Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any of its characters.
A/N: Finally another Avengers Fic! Hope you like it, please read and review! Sorry if anyone seems slightly out of character.
Chapter 1 - Remembering.
Natasha Romanoff sat at a picnic bench in a large park, steaming coffee in hand. She had decided to get away from Stark tower for a while. It had become the Avengers base, and although she was used to Thor's booming voice, and Banner's constant brooding, the one thing she could not get used to was Tony's dumbass jokes. Never mind the fact that just being around Clint was becoming exceedingly difficult.
The Russian scowled. She had come out for coffee to get away from all these thoughts, all these problems. She was a spy – a good one too, and she wasn't supposed to form attachments. The problem was she couldn't help it. Her partner's infectious smile and reckless behaviour had caught her attention, mainly because he was everything she wasn't.
Clint was fun. Natasha didn't know how to be fun. She had missed out on her childhood, and so fun wasn't really a normal thing for her. She honestly couldn't remember a single 'fun' moment in her life – until she met Clint, that is. Natasha ran her hand across her face and stared down at the splintering table she sat at. When did everything get so damn complicated?
Sighing, she took a gulp of her strong coffee and furrowed her brow. Personally, she preferred Vodka. She had never been a coffee person, but Clint drank it so damn much that she had gotten used to it. Now, she drank it instinctively. She groaned aloud. Why did everything remind her of him? She wasn't a child for God's sake; she was a high-profile spy and assassin. She wasn't supposed to become compromised.
It had crept up on her, however. One minute her concern for Clint had been purely professional, the next it had been entirely personal. She began to seek revenge whenever he got hurt, taking his injuries personally. She smacked her hand to her forehead angrily, repeating the action when the thoughts that were flying around her head refused to leave. She couldn't think like this. She wouldn't think like this.
The archer was probably looking for her right now. She smiled wryly. Whenever she disappeared like this he knew something was wrong. He could see right through Natasha's stony facade and if she was honest, it scared her. She was so used to being unreadable, unpredictable. But Clint always knew exactly what she was thinking, and could predict every move she was about to make. Sure, it made them a great team, but it also made them a liability.
Natasha glanced to her right and saw the flashing lights of Stark tower in the distance. She took in a deep breath, held it for a while, and then puffed it out all at once. She let her concentration slip, remembering little instances where her anger had flared up at Clint. At the time, she hadn't understood why, but now everything made perfect sense. She was angry, because he was making her care. And Natasha Romanoff did not care. About anyone. Ever.
Mostly, it happened over the most tedious of things. Things like going before her in stake outs to make sure it was safe, or sniping Tony's toast for her when she was hungry. It wasn't like she was mad at Clint for doing these random acts of kindness, after all they were pretty much second nature to him, she was mad at herself because she didn't deserve them. She snapped at him constantly and criticised him endlessly, yet he still hung around.
For the life of her, Natasha could not figure out why.
When they had first arrived at Stark tower, Clint had run straight for the rooms, securing the largest one at the back of the corridor. Natasha had followed him, and had grumbled once she had seen the room he had picked. The window was the only one on that floor that didn't have a massive building obscuring the view, and it had the largest en-suite bathroom.
Natasha walked into the large room that Clint had chosen and groaned upon seeing it. It was, undoubtedly, the best room in the entire building. It had a magnificent view, and one of the windows allowed direct access to a small platform that stretched out from the side as a mini-roof. It was the perfect place to escape to. It was also the furthest room away from Stark.
She glanced sideways at her partner, who was lounging on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head. He grinned back at her.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"Stop rubbing it in, Barton. We all know you picked the best room." She snapped back.
"Natasha, this is your room."
Natasha looked at her partner quizzically. She cocked her head to the side and frowned at him.
"What?"
Clint smirked. "I was looking at the tower when I spotted the mini-roof. I thought you might want it, so I ran ahead of everyone and got it for you."
Natasha stared blankly at him. The kind gesture was so foreign to her that she hadn't known how to respond immediately, and so, much to Clint's amusement, she had stood there opening and shutting her mouth repeatedly like a fish. Eventually, she dragged her gazed away from her feet and caught his eye.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For goodness sake, Romanoff. Stop getting sentimental," she growled out loud, causing a young boy that was passing by to drop his lollipop and run away, frightened. Great, now you've scared a kid. Natasha shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. If Clint could see her now he would make fun of her endlessly. She had never been great with children - and boy did he know it.
They were sitting on the swings in some park in Britain. They had just finished a mission, and Clint was taking the opportunity to relax a little before they went back to the Heli-carrier. Clint was swinging backwards and forwards, kicking his legs aggressively to make himself go higher – Natasha had bet him $10 that he wouldn't be able to swing over the top bar, and of course, being the defiant ass he was, the archer had risen to the challenge.
Clint was almost at the top when the chain buckled and he slammed back down to the ground, the swing stopping with a fierce jolt. He cussed loudly. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him and held out her hand, unimpressed. Reluctantly, Clint pulled out a $10 note and handed it to her. Just at that moment, a young boy had run over to them and stopped abruptly in front of Clint.
"Whoa! You went so high! Can you push me?" the child looked up hopefully at him and Clint grinned back.
"Sure, kid. Hop on." The assassin lifted the small boy onto the swing and began to push him, being careful to not push him too far. Natasha watched as her partner's face lit up every time the little boy demanded to go higher. She suppressed a smile. She never knew Clint was so good with kids, and it was damn annoying. Natasha hated kids.
"For goodness sake, Barton, Fury's going to send someone to pick us up soon, and instead of enjoying London, you want to push a little brat on a swing?" she hissed.
"Easy, Nat. This is relaxing." He continued to push the little boy, the cheery smile never leaving his face.
Natasha smiled at the memory fondly, but was soon snapped out of her musings when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. It was a text from the man himself.
Where are you, Nat? You've been gone for ages.
Typical, Barton. Smiling despite herself, Natasha rolled her eyes and pocketed her phone, not bothering to reply to the text. Nine times out of ten, she found Clint's constant worrying about her annoying, but it was nice to be thought of for once. Getting up from her seat, Natasha started the short journey back to the Avengers tower in order to put her partners mind at rest.
When she saw him, she smiled and felt a slight tightening in her chest. She swore under her breath, every time she saw him that feeling got harder to ignore. Upon seeing his smiling face, she felt a rush of affection for the archer. Not caring what the rest of the Avengers thought, she pulled him into a short, uncharacteristic hug. Clint froze in shock momentarily, but soon wrapped his arms around her. She could feel his face forming a smile against the side of her head.
When she stepped back Clint looked at her, confused but happy.
"What was that for, Tasha?"
"Nothing. I just missed you that's all."
Clint grinned. His day had suddenly gotten a lot better.