Issue 11 YEAR THREE JULY Author: Lonni Holland

HAWKEYE Armed with a high-tech arsenal and the surpassing skill to use it, Clint Barton dons the familiar purple costume and fires justice from his bow.

Something Old, Something in the News...

I said my good-byes to Swordsman and Magdeline early today. Odd, cause I really figured that, with Phillip wanting to try to see if he and I could be pals, like he had been with the Clint Barton in his world, he'd want to stick around. * They're gonna hang around and split tomorrow morning in one of the Quinjets. I caught up to the Variable before he bolted too and made him promise to keep in touch with me. He had freaky powers but I thought he had the chance to have been really something. I don't know what spooked him, but I wanted him back. Man, the team sure isn't shaping up quite the way I expected but I suppose it could have been worse. After all we did meet up with Cannonball and it'd be nice to have another heavy hitter around. I'll just have to turn on the old irresistible Barton charm I guess.

* see West Coast Avengers 107 & the Proctor saga in Avengers

I had organized an office for myself on the main floor and figured I'd spend an hour going over a few things before I met with Sam and the others. * The compound took a beating at the hands of the Masters of Evil and I had a lot of replacement parts I needed to requisition. I was punching things up in the computer when I suddenly looked down at my hands and realized I was becoming a pretty good typist. Yikes! When had that happened? I was a hero not a secretary, wasn't I? As I looked at the seemingly endless reports I was going to have to fill out for the Maria Stark Foundation trustees I was starting to wonder.

* coming next month in WCA 108

Bah, tomorrow would do. I had a new member to recruit so I figured I'd just flip through the other stuff in my in basket instead, then head off to spread out the welcome mat. Looked like the media had got the word that the Whackos were back in business cause I had a whole stack of interview requests One name rang a bell so I called the number.

"SCN, the network home of the Marvels. How may I direct your call?"

"Gayle Rogers, please. Tell her it's Hawkeye calling, of the West Coast Avengers."

"One moment Mr. Avenger, err.... I mean Mr. Hawkeye."

A couple of moments of Barry Manilow music later...

"Rogers, here. What can I do for you?"

"Gayle, it's Hawkeye. I got your message and figured I'd give you a call, for old times sake. How are you anyway?" Damned if I knew why I had called her. Last time we met Bobbi and I were separated. * Gayle had interviewed me and when she left I could have sworn she was flirting with me, but then, who knows with women? Lord knows, I wasn't looking to put the make on her, at least I didn't think I was.

* it happened in Solo Avengers 13

"Hawkeye! I was hoping you'd call me. I'm just settling in with SCN and we are the superhero channel, of course. You know we never did finish that interview, so I figure you must owe me an exclusive on the new team. How about it? Help me get started in my new job with a bang?"

Not sure I was quite ready to let out too much more info since I had already thought I had a semi stable lineup once, but I was wrong. No sense in making a fool of myself and the Avengers, too. But how to phrase it was the problem. "Well, Gayle, I'm just not ready to make an official statement just yet. How abut a raincheck?" Oh, that was inspiring, Barton. Sounded like you read it right out of the Avengers Chairman's handbook, chapter 3: how to brush off the media and sound like a dork.

She laughed. "Have you considered politics, Hawk? That sounded a lot like a 'no comment ' to me. How about buying me dinner and we'll call it even, for now anyway."

"Uh, sure, Gayle." Dinner? Damn, was she going to pump me for information or was I getting in over my head again? Stall her! "Look, I'm going to be pretty busy over the next few days, how about I call you the beginning of the week and we'll set something up?"

"It's a date, but if I don't hear from you by Monday night I'll be calling you Tuesday. Toodles, Hawkeye."

Okay, that went well, didn't it? Maybe I'd better not give up my day job. I kept digging through the papers that had mounted up, wondering what on earth Tony Stark ever saw in the life of a big businessman. Let's see, fan mail (keep that to read later), hate mail (keep that just in case any of it poses a real threat), bills (damned Visa card - I gotta learn to leave that sucker at home), a notice of noise violation from the local authorities (right... like we're supposed to be quiet fighting the MOE). I was nearing the bottom of the pile when I found a clipping from a local gossip magazine, with an article circled in red. Bet Jack had put it there, just to bug me.

