[center][img]http://s8.postimg.org/pwi2gjdsx/superman_logo_012.png[/img][/center]
[b]New Troy, Metropolis[/b]

Clint Barton was annoyed. Clark could tell Clint was annoyed by the way he was pacing. Clint only [i]ever[/i] paced when he was annoyed. He’d seen Barton stand statue still for ten straight minutes whilst foisting his bowstring back. He had better hand-eye coordination than anyone Clark had ever met and there wasn’t a man, creature, or machine on God’s green Earth that could get him to flinch. Yet here he was pacing. The arrows in Barton’s quill knocked around as he walked back and forward on the ledge of the building. Finally after a minute or two of silent pacing Clint turned to Clark to give voice to his annoyance.

[color=MediumPurple][b]"For the past eighteen months I’ve been knocking down the doors to every single LexCorp front on the East Cost, trying to find someone willing to talk to somebody with a badge about Lex, and who do I see on TV fighting Avalanche? You. Really, Clark? [i]Avalanche[/i]? I think you’re forgetting who the real target is here. We can’t afford to waste time on D-Listers whilst Lex is still a free man."[/b][/color]

It was [i]always[/i] Lex with Clint. Beneath his braggadocio in his Hawkeye persona was a thoughtful and considerate individual. When it came to Lex Luthor that went out of the window and all Barton saw was a wall of unending red. It was Clark’s job to try to put that monster back in the bottle. For eighteen months he had been able to do that but it was clear from the look in Clint’s eye that he was sick of all the waiting.

[b][color=steelblue]"Trust me, I am doing everything I can to find something that will put Luthor away for good."[/color][/b]

Barton gave Clark a vicious dose of side-eye.

[color=mediumpurple][b]"Are you? Because it doesn’t look like it."[/b][/color]

[b][color=steelblue]"What are you trying to say?"[/color][/b]

Hawkeye turned to face Clark and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. Beneath his purple cowl his face had begun to turn red with anger and flecks of spittle came flying out as he spoke.

[color=mediumpurple][b]"I’m not [i]trying[/i] to say anything. I’m saying that if Lex had put your brother in the ground there wouldn’t be a man on Earth that could make you jump through these hoops."[/b][/color]

Clark shook his head.

[b][color=steelblue]"You know that’s not true, Clint."[/color][/b]

[b][color=mediumpurple]"Come on. I get it, my brother was one of the bad guys but that doesn’t mean that he [i]deserved[/i] to be killed. That sure as hell doesn’t mean that the guy that had him killed gets to walk around like his you-know-what doesn’t stink."[/color][/b]

Several years ago Superman had broken up a gun running ring working out of Metropolis. The Barton brothers had been running point on an operation that went wrong and Clint had been amongst the ones Clark had apprehended. Barney Barton hadn’t been so lucky – he’d escaped. Once word came down the pipeline that the younger Barton was on the inside, Barney’s employer’s employer were worried that he might decide to turn rat to bust little brother out. They slit his throat, cut off his hands and feet and dumped him in the West River.

When Clint found out he promised himself he’d find the person responsible and bring them to justice once he was free. Back then Barton’s idea of justice was a bullet to the brain but he’d had [i]other[/i] ideas since then. As Hawkeye, he’d been able to turn over more stones than lowly ex-con Clint Barton ever would have. He had no idea at the time all his investigating would put Luthor squarely in the frame as the man behind Barney’s death. It was their shared enemy that brought Clint and Clark back together again.

Clark outstretched a hand and pointed it towards the LexCorp building. 

[b][color=steelblue]"You think having to watch him lord it over this entire city from his Watchtower doesn't bother me?"[/color][/b]

Clint shrugged his shoulders.

[b][color=mediumpurple]"You seem pretty relaxed to me."[/color][/b]

Clark’s apologetic tone seemed to disappear and suddenly he was the stern, chiding Superman he’d been that night in the Suicide Slum. His back seemed a little straighter, his chest slightly more puffed out than before, and his eyes, so big and forgiving, became like crystalline orbs that would turn even the most stubborn man to doubt.

[b][color=steelblue]"I am [i]not[/i] you, Clint. As much as I might want to be a normal person, I know every time I pull on this cape that I’m different than the people down there. The power I have, the things I could do, are exactly the reason why we have to do this correctly. The moment I start cutting corners, the moment I start taking the easy way instead of the right way, is the moment that I start playing God. And whilst I may be many things, I am [i]not[/i] a God."[/color][/b]

It was a windless day in Metropolis and Clark’s words seemed to hang in the air for a while after they had left his mouth. Clint stopped in his tracks, peering over the ledge of the building at the gridlocked streets beneath them, and wondered how it must have felt to have that power, that responsibility in your hands. How easy it would be to start implementing a more [i]final[/i] solution for some of the more twisted individuals people in their line of work often ran into. Perhaps in such an instance Clint and Barney would never have survived their run-in with Clark all those years ago.

Clint nodded meekly.

[b][color=mediumpurple]"You’re right. I guess I’m just a little frustrated by our lack of progress is all."[/color][/b]

Clark smiled sympathetically and patted Clint on the back.

[b][color=steelblue]"You’re not the only one."[/color][/b]

Their moment was cut short by the sound of sirens beneath them. An armored truck was ploughing its way through the traffic, stray arms spraying Uzis out of its windows as it went, with several Metropolis City Police Department patrol cars in hot pursuit. Clint lifted his eyebrows suggestively in the direction of the armored truck.

[center][img]http://mimg.ugo.com/201006/46790/cuts/hawkeye-marvel-comics_288x288.jpg[/img][/center]
[b][color=mediumpurple]"Well, lookie-here. What say we go get ourselves into some trouble, Boy Scout? After the week you've had, it sounds like you could do with blowing off a little steam."[/color][/b]