Issue 18 YEAR FOUR FEBRUARY 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.

It's 11 O'clock. Do You Know Where Your Children Are?

Well a trip to the mountains is always fun. Fresh air, beautiful scenery, former teammates gone weird, former villains born again. * I give up. Shape and Jolt wanna stay there, then I guess they're on their own. I got troubles of my own without chasing after disaffected Avenger wannabes.

* no idea what Clint is talking about? see WCA 115

Right now I figured I had probably better check in on Scooter and his wife. When I left them * they were hiding out in a safe house, but I had promised that I would help get to the bottom of who had been attacking them and maybe even how he had gotten his Variable powers. I called them but got the blasted machine. I left an appropriate message after the beep, although certainly not the message I was tempted to leave. Stupid Call Answer. ^(TM)

* in Hawkeye 16

Fine! I couldn't do that, so I would just have to do something else hero like I guess. Food sounded pretty heroic, at least to my growling gut, so I headed for the kitchen to grab a bite. I had barely gotten a pastrami and rye slapped together when I was called to the phone. I wiped some of the mustard off my chin as I answered.

"Hawkeye, here. What's up?"

"So, you do remember that we have a dinner date don't you, archer?"

"Uh, Gayle..." Oh crud, dinner, Gayle, interview, yeah, right. "Of course I remember about dinner. So where would you like to go?"

"Well, I do have a favourite place in Santa Monica. How do you feel about seafood?"

God, I hate seafood, but at least she didn't catch on that I had totally forgotten, again. "Sounds great, shall I meet you there?"

She agreed and gave me the address. I debated for a bit, then decided I might as well go in civvies. Wearing my costume in a public place was just asking for trouble and it wasn't like I really went overboard protecting my identity or anything. Seafood, eh? I looked longingly at my sandwich, then wrapped it up and stuck it in the fridge. I could always eat it when I got home. 'Sides I would grab one of those 'take it before you eat' antacids before I left, maybe that fishy stuff wouldn't upset my stomach too bad. I headed to my quarters, changed into a pair of dress pants and a shirt, struggled with a tie for a bit then just settled on a sport jacket. Hopefully that would be fancy enough.

As I headed out I spotted Tigra sitting mournfully at poolside. Before I left I figured it was time to dispense some of my leadership type moral boosting. "Greer? Why the long face? Swallow a hairball or something?"

"Very funny, Clint. Good thing your aim is better than your jokes." Ouch! "I'm just worried about Jolt. Kid's had a rough time and now she is with another team. Don't you think we should have made her an Avenger and gotten her to stay put? At least then we could have looked out for her."

"Yeah, well she doesn't seem to be too fussy about who she hangs out with, does she? Starting out your career with the Masters of Evil isn't exactly recommended in Super Heroing 101."

Tigra bristled. "That's not really fair, Hawk. She didn't know that the Thunderbolts were the Masters of Evil, anymore than you knew that the Black Widow was a Russian spy when you were with her, although you were older and should have figured it out." She had me there all right. "Besides, she helped us when the new Masters of Evil attacked us. * Why don't you give her a break? After all if the Avengers hadn't given you one you might have ended up in prison, you know."

* in WCA #105

* cough, cough * "Uhh, yeah, well, there were extenuating circumstances, ya know." Her frown told me she wasn't swallowing that one. "Look, I'm worried about the kid too, but with the Warriors she is with others her own age, and, face it, they don't exactly take on the real heavy weights like the Avengers do. Maybe heading off there has increased her life span. Don't worry about her, I'll be checking in from time to time to make sure she's okay."

She looked at me. "Make sure you do, Clint. Make sure you do. She wouldn't have run off if you had been a bit more sympathetic, you know." With that, she rose and walked towards the main building, her long tail twitching behind her.

Much as I found myself drawn to the tantalizing view of those swinging hips, I knew I had better get myself moving. Gayle would be waiting if I didn't get off my duff. As I headed out I wondered if Greer was right? Had I really been that tough on the kid? Had I forced her away from the compound? And was she just as mixed up as I had been when I first met up with Tasha? *

* way back in Tales of Suspense #57

Tasha..... man, I knew she was out on the west coast now, with the Champions. I'd heard through the supertights grapevine that they had just gotten back from some weird intergalactic adventure of some sort. * Boy, they sure had some strange members with them, including Cap's old sparring partner, Batroc. Oh well, if the Grimm Brothers could go straight then I suppose the quiche eater could too.

