“You realize that once you walk through that door, Agent Moore, you’ll no longer be welcomed here.”

“Yes, sir,”

“Very well, then. Make sure you leave your gun and your badge when you leave.”

“Thank you, sir,”

Fury stalked out of the room without another word, leaving Sydney Moore to her thoughts. We’re just that much closer, Clint. After placing all of the items S.H.I.E.L.D. had given her upon Fury’s desk, she walked out of his office and was escorted by other agents to the exits, thinking it would only bit a little longer till Clint joined her not as Hawkeye or Agent Barton, but as Clinton Francis Barton — just another normal guy.

Six months passed, and Sydney Moore was still waiting for Clint to join her, for Clint to give up S.H.I.E.L.D., for Clint to keep his word. Each day seemed to pass slower than the one before, and each day Sydney became slightly less hopeful.

“I’m sorry for asking you to wait, but just a little longer,” was something Clint would usually tell her over a secure, long distance phone call from who knows where.

Sydney rose from her bed at six o’clock in the morning and did her usual routine of showering and getting ready for the day. At eight she departed for the police station, arriving there right on time and heading straight for the cage to help her friend, James, clean the rifles. Most days she patrolled around in a black and white, other days she helped clean the guns with James, but her priority occupation was going out with S.W.A.T. to major incidents. She’d arrived home at four o’clock like clockwork and would make herself some dinner and watch some reality television and other programming.

There was nothing outstanding about her life and she sometimes found herself wondering if she should have quit her job at S.H.I.E.L.D. or not. At first she would regret it, but reminded herself of Clint and realized that when he came everything would fall into place.

As Sydney settled into bed, she always was at her loneliest. There wasn’t another body beside her to comfort her or make her feel loved, that body was always off on missions with the Russian beauty, Romanoff. Sydney always worried over losing Clint to Natasha, though he would always ease her doubts about his faithfulness in the end.

How did she know if he wasn’t off with her right now?—She didn’t. She’d just have to have faith.

“I can’t,” she murmured to herself. “I can’t have faith in him anymore. It’s been too long.”

Staring at her open bedroom window, she let out a sigh before grabbing her laptop. After turning it on and opening up her web browser, she went to the search engines and did what she knew had to be done. Within minutes, she purchased her one-way ticket to California from New York the next day.

Sydney couldn’t wait anymore for a dream she realized wouldn’t come true. She knew that what Fury had told her earlier was right. She had been kidding herself when she thought he would actually leave his profession behind for her.

“Barton’s duty isn’t one that he can just walk away from, Agent Moore. He’s a vital part of S.H.I.E.L.D. and his position is one that only he can fill. He knows that, too.” Fury’s voice rung throughout her mind. “So I suggest you leave this facility and abandon all hope of Agent Barton leaving his post to play house with you.”

Sydney shook her former boss’s voice from her mind, though now knew it was the truth. Clint wouldn’t, or rather couldn’t, leave his post to be with her. It was an idiotic fantasy to begin with.

“I’m sorry Clint, but. . . I’m done waiting.”

An object pierced the air and was shot into the floor of her room, causing Sydney to rely on her fast reflexes and jump back and away from it. When she realized what it was, Sydney sauntered towards the arrow and picked it up from the floor, taking off the attached note and reading it silently to herself.

Sydney, this is my last mission. I’ve already spoken to Fury about my leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. and made it clear that this was it. I know I’ve put you through hell and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for making you wait, but I’m promising you now that this is the last one. All I’m asking is for you to wait a little longer. A little longer and I’ll be all yours. —Barton.

Staring out the window, she rushed to it and stuck her head out of the opening, looking around for any sight of the archer. When she realized he was long gone, she shut the window and closed the curtains.

“How can I wait for you any longer, Clint? I don’t have all the time in the world.”

The next morning, she woke up bright and early to pack away her things. After doing so, she went to the police station, quit the force, and was soon making her way to JFK Airport to catch her flight. When she finished with the lengthy security measures, she boarded effortlessly and was soon taking off.

As New York disappeared from sight, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders, though her heart felt weak and empty. She wished that it didn’t have to end like this; she wished that she could have had more faith in Clint, but she was exhausted from feeling so led on. She didn’t want to put her heart through anymore grief. She didn’t want to get her hopes up and then watch them come tumbling down before her eyes.

When the plane touched down in California, Sydney disembarked at her own pace and made her way to the baggage claim. As she walked away from the carousel after gathering her things, a hand was placed upon her shoulder.

“Moore,” the voice of the person calling her last name caused her to stop in her tracks, though she was afraid to turn around for fear of realized it was just a figment of her imagination. “Moore, turn around.”

She refused to move an inch and a chuckle could be heard from behind her, so instead he walked in front of her. Clint’s dirty blond hair was in its usual short, spiked-up style, his blue eyes seemed glossy and somewhat tired, but the small smile that graced his features was the thing that seemed to make Sydney realize that this wasn’t an illusion before her eyes.

“Just what do you think you’re doing on the other side of the country, Syd?”

Sydney didn’t respond, instead tackling the man before her and feeling the familiar warmth that was emitted from his body. “I’m sorry I couldn’t wait, Clint.” She spoke softly.

“It’s fine, Syd. I’m just glad I got here before you left.”

“How’d you know I was here?”

“I used S.H.I.E.L.D.’s computers and found out that you had bought a plane ticket. After my final mission, I had Nat drop me off here.”

“So. . . you’re. . . you’re really—”

“Yeah, I’m not Agent Barton anymore,” Clint kissed the top of Sydney’s head and held her close in his arms. “And thank you for always waiting just a little longer, Sydney.”