BlackHawk - Fan Fiction
Nightmares
She had been partnered with Clint Barton for over three years and yet nothing had ever really changed. Yes, they were close but never in a romantic sort of way. They had shared a bed together but that was mainly due to S.H.I.E.L.D's impressive stingyness when it came to money not personal choice.
She couldn't deny the fact she liked Clint though. With his muscular arms and chest and his tightly fitting uniform who wouldn't notice his good looks. His short sandy brown hair and deep stormy blue eyes that appeared to always see everything only added to his beauty in her eyes. That was one of her favourite things about him - his eyes. They changed colour slightly depending on the weather and his mood but her favourite was always the deep blue shade when he was extremely content.
She had consistantly imagined she would never feel like this. Never like those pathetic fools who surrendered to love. How had she not noticed her self starting to waver until it was too late? She had always had amazing self control yet she had not managed to stop herself falling for her partner.
She turned over in her bed sighing strongly. Just don't think about him now. She looked at the clock next to the bed. Great, it was already eleven. She only had a few more hours before she had to get up and train again. Just sleep natasha, sleep.
She awoke after a few hours of sleep, screaming her head off. Her fears were still very present. The red room and her russian captors. Three years had not been enough to heal her wounds. Her murdered family and broken childhood haunted her yet again.
She slid out of bed with a small thump against the solid cold floor, sweat flowing down her cheeks. Her legs and arms were shaking. She hoisted herself up using the edge of the bed trying to steady herself. She needed some company now.
She stumbled out of her room and down the hallway towards Clint's room. His door swung open easily as she had long ago memorised the codes he used. She staggered into his almost bare room knocking over a lamp as she passed by it. It clattered loudly waking Clint.
'Tasha?'
He hastily lowered the knife from her neck. He was always quick to act and a light sleeper.
'what are you doing here?'
His blue eyes sparkled in the low light showing real concern at her appearance in his room so late. She burst into tears as soon as she saw those blue waters and clung to him. His eyes widened in shock at her sudden show of emotions. Natasha never showed her emotions. Something was really wrong.
He slowly pulled her towards the bed letting her curl against him as they lay down. Her whimpering was starting to fade as she fell back to sleep. He let himself fall to sleep only after he was sure she was alright.
She awoke slowly as the light seeped through the curtains onto her face. She had slept well. It was oddly comfortable, not wanting to get out of bed which was unusual for her. She usually awoke with a start and was up a second later.
Wait… this wasn't her room. It was for a start deep purple in colour and there was a black bag proped against the right wall with clothes sticking out that were clearly a man's. where was she? She was suddenly alerted to the fact that someone was breathing against her forehead moving her scarlet curls somewhat. She reached under the pillow to grab her pistol but was hit with the emptiness that was underneath it. She was unarmed and in danger. She turned to see who it was breathing down on her and was relieved to find it was only Clint. The events of the night were starting to come back to her bit by bit.
He murmered in his sleep and pressed closer to her, his lips inches from her forehead. She slowly shimmied up towards his lips being careful to not wake him. She kissed him lightly savouring the taste of his lips. His eyes suddenly flicked open staring at her in shock as he registered what she was doing. She froze sensing his gaze, tensing all the muscles in her body at once. Both were now unsure what to do.
Natasha knew Clint wouldn't be the first to act as he had unparalled self control, so should she? But what if he didn't feel the same as she did? What if she ruined their partnership? Destroyed everything they had? There was just one line to cross and yet it seemed impossible to break.
The silence was defening. Clint broke it first.
'um tash … what … ur what was … um …'
She quickly silenced him with a finger pressed at his lips.
'don't say anything'
The line was straining against her will. Should she act? Should she not? He unexpectedly pulled her lips to his roughly, all pretenses gone. no more waiting and dancing around the bush. He was her hawk and she was his black widow.