* check out Champions #32

It felt odd to have Tash as a member of another team, even though I knew she had been a Champion long ago. Besides we weren't Avenging together much, I was on the west coast and she was on the east most of the time. Funny, when she kicked my ass a while back and made me realize I couldn't drink my problems away * I kinda had a feeling we might start seeing each other again, but it didn't happen. Hey, Herc was with the Champs, so was Ant Man. She was likely hanging with one of them. Oh well, I had lost her many times before, this was no different. I grabbed the car keys and headed for the restaurant.

* see Hawkeye #6

I really hate sneaking around like this. No matter how many times I do this kind of stuff the stupid black leather outfit always gives me a rash, and in the damnedest places, too. Wonder if that Gold Bond Powder really works? I adjusted myself, again,and crept along the ventilation shaft. I could see the Tarantula in front of me. Now she looked great in black leather. I was admiring the view and wondering if I could get a closer look later when she came to an abrupt halt. I rammed right into her butt. I figured I already had a mouthful of ass, so I bit her playfully. I was sure glad I was wearing my cup cause she brought her foot up and clipped me between the legs. Her frown brought me back to business. We were here to do a job so we might as well get to it. The Avengers had assigned us to this mission and the faster we got it done the better I'd like it. She pointed downwards. We had a perfect view of the room below through a grate. There he was. We'd had reports about his activities, how he intended to put tighter controls on us, how he wanted to investigate and maybe even prosecute us. Hell, we were the Avengers, we didn't have to put up with this. We did what we wanted, else why would we even be bothered? No doubt about it, President Rogers had to die. Boy, do I love wetwork.

Ocean Drive, Santa Monica... Jaguars, Mercedes and Beemers, Rolex watches and cell phones, this was one of the Meccas of the yuppie crowd. I parked the Accura and headed into the restaurant Gayle had told me about. The Invaders Café, now what kind of name was that for a restaurant anyway? Sounded like it was run by some W.W.II super hero group. The Maitre D' was frowning at my sports coat when I spotted Gayle at one of the side tables. He looked annoyed as he directed me over to her. I guess he knew he wasn't getting a fat tip for consenting to seat me at a good table.

She raised an eyebrow as I sat down. She had never seen me in civvies before. "Hi Gayle, I figured I'd come out of uniform for a change. By the way, you can call me Clint." I hoped that if anyone overheard us they might just think I was a cop or something.

"Well, Clint, it's taken a bit but here we finally are. I've been hoping to have an intimate encounter with you for a long time."

Intimate? Well, she had sort of flirted with me a long time ago * and she certainly was attractive. I decided to go along. "Well, what say we have a drink and dinner first then see where that leads us." Hopefully, it might lead us back to her place for a while.

* back in Solo Avengers #13

She had already ordered a carafe of wine. The waiter handed me a menu and poured me a glass of the white. It wasn't bad, although I would have definitely preferred a beer. We went through the social niceties of ordering, and sipping and staring anywhere but at each other for a while.

Finally, after the appetizers had been served, she leaned forward, touched my hand and whispered. "You know, Clint, I've always been kind of attracted to you, but when we first met you were married and after, well, I guess I was too busy putting my career first." I wasn't sure where she was heading with this but it sounded good so far. Then she shifted directions on me. "Of course, I am a reporter, a very good reporter, and that's just something you'll have to be aware of."

Okay, now I got it. It was the 'get a big story by hitting the guy where he lives, in his crotch' ploy. "Sure, Gayle. What is it you are after anyway? The new team roster? An exclusive interview with the number one team leader around? Pictures of Tigra's sand box?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, stop that." For a minute I thought she was going to slap me. Actually, for a minute, I think she thought she was, too. "That's not exactly very politically correct, you know. If I had slept my way to all of the ground breaking stories I've had, I'd be too tired to ever report them. Now get your mind out of the gutter and back to business. Oh, for your information, a reporter from SCN will be at the compound to check out any possible announcement of your new roster, but it certainly won't be me. I don't do eleven o'clock fill ins any more. My reputation lets me pick and choose my own assignments, or follow my hunches wherever they lead me."

Time to pull my foot out of my mouth. I thought for a bit as the waiter served the main course. "Look, Gayle, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to insinuate that you uhhh... Well, what I mean to say is, I have tremendous admiration for the way you do your job. You've always been a straight shooter. Besides I really would like to get to know you better, in a non-professional way." Okay, Barton, that was your best shot. Hope she bought it.

