I don't always write Agents of Shield, but when I do, it's because I stuck an injured Hawkeye in it :)

I wrote this little surprise after the recent episode: "One Door Closes". the ONLY reason that association exists is because Hulk punched a wall... literally, All i saw was that cute little moment, and this entire thing was born.

This is a surprise for my editors! (because they see so much of my work beforehand, they deserve a little excitement of their own now and again, so please excuse some grammar mistakes. That is the only reason!)

Cabin in the Woods

Part 1

Clint Barton sighed as he saw the edge of the cabin finally come into view. He felt like he'd walked for the last four straight miles into the middle of nowhere. SHIELD bolt holes might be few and far between since HYDRA came to light, but he still had those old hideaways that even the cleverest agents forgot existed. Being able to enjoy this particular piece of solitude in the midst of the Canadian wilderness was a Godsend. The woods hadn't been the kindest to him in the last seventy-two hours. Having the opportunity to kick off his boots, prop his feet in front of a fire, and sleep the night away in relative comfort was all he cared about now.

The old holly and spruce trees bent in the cool wind that followed him down the mountain side and tumbled over the canopy. It brought a growing frost on its edge, like a snow threatening to fall but not quite ready to make that leap into full blown winter. During the sunlit hours, the heat could sometimes feel oppressive in the close grown copse of trees, but as night began to close in the true state of fall made itself known. He was lucky for the warmth, even if it beat through his leather jacket and threatened to roast him from the inside out.

Mounting the short steps to the old wood lined cabin, he transferred the few brown bags from one hand to the other and fished around for a key in the arrow heads trapped in his pocket lining. He felt fortunate for thinking to bring it along since Coulson hated when he resorted to breaking the door in. After he tried the door handle once, he inserted the key and popping the lock free. A click and a whirl from the door's inner mechanics ground in sequence. After a time they spun a small data pad in his direction. Clint typed in his combo code, punched enter, and finally the door's pop seal sprang inward. He slipped the key back into his pocket and pushed his way inside. Half a foot in, he stopped.

There was an empty bowl on the counter resting next to a spoon. The refrigerator door was half open, its internal light casting a shadow on the person standing next to it with a bottle of milk in her hands. Her jaw slacked as she saw him.