"I don't know if this is a plausible situation, but I've done the research and neither of them have recorded birthdays. Natasha was born circa 1928 (apparently) and was only given the anti-aging serum when she was around 20, so Hawkeye technically wouldn't have even been born for another like, 40 years. So just pretend she was born around the same time he was and you'll have a grand old time reading this little bit. :) p.s. If you don't understand the references, google Ivan Petrovitch (her dad), Hawkeye, Swordsman, and BlackWidow respectively. Especially Swordsman, because it explains a lot about the ending. " - WavesOfSorrow
Little Natasha Romanoff couldn't believe her eyes. The skies were lighted up, and it seemed as if the flags that darted around in the wind were on fire. She grasped onto the blue balloon in her hand, not daring to let it go. She stared in awestruck wonder at the sights. The smell of stale popcorn and dirty metal filled her nostrils, and she coughed. Her father, Ivan Petrovitch, gave her a tissue and a cough drop. She sucked on it quietly, but then became inpatient and crunched it in half. Still chewing on the remnants of her candy, she looked up at the big man beside her.
"Daddy?" She asked.
"Yes?"
"What is this place called again?" She stared up at him with her round child-like eyes.
Ivan laughed deeply, and she could feel his laughter rumble in his belly. She gripped tighter onto his hand as a couple of older looking boys passed by. She smelled something funny on them, kind of sour, but also sweet. She ignored it and continued licking her ice cream cone.
"It's called the Circus. It's a place where people perform tricks. These people are very special and talented. Not many people can do what these people are going to show us tonight." He patted her head affectionately and held her tighter to her as more groups of people walked by. She saw Ivan make a face at someone, though she wasn't sure who. There were so many funny smelling people Natasha figured it could have been any one of them. They turned a corner and Natasha stared at the biggest tent she had ever seen.
"Look, there it is! Let's go inside and find some good seats."
He picked her up and flung her onto his shoulders.
She giggled with glee and squealed, "Do it again! Do it again!"
Ivan kept swinging her around until he groaned and said, "Ohh, no more sweetheart, daddy's back is starting to hurt!"
She stared up into his eyes with concern. "Are you hurt daddy?"
He chuckled. "No, no, I'll be alright. It's just that you're getting to be so big! I can't believe you're already seven years old. It seems like just yesterday…"
He sighed and stopped talking. Natasha never really bothered to ask him anything after he did that. He always seemed a little reminiscent whenever he talked about how old she was getting to be, but she never understood why.
They sat there for a few moments, watching people go by to find seats to sit in. The tent gradually began to fill up and echo everyone's conversations off of its flimsy canvas. Ivan bought her a bottle of water when she said she was thirsty, and she gulped it down greedily. He patted her back when she burped, and she smiled up at him. He smiled back and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He pulled away when a large voice boomed inside of the tent.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO CARSONS CARNIVAL OF TRAVELLING WONDERS!"
"It's starting!" She whispered excitedly. She gripped the edge of her seat with excitement, not knowing what was going to happen next. She kicked her feet backwards and forwards. Ivan, after seeing how much she was moving around, tied the balloon on to her wrist, explaining she could still hold onto it without having it float away. She nodded quickly and let him wrap the ribbon around her wrist, her eyes glued on the stage before her. She didn't even blink for fear of missing even one second of this event.
The announcer said some words she didn't really understand, but screamed crazily when the lights dimmed and smoke filled the room.
The lights flashed back on abruptly in different colours than before and spun around the room. A spotlight floated onto the middle of the stage and landed on a tall man. The announcer called him the "Swordsman". Smoke floated in wisps around him and he spun a cape around himself. He explained what he was going to do, which annoyed Natasha because she really just wanted to see him throw his swords around. When he eventually did, she was breathless. The mastery of which the steel blades sliced through the air was unbelievable. Every stroke was filled with precision. She couldn't take her eyes off of the glinting edge that whipped through the air when he spun. His eyes were filled with determination, focus. Her heart pounded with anticipation of his next move and her fingertips tingled from the odd sensation that she wanted to wield a weapon such as that herself. He finally finished his act and swept his cape downward with a dramatic flourish. The audience went wild and began clapping loudly for him.
After the crowd had settled down a bit, he grinned and announced loudly, "For our next performance, please welcome our newest member to the circus and my very own apprentice for his debut, Carson's very own Wonder -"Hawkeye"!"
