Change is never easy. You fight to hold on. You fight to let go. - Unknown

Chapter One: A New Home

Natasha sighed as she stepped off the plane. The Andorran landscape was beautiful covered in snow. She looked back up the stairs to watch as her husband lifted their two-year-old son up onto his shoulders and walked down the stairs to join her. He smiled at her as he reached her, bending down to kiss her softly. "Welcome to Andorra, Mrs. Barton," he whispered against his lips.

"Likewise, Mr. Barton," she whispered, pulling away and smiling up at her son. "What do you think, Erik?" she asked.

The boy in question was curiously looking from where he was perched on his father's shoulders. "Where our house?" he asked, looking down at his mother.

"We have to drive to our house, Buddy," Clint told him, raising an eyebrow when his son wrapped his small arms around Clint's forehead to steady himself. "Uncle Tony has sent our stuff to the house so all we need to do is drive there."

Erik nodded, twisting his head to take in his surroundings, making Natasha smile; Erik was exactly like his father when it came to taking in his surroundings from a higher perch. Clint had a rucksack on his back so she took it from him, letting him carry their son instead. Her husband took her hand and led her to the car awaiting them.

"We have to send Pepper and Tony a very nice Christmas card," Clint said to her, making her grin at him.

"You mean, I have to send the card," Natasha teased, grinning when her husband pouted at her. "You know I love you," she added, leaning up and kissing him softly.

Clint kissed her back before pulling back as Erik tugged lightly on his hair. "It's snowing!" the little boy squealed happily.

Natasha and Clint smiled; they could already tell that they would be happier here than staying on the run for the rest of their lives…


Clint lay down on the couch as he watched Erik curiously make his way around the living-room, inspecting everything. The archer smiled at his son's curiosity; the boy was as curious as his mother and observant as his father.

Natasha perched herself on the arm of his chair, near Clint's head. She trailed her fingers through his hair, smiling as she watched Erik race from object to object. She looked down as Clint reached up and cupped her face, catching her attention.

"Welcome to our new home, Tasha," he whispered softly, smiling.

Natasha smiled and leaned down, kissing him softly. "Welcome to our new home, Clint," she whispered softly against his lips.

So, apparently, I'm dead, according to one reviewers of one of my other stories. I'm not, obviously. But college is the priority in my life at the moment. I failed an exam due to missing so much after my accident in November so I need to concentrate on that. But I will do updates whenever I'm able to. Thank you for your patience and kindness :)

I hope you enjoy the sequel to Say Something.