Title: The High Road Is Hard to Find

Summary: He had been sent to kill the Black Widow. But as he sighted down the arrow something shifted and he suddenly found himself making a different call.

Chapter title: Epilogue

Author's Note: And so we have the little epilogue to finish this story off properly. I want to take a minute to thank every single reader who took their time to show their support to this story by reviewing, favoriting and alerting. All of it means a lot to me as a writer to know someone is enjoying what you are making. I am hoping all of you would take a little second to write a little comment about what you thought as the story as a whole and the characters and the events and so on. It would really make me very, indescribably, a lot, really happy!

So one last time, enjoy and please leave a review at the end. Thank you!

Disclaimer: This is written for entertainment purposes only. No profit will be made and no copyright infringement intended.

6 months later

Clint waltzed through the halls of the SHIELD base, his bag slung over his shoulder and the suitcase for his collapsible bow in his hand.

He was happy to have returned to Washington again after finishing what would be the fifth scouting mission in the past 6 months. It was the only thing he had been assigned to lately and the biggest adrenaline rush he had gotten during those months was missing a step on a flight of stairs on his way to the roof. Needless to say, he had been bored out of his mind.

He knew he was being punished in the worst way possible. For half a year he had done nothing but basically sitting on his ass and watching people, gathering intel, like some common low-level agent. On some level he had found new respect for those who never got to do anything else and not have physically strangled themselves after the first two weeks. But he also found that this was way below his pay-grade. This was the sort of thing you got assigned to when you were new and they weren't completely sure of your skill-set. Clint considered himself a patient man at the best of times but there were some things he didn't have the patience for. This was one of them. During the time since he had been sent on the Kazakhstan mission he had been jittery with unused energy that he couldn't truly spend properly, but at the same time he was exhausted from long days and nights of simply watching and documenting. He was so completely and thoroughly bored and he found himself praying that somewhere there must be some dangerous jackass that decided to stir up trouble. He hoped that would make Fury end this horrible, dull torture he was caught in.

He knew it was supposed to teach him a lesson about pulling another stunt like the one with Romanoff. Perhaps the lesson had been learned but if it ever came down to it and he found himself face to face with the same dilemma all over again he would do it without hesitation. Some things were worth suffering for.

Clint had been pleasantly surprised to find that even after 6 whole months Romanoff hadn't tried to kill anyone or make her escape. None of the Red Room agents came knocking on SHIELD's door or corrupted any missions that would suggest the Widow had betrayed them. Instead the redheaded assassin had simply done pretty much what he had done his first months here. She followed and excelled the training schedule and otherwise stayed away from any unnecessary human contact, although she seemed to be a much bigger expert in the latter than he had been. She basically ignored all those she could and those she couldn't she spend the minimum vocabulary she could get away with. The only ones she even responded to was Coulson, the few trainers she hadn't completely scared off yet and Clint, although most of the responses he got out of her were pointed, hard glares and eye-rolls. The archer prided himself on being the only one who could annoy her like that.

Phil joined him on his way to his private room. He had missed having his handler with him on his missions, especially when there had been nothing to do. He would at least have had someone to talk to. But that wasn't something he was about to admit out loud, although he suspected the older agent already knew.

"How was Istanbul?" Phil asked casually. They never wasted time on pleasantries.

"Boring as hell. Just like Egypt, Marrakesh and everything else before that," Clint quickly replied. "How's Romanoff doing?"

"Due to receive her agent status any day now."

"Really?" Clint whipped his head around to stare at his handler. "That was fast."

"What did you expect? She's aced pretty much every test we've given her," Phil explained.

"Guess I didn't expect them to trust her that quickly," Clint shrugged his shoulder in an attempt to readjust his bag.

"Oh, they don't. That's why they assigned her to you."

The words came out so casually that it took Clint an extra second to actually register what Phil had said. When it finally did, he stopped in his tracks. "To what now?"

"Technically, they made me her handler," Phil started to explain, his posture and attitude so casual it didn't match any of the words he spoke. "But you're the one to keep an eye on her out there in the field and then report back to me."

"You're kidding right?" Clint tried again. "None of us are exactly team players. We could end up killing each other."

"That would probably make the higher-ups happy."

"Phil," Clint warned with a dry stare. He didn't care much for the light-hearted joke.

His handler however didn't seem fazed by it. It was clear he was having the time of his life at Clint's expense. He continued on with a light smirk on his face. "Suck it up, Clint. This could end up being a good thing."

Clint sighed heavily and knew the battle was lost before it even begun. He just had to accept the fact as it was. "Do we at least get a cool codename to go with our little group?"

"They're calling it Strike Team Delta."

Clint raised an eyebrow at the name. Perhaps it did have a nice ring to it. But he wasn't about to let Phil know that. Instead he said, "Sounds way too serious and official. I think something a bit more cheerful would fit."

He spent the following ten minutes making up the most ridiculous codenames his imagination could conjure up and Phil could only roll his eyes as he let him ramble on.

Clint found Romanoff a little while later in her own personal quarters. She was sitting on the lowest cot of the steel bunk bed, busy with dismantling a Glock and cleaning the parts meticulously. She looked up from her work as she heard the archer in the doorway, leaning with crossed arms against the doorframe.

"Heard congratulations are in order," Clint casually said. He couldn't keep the wide smile from spreading across his face.

She only shrugged nonchalantly and flatly said, "I guess it is."

"What? You haven't seen me in a month and already lose your sense of humor?"

A pointed glare was all the response he received. Clint knew if this partnership was going to have any affect he would be in charge of most of the talking. Which was fine with him. If he kept pushing he would eventually get a response from her.

Challenge accepted.

He walked further into the room until he was by her cot. She tracked his every movement with a slight suspicion. "So I heard you wiped the floor with basically everyone during sparring sessions. You ready to start trying to wipe it with me?"

He made sure the challenge was clear in his voice while he kept a confident spark in his eyes. He hoped it would be enough for her to rise up to the dare. Romanoff eyed him for a long second and then she rose with a similar glint in her green eyes.

"Bring it on," she said.

His smirked at the answer and offered his hand to her. "You're on, agent Romanoff," he said, putting pressure on the word.

It earned him a wry smile from Natasha and she grabbed a firm hold on his extended hand and shook it. "Agent Barton."

None of them knew that this was the beginning of the strongest partnership SHIELD had ever seen. It was the beginning of Hawkeye and Black Widow. The beginning of the infamous Strike Team Delta.

And it all started with a different call.

THE END