Natasha gasped as the spotlight shifted upwards at the tight rope poles. A shadow flitted into her vision and leaped onto the platform, which must have been thirty feet above her.. She saw a boy with a dead serious face. She was puzzled and wondered why he wasn't very happy looking. She wasn't paying attention, but the announcer mumbled something over the speakers and a very beautiful bow floated down from the ceiling and hovered above him. He grasped it and waited patiently for the voice to cease.
A strange curiosity gripped Natasha and she begged Ivan to lift her up higher. Her eyes darted around the new boy, analyzing his costume (which she thought looked quite plain compared to the Swordsmans). She was breathless and felt a strange connection to him, even though she was quite certain she had never seen him before in her life. Her heart swelled with an odd joy at watching this boy as he performed. The audience "Oooh'd" as he shot at first unmoving targets, then advanced to targets that danced across the stage. Her heart skipped a beat when performers came out holding targets in their hands, and he hit them directly in the middle. She was breathless at how flawless his Archery skills were and even more amazed that he had never missed a single shot. Not once.
She could see a small smile forming on the boy's lips now and knew how much he enjoyed shooting a bow and arrow. Of course this is his life, how he makes a living, but she had never seen a person who was more comfortable than this "Hawkeye" boy when he was daring death itself to come and get him from atop the miniscule tight rope walking platform.
The announcer spoke up again.
"To conclude our evening, and as a special part of the performance, we will need a volunteer!"
Before Ivan could stop her, Natasha jumped out of his arms and bolted down the steps as fast as her legs could carry her. She walked straight into the arena with her head held high and bounded right up to the man with the microphone. She was confident that whatever was asked of her she would do, and do it better than anyone else.
The man laughed and said "Well, it seems that a little someone is quite eager to participate! What's your name, dear?"
"Natasha."
"Natasha! What a beautiful name, so brave of you to step up on stage here tonight. Let's get a round of applause for Natasha!"
The audience applauded briefly and then became still as the announcer said his next words.
"We're going to get you to stand just riiiiight over here. Okay, hold this…"
He placed various objects into her hands and even balanced something onto her head. She looked behind her and saw a target painted onto the board she was standing against. She wasn't afraid though, just curious.
"Hawkeye, step onto the tight rope please."
He did as he was asked, and walked on the slightly frayed rope smoothly as if he were on solid concrete. The rope bent lightly under his weight, and he shifted his feet slightly to accommodate the swinging line so he didn't fall. His eyes bore into Natasha, and she felt as if he suddenly knew everything about her. The boy's brows furrowed slightly, though it was hard to tell with the lights that were now blinding Natasha. Before her thoughts could trail any further, the announcer boomed into the microphone,
"Now Hawkeye, shoot the objects that Natasha is holding."
The crowd was in an uproar, and Ivan was on his feet and down the stairs before the crowd had a chance to react. He growled under his breath and tried to march into the arena, but some performers blocked his way. His face turned cherry red with fury. Natasha called out to him.
"Don't be scared daddy! I'm not."
He yelled something to her, but she couldn't hear him.
"Daddy, I want to do this, I'll be fine!" She looked up into the pale blue eyes of the boy above her.
"I trust him."
Though she was young, Ivan knew Natasha to already be a good judge of character. This settled him a bit on the inside, but the performers restrained his flailing limbs anyways. They seemed to be explaining to him that the eight year old boy standing on the tight rope was a 'trained professional' and he shouldn't worry, though this seemed to make matters worse. He finally gave in and sat down, with two strongmen at his sides.
The boy nodded solemnly to Natasha and loaded an arrow into his bow. He stepped farther out onto the tight rope. Only Natasha noticed the shallow breath of fear he took before releasing the arrow. The boy then bounded across the tight rope like a fox and released a volley of arrows. She watched as they flew gently down towards her, and within seconds the flurry of arrows thunked into the board. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, though the act was done in a matter of seconds. Every arrow hit it's exact mark – every item in her hands and head were punctured straight through the middle, and he had even surrounded her body with arrows in a very professional looking outline of her shape.
Natasha took a step forward and bowed. The audience clapped, and their faces were full of brilliance and relief. Ecstasy swallowed the room whole and the audience began chanting "Hawkeye! Hawkeye! Hawkeye!"
The boy stood on the rope, unmoving. He glared down at Natasha, and she smiled up at him. She was disappointed when he didn't smile back, but had no time to give him a disapproving look. Ivan scooped her up and held onto her tightly, his fingers entangled in her fiery red hair. She felt a wetness on her cheek, and looked up to see if it was raining.