West Coast Avengers Return or is it Really the Wrecking Crew? by Megan McCambridge Spandex groupies were delighted by the news that the Avengers have reestablished their west coast operations once again, but this reporter wonders if it is really cause for celebration. Research shows that super villains were rarely seen on the west coast before the Avengers first decided to transplant some of their lesser lights to California and house them in an exorbitantly ostentatious estate that belonged to a former silent film star. One has to wonder if the purported heroes, while living in luxury, have any conception of the effects of their presence on the common man, or has this pampered life style so far detached them from reality that they no longer care, as long as their pictures are in the papers on a regular basis. Property damage in the Los Angeles area ran into the millions of dollars the last time the Avengers were housed here. Personal injuries and psychological trauma were commonplace. Lawsuits filed against the Maria Stark Foundation, backers of this august collection of vigilantes disguised as champions of justice, were normally settled out of court for undisclosed, but, no doubt, high amounts of money. One has to question the motives of a group so willing to buy off the public in exchange for their silence.

It went on and on, but that pretty much set the tone for the rest of the article. Pampered lifestyle indeed. Sure the Mansion and the compound were luxurious but that certainly wasn't why any of us were in this biz. Hell, I had gone on my own, * as had lots of others, and we sure didn't shed our tights just because no one was footing the bill for fancy digs. And the Stark Foundation certainly wasn't buying off the public, they voluntarily assisted civilians caught up in super hero battles. This McCambridge's name sounded familiar too, but I couldn't place it. I grabbed at the phone to call and scream at them and nearly jumped out of my skin when it rang just as I touched it.

* in Avengers 109

"Wha??"

"Hey, bowman, what do you say?"

"We could sure use your help today."

Oh no, not them again. "Okay, Grimm bro's, what do you want now? I already told you I was letting you go, * and how did you get this number anyway? It's supposed to be private."

* last issue

"We know, we know, you let us go, and that was really great."

"And now you did we have decided, we're going to go straight."

Just what I needed, more surprises. Well, I guess I owed it to them to try to help out. After all, I had started on the wrong side of the law myself, although mostly through stupidity and a high testosterone level than anything else, * but if the Avengers hadn't given me a shot at redeeming myself when I asked who knows where I woulda ended up. So, now I seemed to have adopted one reluctant hero in Variable, a kid-sized Avenger wannabe in Jolt and a pair of scared would be do-gooders in the Brothers Grimm. I was starting to feel like a branch of the Salvation Army.

* back in Tales of Suspense 57

"Look, how about one of you does all the talking, okay? This rhyming thing is getting to me. So, what do you want me to do? And you still didn't tell me how you got this number."

"Well, to answer the last first, we got it from Information, and the first last, we were hoping you'd help us find a legitimate job somewhere."

"A job???? Come on guys, I'm an Avenger, not an employment consultant. Didn't you do anything before you put on the zoot suits?"

"I don't think Fresno would welcome us back as realtors. We aren't really sure where to turn now, if you can't help us."

Oh great, put me on the spot and make me feel guilty. We talked a few more minutes then they both got going and started with the bad poetry again. A few minutes of that and I wasn't sure if I was coming or going. I told them I'd work on it and call them and to stop using the private line. Had to remember to get that changed... and unlisted.

Between that call, paperwork, and trashy press reports I could feel a headache starting right behind my eyes. This wasn't why I got into this game in the first place. I rubbed at my forehead a bit then downed a couple of Tylenol. I had a hot shot mutant to impress and I was gonna be at my best to do it. I stood up, plastered my most charming grin on my face and headed out to see the team, but I was bloody well gonna get out of here for a few hours later, just to get myself back in focus.

* see Assault on Castle Kang in Avengers 143-144

* it happened in Avengers 223

I parked just outside the grounds and wandered in. Funny, after living in New York for so many years I never really feel comfortable driving anymore, at least not cars, but in LA most of the residents would rather die than be carless so it's one of those 'when in Rome' things I guess. I started to wander the grounds and, just like last time, it all came back to me... the sights, the sounds, the smells, like I had never really left. I must have spent about an hour just strolling around, taking it all in, the call of the barkers, the noise of the midway, the gaudiness of the sideshows. Finally I headed off to find the owner's trailer.

