𝑷𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒎-𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒂

𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑨𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔

Astrid walks around the room, hanging up Christmas decorations. Each garland and Christmas decoration makes the place look more like home than it ever has. She hasn't seen any holiday decor in the apartment since her mother died. Mark never celebrated Christmas, at least by the normal persons definition. 

"How do we get more trick arrows?" Kate wonders aloud. She remembers the car chase with excitement. 

"Well, there are no more trick arrows." Clint  declares. The police had taken them all away. Along with most of Astrids knives. 

"Like in the whole universe?" Astrid clarifies as she wraps lights around the tree, with Clint's help. The young woman struggles to decorate it making him chuckle. She sticks her tongue out at him in relent. 

"Basically. I have a few more trick arrowheads. But you can't just put 'em on any shaft. So, we really have to get these back." He explains as Astrid and Kate decorate.

"What're you doing?" Astrid ask as Clint finishes decorating the short tree. Small pine needles get brush her face, causing her to let out a powerful sneeze. The dog barks at the noise causing the three to break out in laughter. 

"See? Tree covers the parts that won't come off." He shows the inexperienced girl. 

"Have you ever heard of boomerang arrows?" The younger archer challenges her inner thought. 

"Oooh." Astrid expresses amazement, "I want boomerang knifes." 

"What? Why would I ever want to use a boomerang arrow?" Clint puzzles as he sits back down. 

"Because they come back." Kate states, ignoring the absurd look written across Clint's face. 

"Exactly." 

"Yeah, well, if all trick arrows were boomerangs, then we'd have them all."

"Coming back at us!"

"You'd have to dodge." Astrid utters in an obvious tone, making the motion to move out of the way. He roles his eyes at the girls. 

Clint teaches them many tricks as the night goes on. Such as knocking someone out with a quarter from 20 feet away. Not that it would come into any use. The three's bond grows closer throughout the night as they share each others stories, Clint's stories in particular. 

"Best shot you ever took?" curiously ask Astrid as she drinks a cherry slushy.  

"Uh, the one I didn't take."

"What does that mean?" Kate looks up at him. 

"Uh, it means... Never mind, shouldn't have said it." He mumbles partly to himself. 

The Bishop girl whines in annoyance, "Oh, come on, you can't do that."

"What? Come on, consider it my Christmas present." Astrid begs with puppy-like eyes. 

"Look, it'll be a good story, I'm sure..." Kate continues to pressure Clint, causing him to finally cave in. 

"It's... about the time I met someone. I was sent to take her out. And when I got there, when it was time... Um... I couldn't do it. I just had this feeling that she wanted out. Turns out, I was right." Longing is written across his features with undeniable sadness. The story opens up a never-healing wound. The one that a fallen avenger left him with. Her death. 

"You mean Natasha."  Astrid states.

"Yes." He affirms her accusation. 

"She was the best there was."

"Im sorry Clint." Astrid comforts him, just as he did to her the previous day. She rest her arm around his shoulder. 

"It's all right. It's, uh... When you do what I do for a living, it..."