Clint Barton never missed. So the fact that Parker only rushed out of the building with a small graze on her cheek spoke a thousand words.

Parker was working only on pure adrenaline and confusion. The only two concrete thoughts that she could cling hold to were as followed; one, she definitely didn't have the right number and two, she was now in a pursuit. And she did not like it.

She had slid down the stairs after misjudging the gap between hard book and hard floor but she didn't allow herself to stop. Bruises are a lot better than the potential alternative.

Parker Miller had never been pursued before and the second she burst out into the street - her body carrying her further than she expected so she slammed into the wall - she prayed she would never be in a chase again.

She didn't even have time to think about her situation, this wasn't real life. Events like these don't really happen in real life. But here she was; with a flesh wound.

"Shit shit shit shit." The girl muttered as she frantically looked around her. The street was deserted except for a cat that paraded itself along the rooftops. She hoped it wasn't black.

Before Parker could remind her feet to run an arrow sailed past her, slicing another layer of skin and this time taking some of her frizzy hair in the process. She screamed out of shock and pushed herself off the wall, she ran with no particular destination in mind, the only general place being 'not here'.

The arrow in question had lodged itself in the dirt road next to a dead beetle. Parker chose not to contemplate long on if the blood on the tip was hers as she began to pull the shaft. If anyone was to see her now her limited Bengali wouldn't even begin to explain the situation, on the other hand, she couldn't explain in English either.

Clint smiled to himself as she tried to pull the arrow out. At first she overestimated her own strength and her hand slid up the arrow feebly and she sliced her hand on the feather. Parker swore to the Lord and tried again, this time using too much strength so she stumbled backwards when the arrow was freed.

In this little moment of adrenaline she smiled broadly at her achievement, momentarily forgetting her predicament. Clint however wouldn't let her forget as he began to run down the stairs ignoring the

Parker's smile quickly turned back to what seemed like her permanent expression of shock. Two men came around the corner and at first she was happy that if she was to die from an arrow in her back that there would be witnesses. The she saw the look on their faces and she took the Lord's name in vain.

Parker Miller didn't want to trust her gut instinct which was to flee in the general direction of the person with a lethal weapon. But then again she didn't really want to go in either way.

She turned on her heels, the sound of the dry sand floor beneath her offering no comfort and she ran. Away from the civilisation of the busy street and further into the slums of Calcutta. In hindsight Parker Miller would kick herself.

The building Agent Barton was in just so happened to have its exit straight onto her route. The force of the universe was also forced an incredible stroke of timing.

Parker Miller and Clint Barton crashed into each other with such force that it felt like both had slammed into a brick wall.

Parkers excuse was her own blind panic and Clint's alibi simply that sometimes he allowed himself to get too cocky.

The universe also seemed to like pain; Parker accidentally stuck the arrow in her hand into Clint's stomach. It was the wrong day for him to not wear any armour.

Both of them let out noises; Parker's was a high gasp of shock and Clint's a soft groan of pain and.

They both locked eyes and in that second the only thought she had was how green his eyes were.

"I believe you just stabbed me." Clint retorted. Haste wasn't a feeling at the moment, it was the fact that this girl was in love with Bruce Banner. The more he looked at her, the more he began to believe it. Which was worse because he had no choice over his orders.

"Actually I was just giving back your arrow." Parker's urgency returned as she watched his eyes narrow.

She implemented her favourite self defence move - the kick to the groin - and ran again. It would have been a lot better if she actually stuck to being on the track team in High School.

"Son-of-a-gun!" The Agent bent over slightly in pain. This was the one time he wished he could be Tony Stark and wear an iron suit to protect his pride.

Pride in general however was made retrievable as he heard the two men laugh sinisterly from his left. He shot them both down in the leg before that had even seen he had a bow.

A small part of him wished he could do more, they looked despicable, the intent for was Parker clear on their faces but his mission involved minimal civilian damage. To SHIELD, Parker didn't count as a civilian anymore; she was a liability.

