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11 February 2020 @ 01:17 am


I decided to make my journal Friends Only.  If you'd like to be added, please comment below.


20 September 2012 @ 04:55 pm
This was from my story Dog With No Name - I decided to delete it when I realized that if I wasn't careful, it was going to be the never ending one shot. Rereading it, I kind of like it - maybe I'll eventually do something with it. The finished story, minus this portion, is HERE.

A Dog With No Name - Deleted Scene

Rubbing her hands on her jeans, she said, “Tony been bugging you about Stark Tower?”

“You mean Avengers Tower, don’t you?” Clint said, shaking his head. “Maybe I’ll give the dog my room.”

“Stark would love that.”

Clint looked over at her, squinting into the sunlight. “You’re not actually thinking of moving in there, are you?”

She shrugged. “Wouldn’t have to worry about coming home to an empty fridge after a long mission.”

“Sure, that’s a great reason.”

“Well, you exist on food from street vendors. It’s not like you’ll starve,” she countered.

“I’ll have you know that hot dog had a full serving of every essential food group.”

“And even some non-essential ones.”

Clint leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, staring at the fountain, watching people stop to toss in coins, making wishes.  There were all sorts of people milling about – tourists, New Yorkers, little kids, cops, college students, homeless guys – your basic New York melting pot.  This was the city he loved – messy, lived in, gritty, with glimpses of beauty and serenity beneath the surface. He never wanted life in a high rise, fancy-ass building where everything was spit and polished, not even after he could afford it.  He’d stick out like a sore thumb.

“All of us under one roof? That’s a little too Brady Bunch for me,” he said, imagining group meals, group movie night, group vacations. He didn’t exactly want to take his work home with him.

“I know you, Clint. You’re lonely in that apartment.”

“I have neighbors.”

“Who all have lives.”

“Ouch. I have a life.” He rubbed the dog’s side, careful to avoid the raw spots that were still healing. “And don’t forget, now I have a dog.”

“With no name.”

“Worked out okay for the horse.”


I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name,” he half-assed sang and she stared blankly at him. “Nevermind,” he added with a sigh.

Natasha leaned over and grabbed his book. She opened it and started reading – he lost more books that way. “You need to accept that the dog’s name is Arrow and you need to accept that you’re part of a team now.”

“I’ve been a part of a team for years, Nat.”

“This is different from S.H.I.E.L.D. and you know that.”

25 August 2012 @ 03:10 am

Title: A Dog With No Name

Characters: Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff

Rating: G

Word Count: 1127

Genre: Friendship and humor

Status: One shot. Complete

Summary: The last thing Natasha expected to see her partner with was a dog. And it was certainly a cliché for an archer to have a dog named Arrow, but the dog was stubborn and Clint was having a tough time changing his name.

Note: This story was inspired by issue #1 of the new Hawkeye comic that was just released a few weeks ago.

Also can be read on: FF.NET | AO3


A Dog With No Name

Natasha gave her partner an incredulous look as she stood above him. He was at one of his favorite spots in Central Park – sitting on the steps leading down to the fountain with the angels on it – Bethesda Fountain, if she recalled correctly. Following the mess a little while ago with the Chitauri, it was the spot where the newly formed team had parted ways after Thor left with Loki. She was surprised Clint still kept coming there, but he was stubborn and it was a habit he'd had for years and he wasn't about to break it on the off chance that it dredged up some bad memories. He'd told her that if that was the case, he might as well take an early retirement and move to Florida.

Usually Clint had a book with him and a hot dog piled with everything under the sun while he listened to his iPod and got lost in his thoughts. This time, along with the book and the heart attack on a roll, there was a ragged looking mutt she had never seen before. He was missing an eye and patches of fur were shaved on one of his legs and his midsection, revealing marks from freshly removed stitches. All in all, the dog looked to be in the condition her partner usually was in – bedraggled, beaten … your basic mess.

"You got a dog?"

Clint sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "More like the dog got me. He didn't give me much of a choice."

"I've known you for five years and you can't even keep a houseplant alive."

"Hey, that's not fair," he said as he pulled the earbuds out and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles and looking for all the world like he could settle back into a nap.