"Well, when you put it that way..." She smiled. Man, she had a great smile. Then her face turned serious. "But, we do need to put first things first. I've been checking into a few things, using my SCN research sources. Someone is trying to do a job on your credibility, you know. As a reporter, that's news; as a friend, who would maybe like to be something more than a friend, that's trouble."

I raised my eyebrows in my best Mr. Spock imitation. "How illogical." Her blank look told me that I hadn't exactly pulled that off. "Okay, I'll bite. Ruin my credibility how?"

"Not just yours, although you do seem to be the main target. It's aimed at all of the super heroes. Do you remember reading an article by Megan McCambridge titled "Avengers West Coast return or is it really the Wrecking Crew?". I know I sent you a copy."

So that's where that had come from. * I nodded. "Yeah, so? It was just from some crappy gossip rag. I didn't pay any attention to it."

* way back in Hawkeye #11

She gave me a sort of condescending look. "Well, you should have, Clint. That was just the start of the anti-spandex press and it's getting worse. Of course, Megan has a grudge against you, so that's understandable, but it goes deeper than that."

Huh? "Gayle, I had never heard of her before you sent me that clipping. How could she have a grudge against me?"

"You really are blind to things aren't you?" I was what? "Look, do you remember the fight you had at the West Coast compound with Goliath?" *

* in the classic AWC #92

"Do I ever!" Man, that hurt to even think about. I was bruised and limping for at least a week. "What does that have to do with her?"

"I guess you were so busy recovering that you didn't read any of the follow-up stories. Megan was the one who bribed a guard to let her in to interview Josten while he was in jail. Something she said set him off and that's why he broke out and went after Wonder Man, although he ended up with you instead. She was charged in criminal court, you know. They let her off, extenuating circumstances, but she lost her job, and her credibility in the business was ruined. She's been trying to find work as a real journalist ever since. The Hollywood Grapevine is about as low as you can get and still be considered a reporter. For some reason she seems to blame it all on you."

"Me? Me?" Women, who could ever understand their motives? Not me, that's for sure. "But I was the victim there. I got the ever lovin' crap beaten out of me. If it hadn't been for Mock he would've likely killed me."

Gayle shrugged. "Don't ask me, Clint. I agree with you, but she has it in for you and that's all there is to it. Besides, as I said before, it goes deeper than just a grudge Megan has against you. The Grapevine was bought out by a consortium of some sort. Same group has been buying up other small newspapers and radio and TV stations all over the country, and now every one of them seems to be down on the super hero community."

Man, if it wasn't super baddies then it was reporters. We talked about it for a while over dessert but Gayle didn't really have much more information. She ordered brandy after dinner. I had never really tried it before, my tastes are a bit more pedestrian, but I liked it. I paid the tab before she had a chance to whip out her platinum AMEX card. Then we headed out.

I hadn't really had more than a couple of drinks over several hours, so I offered to drive her home. She agreed. We got to her place and she invited me in for coffee. We were just starting to cuddle up close on the couch when my blasted cell phone rang. Of all the rotten timing, but it was Variable, and there was trouble. He'd gotten my message and was going to call when he started hearing noises around the house. Zamura's cop guards didn't seem to be around, of course they were supposed to be inconspicuous, but still... Now Scott had seen a couple of strangely dressed guys skulking around and was getting worried. He wasn't sure he could protect his very pregnant wife and didn't know who else to call. I told him I'd be right there.

When I turned the phone off I noticed that Gayle had her blouse rebuttoned and had gotten my duffel bag out of the car and was handing it to me. "Here, I figured it'd be easier for you to change into the purple in my bathroom than in some alley somewhere." Well, she had that right although it wasn't quite how or why I had planned on undressing in her apartment.

She kissed me good-bye and her touch seemed to promise a rematch. I tossed my civvies in the back seat and took off for Scooter's. It felt a bit strange to be heading off to battle in a car instead of a skycycle or a quinjet but what the heck, the Avengers had taken on Korvac after arriving by bus * so odd transportation wasn't that unusual for me I guess. I could already feel the adrenaline pumping.

* in the unforgettable Avengers #176

Boy, do I love this work.

