Just a little one-shot for all of you lovely readers ^^ For those of you waiting on a Gasoline update I promise it's coming. I've kinda been in a rough place so it may take a while, but I haven't abandoned the fic, I swear. I just wrote this a while ago and never got around to posting it. So here it is now!

Warnings: None

Timeline: Anywhere between Avengers and Avengers: Age of Ultron

New York was the city that never sleeps, the pinnacle of busy business life, the hub for travelers and bustling civilians. It also happened to be one of the most targeted cities on the planet for otherworldly disaster. Like, seriously, couldn't the aliens and mad scientists take over, oh, Boston? San Francisco? Heck, a different continent? It's not like New York was the ideal place for maniacs to start taking over the world with the Avengers tower stationed there after all.

Just last week, for example, some psychotic scientist came out of the blue and claimed he had "true power like no one had ever seen," and "tools at his disposal potent enough to take out—" yada yada yada and so forth. It seemed as if it was the classic crazy and an easy gig for the Avengers—which it was—but it turned out he wasn't kidding about the true power no one had ever seen. After all, a disintegration ray was new.

There had been minimal collateral damage—a handful of injured bystanders, quite a bit of property damage, but no deaths—which was all in a day's good work for Earth's Mightiest Heroes. A week was just about enough time for cleanup to be completed and on could hardly tell there had even been a life-threatening battle a mere seven days earlier. The people of New York seemed to be used to the constant threats on humanity by now and continued life as always.

This had always impressed and somewhat stunned Clint Barton.

The fact that these civilians could look death in the eye one day and act like it had never happened the next would never cease to amaze the super spy. By the time cleanup crew was finished repairing the damage Clint doubted anyone would hardly even remember the incident. He'd encountered many people who had a knack for adapting to change—he himself was no exception—but these people tended to be trained. Soldiers, assassins, spies, the kind of people he normally hung around. But how an entire city could adapt so well and so seamlessly would always be a mystery to him.

As he sat outside a café near Avengers tower and watched life pass on normally for those around him he waited to be, well, waited. It was a nice, small shop, owned by a local family. Clint always came for the drinks and stayed for the snacks. He was surprised that wasn't their slogan.

The spy looked up as a young woman approached him, the café's signature red apron over her clothing "Welcome to Karso's, what can I get for you today?" The girl had been at the café the past few times Clint had been and he could see the family resemblance between her and the manager as well as two other servers. He figured she was a part of the family business and had just started working. The archer smiled and ordered what he usually did. The girl wrote down what he wanted on her notepad, but not without eyeing him suspiciously as if there was some hint of recognition.

As soon as the young server left he sighed and shook his head to himself. He had always been a figure in the shadows, an unseen enemy sent on the most dangerous of missions. He was a spy. However, once he fought in the Battle of Manhattan (which was what the press had taken to calling the Chautari invasion) his cover was a little more than blown. Sure the bow was iconic since most spies didn't use them, but the general public hadn't known about it, only the inner circle of baddies and secret agents.

Even though people knew about him now, he usually would be stationed on roofs as the sniper, keeping an eye out for his fellow heroes. He was considered the help from above. He felt bad for Steve though. As a living legend and with seventy years of information to spread without him able to stop it most people on the street could easily pick him out of the crowd. At least Clint could stay out of the line of sight for most of the time—that gave him an advantage when escaping from prying eyes. But the others were ground fighters. Well, except for Stark and occasionally Thor, but everyone knew who Tony Stark was unless they lived under a rock and Thor had a second home in Asgard to retreat to.

Being an Avenger wasn't really a quiet life filled with privacy. This point was only proved more when the teen waitress came back with Clint's drink. "Pardon me," she started, "I don't want to pry…" The Avenger instantly put on a smile—the one he saved for speaking with those he really didn't want to. "But are you Hawkeye?"

The archer nodded. "That would be me. Don't go announcing it though."

The girl's eyes went wide and she shook her head. Her bangs shifted and revealed some stitches on her forehead. "Oh no, of course not. I-I just wanted to say thank you." Well that wasn't too uncommon, but people usually wanted a picture to brag to their friends about. Clint was glad to meet someone appreciative of his work. So he said so.

The girl went furiously red and hid her eyes. "Oh, well I just wanted to say thanks…Especially for last week. You saved my brother's life and my own."

Clint took a moment to try and remember her face from the dangerous event. He and Natasha had been put on civilian protection while the heavy-hitters took down the madman.

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After so many attacks one would think New Yorkers would know what to do and what not to do when it came to fights between the Avengers and psychotic villains. Be that as if may, people somehow didn't realize that jumping out of your car and running around like a chicken with its head chopped off was a bad idea.

A blast rang out far too close to the super spy duo for comfort. "I've got thirty-second street, you get thirty-third," Nat said through the comm.

"Got it."

This wasn't Agent Barton's first get-the-civilians-out-of-the-way rodeo, so things went fairly smoothly. It was only until the fight moved closer to the streets when things got complicated.

One car was particularly hard to get the passengers out of. With the fight nearing and the other drivers trying to get away as soon as they could, a blockade was created. It took a lot of effort from both sides to get the car door open. Once the two civilians—likely older sister and younger brother—were out, Clint began helping them out of the road and to the nearest building for shelter. However, a blast from the fight caused a car to go tumbling down the street. The two siblings screamed and ducked their heads. The archer whipped out an explosive arrow and fired at the vehicle. He immediately pulled the two kids behind another car for cover. After the heat of the explosion dissipated and shrapnel ceased to fly Clint slowly looked up. He surveyed the area for any further threat before helping the kids to their feet.

"Are you alright?"

The older sister hesitated, but after sharing a brief look with her brother, nodded. "I-I think we-we'll be okay." She pulled her brother closer and brushed her dark bangs out of the cut on her forehead. She looked at her fingers and went pale.

Clint held out a hand. "You'll be alight, head wounds tend to look a lot worse than they actually are so as long as you get some brief medical attention you should be fine." The girl nodded but grimaced when she did. "What's your name?"

"Carrie. And this is Benjamin," she said, gesturing to the boy who couldn't have been more than ten.

"Let's get you two to safety, shall we?" The hero led the two out of the street and into the nearest building where several others huddled. Carrie sat down in the nearest chair and began clutching her head. Clint kneeled down to get eye-level with Benjamin. "You keep an eye on your sister, okay kid?" Benjamin smiled shyly and nodded. "The rest of the Avengers and I will take care of this."

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Clint nodded as he recalled when he'd seen the girl. "Oh yeah! Carrie, right?" the teen nodded. "Well you're very welcome. And tell your brother I said hi."

Carrie grinned. "Oh, I will. After that adventure he insisted on taking up archery. He practically idolizes you." Clint chuckled. "Our family's just really happy he has someone to look up to—a good role model." The archer was somewhat taken aback by that. Carrie shook her head. "Well, I suppose I should actually get back to work before my dad catches me slacking. Thank you again for all you do. I honestly don't know how to repay you—you saved my life."

Clint smiled. "For you to use your years wisely would be payment enough." And that was the best advice he could give.

Thank you for reading! Please review, I love feedback!