"and that was the thing about her, she kept on surviving. with bullet holes in her lungs, and knife marks itched in her back. she never let anything get in her way, resilient, a fighter, not by choice. but a warrior at heart."

PART THREE:

Andrea had not heard from her brother in awhile, so she assumed she'd make herself more educated on the current state of the "Avengers team."

She knew of Tony the best, most likely because he preferred it that way. He was always a very conspicuous man, having the lust for attention with the bravado he performed. Andrea was noticing a change in this behavior, however.

Considering what was happening between the patriotic man and the man of iron, Andrea could sense something in Mr. Stark that she'd never seen before. He was beginning to lay low. Of course, he wouldn't stop his profiting and innovating as well as inventing; he simply couldn't. For one it brought him the most important thing--money--and two: that was just frankly who he was as a person.

After catching up on her research of the team that was slowly falling apart, Andrea found herself venturing to her second most favorite work space in her large house: her training room.

Here in her training room she was occupied with the most obvious, training, as well as designing new weaponry and gadgets. Yes, she had not been fighting, but it kept her mind entertained and she thought it best to always be prepared for the unexpected. And, being recruited by her brother to fight in a civil war with two prideful men going head-to-head seemed pretty unexpected to her.

Finding herself lost in her thoughts, in the corner of her eye she saw one of her web-cams, settled in the front of her house, catch the sight of a car pulling up.

Watching the person get out of the car she could not identify who it was, as they had a black hoodie pulled over their head.

Readying her weapons, Andrea first triggered her house into lockdown mode, closing all entrances aside from the main door which she was heading towards now, completely armed.

Standing in a concealed area by the main door, Andrea twisted her throwing knives, playing with them in her hands. She was completely calm in this situation, knowing exactly how to handle it.

She was the most skilled fighter out of her, her brother, and the other assassin, Natasha Romanoff. She beat both of them in combat a majority of the time--she had her off-days. At times she would even find herself beating both of them at once in their advance of attack.

Hearing the familiar pick of the lock, Andrea got her knives ready for their departure. Whoever this person was breaking in, oh how they would be sorry. Andrea smiled wickedly. The thrill.

Finally, the person slowly opened the door. This individual seemed smarter than most, though. He didn't butt his head out of the other side of the door, using it as a shield. This frustratingly obstructed Andrea's target. Goddamnit, come out of your hiding, you wimp.

As if on command the hoodie-clad person came out from behind the door, not before skillfully summersaulting across the floor, once again leaving them out of Andrea's view.

Having enough of this cat and mouse game, Andrea slowly emerged from her hiding spot, approaching the invader with the ease of a feline.

Catching the criminal off guard, the girl found an opportunity to pounce. Still slightly on the ground, Andrea swept her feet under the invader's own.

Jumping on top of the intruder, having utter control of the situation, she had her knives nearly stabbing the person now underneath her, not before being flipped over coming face-to-face with the annoyingly familiar face.

She rolled her eyes while he smiled down at her: "Not bad, little sis. But I've been practicing."

Her knives now not occupied in her hands, she reached up with one of them, jabbing her brother in the neck, using this opportunity to bring one of her legs up and switch the positions of the two once again. "You're not the only one."

It was Clint's turn to roll his eyes now, expressing, "Why am I not surprised? You always seem to be practicing."

"Correct you are." She looked at him with a serious expression now, "What time do we leave."

Making eye contact with her, he replied, "Now, so go pack your stuff. We've got a long trip ahead of us, Dre."

Making her way up the stairs, Andrea gave one glance back at her brother, "Clint?"

"Yes?"

Putting that foreign smile she hadn't felt in awhile on, she said, "I missed you...a lot."

"Me too, Bug. Me too."

Well here goes nothing, let's hope I'm not too rusty. Andrea knew this would be quite the journey.

[a/n] i never realized how much i truly enjoy writing this story((: btw "Bug" is a nickname Clint gave Andrea when they were younger, u'll find out why sooner or later;)