Natasha guessed it had started all those years ago. She would have been six or seven at the time. Looking up to her instructor, and interrupting training to ask hesitantly the question plaguing her thoughts.
"What is love?" She asked in Aristocratic German, the language she was learning at the time.
"Love is for children. Not you. Remember this." He spoke in Russian to further prove this point. No one was to speak outside of her current language to her if it was not of vital importance to understand.
"But I AM a ch-"
Natalia jumped as He cut her off "YOU ARE NOTHING BUT WHAT WE MAKE YOU!" Pausing to take a breath, he switched to German, speaking quickly. "Enough of that. Again." And he swatted her cheek as reprimand for pausing her intervals.
And that day the black widow had love cut out of her heart forever. Or at least, that's what everyone thought. Even her.
Until, one day, Clint shook her awake in the middle of the night, unfazed by the ensuing gun pointed at his temple. He just pointed to his lips as the archer dragged her out of bed. "I have something I need to tell you"
"Can it wait until morning?"
"We need to back by morning!"
"Back? Where are we-Clint!" She cut herself off with a whisper scream as he began to drag Natasha down the hall.
"Shhh! You wake the others you won't find out!"
Long story short, an hour later the pair of spies landed at a sweet farmhouse and Natasha was introduced to Laura Barton. At first, she was a bit confused at the couple and why she hadn't known. It changed as she saw them embrace and watched Clint speak to Laura's slightly-swollen tummy. She understood.
This was his world, his reason to fight. With a job like theirs, you needed one. And she was happy for him. Because (not that she would ever tell him this) she wanted it too. Natasha knew it was ridiculous, she couldn't have children. And they were who love was for anyway. But seeing them... she didn't know anymore.
Three days later, Clint in tow, the black widow adopted a baby girl. He signed off as the father, and the three went home.
"What should we call her?" The new mother asked from shotgun as she stared at her bundle of joy.
"Any ideas? She's your daughter."
Nat pondered that, and answered "something Russian."
"Just like you." She shot him a look "well she is similar... Natalia."
"Don't call me that" she glared
"No. No. No. She should be Natalia. Like you. A beautiful little Russian redhead."
"Fine. Natalia Barton." It was his turn to look at her, though he was only surprised at the surname, not angry. "You are the father. Give me this."
"...Fiiiiine... but what about her middle name?"
"Something for herself. Something to show she's not just a mini us."
"I agree. She can be herself if she wants. But she'll always be our little angel."
"That's it! Angel. Natalia Angel Barton."
"You know, I kinda like it. Let's tell Laura" and he parked the car.
heyo! first avnevgers fic. can i get a whoot whoot? no? ok, moving on
as you may be able to tell, this fic will only be updated when i get prompts as comments/pps. these can be anything. "natalia learning to ride a bike, bake a cake, do ballet, shoot an arrow" or something sad like "mom misses a dance recital bc mission." i love it all!
anyway, im very proud of myself. i came up with this idea at a party and had it typed up on my phone within the hour.
bye now, thx for reading (and reveiwing?)
rain.