At least this time there weren't a couple of Taskmaster's goons there waiting to toss me around. I knocked at the door and Marcy opened it. Damn, she was still beautiful. She had been a little kid when I knew her before but she had certainly grown up... and out. I tried to keep my eyes on her face but she noticed when my gaze kinda drifted south.

I sort of stammered a bit before blurting out, "Hi, Marcy, great to get a chance to see more of you, uhhh, that is..." Oh good, Barton, open your mouth wider, maybe you can get both feet in there. Blast, worst thing about being blonde is that you tend to blush. I could already feel my neck starting to heat up as Marcy laughed.

"Relax, Clint, I know what you mean. I was hoping to see more of you too." I wasn't sure how I was supposed to take that but she kept talking. "When I heard you were back out here I thought I'd look you up when we hit the area. I'm planning on running the show up the west coast this season. Figured you might like to come on over and relive a bit of the past." *

* see Tales to Astonish 103 & 104 for details of how Hawkeye grew up at the carnival

Well, maybe not all of the past, but it still sounded like fun and that was the idea, to get away from the compound and relax for a while so I agreed quickly and away we went. The day was a total blast. We did the tourist bit and played the midway games, and saw the sideshows. We rode rides until I was breathless and ate hot dogs and cotton candy and laughed and giggled and talked about the old days.

During the big show I brought up the subject of the Grimms. I tried to sell her on how much they'd beef up the program. She didn't sound real convinced but said she'd give them a try anyway. Well, that was one thing off my shoulders, at least sort of. I leaned back and relaxed and she rested against my shoulder as we took in the rest of the acts.

After the show was over, and everyone had said their good nights, I went back to Marcy's trailer with her. She wanted me to come in for a drink and I figured one beer wouldn't hurt, even though I was driving back to the compound later. She only had one chair so I sat down on the end of her bed and she handed me a cold one and poured a shot of whiskey for herself. We chatted about this and that for a while but I gradually became aware that she was edging closer to me and I pulled back a little.

She didn't seem to notice and carried on talking. I suppose I wasn't paying to much attention for a minute or two as I tried to figure out if I was reading things into her actions that weren't really there, but then something she said got my attention pretty fast.

"So, Clint, I had heard that you had gotten married. Where's your wife these days? I noticed she certainly isn't with you today."

Okay, I could talk about this, I knew I could. "Mockingbird was killed a while back, Marcy. I'm a widower now." That wasn't that hard, but I hoped she'd carry the conversation for a few minutes until I was sure my voice was going to stay steady.

"Clint, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. On the road we rarely get a chance to keep up with the news." She hugged me and I hugged her back. It felt nice and, oddly, I didn't really feel like I was going to break into tears like I used to when I thought about Bobbi. I missed her of course, but I was learning to live with it, not having to pretend it didn't happen anymore.

She changed the subject and we talked a bit more about getting the Brothers Grimm integrated into the show. It was a risk of course. They said they wanted to go straight but with those guys who knew. Of course, fear can be a great motivator, and they had sure been scared.. At least with the show staying on the west coast like Marcy had told me they planned to I'd be able to check in on them occasionally and make sure they weren't causing any trouble.

Marcy offered me another beer and I took it, but I was getting tired and was starting to dread the thought of driving home. I figured I'd better either get a cab or stay put so I asked, "Marcy, any chance you got an empty trailer around. I shouldn't be drinking and driving. Got an image to maintain you know."

She smiled, slid closer and whispered, "Well, you could just stay here you know."

Oh Lord, had she thought I was propositioning her? I stammered a bit and started to get up.

"Clint, what's wrong?" She frowned a bit. "Oh, I get it. You're too moral for that now that you're an Avenger are you? Funny, you didn't used to be like that. I remember seeing you sneak girls back to your trailer, lots of times. You too good for us now, Barton?"

"Uhhh, Marcy, it's not that, it's just...." I guess I had changed, too many years around Captain America had rubbed off on me I suppose. But Marcy was right, things were different at the carnie. We had moved around so much that a casual affair was nothing to us there. And I was sure fast enough to fall into Natsha's arms, and her bed, as soon as I met her. * Had things gotten that much different now?

