Target Practice - Clint Barton/Hawkeye

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A/N: This one is for daisy_up Hope you like it. 

***

Clint Barton started his day like he did every morning. After a shower, he poured black coffee into a travel cup and headed to the shooting range. It was always empty in the early morning hours and he liked the peace. He froze when he walked through the door on this particular morning. A stunning woman stood before him frowning at the bow in her hands. 

His eyes ran over her from head to toe and the corner of his mouth curled up in a smile. "Can I help you with that?" he asked, pleased when his voice held none of the nervousness he felt at talking to the beautiful woman. 

Her head jerked up. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open a bit. He had obviously surprised her. She tilted her head as she looked him over before smiling wide. Clint felt that smile like a punch to the gut. He'd thought her beautiful before, but that didn't touch her now with that radiant smile on her face. Focus, Clint, he told himself. Pull yourself together man.

"That would be wonderful," she said. "Thank you so much."

He nodded as he closed the distance between them. "No problem at all. That's kind of what I do around here. I'm the resident archery expert. Clint Barton. And you are?"

"Y/N Y/L/N. I'm new in case you couldn't guess, Hawkeye."

He smirked, puffing out his chest a bit at the thought she already knew who he was. "I see my reputation precedes me."

"So it does," she said with a light laugh. "Now, where do we start?"

She turned to face the target and Clint came up behind her. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before settling his hands on her hips. "All right. Turn just a bit. There, just like that. Now aim." She lifted the bow and he used his hands to adjust her arms. "Very good." He was standing much closer than necessary but she wasn't complaining. In fact, if the way her breath quickened was any indication she was enjoying it as much as him. 

"Now pull," he ordered, moving her elbow up slightly. "And release." The arrow flew true, missing the bullseye by only a couple of inches. 

Y/N jumped in excitement, a wide smile on her face. She threw her arms around his neck. "I hit it. Thank you so much." He returned the hug and grinned back. Her excitement was contagious. "Let's do it again."

Clint continued to 'help' her for the next hour, both of them enjoying the time immensely. Only when the door opened to admit someone else did they step away from each other. They both turned to find Natasha glancing between the two of them with narrowed eyes and frown. 

"Hey, Nat," Clint said as his cheeks heated. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. 

"Clint. Y/N," she said in return. 

He glanced at Y/N to find her smirking. His brow furrowed. He was missing something. As usual.

"Thank for the lesson, Clint," Y/N said with a hand on his shoulder before walking out of the room. His gaze followed her as she left and he couldn't help but smile when she glanced back to give him a little wave.

"What was that about?" Natasha asked and Clint put his attention back on her. Her arms were crossed over her chest and one brow was arched. Her lips were pursed in amusement. 

"I was just giving her a few lessons in using a bow, that's all."

"That's all, huh?" Laughter was heavy in her voice and Clint frowned at her. 

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Nat?" he asked, getting the distinct feeling she was making fun of him. 

"That was Y/N Y/L/N. I was part of her intake team. She already knows how to shoot a bow."

Clint scratched his head with a frown. "Oh."

Natasha stepped closer to him. "In fact, she was part of the US Olympic archery team."

His scowl deepened. She certainly hadn't acted like she already knew what she was doing. Was she making fun of him, too?

Natasha stopped right in front of him and put her hands on his shoulders. He locked gazes with her to find her smiling at him. "She acted like she didn't know what she was doing so you would offer to help her. So she could get closer to you."

There was silence as Clint processed what his best friend was telling him. Suddenly it dawned on him. "Oh," he said again, only this time with wide eyes. Natasha continued to hold on to his shoulders as she tilted her head in the direction of the door.

"Oh!" he exclaimed this time and darted to the door, throwing it open. "Y/N, wait up!" he yelled down the hall as he jogged toward the elevators. 

Natasha watched him until he was out of sight then shook her head. "Bird brain."



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