This mission was finally over. It had been gruelling and everyone was exhausted. Then the press showed up.

They had made it to the entrance of Avengers Tower without being detected. But when they heard a camera flash, they gave a collective groan. Clint spoke up first.

"I'll deal with them. You guys go up."

Tony turned.

"You Barton?"

Clint rolled him eyes.

"Yes, me. Seriously, tin head. You guys need it."

"So, do you." Natasha spoke up.

"I'll be up in ten minutes."

They left Clint behind to deal with the press.

When the Avengers reached their floor, Natasha turned on the news. They saw Clint getting crowded by reporters.

Then Clint sighed and pulled out an arrow. He shot it into the air above him and it detonated. Every one fell silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please!" When Clint spoke, it was different, louder and more commanding.

"Now you have all come from far and wide to witness the spectacle that is The Avengers! But their greatness is beyond most people's comprehension. Only the strong can witness them after such an incredible battle as they have just fought. Fear not, you might still have what it takes! He who can draw my bow is most certainly strong enough to see The Avengers in person. So, step right up and try your luck!"

As Clint spoke, the crowd seemed to be drawn to him. Entangled in his words, people seemed to lose their judgment as, one by one, the reporters stepped up to try and draw his bow. It was eerily familiar. Everyone seemed to forget that Clint was Hawkeye, an Avenger, and they had witnessed him, no problem. And the cherry on top? No one could draw the bow.

"I'm sorry folks, but the bow has spoken. Until next time!" Clint shot a grappling hook arrow at the top of the tower, taking care to make it look easy. Then, he was pulled up.

When he walked into the living room, a minute or so later, the Avengers just stared at him.

"What?" He asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. That was incredible! Who knew you had such a way with words?" Tony asked.

"Actually, Tony, words and I have a sort of love-hate relationship."

"What do you mean?" The billionaire asked.

"You haven't figured it out yet? Oh man! And you call yourself a genius."

Clint sighed. Then proceeded to not explain himself. For once, even Tony got the hint and backed off.

"So, Clint, why couldn't any of those reporters so much as draw the bow." Steve asked, changing the subject.

"Draw weight. They must all be weak." Clint said almost proud.

"Draw weight?" Steve asked.

"It's the amount of force an archer has to use to draw the bow to its peak, right?" Natasha filled in.

Clint nodded, "My… instructor described it as the potential energy of the arrow, but your version works too. Anyway, most men can only draw 75lb max."

"And how much can you draw?" Steve asked.

Clint paused.

"Comfortably? 250lb."

They all stared at him.

"I'm going to go have a shower." Clint excused himself.

That night tossing in her bed, it finally struck Natasha. Why Clint's voice had sounded strangely familiar.

He sounded like a ringmaster.

So sorry for the delay. I was very busy in real life but I will try to update more frequently.

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