Happy Thanksgiving

Disclaimer: It's still too far away from Christmas to ask for the Avengers, yes?
Rating: K+
Pairing: Slight Clint/Natasha
Summary: In which nine Thanksgivings are either celebrated or not celebrated by Clint and Natasha.
Author's Note: I guess this would be the second in my holiday series. At least this one is closer to the actual holiday.


Maybe Clint wants to ease her into holidays by only introducing one celebration per year, because it's the year after her first Christmas that he explains Thanksgiving.

"I know what it is," she says grumpily, because he's interrupted her precious downtime. "We weren't in a bubble. What if I ever had to infiltrate a Thanksgiving dinner?"

"Are you celebrating it?"

She scoffs at him. "Why would I want to celebrate a holiday where the goal is to eat as much food as possible and watch men in tights ram into each other? Or worse, watch giant balloons floating around? I volunteered for guard duty."

"Aw, Nat," he whines. "You're no fun."

"If you say so," she says, rolling her eyes.

The next year, she goes to volunteer for guard duty and finds her request denied. "Barton," she growls, and stomps off towards his room. She picks the lock and points a gun at his head. "Barton!"

"Hello to you, too," he says pleasantly, a look of innocence on his face that nobody would believe.

"I am not celebrating!"

"Come on, Nat! You like Christmas," he points out, which is certainly not true.

"I tolerate Christmas," she corrects him, "and only because I can't stand your whining."

He grins at her. "Thanksgiving dinner at Phil's. You're coming."

"No, I'm not."

She doesn't hide in her room when he comes to fetch her. She just doesn't want her reading time to be interrupted, and that's the only reason she props a chair against her doorknob. "Nat. Naaaat," she can hear Clint whine. "Come on, Nat. Nat. Nat Nat Nat." She groans and heads for the shower, where the pounding of the water drowns out the pounding of Clint on her door.

The year after, she preempts his whining by putting in for guard duty months in advance. She also avoids him when she can, and when she can't, she pretends he isn't there.

She might regret it when he's genuinely upset for the week afterwards.

It's a month before four-present Christmas and she's already gotten him socks, and she wonders if it's time to celebrate Thanksgiving. The indecision annoys her enough that she snaps at Clint every time she even thinks he's mentioning Thanksgiving, and he actually gives her space.

That doesn't stop him from pestering her the year after, and she finally agrees to go with him to Phil's and celebrate Thanksgiving.

She refuses to enjoy it, and when she really puts her mind to something, she's able to accomplish it without much efforts.

The food is really tasty, though, which makes it a bit harder.

She finally breaks on her second Thanksgiving when Clint tries to get her into the holiday spirit while she's still trying to refuse to enjoy herself.

"Shut up!" she yells at him. "Why would anyone want to celebrate such a stupid holiday? For family? I don't have a family! I haven't had a family for a long time! I don't even remember my family! I hate you, and I hate this holiday, and I am never celebrating it again!"

She throws a plate of cranberry sauce at him and practically runs back to her room.

Very late that night, Clint lets himself into her room and perches on the foot of her bed. "I'm sorry, Nat," he says quietly into the darkness. "I wasn't thinking. I didn't have a family for a long time, either. I know how much it hurts. But I'm making a new one. Phil's family now. And...so are you. We're your family, Nat, if you want." He laughs quietly. "Really, we're your family if you don't want. That's what family is. You may not want your family, but they're there for you anyway."

He sits with her for a little while longer, then leaves. The dampness on her pillow is most certainly not from tears.

That night ends her resistance to Thanksgiving. She has to admit, it's kind of nice to sit with Clint and Phil and eat turkey and stuffing (although she won't touch cranberry sauce) and make fun of all the stupid giant floats and watch Clint and Phil get so into football they don't notice when she makes off with the remainder of the pecan pie, a guilty pleasure.

By the time they celebrate Thanksgiving with Thor, Jane, Steve, Darcy, Bruce, Erik Selvig, Happy, Pepper, Tony, and a picture of Phil, she's well versed in the holiday traditions and genuinely enjoys herself. When they go around the table and say what they're thankful for, her response comes easily.

"Family," she says warmly, holding Clint's hand underneath the table. "Family."