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s u r p r i s e

❝ s u r p r i s e ❞

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Celeste grins, adrenaline coursing through her body and reveling in the applause of the crowd as she leaves the spotlight. Sliding past the elephants being coerced forward to do their act, she finds herself immediately heading towards the back of the large tent, where her dressing room is.

Although technically the room is an area of the tent blocked off by a few bed sheets, she enjoys the idea of having a semblance of privacy. Having been born into a traveling circus, it's not exactly something the woman receives lots of.

Her diamond laced leotard sparkles in the vanity's light as she pulls the sheet closed and sits in front of it, briefly admiring her reflection before reaching for one of the many bobby pins keeping her pink wig in place. While she loves her own blonde hair and refuses to grow it out, she found the wig held an updo far better than real hair ever could.

Three months have passed since Celeste's initial run-in with Clint and she had yet to hear anything else from him. She continues about her usual daily schedules, though she's subconsciously made it a habit to be on the lookout for the man. The stubborn archer wouldn't give up until he completed his task, nevermind the fact that she's in a new location every other week.

Practicing during the day and performing in the evenings, as well as continuously packing and unpacking all of her belongings, Celeste remains busy, leaving little time to worry about things such as an Avengers Initiative. With her mother being a trapeze artist and her father being the ringmaster, it only made since that she follow their footsteps, becoming the best acrobat in the business by the age of twelve. Though they both had retired nearly seven years ago, Celeste chose to continue pursuing this lifestyle, having never known anything else.

Reaching for her makeup removers, Celeste freezes, another reflection in the luminescent mirror catching her eye.

"Why can't you sit on the sofa like a normal person?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Clint retorts, jumping down from where he was perched on top of a dresser.

"How did you know where to find me?" She asks, not bothering to turn around as she continues to remove her facade. "North Carolina isn't exactly close to New York."

"You're not as good at staying under the radar as you think," he states, pointing to a nearby advertisement for the circus - which has her picture plastered across it and tour dates and locations directly underneath it.

Celeste sighs, pulling a silk robe over her shoulders and rising from her seat. "As much as I'd love to sit here and listen to you rant about your - what was it? Revenge Initiation? - I've got stuff to do. So, be a dear and show yourself out."

Patting Clint's cheek with a self-satisfied smirk, she brushes past him and back into the bustling backstage crowd. Clint remains rooted to the spot, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion.

"What just happened?"

Glancing around the tent, Celeste smiles triumphantly as her gaze locks onto the person she was looking for.

"Uncle Stefan!" She calls out, causing the man to drop the swords he was juggling. Rushing over to him, she helps to pick them up as she continues. "There's someone in my dressing room dying to see you."

"Really?" He questions, his Australian accent prominent. "Who?"

"It's a surprise, but you won't be disappointed," she promises.

Stefan shoots her one more questioning look before rising to his feet once more, making a beeline for the sheets leading to her dressing room. Celeste can't help but to giggle as his excited cries are soon heard, knowing Clint would be kept busy for quite a while.





➵➵➵➵




"Did you honestly think I wouldn't look here first?" Clint asks, placing his hands on his hips exasperatedly.

Hours had passed since Celeste bombarded Clint with Stefan's overzealous personality and the crowds had long since dispersed, leaving only old-fashioned oil lamps as sources of light since the stage lights needed to be conserved. Celeste didn't mind though, considering she could slip through the shadows and hide out with the animals more easily.

"Maybe I wanted to be found," she comments with a shrug of her shoulders. "What can I say? I'm curious."

Clint rolls his eyes but, nevertheless, climbs into the large cage she's hiding out in and slides down next to her. Celeste glances up at him, waiting for him to speak and continuing to casually stroke the tiger's fur as though it's not one of the most dangerous animals in the world. The large feline purrs loudly, causing Clint to immediately scoot further away.

Taking a deep breath and gathering his thoughts, Clint immediately launches into what had to be a speech he prepared weeks in advance, explaining to her everything there is to know about the secret project known as the Avengers Initiative. Celeste nods along, for once not interrupting him and letting him speak, her curiosity truly getting the best of her. She listens as he speaks about a man known as Nick Fury, the one who started the whole thing, and many of the world reknowned heroes being asked by an Agent named Phil Coulson to join the team as well.

"Basically, it's the same thing you've been doing when you're not performing, except now it's not illegal and you'll actually get paid," Clint concludes. "Any questions?"

"Actually, there is one really important one. Do you ever change out of that ridiculous outfit?" She asks with the most serious expression she can muster, gasping dramatically as another question arises. "Am I going to have to wear something like that?"

"You have no right to be offended," he scoffs, shoving her shoulder playfully. "At least my job doesn't require wearing a leotard."

"You literally had the exact same job as me for eight years, dumbass."

"And you're just trying to change the subject."

Celeste huffs and crosses her arms childishly, upset he could still see through her sarcastic comments and read her like a book after all these years. As she goes to retort, the loud whirring of a helicopter can be heard hovering above the tent, drowning out anything she said.

"That's my ride," Clint informs her, shouting to be heard above the ruckus. Pushing himself to his feet, he holds his hand out to her. "What do you say, Celeste? Want to join the latest freak show?"

Against her better judgement, Celeste slides her hand into his.

Circus Acts || Clint Barton ✓Where stories live. Discover now