The Lone Wolf (Clint Barton)

Chapter 47: Tracksuit Mafia

Jackie POV:

"Having fun?" I asked, finally speaking for the first time in six hours. All night they had been going, and the sun was now in the process of rising.

"You have no idea." Clint muttered lowly, making me chuckle. Another hour passed by before he started speaking again. Although clearly, it wasn't to me or to the person beside him, since everything he was saying was the low tones that he murmured while he signed. But when the phrase 'ridiculous overconfidence' came into play, I finally was able to take action. Sliding down the rooftop I was at, I quickly entered the warehouse. Surprised, yet not at the same time, at the lack of guards, I sprinted up the stairs and drove my shoulder into the man standing at the stairs.

Rolling and taking my sword out at the same time, I slashed open the stomachs of two incoming tracksuits, spinning and kicking the chest of another. Performing a backflip with ease, I landed with my sword piercing the heart of another tracksuit, using it for leverage to smash in the faces of the other three incoming. Looking up, the fight was already over, mostly because Clint had already started before I even stepped foot on the premises.

Running along with him, I stayed in step with him, shoving my comms into my pocket. Seeing his hearing aid smashed on the ground, I sighed, knowing that once again, we would need to replace it. "My hearing aid's smashed." Clint informed our tagalong, still keeping a firm grip on his bow. "Come on, we gotta go."

"But that girl still has my bow." Kate complained.

"We need a car." I informed, suddenly reminded by the lack of transportation we had. Really, the plan was that Clint would walk out the front door and everything would be fine, but that turned to shit.

"Oh, can we take this one?" Kate stopped in front of a Challenger. "Man, this thing's beautiful." As I started to break the glass of the car opposite, Clint stopped me and used his bow, stepping back to let me work the lock/handle. If there was one thing I had him beat with cars, it was being able to break into them. While he knew the makes and models and just about everything there was to know, I just recognized rather the car was fast or not--make and year be damned.

"I'm not smashin' a '72 Challenger. Come on." Clint groaned, stepping back as I opened the door and started to hotwire the engine. "Hey, get over here, I need you to drive."

"What? I don't know how to drive." Kate shook her head.

"You're 22 and you don't know how to drive?" I looked up from my work, my hands still going. "You know what, forget, I'll drive. As the engine started to purr, I looked back at Clint to see him sighing, already knowing what was decided. For some reason, my voice was the right tone that made it the easiest for him to hear, with or without the hearing aid. But just as I started to get into the passengers seat, he shoved me into the backseat and jumped into the drivers seat himself, apparently deciding that he was going to drive.

"You did not just push me away." I growled, making eye contact with him in the mirror.

"It's not my fault you don't know how to drive one of these things!" Clint yelled.

"Don't know how to drive--Clint, I'm a better fucking driver than you!" I yelled back, signing quickly also so that if he couldn't keep up with my lips, he could at least keep up with my hands.

"Yeah, tell Laura that!" Clint retorted.

"It was a mistake! The fucking breaks went out!" I was now yelling in Russian, which led to him to have to focus on my signing.

"Are you two seriously arguing in the middle of a fight?" Kate interrupted, having been firing arrows the entire time.

"This isn't that uncommon." I sharply told her, grabbing two acid arrows from where he always stored the five and handed them to her. "Here, shoot these at the stoplight." She obeyed, wisely choosing to ignore the argument Clint and I continued, with him yelling in English and me yelling in Russian while signing in the adapted signs that was a combination of British, American, and Australian sign with insults from other languages thrown in.

"Kate, get in." Clint ordered as we approached a bridge, taking his bow from her so that she could climb into the back. Opening his mouth to start our reconciliation from the argument (yes, that quickly), the Challenger pulled up beside us with the girl and a tracksuit inside. As the tracksuit pulled out a pistol to shoot us, Clint grabbed the gun and shoved it up to avoid getting shot. Taking the wheel from him, I began passenger set driving, focusing on the road and keeping the girl from running us off of it.

As the Challenger crashed due to the cab suddenly being filled with purple smoke (thanks to Kate), Clint groaned. "Great, and the Challenger gets totaled anyway."

"Clint, hit the brakes!" I ordered, seeing the cars in front of us. Not questioning me, he obeyed while I spun the wheel as well as I could with not being in the driver's seat, coming to a stop about two inches away from hitting the back of several cars. Hopping out of the window, I leaned onto hood of the car we stole while a moving van and a truck (a nice one too) started speeding up towards us.

"What are they doing?" Kate asked.

"They're going to crash into us." I informed, moving my head to avoid getting hit by the end of her bow.

"Here, take out that truck." Clint ordered her, holding his nearly empty quiver and his own bow. "Aim high, drop it right on him."

"What's the plan? This is just a normal arrow." Kate questioned, glancing at me in confusion.

"I can't hear you right now, so I'm just going to assume you're on board." Clint spoke while I simply smiled for an answer. I knew full well what was going to happen--hell, I helped him perfect the technique! As he hit the arrow so that it became giant sized, I chuckled at Kate's reaction. Pulling out my pistol from my boot holster, I returned the shots that the tracksuits were firing, rolling my eyes at Kate's threats. "Follow me!" Clint ordered her, jumping off the edge.

Jumping off the edge myself, I wrapped my arms and legs around him, relaxing my body for the jolt I knew was going to happen. Shoving my face into his neck, I squeezed him slightly, communicating that I wasn't mad at him anymore. And right as we were fixing to hit the roof of the train that was under the tracks, he squeezed my hand, responding to my apology with forgiveness. Then we hit. Unwrapping myself from his body, I climbed on top of the train, balancing myself while him and Kate held onto the suction arrow.

Once the train came to a stop, we boarded, collapsing onto a set of seats. Shifting my jacket so that my sword was poking me in the back, I leaned my head against Clint's chest, being able to sorta relax to the sound of his heartbeat. Really, I didn't have the best sleep the night before, not used to having to go to sleep without the steady sound of his heart. Yes, I know, I literally spent about two weeks away from him, but I never said that my sleep was peaceful. I just said I slept. There is a difference.

"Oh, we gotta walk the dog." Kate's rushed whisper kept me from going all the way asleep, although Clint's hand kept me from moving my head.

"You're not wrong." Clint stated, although I wasn't sure if he actually knew what she was saying or not, or if he was having a conversation all by his lonesome.

"He's been cooped up all day." Kate's voice was filled with concern and worry. "I'm sure how long a dog can..."

"You might be just one of the world's greatest archers." And that right there was the answer. They were both having a conversation with themselves, and were totally unaware of it.

"Oh, my God, do you really think so?" Kate gasped. "I wasn't sure how I'd do under all that pressure..."

"Probably should walk the dog. Don't you think?" Clint asked. "Been cooped up all day." I chuckled at the 'conversation' I had just witnessed before snuggling closer to him, relaxing my body while exhaling heavily. Once the subway train stopped