Monitor duty sucks! I was a hero, a freaking hero! I should have been fighting bad guys, or training, or giving some swooning young lady the thrill of her lifetime, but noooooo. I was sitting in front of a bank of security monitors outside the training room while Cap and that idiot, show-off Swordsman were going through their paces. Swordie sucked. His timing was off, he telegraphed all of his moves and Cap was making mincemeat out of him. I put my feet up on the console, leaned back, relaxed and took a deep drag off my cigarette. I felt the smoke swirl in the back of my throat, man, that was good. Maybe next time the old war-horse stuck me with electronic baby-sitting I'd bring a few of my doctored smokes with me. Nothing like a little buzz to make dull duty go faster. I took a drink of coffee and ran my eyes over the monitors. "Oh man, oh man, oh man!!! Incoming!" I hit the alarm button, jumped up, spilling coffee all over, and dove for my bow and quiver. "Heads up, people, we got troubles!" He was in the entrance hall. Big, green, ugly and naked as the day he was... born? created? hatched? Who knew? All I knew was - he was ugly as hell, disgusting and going down, now. I tried a blast arrow but no dice. He batted it away like I'd swipe at an annoying mosquito. I nocked an electro net shaft and bellowed out my challenge. "Man, when a big, green, naked guy bursts into my living room I take him down!" I let the arrow loose. It was a perfect shot, the shaft hit him right in the neck, the electro net released and entangled his entire upper body, the charge made the beast bellow in pain and rage. Lovely, just lovely. I was moving in, with a bolo arrow ready, figuring I'd tie up his legs and it would be all over except for basking in the adoration of my fellow Avengers when he ripped the net from his head and tossed it to the side, screaming his fury. Oh, this did not look good. I was way outclassed here, but I couldn't back down, Cap and Swordie had just rushed into the room. I nocked the arrow, the behemoth flicked one finger.... God, that hurt! I felt my head snap backwards, my neck felt busted, so did my jaw. I flew through the air and crashed into the wall. As the plaster shattered and rained down on me I slumped to the ground, hurting badly, unable to move. As the blackness swallowed me I knew I'd failed, again.

I parked the car about a block from the safe house where Stark and I had hidden Variable and Sarah, his wife. Tony had property all over the place; this was a small bungalow in northern Beverly Hills, just on the edge of Hollywood. It wasn't a real rich part of town, but it was definitely upper middle class. I figured I'd sneak up, scout the area a bit, see if I could spot any thugs hanging about, or maybe even the cops who were supposed to be on duty.

Nothing, it was just a typical suburban evening. It was about eleven thirty, most of the lights were already out, or else the windows showed the flickering of television sets as the local citizens watched the news before retiring to bed. No doubt the kids' lunches were already packed, the clothes neatly laid out for the next day, one or two of the couples were perhaps indulging in their weekly lovemaking, so they would be finished in time to sleep well and still get up in time for a hearty breakfast before work. Somewhere a dog woofed, a garbage can lid rattled, a screen door slammed. Everything seemed pretty normal, if this was your version of a normal lifestyle, of course. For me it all seemed just a bit surreal but I suppose that protecting this type of existence was what Avengering was all about.

I kept to the shadows as I headed up to the house and knocked. A flicker of light at the peep hole told me that Scooter was still being cautious, just like I had told him to be. The door opened and I went in.

He was dressed in his costume and Sarah was sitting nervously on the couch. I'm certainly no expert on pregnant women but she seemed to be carrying a lot lower than she had been a few days ago when I had last seen her. I asked if she was okay and she assured me she was fine. When I had called earlier they had been at the obstetrician's for her weekly check-up. The doctor had said everything was going well, and she wouldn't likely deliver for another couple of weeks. Good, cause I didn't need any more trouble.

"Okay, Variable, what power do you have this time? Or if we get into a mix-up will it be a surprise?"

He grinned. "Last time I tried them out I had invisibility. Think that might come in handy?" I nodded and he told Sarah to go downstairs, figuring if we did find anyone she might be safer down there in the recreation room. We locked all the doors and windows behind us as we headed outside. I told him to use his invisibility and scout around and see if he could locate the cops. I decided to check a few of the parked cars and see if anyone was around.

Not much was up; I interrupted a pair of teenagers in a state of semi-undress in the back seat of a Neon. I could hear the guy cursing at me as I headed farther down the street. I almost jumped out of my skin when a hand touched me and no one was there.

"Hawk, it's me, Variable." I decided to start breathing again. He really had to be more careful about that. "I found the policemen. Someone clubbed them and they were tied up in the backyard near the tool shed. One of them looks like he's in pretty bad shape."

