Chapter One - Raven
You would think that being the girlfriend of a superhero would be easy exciting and fun, but in reality, it's a whole lot of work to keep it together. It's especially hard if you're not the typical type of girl that people expect to be with a National hero.
My name is Raven Cole and my name is the most exotic thing about me. I'm 5'7" and 140lbs about 10 of which I could stand to lose. I'm over 40, have gray hair and blue eyes. I'm an RN in a small hospital. I don't have any special skills or extraordinary beauty. I honestly don't know why Clint keeps coming back to me. I'm hoping it is love, but I just don't know.
It all started about 2 years after the Loki situation was resolved. Clint and Natasha were on a mission in the little town where I work. I have no idea what the mission was or how it turned out other than that it had something to do with the Air Force base nearby. What I do know is that in the process of the mission both Clint and Natasha got a bit banged up. They showed up bruised and bloody at the ER of the hospital where I work. I didn't know until later how rare a situation that is. SHIELD is usually available to attend to the wounds of their agents, but this time they had to use local services.
Normally, I work on one of the upper floors with post-op orthopedic patients. That night we had a low patient census on my floor and so when there was a huge influx of patients into the ER the house supervisor had me go down to lend a helping hand. Looking back at the large number of stabbings, broken bones, and bullet wounds, I have a suspicion about the cause of the extra work.
Needless to say, I was totally out of my comfort zone and floundering around. I was trying to start an IV in one room and after 3 failed attempts the ER doctor first verbally removed certain parts of my anatomy and then commanded me to take what was left of that part in to the next room to clean up a couple lacerations. Of course he did this at the top of his formidable lungs. I was completely mortified and so went quickly to gather my supplies and head to my new patient.
I knew that my patient could not have failed to hear the doctor's diatribe, so I pasted a bright smile on my face and prepared to appear as competent, composed, and professional as I could. I enter the room and come face to face with the man of my dreams. I knew instantly who Clint was. I had watched every newscast and read every online story, profile, or bit of gossip I could find. I had a complete crush on Clint Barton which was rather unsettling for a mature woman, but I had figured it was harmless since I'd never meet him or anything. Now, here he was right in front of me. I summoned what little composure I had left to suppress my girlish squeal and giggle, opened my mouth the introduce myself, and promptly sneezed. Supplies went tumbling out of my hands and tears started running down my face, because this wasn't a cute little sneeze, but a full body, blow pieces of your lungs out your nose sneeze. My embarrassment was so complete that I froze and next thing I know this gorgeous bleeding man I'm supposed to be taking care of is on the floor picking up my scattered supplies. That unstuck my feet and sniffling and wiping my eyes, I dropped down to my knees to help. We got the supplies placed on the counter and in what little voice I had at that moment, I informed "Mr. Barton" that I had forgotten "something" and would be right back.
The truth was the only thing I had forgotten was my brain which had totally short circuited. I gathered my wits, blew my nose, and wiped my eyes before returning to clean up the various cuts and scrapes that Clint had. After a few minutes, my hands had quit shaking and the desire to cry had faded enough that I could speak above a whisper. I was even able to muster a smile at the doctor when he came to examine my work. He gruffly declared my job acceptable and assigned me to go on to the next patient. I cleaned up my trash and headed to the next room. I had the faint hope that I might get to see my patient again, but it was simply a fleeting fantasy of a torrid romance that rivaled any novel written. Reality asserted itself and the ER was almost clear so I was sent back to the floor where I normally worked. It was both a disappointment and a relief since I was much more competent and comfortable with my normal patients than I was with trauma.
The next morning at the end of my shift, I gathered my duffel bag, backpack, and purse and headed out to my car. I eagerly anticipated a good days sleep with plenty of sexy dreams about my dream guy. I knew my fantasies would be made all the more realistic by the fact that I'd actually touched and talked to the subject of them.
I tossed my bags in the trunk of my car and was preparing to close the trunk lid and walk around to the driver's door when a voice at my shoulder said, "Do you often transport bodies around in your trunk?"
I must have jumped 2 feet in the air. I smacked my head on the trunk lid and my knee on bumper as I whipped around to confront my "attacker."
"Holy hell! Ouch! Dammit!" I hollered as I rubbed my knee and blinked trying to clear my eyes of stars. "What did you say? Are you trying to kill me?"I snapped.
"If I wanted to kill you, I know a lot of easier ways to do it," was the reply. "I asked," the amused and somewhat familiar voice continued, "If you often transported bodies in you trunk, that duffel bag is large enough for at least one."
My head whipped up fast enough that it's surprising that I didn't whack it something again and my eyes came back in to sharp focus. For the second time I was face to face with the most gorgeous man I'd ever met and yet again I was looking like a bumbling fool. My professional instincts kicked in and I calmly replied, "I am so sorry I was rude. I usually work 3 days in a row and since I live over an hour away it is more convenient for me to sleep in an empty room than to try to drive home every morning.
"Since the beds are hard, pillows scarce, and blankets suck, I bring my own. Is there anything I can help you with?" I finished as calmly and politely as I could. I was tempted to babble on in nervousness, but managed to control myself and smile slightly.
"Will you go out to breakfast with me before you go home?"
"Excuse me?" I asked. I was totally baffled. Surely I was hearing things.
"Will – you- go- out – with- me?" came the slow deliberate reply.
Inwardly I cringed and outwardly I could feel myself blushing. Lovely, now I not only seemed stupid and clumsy, but deaf also. I wondered if there was a crack in the parking lot that I could crawl into. "Sure okay, I guess. When?" I stammered.
"How about now?"