"It was a cactus," Natasha pointed out.

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08 August 2012 @ 12:10 pm

Title: Guys’ Night Out

Characters: Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff and Pepper Potts

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3275

Genre: Friendship and humor

Status: One shot. Complete

Summary: Steve needs dating advice and he goes to Clint, figuring it will give him a chance to get to know the archer a little better.

Note: I wrote this for my great friend, 02cents, who is a bit of a Steve fangirl and wanted a story where he asked one of the team for advice about dating. This is what I came up with. Chronologically, this fits in before Stumbling through the Dark

Read it on:  FF.Net|AO3

Guys' Night Out

It was one of those nights – quiet, lonely, boring – the kind where Clint started to question his existence. Life … the universe … the usual shit. "Maybe I should just get a dog," he said to the empty apartment. A canned laugh track on a Friends repeat was his only answer. He squinted at the TV, trying to remember when Friends had even started. Last he remembered, he was watching a baseball game, the Mets losing and his mind drifting.

Shaking his head, he muted the TV and stretched out on the old couch, punching the pillow a few times to get the lumps into just the right spot. Still wearing the jeans and t-shirt he had on all day, he settled in for his umpteenth night crashing on the couch. He was almost asleep when he heard a knock at his door.

Groaning, Clint rolled off the couch, bracing his hand on the coffee table to push himself up onto his feet. He turned on the lamp on his way, hoping to cover up the fact he was about to fall asleep at ridiculously early time on a Saturday night. He preferred to keep his pathetic life a secret.

When he opened the door to his apartment, the last person he expected to see on the other side was Steve.

There were several reasons why Clint just stood and stared blankly at the super soldier filling his doorway - first of all, it was after eleven and for some reason he pictured Steve tucked into bed with a warm glass of milk by nine. Second of all, the only person who ever dropped by his apartment now that Coulson was gone was Natasha and that was to nag him to death. And finally, he didn't even think Steve liked him. Ever since the mess downtown, they'd basically been on the level of two people who happened to work in the same office – a friendly nod here or there, maybe a quick mention of the weather, and that was it.

It was on his to-do list – "Get to know Rogers" – but the list was long and ever since the mind-fuck, he considered it a good day if he got out of bed before noon, showered by three and maybe ate something by six, let alone saw another living soul and actual had a meaningful interaction with them.

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23 July 2012 @ 06:35 pm

Title: Midnight Ramblings

Characters: Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1600

Genre: Humor

Status: One shot. Complete

Summary: Natasha knew better than to engage Tony when he was rambling, but she couldn’t help looking up when she heard her name. Once he started throwing his theories at her about her supposed relationship with Clint, she realized she should have kept her head in her book and ignored him.

Note: This was written for the promptathon at be_compromised. If you're a Clint and Natasha fan, that comm is perfect. Oh, and writing Tony Stark is almost as terrifying as writing Bobby Mercer (and equally as much fun lol)

Also Read it on: | AO3

Midnight Ramblings

It was midnight and Tony was doing what Tony did best – mixing a drink. And Natasha was doing what Natasha did best – ignoring him.

He was rambling on about something, she didn't know what and she didn't care. It wasn't until she heard her name and Clint's that she looked up from the book she was reading. "What?" she asked.

"What what? Don't tell me the super spy wasn't paying any attention? You're slipping, 007." He was holding a pair of ice tongs and he waved them in her general direction, which was on the couch in the sunken living room. "Don't make me report you to Fury."

She rolled her eyes. "Trust me, even Fury tunes you out. All of us do."

"All of you?"

She nodded, enjoying the billionaire's look of bewilderment. "We have a support group that meets weekly to discuss different strategies."

"Now that I know is a lie."

"How do you know that?"

"Rogers wouldn't be able to keep something like that a secret."

"He silently recites preamble for The Constitution over and over again until you stop talking." She answered so quickly and so matter-of-factly that Tony faltered for a second. Unfortunately, it didn't take him long to recover.

