"Reverie"

I don't own the characters, … Don't sue… All hail Marvel... (But seriously, Fraction, DeConnick, Spencer, Marvel, etc: I'll let you use my stuff if you want, for FREE!)

This is a one-shot & it's rated T for swearing.

This is a re-post. I got my Black Widow comics in the mail and discovered that Rose was not Bucky's child. Oops. So I had to change that. Sorry.

xxxxxxxxxx

(reference the beginning of Hawkeye #8. Natasha's perspective, current tense.)

Okay, this is a little strange…

A cute blue-eyed redhead in a skimpy dress is kissing Clint Barton at the door of the Avenger's mansion. Clint just dropped all the cards he was holding and he's looking back at us. He's not kissing her back at least, but that doesn't mean he hasn't in the past.

"Ah… this looks bad, right? In my head this looks bad."

I promptly put a smirk on my face and respond. "That depends."

Clint's current girlfriend, Jessica, isn't fairing as well with staying calm. Clint's ex-wife, Bobbi, almost seems impressed.

The red-head goes into some sob story… (look at her body language, subtle facial expressions, eye dilation, can't see any artery from here…) and it's not entirely true…

"Hold it. What's your name? You SHOT somebody?"

NOW what have you gotten yourself into, Barton?

"You can't be here." I redirect my glare to Clint. "Clint, she can't be here. This is a police matter, this.."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a sex.."

I raise an eyebrow. Hmm. ( Look at HIS body language and posturing, subtle facial tells, eye dilation…)

"…sec… Everybody be COOL." He starts ushering her out of the building.

Yep, he's had sex with her at least once. And fairly recently...

"I'm gonna take care of it. Okay? Okay. Just be cool."

They leave and us ladies just stand there for a second. Bobbi is the first to speak, rolling her eyes. "Clint Barton, ladies and gentlemen. The ever-unchanging Clint Barton." She would know.

Jessica looks defeated. But, oddly enough, not entirely surprised. "Son of a bitch…" She slams the door and stomps up the stairs. I feel compelled to do, something…

"Jessica, wait…"

"Oh don't you talk, Natasha Romanov! Don't you talk to me at all!" She stops and turns, her anger aimed at me now. "Don't think I haven't noticed! Always partners, always working together. You two know more about each other then I know about my own mother. You're always having little conversations with each other without even saying a word sometimes, and he's always there for you with all your crap and now THIS?" She waves her hand towards the door.

She squints her eyes at me. "Red hair, blue eyes, pale skin…"

uh oh, she's not only describing MY physical appearance…

"Think he's got his "Nat" on the mind, much? Hmmm, Natasha?"

"Jessica, please, just…"

"Oh shove it. I'm out." And with that she continues up the stairs, leaving Bobbi and I alone.

I sigh and put my hand up to my forehead.

Bobbi puts an arm around me. I allow her. "Come on, Natasha, let's get something to drink."

Three shots of vodka for me, and one Sangria for her later, she starts to speak.

"Don't worry about Jessica. She'll get over it. Not like that wasn't falling apart anyway."

I pour a half glass of cranberry juice and grab the vodka. "Sometimes this gig can be so much like…" I pause, thinking.

"High school?"

I frown. Neither Clint nor I ever experienced that particular rite of passage. "Sure."

"Yeah. Try being married and an Avenger. It doesn't seem to work out so well."

I look down. "Bobbi, I'm sorry…"

"No, don't worry Natasha. I've moved on in my life. So has Clint. It's fine. It's just…" she looks off into the distance, at nothing. "Don't you ever wish we could just have normal lives?"

I furrow my eyes brows, expressing the question I feel. She continues. "You know. Married, kids, dogs, house, the whole works?"

I think for a moment. That type of life has never really entered my dreams. I'm just happy when I can go a few nights without my dreams turning to nightmares, the innocent dead haunting me as I scream.

Instead of telling her the truth, I smile a little. "I suppose it would be nice to have a little more… normalcy, in my life. But Bobbi, given my past, I'm not really the one to ask about the American dream…"

She nods her head. "Yeah, sorry about that. But you would want… something, some day, right Natasha?"

I pause, as if in thought. "I suppose so."

"What about kids?"

I clench my jaw and steel my face. I really didn't want to be reminded of that right now. "Kids and I don't really work out, Bobbi."

She cocked her head to the side, confused. "You… don't like kids?"

I try to squeeze out a polite smile. "Thanks for the drink Bobbi. I really do appreciate it. But, I gotta go. See you soon, I'm sure."

I catch her face as I leave to return to Avengers tower. She was trying to be nice, and she's confused. I just can't find the energy to care.

I push my car to its considerable limits as I race to the tower. I pretend it's the sharp wind that causing tears to stream down my face.

xxxxxxxxxx

(sometime later, probably after Age of Ultron stuff. At Clint's apartment. All-knowing reader's perspective, past tense.)

"Come on you guys, it'll be fun!"

Clint and Natasha look up from the pizza they're eating at Clint's counter to glare at Kate Bishop. Ever since the food had arrived she'd been trying to convince the two Avengers to accompany her to a club where she was going to meet up with Marvel Boy and Loki. Clint was tired (and beat up, as usual) and just wanted to watch a movie and relax. Natasha was suspicious and feared a set up from the god of mischief.

"Fine, I'll go alone! But if you're making out on the couch when I get back I'm posting it on Facebook!" Kate stormed out of Clint's apartment, slamming the door. Lucky awoke, and trotted over to Natasha to beg.

