I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack! This isn't exactly the best work I've done but this is just a little Clintasha one-shot that I thought of. It's post-Winter Soldier, pre-Age of Ultron. I hope you guys like it!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers. If I did, Clintasha would be together forevaaaaaaa. I also do not own the lyrics posted below. They are from the song "Four Walls" by Broods.
Those four walls now are the only place that I can breathe out,
And those four walls now are home.
Those four walls now are the only place that I can feel,
Those four walls now are home.
The drive down the arid and desolate dirt road wasn't exactly a trip she wanted to make. At least, not under these circumstances.
Natasha followed the road through the dead of the night. The road was flanked by row upon row of corn on each side, which swayed with the wind that was starting to pick up. A storm was brewing on the horizon and Natasha hoped she reached her destination before it hit.
She'd been driving for several hours now, only stopping a handful of times for a bathroom or coffee break. But the caffeine was wearing off. Her eyelids were starting to droop and she was yawning every so often, but the cracks of lightning off in the distance kept her alert.
Finally, a break in the field gave way to a clearing. Natasha braked as a white farmhouse and brown barn came into view. Just as she came to a stop, the engine purring with glee, a few fat raindrops hit the windshield. Another crack of lightning lit up the sky like the Fourth of July, followed by an angry rumble of thunder. She'd made it just in time.
She rolled up the windows and cut the engine. The wind howled as the rain grew heavier. She gathered her belongings, pulled the hood of her jacket onto her head, and then thrust herself from the car. She sprinted to the front porch, mud splashing onto her boots and jeans. As she reached the front step, quarter-sized hail began to fall from the heavens.
Sorrowfully, she cast a sympathetic look at the Audi. It was a shame it had to take such a beating after it had survived a brutal road trip. Good thing it wasn't her car. She had to thank Mr. Michael Ronson for leaving his car unattended for her to carjack. What an idiot.
Shaking the raindrops from her hair and jacket, she let herself into the silent farmhouse with her key. Another crack of lightning lit up the sky just as she stepped into the foyer. She shut the door behind her as quietly as possible, but another rumble of thunder drowned out the click of the door locking.
The rain picked up, beating against the flimsy walls of the farmhouse, as she made her way down the dark hallway. But she didn't need any lights to guide her way. She'd made this trip one too many times.
A flash of lightning lit up the room at the end of the hall. The kitchen looked almost the same as the last time she'd seen it. A simple white refrigerator hummed in the corner of the room while a table and chairs set sat in the middle of the room. A small pile of dirty dishes festered in the sink, untouched, as the pesky faucet leaked, drops of water hitting the metal basin with a plink.
Another rumble of thunder shook the house and the wind and the rain howled with anger. The storm raged on outside, but inside, everything was calm.
Natasha stepped further into the kitchen, dropping her rain-soaked duffle bag on the kitchen table, and then made a beeline for the fridge. She opened the door and the kitchen was bathed in golden light. Inside, the fridge was stocked with fresh fruits and veggies and ice-cold beverages. The gallon of milk that was perched on the door was only a day old yet still remained sealed.
After scanning the shelves for a bottle of beer and finding herself disappointed, she settled for a small bottle of Sunny D. She let the door swing shut, the contents of the appliance clanging together as it sealed itself. She snapped open the bottle of Sunny D but it barely reached her lips when she heard the cock of a gun.
In any other situation, she would reach for her own gun. But in this case, there was no need. Instead, a smirk stretched across her lips.
"You know better than to point a gun at me, Barton," she purred.
From the shadows, Clint Barton stepped out. He set the safety on his gun before setting it the kitchen table. He stood in front of the redhead with just enough space between them, and yet, they were oceans apart.
"Can never be too sure now," he grumbled as he scratched the back of his head.
They stood in silence, only making eye contact when the lightning illuminated the kitchen. Each time, they noticed something different about the other. Clint's tired grey eyes. Natasha's mascara stained cheeks. A new scar on Clint's forearm. The bruise on Natasha's jawline.
Haggard and tired, they were spent.
The wind continued to howl and the rain picked up, creating monsoon-like conditions outside, before either of them made any type of contact with the other. It was Clint who made the first move, taking a hesitant step toward the redhead. When he reached out to her, she didn't flinch. She barely moved. Instead, she basked in the feel of his callused fingers against her jaw.
It had been almost a year since they'd been in the same room together, let alone the same continent. SHIELD had been sure to keep them both busy, that's for sure. But now, they weren't quite sure where to go.
"How was your trip?" Clint asked, breaking the silence.
Natasha swallowed. "Fine," she answered tersely.
Clint nodded, too tired to ask her to elaborate. Then again, he knew better than to pry more information from her. It was like pulling teeth.
More silence followed as the storm died down outside, only to pick back up again. There was no telling when it would end, just like there was no telling if SHIELD would ever begin again.
"So what do we do now?" Clint asked sleepily as he dropped into one of the kitchen chairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
It was a question Natasha had avoided since SHIELD fell, mostly because she was hoping someone else would give her the answer. But since Clint, the person she thought would have all the answer, didn't seem to know what to do either, she was at a loss.
"We live, I guess," she sighed, taking a step toward the archer.
Hesitantly, she reached out to him, gently brushing her fingertips across his cheek before tangling her fingers in his hair. They hadn't had this much physical contact in over a year. It was like a jolt of electricity was coursing through their veins.
Then, it happened so suddenly. Clint was hoisting her onto the table and Natasha was pulling his t-shirt over his head. His mouth was attacking hers, biting playfully on her lower lip. She stripped herself of as much wet clothing as possible before he picked her up again and carried her up the stairs into the eye of the storm.