"That concludes our evening! Don't forget to visit us in about an hour or so to see more of our travelling wonders! We'll be here tomorrow night, and the night after that! Don't forget to leave a *ahem* generous gratuity at the door in thanks for the hard work of all of our staff here at Carsons, and the performers that accompany him!"
Ivan mumbled into her now damp hair. "We're just going to go back-stage and have a word with that man, all right sweetheart?"
She nodded and held onto him as he stalked towards the stage. Ivan finally found the man and told her to "stay put", placing her gently on the floor. His eyes shot daggers into the announcer.
"A word?"
The announcer gulped. "Yes sir, right in here…" He led him to a door a few feet away and shut it with a quiet click.
Natasha sat down and looked around, kicking her feet again.
"Hello."
The voice startled her. She whipped her head around to see the Hawk. Her long red hair caught up with her and hit her in the face. She blew a few strands off in annoyance.
She leapt to her feet. "You were amazing!"
He gave a blank stare. He clearly did not accept praise, or was not used to receiving it. She ignored the fact that he was slightly unresponsive to her and chatted to him. He only looked at her and listened. When she was done raving,
he bluntly said "Look, Nancy, Natow, whatever your name is, I only came over here to apologize. I'm not sure why that was put into the show, because I never practiced it. I could have killed you." His eyes became steely.
She only laughed and said, "My name is Natasha."
"You could have died."
"I know. Death doesn't scare me. My daddy told me I should have died awhile ago anyways."
His eyebrows rose in question, but he didn't ask.
"I take death a little more seriously. About a year ago, my parents died in a car crash –" His voice choked a bit.
She looked up at him with her big green eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "My real parents died too. Daddy told me only this year, but I didn't care because I never knew them. I would be sad if my real daddy died."
He shook his head. "It's not your fault. If you don't have to grieve over your losses like some beaten puppy, only the better to you."
She wondered why he was using such big words. He sounded like an adult talking. He must have had to learn to talk like them very fast, because she didn't notice any other kids who looked as young as he did who had performed in the show. She decided that he was too sad, and she should change the subject.
"I thought that your tricks were really neat."
He beamed and asked, "Would you like me to show you how I do it?"
Her jaw dropped and she squealed, "Would I ever!"
He grabbed her by the hand and escorted her out onto the stage. She climbed up the ladder with no fear, even when she felt one of the rungs give way. The boy instinctively caught her foot with his hand, and she had continued climbing up with a bit of a push from him. He gave her some quick pointers once they were on the platform and helped her step onto the rope. He gripped his hands around her waist tightly, tugging on the folds of her girlish dress.
He nosed his face into her mess of bright hair and breathed in her scent. She smelt like apples and cinnamon, but not the kind that were served here at the carnival. He felt strangely comforted by the fact that she smelt like home, and reminded her of his family. He brushed his lips against her ear and whispered, "Don't look down."
She gulped and closed her eyes; the sudden realization of how high up she was made her a little nauseous. But then she breathed in slowly, and felt comfortable in this strangers arms. He started off slowly at first, lightly using his feet to tap her own feet onto the place where they should be on the rope to maintain her balance.
"What's your name?" She asked quietly, desperately trying to calm the tremor in her voice. She would not be afraid, and she would be strong, like daddy said she was.
"My name is Clint."
"That's a good name."
"So is Natasha."
They glided silently along the thread that stretched out across the stages expanse. Her feet tiptoed into ballet point, and he lifted her up and spun her around carefully. She finally opened her eyes and looked down, unafraid. She felt Clint's hands on her outstretched arms, holding her up. Adrenaline danced around in her body with the thrill of feeling independent, knowing that she could do something without her dad holding her hand all the time. She knew how protective he was of her, especially knowing how her parents had died in a dangerous accident, and knew he never wanted her to be unsafe. She also knew that no matter how much he kept her away from anything, it was only because he loved her. But this felt good; it felt right. She knew that being up here, swirling life and death around herself and Clint with their flawless grace and elegance was the best she had ever felt. But she was so young, and she wondered if she had suddenly grown up to be thinking such mature thoughts.
Their ballroom sway ended when they reached the other side of the rope. They both breathed heavily, with the knowledge that they had done something together so effortlessly. That they had absolute trust in each other, regardless the situation. And they had barely known each other for ten minutes.
Clint lowered his arms from her waist. He dipped down and grabbed her hand. He took it in between his own hand and kissed it softly.
"M'lady."
Natasha giggled with happiness. "That's weird. Are you in love with me?"