Clint moaned as he rose to put away the leftover pizza. His back was acting up again. He flopped down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. Natasha looked up from scratching lucky and raised her eyebrow. "Are you trying to call the dog?"

"Come on Nat, let's watch a movie."

"I'm not sure I'd trust your selection."

Clint held up a DVD. "I've got X-Men Origins: Wolverine…"

A small smile crossed Natasha's face, and she walked over to the couch, tossing Lucky what was left of her slice of pizza.

Clint chuckled as she sat next to him and curled up in a blanket. "I'll never understand how you can watch this crap. You know these guys. Logan looks nothing like Hugh Jackman, and Wade…"

Natasha snorted.

"Well, enough said about Wade. How can you stand this, Tasha?"

She shrugged. "Eye candy."

Clint's jaw dropped. "WHAT? Eye candy?! But… it's so fake… and… Logan's so short…"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Come on, cupid, you offered…"

"Fine, fine," Clint sighed as he loaded the disk.

They spoke intermittently during the movie, about recent missions and goings-on in the tower. As the minutes ticket by, Clint seems to get more fidgety and nervous. Natasha picked up on it.

"Spill it, Barton."

He looked over to her, attempting to feign confusion. "What?"

"You know what. Whatever is on your mind that's bothering you. Spill it."

Clint knew better than to deny what the Black Widow already knew. So he told her.

"I ran into Bucky the other day."

Natasha sighed and put her head in her hands. Why was everyone always telling her about Bucky? Why did they think she even WANTED to know? Wasn't she supposed to have lost all her memories of him last anyone knew?

"Why do you think I care, Clint?"

"Well," he rubbed the back of his neck, "he asked about you. How you were, how your memory was doing…" his voice trailed off in a half-question.

She grabbed the remote, paused the movie and stood. She started to pace.

"Nat?"

"Why is everyone always pushing about my memories?" Her voice was raising now. "All the experts said the memory loss was permanent! Why does everyone keep pushing me about it?"

Clint leaned forward, reaching out to her. "It's ok Tasha, I believe you. Your memories are gone and I won't ask you about it again." He tried to give her a reassuring smile.

Natasha stopped in her tracks and lowered her head. She sighed and sat back down. "The memories have been back for several weeks now, Clint."

He sucked in a breath. But that meant all their recent (flirting? Could you call it flirting?) was going on while she had her memories? Was she considering...?

Clint pushed the possibilities from his mind and focused back on Natasha. It was obvious she needed her friend now. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Tell me, Tasha."

She looked down. She allowed the confusion, turmoil and sadness to seep onto her face. "Why…" she paused, and swallowed. Were her eyes a little misty? When she continued her voice was barely a whisper. "Why wouldn't I tell him about her, Clint?"

Clint furrowed his brows, uncertain for a moment. His heart sank when understanding came. He spoke quietly, and gently. "Rose?"

"Yeah."

"You never told him?"

She shook her head.

Clint was confused. Hadn't they been very close? "Why?"

Natasha snorted. "Yeah, well, you WANT kids someday, Clint." She thought a little more before she continued. "I guess I worry he'd… hold it over me…"

"He'd never blame you Natasha! Hell, he'd probably blame himself!"

Natasha snapped back. "I know that, Barton." She squinted her eyes and cocked her head to the side. "And why are you defending him anyway? You were never great friends…"

Clint sighed, and rubbed his hand behind his head. "Well, I remember what it was like all those years ago." Natasha's look changed from suspicion to confusion.

"I remember all those years ago, being hopelessly in love and just…" she watched as he his entire body slouched. "…left."

"Oh. That."

"Yeah."

She put one hand on his leg in an attempt to comfort him. "I… never did explain myself Clint…"

He stood suddenly, interrupting. Now it was his turn to pace. "No, no, Nat, there's no need. It's water under the bridge. I don't even care why. You're here now and you're my friend and I trust you with my life."

He stopped pacing, and re-established eye contact. "I'm just saying, I can understand what the man's going though." They took a moment to pause the heavy conversation. Then he looked at her.

"But… WHY aren't you telling him that you remember him now?"

She sighed. "I don't know Clint, I just, I guess I'm not ready for all that…"

"You… don't you want him back? Didn't you love him?"

Natasha broke eye contact and looked away. "Yes, I know I did, but…"

Clint held his breath. His heart rate spiked. He sat back down, next to her. When he spoke it was barely audible. "Not anymore?"

Natasha furrowed her brows. "Well, I still experience the emotions, but… so much has changed, and…"

Clint swallowed audibly.

"… and I've been thinking about the way Bucky and I were. Or, the way we weren't, perhaps."

She put her head down, and Clint's heart sank. It was difficult seeing her in this pain and confusion. Clint put his hand on hers. "It's ok Tasha…"

She stood. "It's okay, Clint. I'm just… still trying to sort things out in my head." She bent down and scratched Lucky's head. "I think I'm going to go back to the Tower. Get a little time in at the range." She quickly moved to the door, not looking back. "Catch ya later, Barton."

She shut the door.

Clint just starred at it for a while.

Lucky trotted over and put his head in Clint's lap. "Yeah," he sighed, and started scratching Lucky. "Catch ya later, partner."

The End.

xxxxxxxxxx

Have any thoughts? Comments? Ways to contact Fraction or DeConnick? (ha!) Am I correct in that Natasha never told Bucky him being Rose's father in the comics? Thank you to my awesome betas bouncingcrow and Dani9513! Hope you enjoyed this little story. Hope even more than it shows up in the comics! Please take a moment to review.