* Natasha is the Black Widow who seduced Hawkeye into working with her back in Tales of Suspense 57

"Just what? I saw that disapproving look. Damn it, Hawk, I'm not a tramp you know. Some day I expect I'll fall in love and get married and have babies, but right now... I'm a normal healthy woman, with normal, healthy desires. So who can I be with? No one from here, I'm the boss, it wouldn't be right. And sex with a rube? I don't think so. Sure there have been a few I've dated but one of them actually had the gall to offer me money, if you can imagine. He left with a black eye and he's lucky that's all I punched."

I didn't know what to say. She was right, but it just felt so odd. When I had left the carney Marcy had been fourteen, I guess I couldn't get that tomboy kid out of my mind. She slid closer. I could smell the whiskey hanging sweetly on her breath and as she pressed up against me I knew she sure wasn't fourteen anymore. She whispered, "What's wrong, Clint? Don't you want me?"

Want her! Lord, I wanted her so bad it hurt! She had crawled into my lap now and was kissing my face. "Marcy, I..." She snuggled closer and slipped her hands under my shirt. I found my own hands slipping under hers. Forgive me, Bobbi. I love you, but she is so close, and you are so far away, and I guess it really is time to move on.

Two Gun tore it open only to see 'If you need me, use this - Hawkeye'.

I couldn't quite place where I was, or even when I was. Had it all been a dream, was I still Hawkeye, the World's Greatest Marksman, performing in buckskins for the rubes? My body started to kick in and I shifted in the bed. Then I felt the touch of a bare leg against mine and I remembered everything. I opened my eyes cautiously and saw Marcy stretched out beside me, staring, and smiling. I opened my mouth, not sure what was gonna come out but she put her finger to my lips.

"Clint Barton, you've got that 'morning after' guilty look in your eyes. If you start apologizing for what I thought was a perfect ending to an enjoyable day then you'll never get the chance to bed another woman because I will personally castrate you." She leaned towards me and kissed me hungrily. I closed my eyes as I returned her kiss and when I did I could see Bobbi looking at me, and she was smiling, like she approved. Okay, so I guess I wasn't really sorry, and it looked like we were going to be late for breakfast.

"So, Barton, had a nice little holiday did you? Of course the rest of us had to hold down the fort for you. Must be nice to be head honcho so you can wander off when you like."

"Jack, first off, I think we should all have scheduled down time, get away, live lives a bit, makes us sharper than sitting around here waiting for the next disaster. Second, yeah, I had a nice little holiday, thanks for asking."

We went into the office and he stared at me for a minute then a big grin spread across his ugly puss. "God damn it, Barton. You got lucky, didn't you? I know that self satisfied look."

Oh brother, was I wearing a sign or something? Again, I silently cursed being blonde as I felt my face flushing and was about to stammer a negative response when my alpha male kicked in. "Damn straight I did. What, didn't you think the old man had it in him?" Geez, where had that come from? Well, I'd said it, I was gonna have to stick to it. "What's wrong, Jack, you jealous or something? Or don't you approve?"

He frowned for a moment. Hmmm, maybe he didn't approve. Well, it wasn't any of his business anyway, and besides, he had brought it up. "No, it's not really that, Clint. Anyway, we really need to talk about..."

The door of the office burst open and Shape bounded in. I don't think this guy ever just walks, he always seems to be bouncing or something. "Shape have letter for Hawkman. Federal Express man bring it."

"HawkEYE, Shape, it's HawkEYE. Okay, gimme the letter."

"Here Hawkman. Shape do good?"

"Yeah, real good Shape, thanks, now let me see what's so important okay?"

I flipped it open.

Clint, urgent you meet me near the Painted Rock, August 18, 1878. Our fate is in your hands.

Two Gun

Oh Lord, what now?

My thanks for all the super things so many people have said about my first shot at this in last month's Hawkeye 10. I was a bit nervous about it but now I am having such a blast that you may be stuck with me here for a long, long time. A special thanks to Mark Bousquet. We are trying to work VERY closely together with this and AWC so that the transition between the books will be as smooth and logical as possible. Which means I get to preview all of his West Coast stuff, and have you guys got a treat coming up there! I have also shameleesly stolen his Shape/Hawkeye interaction... but it's so perfect!

This issue sort of wraps around AWC 108 and next time - it's the past as Hawk heads for Arizona and a situation that could have present ramifications.

Lonni Holland Feb. 10, 1999 lonni@paratime.ca