Disclaimer: Natasha and Clint belong to the wonderful minds at Marvel.
Safe
Natasha sighed and rolled over on to her side. She could hear Clint's quiet breaths behind her as he was sleeping soundly. Natasha, on the other hand, couldn't sleep. She was staring at the dark bedroom door that she was now facing and her thoughts were racing. She and Clint were supposed to leave for a mission at 0700, and Natasha kept going over all the details from the brief again and again. Their target was a ring of child molesters who had an estimated 17 kids locked away in an old office building. Natasha visualized the building, its entrances and exits, the rooms where they suspected the kids were held, and the positioning of any guards before her inner eye. Rescue missions like this one were never easy – you never knew whether the captives had been moved and whether they were still alive and mobile – and there was always a chance that the kidnappers would kill our injure the captives if they noticed the liberation attempt too early. But despite their difficulty, rescue missions had never fazed Natasha. Until now.
She closed her eyes and frowned. She was stuck. No matter which strategies she thought of, no matter which points of entry and exit she chose, she just couldn't figure out a way to get to all of the kids before the kidnappers would notice her and Clint's presence. Even with a whole load of SHIELD agents as back up, the rooms where the kids were held were too far from another. And on top of it all, SHIELD didn't even know for sure that these rooms were where the kids were actually kept. No-one had been able to gather intel on the inside. They had gotten hold of building's blue prints and used them to deduct where the children would most likely be kept. What if Natasha headed for the wrong room and the kidnappers noticed her? The thought of not getting to the kids in time made her extremely… uneasy. There was a knot in her stomach, and she could almost feel her blood coursing through her veins.
Adding to the uneasiness was her anger about the fact that she was so uneasy in the first place. Why did she even care so much? She had done rescue missions before, she had done missions involving kids before, and she knew that in their business, collateral damage couldn't be avoided. There was no way to ensure that really everyone got out safely. She had experienced this many times before – as long as the majority of the captives or the most important captive could be saved, the mission was a success. So why did it bother her so much that she wouldn't be able to get to all the kids in time? When had she begun to worry so much? Until now, every mission Natasha had done as the Black Widow had been calculated and emotionless. Even if a mission had claimed children as collateral damage, Natasha didn't fret. Of course she didn't want anyone to die, young or old, but she had come to accept that that was what life was like. All she could do was her best. Whether she had worked for the Soviet Union or for SHIELD, the Black Widow had been so exceptional at her job because she didn't let the mission get to her. But now here she was, at 3 am in the morning, worrying about her upcoming mission when she should really be getting some sleep.
Natasha adjusted the pillow under her head and closed her eyes. "Come on, sleep!" she willed herself, without any success. As soon as she closed her eyes, her mind returned to the blue prints and guard positions. Exasperated, she buried her face in the pillow and stopped herself from moaning out loud. She wondered how Clint could be sleeping so well. If someone worried about a mission it was him, not her.
As if on cue, Clint turned and threw one of his arms across her body, snuggling closer to her back. Natasha reached for his hand that was now lying in front of her and intertwined her fingers with his. She felt Clint's leg slip between hers, and his breath tickled the back of her neck when he buried his face in her curls.
"What's wrong?" Clint asked groggily. His thumb slowly massaged the back of her hand.
Natasha hesitated for a moment and pressed her lips together.
"We won't be able to get all the kids out in time. I went over the brief again. The rooms they're held in are too far apart," she finally replied, staring straight ahead at the dark door.
Clint pulled her closer against him. Natasha remained rigid in his embrace. Even though she certainly didn't mind the close body contact with Clint, she was too preoccupied for it now. What if she went in through the second window on the right on the ground floor at the back of the building before heading down corridor C? There were two guards in the corridor, but if she used a silencer she would probably be able to take them out without anybody noticing. Once they were down, she could have ten SHIELD agents come after her and accompany her to the first room. It was guarded by three men, by their estimation, and probably also by a video feed. They would most likely be detected by then, but at least five of the agents with her could grab the kids in the first room (if they were even in there) and take them back the way they had come, and if she moved on immediately after taking down the three guards in front of the first room, she might be able to get to room number two in time to take out the guards there and again leave the kids to the other agents. If she was really fast, she could even get to room number three and take out the guards there before they could call for back up or hurt the kids. If she was really, really fast. The third room was on the second floor of the basement, and if she got there, she still had the issue of getting back out with the kids and –
"I know," Clint whispered. "But that's only our current status of intel. I'm not planning to rely on that. We're gonna gather our own intel and find out where the kids really are before we go in. I've already figured out some ways to do that without being in the building."
Natasha remained stiff.
"Tasha, relax. We'll do this. We always do. We'll get all the kids out," Clint whispered. He loosened his grip on Natasha's hand and traced up her arm all the way to her shoulders. She felt him nuzzle the side of her neck.
"Are you worried?" he asked, amusement swinging in his voice.
"No. I just want our mission to be a success." Natasha replied curtly.
"Then you should catch some sleep," Clint murmured. His hand moved further up to massage the back of her neck.
Natasha closed her eyes and felt the tension in her body slip away. Her breathing slowed, and she let herself sink back against Clint's chest as her muscles seemed to relax one by one. Clint responded by tucking the blankets closer around Natasha. When he was done, his hand moved back up her body, this time to massage her scalp.
One thing Natasha admired about Clint was that he could really make her feel safe. Yes, the room was dark and the bedroom door to their SHIELD quarters was more than flimsy, and if someone burst in at this moment she'd be at a huge disadvantage tucked in and cuddled by Clint, but for some reason, she didn't care. Everything around her was warm and she could feel Clint's even heartbeat vibrating through her back. Lying here, she was content as she slowly melted further into Clint's embrace. He was right - the mission would be fine. They'd find a way to get all the kids out by gathering more intel. But not now. There wasn't anything she could do right now besides sleeping. And she was so very tired anyway and Clint's fingertips felt so good against the sensitive skin of her scalp….
All of a sudden, the shrill beeping of the alarm clock resonated through the room. Natasha woke up with a start. It felt like she had only just fallen asleep. She tried to reach for the snooze button but was constrained by Clint's arm wrapped tightly around her. She'd found out early on in the relationship that Clint was a very possessive sleeper and while she had at first resisted his constant need for body contact, she now had to admit that she really liked it when she woke up almost buried under him.
"Too early," Clint rasped.
"Hmmm," Natasha replied whilst wiggling out of his embrace to reach for the alarm. She finally managed to silence the damn thing and settled back down, only to be pulled tightly against Clint's chest.
Her thoughts returned to the mission and she immediately buried her face in the crook of Clint's neck. She wanted to shut the world out just a little longer, wanted to lie here in the dark breathing in Clint's scent and listening to his heartbeat. She didn't want to think about child molesters and blue prints yet. Lying here in bed with Clint, everything was right.
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