for he would worm his way into your heart and make killing him impossible.

But you were a survivor as well, and letting him change your mind would end with you both dead. Most certainly tortured until your bodies just gave way. You couldn’t have that.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

Clint Barton couldn’t lift his mind from you. He’d known meeting you would stir up old feelings he’d struggled to hide to begin with, but he couldn’t resist the chance to spend more time with you. After the last mission, he never thought he’d see you again, always living with the regret that he hadn’t shown you how he felt.

He knew why he hadn’t, it had been logical at the time, you were both highly trained, highly sought after assassins, one’s that couldn’t afford weaknesses.

You showing up again was his chance.

The failed attempt at poisoning his coffee was a sign, one that you weren’t fully committed to the job you’d taken. Clint knew you, well enough to know that if you’d been as detached from the case as you were portraying that he never would have seen the kill coming.

And the fact that you’d invited him out for coffee? Actually showing up, and it not being a trap. You weren’t willing to kill him, he had a chance to turn you, or at least make you change your mind and let him live. It was his second chance to do everything he regretted not doing when you worked with him.

Clint knew he was being an idiot when he begged for just one month. A pathetic attempt at getting a chance. You were right to call him out on it, there was no way he’d ever just roll over and die. Not while the Avengers needed him, the world needed him.

A month with you was dangerous, you would take control right from the start, and he wouldn’t stop you. You would take him to seedy places, deliberately pick fights with people. Even if you accepted you wouldn’t honour the one month of peace, every move would be one more towards his eventual death. Clint Barton just couldn’t bring himself to care, he’d do anything, follow you anywhere, just to spend a little time with you.

He wouldn’t even tell any of the Avengers. His death would be a mystery and a surprise. They’d mourn him, but then they’d get another sharp shooter, and move on. Nat would be hit the hardest, and her rage and grief would allow you to get away with a lie that you were simply an innocent bystander. None of the Avengers would know it was you, and once the funeral was over and the suspicion died down, you’d just vanish.

He’d seen you do it before and knew just how easy it would be to do again. He doubted you’d even have to fake your grief.

His phone ringing broke him out of his thoughts, a smile appearing as he read ‘unknown caller’ appear on the screen. It had to be you.

“Barton.” He answered, moving closer to the window’s that surrounded his flat to look down at the roads below, wondering if you were still down there.

“You have a deal Hawkeye, one month. Get your affairs in order.” You had hung up before he could offer a reply, no doubt trying to avoid the call being traced. He pulled the phone away from his ear, tucking it back into his pocket before glancing around at the huge loft apartment.

One month? He could live with that.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

It was four days before he hunted you down, cornering you on your morning run once again.

“This wasn’t our deal.” He fell into step beside you, reaching over to tug a headphone out before he spoke.

“One month more to live. 26 days left.” You countered, speeding up as if you could outrun the master assassin, but he kept pace with you easily.

“One month more, with you,” he corrected, “and I haven’t heard from you in four days, you left me no way to contact you.” A glint on the top of a nearby roof caught your eye, a ray of sunlight finding a way to reach the pavement right below.

“Doesn’t seem to have stopped you.” You made a sharp turn to your left, and he followed. Not realising you’d taken a quick second to grab your knife as you did so.

“I thought this was better than showing up at your apartment. Anyway, we’re going out tonight. I’ll pick you up at 7.” You grabbed his arm as he leant closer, using the momentum of suddenly coming to a stop to spin him around and slam his back into a wall. Knife pressing against his throat as you used your body to pin him against the brick building.

“I wish I could say I wasn’t expecting this.” He didn’t try to fight back, instead leaning closer to the cool blade, forcing your hand to move back so he couldn’t cut himself. You didn’t reply, watching his semi-relaxed body language as he offered a smile, knowing you wouldn’t harm him, this time.

You dropped the knife from his throat but kept him pinned against the wall, motioning for him to stay quiet as you looked around.

“Seriously, I thought you’d have a little more class than to fake a mugging, it’s way too easy.” He ignored you, continuing to talk until you slapped your hand over his mouth.

“Shut up.” You hissed, eyes stopping on the building's fire escape, the easiest route up to the roof where the small ray of light had been redirected. Clint glanced at you, taking in the way you’d changed, from the woman that was trying to avoid killing him to the master assassin he knew you could be.

“Where?” You motioned to the roof above his head, before gesturing to the fire escape. He caught on instantly, sidestepping out of your hold and moving to stand beneath the ladder, making sure to stay under the cover provided by the roof.

“Stay here, they’re after you.” You ordered, as he crouched down and linked his hands together. Neither of you would be able to pull the ladder down on your own, but together it would be easy. You put the knife away before resting both hands on his shoulders, balancing yourself before putting your foot in his hands and nodding. Clint lifted you with ease, no shake in his muscles as he held still and let you grasp onto the ladder. His hands moving to rest on your waist, guiding you back down gently as the ladder slid down towards the ground as well.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, looking up at the man you were once again pressed against. “I’ll be back soon.” You turned out of his hold and started to climb up the fire escape, your anger growing with each step upwards.