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16 July 2012 @ 09:17 am

Title: The Blood On Her Hands
Characters: Clint Barton/Hawkeye and Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3072

Status: One shot. Complete

Read it on: | AO3

Summary: Agent Barton was sent to Russia to take out an assassin known as The Black Widow. When he starts to question his orders, he offers her an option to come with him instead, but before she can make up her mind, all hell breaks loose and they’re fighting for their lives.

Author’s Note: Just my take on “he made a different call”, which probably means I’ll eventually wind up writing a Budapest fic as well lol. I was definitely in a hurt/comfort mood when I wrote this.

The Blood On Her Hands

Her hands still had blood on them – that agent's blood, she never did find out his name. She absentmindedly rubbed them on the scrubs they gave her to wear, but it wouldn't come off. Why wouldn't it come off?

She wanted to pace, scream, hit someone … do something … escape. But the tiny room they had her in was windowless, the only door heavily guarded on the other side, and there wasn't even so much as a vent in the ceiling to slip through. At first she thought they had her locked up in a building, a medical one judging by the antiseptic smell that lingered in the air, but then she realized they were moving, like they were on some sort of craft – but she couldn't tell if it was by land, sea or air. She hated being confined and she hated being disoriented by her surroundings.

They'd shot her full of something when they'd rescued them, knocking her out, effectively disarming her the only way they could without a fight. She woke to find herself in a chair, not in chains or tied up or any of the other creative ways she'd found herself bound by captors in the past. Her wounds were neatly bandaged and her clothes gone, probably burned because of all the blood, most of which wasn't hers.

These guys were clearly playing the "We're civilized and want to be friends" card. Only an amateur would fall for it and she was no amateur.

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Fandom: The Avengers
Title: Stumbling Through the Dark
Chapter:  Three
Rating: PG-13 for language
Natasha finds herself standing outside Clint's door in the middle of the night, her gut telling her something is wrong with her partner and that he isn't as "Fine" as he keeps telling everyone. Takes place after the movie.

In this chapter, Clint and Natasha are in paradise - Nat wants to go dancing and Clint just really wants a nap. Looks like everything is going to be a piece of cake, but that's usually when things start to go horribly wrong, right?

Chapter One
Chapter Two

Note: I don't own The Avengers, Shakespeare's Sonnet Number 60, or Don't Think Twice, It's Alright by Bob Dylan

Chapter 3

It ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
It don't matter, anyhow

Ilhabela. He wasn't quite sure how to pronounce it, but one thing was certain – it sure beat the hell out of his apartment back in New York. If it wasn't for the small armory hidden in their luggage back in the hotel room, he could fool himself into thinking it was a vacation they were on, not a mission.

Off the coast of Brazil's mainland, the island wasn't huge – just a little over 100 square miles, but it had a thick, dense rain forest that was going to be a bitch to hike through to find their target – a fact he'd worry about in the morning. For the moment, he was going to focus on the beach and the ocean and shut out the rest of the world. The waves were gently lapping against the shore, the water was so blue it looked fake – like an artist had gone a little overboard with his paint and sacrificed realism for beauty. Clint just stared out, the stillness of it all washing over him.

"If I didn't know you better," a voice said from behind him, "I'd say you were out here writing sonnets to the sunset or some other romantic nonsense like that." Natasha took a seat next to him on the sand, her attention on the sun slowly fading, leaving vivid stripes of color across the sky.

He bumped her shoulder with his and grinned. "Who's to say I'm not?"

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Fandom: The Avengers
Title: Stumbling Through the Dark
Chapter: Two
Rating: PG-13 for language
Natasha finds herself standing outside Clint's door in the middle of the night, her gut telling her something is wrong with her partner and that he isn't as "Fine" as he keeps telling everyone. Takes place after the movie.

Chapter One
Chapter Three

Note: I don't own The Avengers or The Cave by Mumford and Sons.

Chapter 2

refresh my broken mind

"How is he, Agent Romanoff?"

"How is who, Sir?" she asked as she opened her refrigerator, hoping that the ingredients for a gourmet breakfast had somehow appeared overnight. The only thing that greeted her was the light bulb, but on the plus side, it was lit.

"Don't give me this 'how is who?' bullshit, Agent - you know precisely who I'm talking about."

