The wind outside tossed the falling snow wildly through the streets, obscuring the view from the window and dampening the faint light from the strings of decorations lining the building. Clint sat by the fire, running his fingers idly through the fur of the dog in front of him.
"I guess at least I get to spend Christmas with you, right Lucky?" The dog, hearing his name, moved his head to look up at him and thumped his tail against the ground. Clint sighed and turned his eyes back to the fire. He hadn't meant to be spend Christmas Eve alone. He'd gone to the Avenger's annual Christmas party, very much planning on enjoying himself, but Natasha's absence had hovered at the edge of his thoughts and after a while it had just bummed him out. She was supposed to have been back from her mission a few days ago, and he'd been looking forward to spending the holiday with her, but as of yet there'd been no word as to when she'd return.
He took another cookie from the tray and snapped it in half. Lucky ate up his half before happily taking Clint's as well. Wiping his fingers on the carpet, Clint sighed again and turned towards the window. "You think she's ok? I mean, it's Christmas, you'd figure she'd at least call."
The dog nudged his hand and whined softly, searching for another cookie.
"You're right, we're being dumb. You wanna watch a movie?"
He fell asleep on the couch ten minutes into Elf. He stayed where he was, curled up with his face pressed into the cushions, until a soft tapping sound dragged him back to consciousness. He sat upright with a groan.
"Santa?"
The tapping came again, a little louder this time and accompanied by a voice muffled by the wood of the door. "Clint?"
His face lit up as he recognized the voice, and he half fell, half clambered off the couch to get the door and pull it open. "Tasha!"
The woman in the doorway smiled tiredly at him. "Merry Christmas, Hawkeye." He pulled her into a hug, lingering for a moment longer than was necessary. She was freezing in his arms, and although she wasn't shaking and hugged him back tightly he could sense the lack of energy in her movement. Slightly concerned, he pulled her inside and shut the door. "How was the mission?"
"It was fine. Things got a little complicated towards the end, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle." She flashed him another smile. "Please tell me you have something warm to drink?"
"Yeah, sure." He waved a hand towards the couch. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll get you something."
He returned a few minutes later, a mug in one hand and a first aid kit in the other.
"What's that for? Did you stub your toe on the way to the kitchen?" He sat himself next to her, handing the drink over.
"I don't know how many layers you're wearing, but I can feel the heat from something through all of them." He reached out to softly touch her shoulder, and she flinched away. "C'mon, let me patch you up. What'd you do, cut it?"
Natasha shrugged, and pain flashed briefly across her face. "It's not much, or I would've had the paramedics stitch it. Plus, I kinda deserved it. " She breathed a laugh. "I let myself get tied up without a way to get out. Got stuck like that for a while." She looked up at the concerned expression on Clint's face. "Fine, you can put a Band-Aid on it." She set down the mug and pulled off her sweater. Underneath she wore only a tank top, making it clear why she'd been so cold.
"Jeez, Tasha. You trying to get hypothermia too?"
She rolled her eyes at him and turned to let him see her shoulder. Clint almost sighed with relief. He'd been expecting a lot worse, but for once it appeared she hadn't talked down her injury too much. It looked like a pretty basic knife wound, which he knew he could easily patch up. Pulling a disinfecting wipe from the kit, he continued questioning her. "So, how'd it actually happen?"
"The guy who eventually cut me loose was a little sloppy with his knife. It worked out in my favor when I had to take him out, though." She winced as she felt the needle pierce the already sensitive skin.
Clint frowned, both in concentration and at her story. "Well, as long as you got out ok. You almost made me spend Christmas alone, y'know." They sat in silence for a minute more before Clint straightened up. "Done. That feel any better?"
"Of course it doesn't you moron, you just stuck a needle into my back." She moved to sit close to him, leaning against his chest. "I forgive you, though."
He laid back at a light push of her hand, an eyebrow raised in slight surprise. She really wasn't the type to let anyone cuddle with her. "You're not gonna kick me off the couch?"
She rolled over to take the pressure off her shoulder, resting her head on his chest. "It's been a long week, Clint. Sometimes it's just nice to fall asleep with somebody I actually want to be near."
Clint felt a pang of guilt for teasing her. He reached over to grab the blanket draped over the back of the couch, covering them both before wrapping his arms lightly around Natasha and closing his eyes. "Night, Tasha. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas."