Clint pulled the arrow out of his stomach as it hadn't sunk deep, half of the arrow head was still visible. The Agent managed to ignore it but still ran with a hand loosely covering the wound.

Parker heard the two men from behind and decided she didn't even want to think about it so and she continued further into the labyrinth that was the suburbs of Calcutta.

After several turns her breath seemed to always escape her lungs too soon and she glanced a look back. She could barely see beyond the mess of her blonde hair, some was beginning to stick with sweat to the back of her neck yet the majority was frizzy like always.

She wouldn't need to worry about it much longer as an arrow sliced the air around her cutting three inches of curls in the process. Parker swore but she couldn't dwell on it for long as she jumped over the next obstacle in front of her.

More people had begun to fill the streets now and she weaved past them. The adrenaline in her veins made her violently grab people to force them out of her way. It wasn't normal behaviour for her, she thought it must be like thus in a do-or-die situation m. Or maybe it's what they always seemed to do in films and TV shows. Either way she did it and suddenly she became the target of various cuss words herself.

Clint didn't have the women's problem, his heavy steps across the alleyway had the magical effect of parting people like Moses. The bow and arrow might have also helped along with the blood on his hands.

Parker changed direction again. Her footsteps were light on the ground but to her they seemed to echo against every surface and person that she hit. Her usual non-violent nature was thrown out the window like the people who stood in her way.

"Sorry, sorry. Excuse me. Shit sorry!" Parker muttered to everyone and everything. The chase although it seemed to consume her didn't seem to affect the mass crowd. The inquisitive ones followed the two figures but others continued with their day.

After a couple of turns she risked a look back and couldn't see her attacker. She slid into a small room just off the street and stood as still as she possibly could. This however, couldn't calm any of her thoughts that hammered against her brain. One kept on coming to the forefront;

What in actual hell is going on here?

Parker didn't know what to do, her thoughts moved onto her next move and that only resulted in a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Could she stay in Calcutta when she had just been ambushed? But more importantly could she leave without Bruce?

Things like this didn't happen to girls like her, the superhero shenanigans were fiction or some scene she would see on the TV. Yet here she was living the nightmare.

Parker Miller used to preoccupy all her thoughts with alternate realities and dreams of different lives but she left it all behind when she moved to India. Her life here wasn't perfect but it had been the closest she had ever gotten. Up until today of course.

Parker pulled out her phone in one last ditch attempt - one last try before she runs. She had decided that running was her only option. She decided to run back to the order of America, to never see the crowded streets and mayhem of Calcutta again. That was a thought that didn't excite her but she needed to be safe. Then again she didn't really fully understand that New York City was probably even further away from being safe then here.

She phoned Bruce's number and waited for it to go to voicemail. She said her words and then she smashed the brick phone on the floor turning into a thousand little pieces.

--

Clint Barton resorted back to his radio when he admitted Parker's blonde hair had truly vanished in the crowd.

"Agent Barton." The voice of Natasha Romanoff was heavy in his ear.

"Yes Nat?" Barton smiled despite his predicament. It helps to at least try and fool yourself into positivity.

"You don't know how to follow orders do you?"

"Well you don't exactly have the authority to give me orders. I see this more as a favour." He spoke aloud and a few of the crowd gave him questioning looks, he began to move back into the dark streets he came from.

"A favour you couldn't complete."

"It's called a work in progress."

"Just get the girl Clint, before Fury has the same idea." Natasha's voice sounded desperate and sleep deprived. Clint could tell and he softened his own tone slightly.

"I will but are you ever going to tell me why she is so important?"

Natasha took a while to respond, "It's for a friend,"

Clint laughed under his breath and was painfully reminded of his injury he still had his hand pressed to. He would have to sort that out soon.

"And Clint, I want her alive. Promise me."

The avenger promised and switched himself off. Calcutta was a large city, millions of inhabitants all forced to share the same air but it wasn't as big for a blonde American. She stuck out like a sore thumb but Clint was painfully reminded that the same rule applied to him. He had to be quick or else that 'friend' might be lost to his alter ego.