She sighed and shifted her phone to her other ear as she started opening the cabinets. There had to be something vaguely resembling food in the apartment – after all she'd gone shopping … three months ago … for her apartment in London. She slammed the cabinet shut. "Agent Barton is just fine."

"For someone who has been trained in deception, you're not doing a very good job at lying right now."

"He needs time," she said, abandoning the thought of food. She couldn't lose Clint just as she'd gotten him back and if Fury doubted him at all, she'd be stuck breaking in a new partner and Clint would be left to vegetate on his shitty couch in his pit of an apartment. They didn't always work as a pair but when they did, they complemented one another so well that when one took a breath the other exhaled. She could never have that with someone as straight laced as Steve Rogers, or even worse, as egomaniacal as Tony Stark.

"Time is the one thing we don't have," Fury said, his tone dead serious. "The incident in New York is just the tip of the iceberg and we need to be prepared."

"When you need him, he'll be there, Sir. I trust him with my life and there aren't many people I'd say that about."

"Trust can be a dangerous thing; I don't need to tell you that."

She held her tongue – arguing with Nick Fury wouldn't get her anywhere and he also had the benefit of being right.

"I want to send you two on a simple mission. In and out, no muss no fuss. Think you can handle that?"

"Is this a test?"

"Of course it's a test, Agent Romanoff. And I hope for both your sakes that Agent Barton passes it."


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Fandom: The Avengers
Title: Stumbling Through the Dark
Chapter: One
Rating: PG
Natasha finds herself standing outside Clint's door in the middle of the night, her gut telling her something is wrong with her partner and that he isn't as "Fine" as he keeps telling everyone. Takes place after the movie.

Chapter Two
Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own The Avengers, Stumbling Through the Dark by The Jayhawks, and Long Shadows by Josh Ritter.
Also read it (and review if you feel so compelled) on  - Stumbling Through the Dark

Stumbling Through the Dark

I'm not afraid of the dark
When the sun goes down
And the dreams grow teeth
And the beasts come out

If there was a stereotypical New York City, rundown, creepy apartment building, she was standing in it. The halls were dark and dirty and smelled of piss, stale pot and other things she'd just rather not identify. If it wasn't for her years of training and the assortment of weapons she had stored under her civilian clothes, she might have felt a twinge of fear. As it was, she was wishing her job took her someplace halfway decent for a change, like a nice spa in the Caribbean or a chateau in the South of France – someplace far removed from reality.

Speaking of reality, Natasha had been staring at the scarred, battered door for a few minutes, unsure of what brought her there – her gut instinct or her nagging curiosity?

Something was wrong … something felt wrong.

She raised her fist prepared to knock, when the door pulled open a crack. "What do you want?" the husky voice on the other side asked.

She kept her voice steady. "You can put down the gun, Barton. It's me, Natasha."

"I knew that before I opened the door." His voice was flat, weary, and he didn't make a move to lower the pistol. She kept her hand firmly wrapped around the one in her jacket pocket, her finger on the trigger … just in case.

"Let me in." She tried to keep her tone light, like it was every day she showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, like she was there to ask for a cup a sugar, not to make sure he was still playing with a full deck and hadn't morphed into a Loki-fueled time bomb.

"Tell Fury I'm fine. Mission accomplished." He started to close the door but she quickly jammed her foot in the doorway.

"Fury didn't send me."

He snorted a laugh. "Bullshit."

"I'm here on my own." She inched her foot in further, wedging the door open. She could see inside – the TV was on, all the lights were off, but she could make out some things in the shadows - the hazy blue light from the television illuminating the liquor bottles littering the coffee table and dark lumps of junk scattered all over the floor and couch, making it look like her sometimes-partner had thrown a month long frat party. What a shithole, she thought with a grimace.

"If this is more clean your ledger crap, I'd rather just go back to bed," he said with a sigh as he took a step back. He waved his arm, gesturing for her to come in. The gun was still in his hand and he caught the glance she gave it. "Oh, right. Sorry," he said as he tucked into the back of his jeans.

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28 January 2011 @ 08:14 am