It had been a momentary distraction, a faint glimmer in the dark that was her horrible mood. She should have ignored it, just kept walking, and ignored it but she couldn't. How in the world could a small shop on the corner of a bustling street in Montréal remind her so much of her partner?
She stood there for a long time, debating what to do; when they were inseparable teammates, he used to pull her into these types of stores, after every op. He had this philosophy that if they bought just one small token from one of these small neglected shops, that someone would notice, then go in and come out something. Then he'd say they'd go tell their friends, who'd then go in, and come out with something also. Then he believed the owner would be able to keep their store and live comfortably.
She almost laughed to herself; she could just imagine the child-like grin swept across his face, urging her to follow him.
"Just five minutes, Natt, come on, it'll be just like every other time." He'd smile warmly, and she'd give in, letting him take both of her hands and lead her inside, while she'd laugh quietly. She knew his silly "philosophy" was impossible, and she knew he thought so too, but sometimes it was good to imagine that you knew a little something about the spinning vortex that was their universe and reality.
She guessed that it was just her being acquainted to going into these shops, but in the back of her mind, she knew it was something more than that.
She knew it was something deeper than routine.
She missed him, and his presence, and his laugh. He was off who knows where, oblivious to the fact that SHIELD no longer sanctioned his mission. And now no one knew where he was, he'd gone missing in action, and left her hanging.
As if some invisible force were present, she was pulled through the door and into the wood-paneled room. All the lamps were different, and the displays were like light clutter against the walls and tucked in corners. As she walked through the squished space, she ran her hands through the hanging stringed beads, looking up at the stained glass above her, imagining the bright lights of the cities they used to travel over and through together.
Clint. She whispered through her mind, reaching out to him, she wanted him to be here with her, she wanted to know he was safe. She wanted to see his beautiful blue eyes staring through her, understanding all she couldn't say out loud. He was the only person that understood her fear of making her feelings real, by saying them. He was the only one that understood what she could do, and all of her scars, because of his persistent nature, such as the waves against a rock.
She shook her head, and turned to leave the shop, they won't see me weak, not here, not now. As she turned, she saw a stack of first edition English novels, and almost choked, she remembered the first time she read North & South, by Elizabeth Gaskell, it had been per Clint's request, "Trust me, Natt, you'll like it."
"It's my favorite book," She whispered, feeling the tears well up behind her eyes, but couldn't take her eyes away from the book. She began to scowl, she found that pinching her face into an angry frown made it easier not to cry, and in a moment's decision, she grabbed the book off the top of the stack, and turned sharply, to stalk off to the counter.
She only stopped momentarily to slap money down onto the counter, and take her change, and the old woman looked up at her, "It will all be okay, my dear," she said softly, putting her hand over Natasha's and staring into her lonely eyes.
"Thank you." She whispered, looking at the counter, avoiding this woman's kind eyes, because she'd become ashamed of how she didn't trust this honest woman, she'd become so twisted inside that she believed that behind every kind stare, there was a hidden agenda.
Then after a moment of unfilled silence, She turned slowly and left the store, feeling more lost than ever, I can't show them my fear, She shook her head softly, and began to run. She knew where she was going, and she knew how she would deal with this.
The elevator was moving too slowly, so she ran up eighteen flights of stairs to the SHIELD safe house she'd made her new home. Once she closed the door behind her, she fell against it, and closed her eyes, to cry silently, without any tears. That helped her calm down, not showing weakness ever was tiring, and she knew she couldn't keep up the charade for much longer, but right now she'd be safe. She pulled the book closer to her, and stayed there for what seemed like minutes, but were hours. She got up and shrugged her coat off, and curled up on her couch and began to read.
She must have been gripping the book so hard that the small piece of silver didn't slip out from in between the pages qt first, so you could imagine her surprise when it fell into her lap. She picked it up, and held it at arms length, fearing anything could come from this piece of jewelry.
But of all, things, it was a silver arrow, hanging horizontally on the chain, glinting dully against the evening sun. She threw it across the room as if it were a ticking bomb, set on exposing what hid behind the wall she'd built around her tender heart. She left it there for a long time, but then came to realize foolishly that it might be some kind of sign, so she picked it up, and gently closed it around her neck, and immediately felt energy race through her body, knowing that she couldn't hide here forever.
It was time to go back.
SHIELD has fallen, SHIELD has fallen, SHIELD has fallen, SHIELD has fallen, SHIELD has fallen...
Maria's words echoed in his head, bouncing around his scull, and causing his ears to ring. What am I supposed to do now?
Although there was a lot of commotion around him, his footsteps seemed very loud and heavy against the metal panels in the floor of the Triskellion basement, while faithful SHIELD agents ran around trying to scavenge what was left of what they used to know so well; what they trusted enough to risk and give their lives for.
It was all for nothing.
Well, maybe not all of it, his eyes scanned the crowd from a balcony, and spotted her. Her hard expression was nothing new to him; it was like coming home, home to something he couldn't seem to live without.
The next thing he knew, he was running down a staircase, pushing past people who were carrying crates, and bins, muttering various forms of "sorry". He pushed through the crowd, noticing how scared these people looked, and how it was making him fear the future more than he had ever done in his life. When he found her, her back was turned to him, and he stood about ten feet away from her, assessing her mood from her stance, and he could tell their despair was wearing off on her too.
"Natt," He said, nearly choking, if she only knew how many times he dreamed of her in that basement under his target's house, if she only knew that the only thing that had kept him sane was how he knew that he had to return home to her, to make sure she was safe, to make sure she'd keep him safe as well.
She turned abruptly, and had a slightly surprised look on her face, "Clint," He began to walk briskly towards her, when he reached her, all they could do was stare at each other, until she reached out and stepped closer to him, tracing a cut that ran down the side of his face. She seemed to notice a minute mark in his face that showed his grief. "What's wrong, Clint?"
"I've come to realize that no matter how brave you are," She cupped his cheek, and they pretended like there was no one else there, but everyone else was too caught up in their own dismay to notice the moment occurring between the two hitmen, "there's still a home you want to return to, and my home is gone."
She nodded, she knew exactly what he meant, he could see it in her eyes, but neither of them were ever used to saying much, so he wrapped his hands around her waist and hugged her tightly. He had no foolish fears of her floating away, because they were each other's constant, an island in the null that enjoyed pushing and pulling them wherever it pleased.
"It may be gone, but you've still got me." She whispered into his ear, and he struggled to suppress his surprise at her intimate words. He pulled back to look into her eyes searching for something, and all he found was a strange, newfound, desire in her gray eyes.
He'd noticed the small chain hanging against her collarbone, but now he saw it was an arrow. He leaned into her hand resting against his face, wrapped his hands around her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her. She looped her hands around his neck, and leaned into him, and for once in these hectic 72 hours, she was happy. They didn't care if there were a lot of people here, because SHIELD had fallen, and they could finally be with the person they loved.
Please R&R and if you have any prompts for Clintasha stories and such please don't be afraid to ask because I'm open to any ideas, because I'm stumped!