"Oh okay, sure. Where? I need to get home soon though. I've got a long drive and it's been a long couple of nights," I wondered absently why I was acting so ditzy and being so difficulty. This was the man I'd fantasized about for awhile now. I should be jumping his bones, kissing him senseless, and begging him to, "Take me! Take me now!"
"That's fine. I have somewhere I need to be by 10 anyways," he shrugged.
"Where do you want to meet?" I asked.
"How about we take your car and I just drive us? My ride isn't here yet. There's a café just around the corner with some amazing omelets," was the reply.
I slowly handed my keys to Clint and walked around the car to the passenger side. I must have been walking slowly and not really paying attention because he was there before me with the door open and waiting.
I slid in the car numb and dazed by what was happening. Dozens of thought crossed my mind. Why was the amazing guy talking to me? I must look awful. Does my breath smell? Why did I give him my keys? Nobody drives my baby, but me. What will we talk about? How old is he? Oh my god! He is probably a lot younger than me. He does not look that much younger. I probably look ancient right now. I am so tired. What will we talk about?
Next thing I know, my card door is being opened again. Oh crap, we drove all the way here and I was zoned out the whole time. He probably thinks I'm such an idiot. Ok, take a deep breath and say something!
"I am so sorry. I must have zoned out a little bit. I'm kind of tired. It was a long shift. You can probably understand that. How did you have to stay in the ER?" I babbled like a teenager as I put my hand out for my keys.
"We only had to stay for a few hours," came the curt reply.
I was taken back. I guessed that I must have offended him by zoning out and then acting like a blonde idiot. "We?" I asked as we walked to the café.
"Natasha, my partner, was there too." He replied coolly
"Natasha? Natasha Romanov? She seems amazing and she's absolutely gorgeous. I wish I could have met her," I replied as we got a booth in the back corner. I quickly picked up a menu to cover my abrupt halt in inane comments and chatter. This was so not like me. I really needed to get a grip.
"They do have wonderful omelets here," I mused out loud as I looked at the menu. I was stumped on what to say next. I was vaguely disappointed at Clint's referral to Natasha. I knew it was silly. Everyone knew they were partners and more. What did I think was going on here? A romance? Not likely. Though how he knew when I got off work and why he waited baffled me. Most likely he had seen my car and wanted to drive it. I got that a lot. It was probably just a fluke that I owned it so he had to talk to me about it. Most men expected another guy to drive my girl. I still couldn't believe I'd let him drive it. I never let anyone drive my car.
My musings were interrupted by, "What will your husband say about you being gone so long? Don't you need to get home for your kids?"
I was shocked by both the censorious tone and content of the questions, "What?" I replied. "My son is married and living with his wife and daughter in Virginia. My husband died just about a year ago. How did you know I was married? I don't wear my ring at work anymore."
"You have pictures of 2 young children on your key chain and a pale line on your ring finger," was the reply.
I vaguely offended that Clint would jump to conclusions about me when he had a girlfriend, but couldn't help laughing as I realized exactly where he'd gotten his conclusions from. "I still wear my wedding ring much of the time. I'm a widow not divorcee. Those pictures are of my sister's kids. The only kids I have at home are furry and have four-legs," I finished with a wicked smile and chuckle.
Finally it was his turn to look confused and embarrassed, "Four legs? Furry?"
"2 dogs, 3 horses, and the occasional cat," I chuckled.
"I guess that means you're an animal lover," he said sheepishly.
"Nawh, I keep them around to annoy me. I don't want to be too comfortable at home," I replied laughing.
"Ouch. That hurt," he said clutching his chest dramatically. "I deserved that. It was a dumb comment."
I waved a hand casually and rolled my eyes, "No worries, hun. Give me a minute or two and I'm sure I'll make a stupid remark of my own."
"Cute," he said. "Really, cute."
I fluffed my hair and batted my eyelashes teasingly, "I try." We continued to banter back and forth. I was amazed that I was able to successfully stringing words into not only understandable comment, but witty ones. Usually it took me weeks to be this relaxed and casual with someone. There was only one other person that I had clicked with so quickly and I'd married him. I pulled myself up sharp at that thought. Whoa, Nelly. I thought. You are jumping the gun big time! Slow down. This is just breakfast. Nothing is going to come out of it. Relax and enjoy.
With that final thought firmly in mind, I did relax and enjoy. The time passed to quickly with the food and conversation both being amazing. I was just starting to feel my long night truly catch up with me when Clint looked past my shoulder and stated, "Here's my ride. I have to go debrief now. I'll see you around." With that quick statement, he got up and left. I was stunned. I looked out the window behind me to see a helicopter landing in the parking lot and after a brief pause to talk to an agent who got out of the helicopter, Clint got in and was gone.
I gave myself a mental shake, gathered my purse, and headed to my car. As I approached, I noticed the agent Clint had talked to standing next to the driver's door. He informed he that Clint was concerned that I'd be too tired to drive and that he'd been ordered to drive me home. He went on to tell me that there would be car following to take him back to base so I didn't need to be concerned with that.
I laughed and drawled in my best southern accent, "When hell freezes over, babe! Nobody drives my car but me. I'm used to the drive, honey, but thank you for the offer."
I proceeded to get in my car, put down the windows, turn up the radio to deafening, and head out the parking lot towards home. I indulged my imagination for the next hour until I got home and then with a sigh and a grin at my silliness I packed the memory up and relegated it to its proper place in my life experiences. I knew that despite my wishes and hopes this morning had been a fantasy. It was a dream come true and would never happen again. I know I'd never see Clint again. I was wrong.