For a second I wondered if we should call in some help, but I promised the kid I'd be the one to help him so I decided not to, at least until I saw how bad the cop was really hurt. "Okay, let's go back to your place and get them inside and see what we can do for them. Keep your eyes open." No answer. "Hey kid, lets go."

A rather sheepish voice admitted, "Uhh sorry, Hawk. I nodded, but I forgot, you can't see me. Maybe I should try for another power?"

As I started back down the street I said, "Yeah, that might be a thought. You can change as often as you want, right? In case you come up with some lame-oh power?"

He flickered back into view. "Nope, once I switch I am stuck with whatever I get for at least thirty minutes."

Terrific. "Okay, so what did you get this time?"

He shrugged, "Damned if I know, but at least it isn't something stupid like glowing in the dark. Got that one once."

Oh brother, what had I gotten myself into? I heard a tiny voice in my head that seemed to whisper 'What a grouch'. I spoke aloud, "Don't look now, Variable, but I think you got telepathy." He blushed under his mask. "Well, lets just hope nothing happens in the next half an hour, then you can try for something real."

Nice sentiment, but it didn't work. We had just gotten back to the house when I spotted the shadow of what looked a lot like a couple of nocturnal beekeepers. A.I.M.! Man, hadn't I had just about enough of those guys? * I motioned for the kid to keep real quiet but it was already too late. They targeted us and opened fire.

* in Scott Chamberlain's Hawkeye #7-9

We both hit the dirt right in the middle of the front garden. Hunks of the well manicured lawn flew around us in divots bigger than any I had ever made on a golf course the few times I had been suckered into playing a round. I shoved Variable left and I rolled right, nocking a gas arrow and letting it fly. Too late I realized that they had already broken a basement window. The gas fumes were taking these two goons out but they were also drifting into the recreation room where Sarah was.

I was thinking that one of us had better see to her when I heard a voice in the back of my head. 'Gotcha, Hawk.' Variable took off for the house. Hmmm, maybe this telepathy thing was useful after all. At least we could keep in touch with each other. I had already spotted some more of the yellow uniforms of A.I.M. heading for us so I figured I'd run the range of blast, sonic and gas arrows, the old stand-bys. Maybe if I caused enough confusion some well meaning suburbanite would call the cops. There seemed to be about twenty of them, which certainly meant that Scooter and I were seriously outnumbered.

They started to scatter around, hiding behind Audis and garden swings, their energy blasts were all around me, but none of them had hit me.... yet. Things were definitely heating up though. I looked around for a place to get a bit of height advantage. Damned one story buildings. I saw what looked like a tree-house in an old maple and thought maybe the platform in front of it might help. I fired a cable arrow. When it hit I activated the pulley and was swept up to the treetop.

This was way better. Now I could pick them off pretty much at my leisure. I nailed three of them who were getting a little too close to the house then I heard one of the most welcome sounds I had ever heard, the wail of police sirens. As the A.I.M. guys started to scatter I was able to pretty much bunch them up and the cops took over roping them in.

I slid down from the tree and headed to the house to see how the kids were doing. That's when the next emergency hit. Sarah was in labor and Scott was white as a ghost. For a minute I thought he was gonna faint. Well, this was more than I bargained for but I grabbed him and shoved him towards the bedroom. "For heaven's sake, go get out of that costume. If you ever hope to have a private life you don't want to show up in a delivery room in a union suit." He hesitated, a bit panic stricken. Thankfully Sarah still had her wits about her and urged him to go.

I knelt beside her, She clutched at my hand. "I'm so sorry, Hawkeye. It was the excitement I guess. My water broke and I ahhhh..." She gripped my fingers as a contraction rippled through her. I thought she was gonna break them.

I patted her gently and whispered what I hoped were the appropriate platitudes but frankly, I was scared shitless myself. What if an ambulance didn't arrive in time? One of the cops had come in then left to call for one but if they were late... was I gonna have to try to deliver this kid? I mean, earlier I had some plans for being on intimate terms with a lady tonight but this certainly wasn't what I had in mind.

Scott came back into the room. I could hear more sirens in the distance so I just swept her up into my arms and carried her outside, him right at my heels. Thankfully, it was the paramedics and they took over. I just tried to fade into the background before I fainted.

Watch for a cameo appearance of the Variable in WCA #116, and meet me back here next month for more of the battling bowman's adventures.

Lonni Holland
November 29 1999

lonni@paratime.ca