"I saw it in a movie once…" he mumbled. His cheeks flushed almost unnoticeably.
Natasha felt pure ecstasy being with Clint, and before either of them knew what was going on she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. He almost fell back in shock, though remembered where he was and steadied himself.
She could only smile up at him. "I like you Clint. Not in a lovey-dovey kind of way, but in a best friend kind of way. You're really fun to hang out with."
He smiled back at her, though felt confused at the kiss and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Thanks."
They went down the ladder and back onto the stage. They played pretend for about a half an hour, fighting bad guys and pirates, though their playing was much more convincing than most other children's. Clint even let Natasha pick up his bow, and they both expressed their love for weapons and fighting while together. As the night went on, they knew they were already meant to be best friends. He could trust her with his most prized possession, and she could trust him dangling on a fraying rope tens of feet above the ground.
They're playtime was cut short when Ivan stomped out of the announcers room again. Ivan appeared to be calm, but the announcer's eyes were wide with fear. His skin was an unnatural white and his knees were clacking together loudly.
Ivan went up to Natasha and mumbled, "Sorry that took so long sweetheart, but daddy's ready to go now."
She shook her head. "I don't want to go yet daddy, I'm having lots of fun with Clint."
Clint flinched and clenched his eyes together tightly when the man walked up to him, expecting him to scowl and hit him like every other big man did, but nothing happened. Instead the man kneeled down, patted him on the head and affectionately fluffed his hair.
"Thanks for being friends with Natasha, kiddo. I know it's not your fault, what they asked you to do. I'm not mad at you either. You're just a kid, and I'm not going to blame you for your actions."
Clint smiled up at him, glad that someone was being nice to him for a change.
"You've got quite the knack for shooting. You must be pretty special for Natasha to run up to you and let you shoot at her without a second thought." He chuckled a bit. Natasha beamed at Clint.
"Thanks." Clint said shyly.
"We'll come out tomorrow and visit you kid. I'm going to make sure that nobody hurts you, ever again. I got a - *ahem* - confession out of the announcer, about what's really been going on with you during our 'chat'." His face became grim.
"I'm sorry. I've been down that road too buddy." He placed a hand on his shoulder. "I've already rescued one kid," he ruffled Natasha's ruby-red hair, "so why not another? The police are going to get involved, and everything is going to be just fine. You're going to be fine. Chin up until tomorrow." And with that he stood up.
Natasha ran to him and embraced him in an unbreakable hug. He held her back, not wanting the only friend he had ever made to be leaving him so quickly. "You'll come back? Tomorrow?"
"I hope so. I have a feeling that we'll see each other again anyways."
They let go, and she gave him a wide grin. "Partners?"
He nodded, and smiled lightly back at her. "Partners."
She found partners to be a better word than "best friends"; that sounded so girly. Even though she was a girl, she had never truly identified with her feminine side. She quite liked wearing dresses and such, though she felt more at home with boys rather than girls. Playing with sticks and stones rather than dolls. Regardless, she was glad that there was someone who liked her just the way she was, and could even teach her new things.
She left him there, standing alone in the middle of the stage. Ivan scooped her up into his arms and they walked out of the tent. Natasha sadly waved back at Clint, and he returned her gesture.
The next day, Ivan brought an officer to the campground to release Hawkeye from his circus prison, but it was deserted. Only remnants of popcorn boxes and streamers that hung limply in the wind gave any indication that the circus was ever there at all. Natasha saw tears in Ivan's eyes, though there were none in her own. She didn't cry. She would be strong for daddy, since he couldn't be strong on his own. She hugged him and hoped that Clint would jump out a tree somewhere, and start playing with her again. Many policemen came to the sight, their sirens blaring and horns honking deafeningly. They couldn't find her friend, and didn't know where he could be. They gave up the search at the end of the day, expressing their sympathies. She begged them to try harder, but they only shook their heads and left. Daddy bought her a special treat to comfort her, but she didn't touch it. They went home that night, and Natasha had nightmares of what might have happened to him.
She knew that a bond had been formed with Clint, and she would see him again one day. She knew they would be a lot older, but she decided that she could be patient. She could never imagine the circumstances they would meet under again, or imagine how drastically the both of them would change. She could only hope that he would still trust her with a bow, and that she could still close her eyes and know he was watching out for her every move, guiding her foot steps to be where they needed to be. She prayed that he remembered that they were partners now, and would be forever; that their childhood promise was something that could never be broken. She could only wait, and hope that every time they were together, their performance would be flawless.