Barely hesitating before you stepped out onto the rooftop, eyes locked on the man that was still looking over the edge, a sniper rifle in hand and moving back and forth, looking for his target.

“Who the hell sent you!?” He snapped upright, spinning around to look at you, but he was too slow. Your hand closing around his neck and lifting him off the ground, kicking the sniper rifle away before it could be aimed at you.

“No one.” He gasped, hands scratching at yours as if he could pull your hand from his neck and open his airways once again.

“Lies.” You took a step closer to the edge, his feet grazing along the edge of the building before going off it entirely. “Who sent you?” No reply was offered, legs kicking frantically in hope that they could reach the edge again. Hands wrapped securely around your wrist as if he could hold onto you if you let go. So you did, letting your arm drop slightly and watching with a grin as his eyes widened, a gasp passing his lips as his life flashed before his eyes.

“Who sent you?” You repeated, “and I would hurry, my arm's getting tired.” You let your arm drop just that little bit more.

“The Company, The Company sent me.” You pulled him back in as the name of your employer fell from his lips, throwing him to the ground, watching as he gasped, filling his lungs with air once again.

“Hawkeye is my target.” You snarled, taking slow deliberate steps closer, enjoying each little flinch he made to get away from you.

“I wasn’t told of that- they said-”  He stumbled over his lies, angering you further. He was a fool if he thought he could lie to you.

“Stop lying!” You slammed your foot down mere inches from his nose, a whimper leaving his lips as he barely managed to dodge in time.

“They think you’re compromised! Hired a huge group of us to take out Hawkeye because she said you couldn’t. I’m not the only one!” The words passed his lips into a flurry, no doubt remembering all the rumours and stories that circled your name.

“She was wrong.” You flipped your knife out, kneeling down in front of him, “and you’re going to pass along that message.” You didn’t give him enough time to understand your words, shoving the knife into his throat and twisting, immediately stopping the flow of air. “He’s mine.”

“I mean, I thought I was my own person, but I don’t mind being claimed by you.” You glanced up at his voice, seeing him leaning against the internal staircase wall, steel blue eyes watching you closely.

“I told you to wait.” You cleaned your knife on the guy's shirt, standing and moving towards him.

“And miss this? You’ve gotten stronger, you used to make me dangle them off of roofs.” He threw his arm around your shoulders as you walked closer, opening the door and leading you down the stairs within.

“You put yourself in danger.” You didn’t bother trying to shrug yourself out from under his arm, it would be pointless anyway.

“Eh, you had my back. I had thought of ducking myself, but I was curious to see what you do.” He didn’t seem frightened by your actions, he’d seen them all before. Knew exactly who you were and what you did for a living, he might have got out, but you were just as stuck as ever.

“Think they’ll listen?” You looked up at him, the quiet words that fell from his lips as it all hit home.

“Your contract is worth billions to the company. You know how they like to hoard their treasure.” You replied just as quietly, eyes scanning the buildings around you as you both stepped out onto the street. “All I can ask is that they honour the deal we made. Even you and your team cannot take out every assassin they send for your head. Don’t make this harder than it has to be Barton.”

“We’ve taken out an alien army lead by a god, what's a few assassins?” He hugged you tighter to him.

“Clint-” There was no sympathy you could offer, even he knew how futile it was. He’d been a contract worker for The Company for a few years. The Company was one of the biggest in the world, and it had only grown since he had left.

“Three weeks isn’t a lot of time.” He sighed, head resting against yours for a mere moment as you turned the corner back towards your apartment.

“It's more than any of my other tango’s get. You’re a special case.” You entered the code to enter the building, tangling your hand with the one he’d left over your shoulders and dragging him inside with you.

“So he was right? You are compromised.” Clint pushed the button to call the elevator, squeezing you gently as you were both forced to wait.

“Perhaps, but that will not stand between me and what I was employed to do.” You pulled him into the elevator as it opened, quickly hitting the number for your floor at the very top. “Not when the time comes and our agreement is over.”

“But until then?” He asked, leaning back against the elevator wall and tugging you to lean against his chest, still not letting you go.

“Until then I shall honour the agreement, and take out anyone else who decides they get the right to end you.” You replied, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, he had been your partner within The Company, if anyone had the right to take him down it was you.

“This way.” You pulled yourself away from him and took his hand, leading him behind you towards your apartment. There was a high chance that your boss would be waiting for you behind those doors. Your apartment wasn’t officially on The Company’s radar, it had one you had bought for yourself, but you knew better than to think they didn’t know about it. They kept all their assets on a tight leash.

“You’re scared.” Clint pulled you to a stop as your shaking hand reached towards the door handle. “There was only ever one person I’ve seen you scared of.” You didn’t even acknowledge he spoke, pushing open the door, and nodding to the woman awaiting within.