When Natasha awoke the next morning, she was aware of a few things. One, she was naked, save for a flimsy sheet that covered her in the most important places. Two, she was blinded by the golden morning light. And three, she was smiling.
The smell of bacon and eggs wafted upstairs and Natasha felt her stomach growl. She slid out from underneath the sheet and searched the room for a set of clothes. She settled on a pair of Clint's boxer and one of his ratty t-shirts before setting out for sustenance.
The stairs creaked just like she remembered them and the bottom one still had a crack in it from that time Clint took a hammer to it to fix something that didn't need to be fixed. The banister was just as worn. It was still missing one of the balusters from that time Clint and Natasha sparred on a wintry night. She'd kicked him a little too hard and it sent him hurtling backwards, taking out the baluster in question.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the beautiful sound of Frank Sinatra's "Come Fly With Me" snaked its way down the hall. A smile played upon the redhead's lips but she fought it off until she heard Clint singing along.
Padding down the hall, the scent of bacon and eggs grew stronger as Clint's singing got louder and the sound of children laughing became evident.
"Come fly away, let's fly, let's fly away," Clint crooned into a wooden spoon as the two children at the table giggled.
Natasha leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, watching the scene unfold in front of her. SHIELD may have fallen, but she still had her family.
"If you can use some exotic booze, there's a bar in far Bombay," Clint continued, moonwalking through the kitchen and occasionally flipping the eggs and prodding the bacon.
"Come fly away, let's fly, let's fl – oh hey, Tasha," Clint said sheepishly when his gaze landed on Natasha in the doorway.
Suddenly, two pairs of eyes – one blue, one green – fell on Natasha, and a coexisting gasp escaped both of the children's mouths. Everything moved in slow motion as the children jumped from their chairs and sprinted for the female assassin. Tiny hands clawed at Natasha's bare legs as they competed for the redhead's affection.
"Mama! Mama! Mama!" the children chirped.
"Hey, hey, hey," Natasha chuckled as she reached for the children, scooping them up in her arms. She placed a kiss on each of their cheeks before squeezing them lovingly. "Hi, I missed you guys."
"Mama, we missed you!" the little girl exclaimed.
"Daddy says we get to stay here now!" the little boy added.
"Yeah," Natasha agreed as she walked towards the table. She lowered herself into a chair, the children still attached at the hip. "Yeah, we're going to stay here for a while."
"But Mama, I left Teddy at the apartment!" the little girl whined.
"We'll have someone pick him up."
"Does this mean we can get a dog?" the little boy asked.
"No, we can't get a dog."
"But Teddy's all alone, Mama!" the little girl sniffed, on the verge of a crying fit.
"I'll call someone after breakfast. I promise."
"But having a dog would be so cool!" the little boy added.
"We're not getting a dog. End of discussion."
"Okay!" Clint interjected. "Back to your seats. Time for breakfast."
The two children slid from Natasha's embrace and returned to their respective seats at the table. Clint dropped a plate in front of each of the children and then slid a mug of coffee in front of Natasha. Natasha shot him an appreciative look from over the mug. The warm liquid slid down her throat, an almost euphoric feeling.
For the most part, the family ate in silence. Forks scraped against plates and toast crunched in their mouths as they savored the most important meal of the day. As everyone finished up, the children began to bicker, but Natasha put a stop to it immediately.
"But Francis is always stealing my food off my plate!" the little girl protested.
"Stop telling lies, Ana!"
"Enough," Natasha growled with enough authority and intensity to silence the children.
Following Clint's lead, she carried the dirty dishes over to the sink, adding to the collection from the night before. Curious, she stared out the window overlooking the back yard. There she noticed a new inhabitant. Nestled in the center of the yard was a brand new wooden swing set.
"So I guess Daddy finally caved and bought you guys that swing set, huh?" Natasha announced.
"Mhmmm, will you play with us, Mama?" Ana asked.
"Go get dressed and I'll meet you guys out there."
The children were out of their seats and up the stairs in record time, leaving Clint and Natasha alone in the kitchen.
It still hadn't settled in for both of them that this was their new normal, that SHIELD wasn't part of their everyday lives anymore. Not that they didn't enjoy being normal; they'd been living normal lives for years outside of SHIELD. But now that this was a full time thing, it seemed a little uncomfortable so far.
"You think we can do this?" Clint asked as he scrubbed a dish absentmindedly.
It was another question she'd thought about and hoped Clint would have the answer. But he'd surprised her once again.
"SHIELD will rise again," Natasha added bluntly as she dried a dish with a rag. "And when it does, we'll be there."
The rumble of tiny feet grew louder as the children came bounding down the stairs, dressed in the craziest ensembles Natasha had ever seen.
"Mama! Mama! Mama! Come on!" they cried in unison.
Natasha dropped the rag on the counter as the children pulled her to the back door. She quickly slipped into a pair of wellies and then clambered onto the back steps. The kids were racing each other to the swing set, but Natasha couldn't help but observe from afar.
She watched as the brother and sister duo competed over who could swing the highest, pumping their legs to gain the most momentum over the other. At one point, Francis smacked Ana on the arm and the little girl retaliated by smacking her brother on the back of the head.
Definitely our kids, Natasha thought.
After a while, Natasha felt Clint's presence behind her. She didn't exactly know what the future held for her, in terms of SHIELD. It had been her home for so long. But as she felt Clint wrap his arms around her lithe body, she knew one thing.
This was home now.
Falling at the hands of a perfect man.
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