Never once in a millions years had Natasha Romanov, master spy, master assassin, master interrogator, femme fatale, trained to handle any situation, thought she would be faced with this. There standing at her door with a boyish grin on his face, a playful glint in his eyes, and hiding something behind his back, was an overgrown nine-year-old pain in the ass.
A soft mewing came from behind his back and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. The glare she leveled at him had sent many a victim running scared, but his grin merely grew wider. He did, however, gulp nervously when she audibly pulled back the hammer of her hand gun.
It was just barely four months that they had officially become partners and two months since she was allowed to live off base; a freedom that she had never had prior to working for SHIELD. Between missions she reveled in her new found freedom; drinking her favorite cheap wine, eating whatever the hell she wanted, and watching old movies. And she did not like to be disturbed.
Where she lived was need-to-know. Fury and Coulson knew where to find her, but as far as she was concerned, her partner didn't need to know. But, alas, the sneaky little bastard was standing right in front of her, and was suddenly holding a little ball of fur in her face. To add insult to injury, the thing licked her nose. With a grunt of disgust, she leaped back and turned her glare on the offending creature.
Clint laughed in amusement and cradled the small animal against his chest, scratching it under the chin and giving it a kiss. "You should see your face right now." He said as he pushed past her and properly invaded her apartment. She imagined the look on her face probably translated to "what the fuck?" and quickly schooled her features to standard indifference.
"what is that?" she asked
"It's a kitten Natasha." He answered as if introducing something new to a small child.
Right. Stupid question.
Natasha let out a frustrated sigh. "Yes, I know that! I mean what are you doing with it? Better yet, what are you doing here with it? What are you doing here at all?" it wasn't until after the words left her mouth, she realized how much her voice had risen. This only ever seemed to happen around Clint. He merely flashed that damn smile once more at her and made his way over to sink down onto her couch, and propped his feet up on her coffee table; all the while cuddling that small ball of fur. The man was so damn aggravating.
With another frustrated sigh, she closed the door to her apartment and followed him into the small living room. He had pressed play on the movie she had paused to answer the unexpected knock on the door, made himself comfortable, and was now completely engrossed in watching Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire dance across the screen. All the while absentmindedly stroking the kitten.
She stared at him, at a loss for what to do, something that seemed to be happening more and more since he had met him. It made her uneasy.
She stood there awkwardly, frowning down at him. She had never been unsure of herself until she met him, at least not that she could remember. He constantly surprised her. She had assumed once that he had been bewitched by her beauty, like so many men before him. She had encountered men before that had fallen in love with her and offered to spirit her away from her life as a killer. Never once had she put any faith in them until Clint. He was unlike any man she had ever met. When she had tried to repay him with what she thought he wanted, he rebuffed her.
Working with him had been interesting. She had never had a long term partner before, and certainly never one that she had actually enjoyed working with. They complimented each other, in their methods, their fighting styles, their interrogation approaches. Together they easily work every angle. Their working relationship, she understood. It was smooth and uncomplicated.
Clint, however, insisted on complicating matters. He would start conversations, make jokes at inappropriate times, and generally act like a child. She did not understand how someone who could be so professional while on a mission could regress to the age of nine the second they were in the clear. And then there were moments like this, where he deliberately invaded her space. She never knew how to respond. She didn't know how to be someone's friend. She could seduce a man and reduce him to jelly, but befriend him?
He finally directed his attention to her standing there so obviously uncomfortable (another thing that had been happening more often, her emotions being obvious). He gave her a warm smile that somehow managed to calm her and patted the seat next to him. She hesitated briefly, before finally settling at the other end of the small couch. He picked up her glass of wine that she had been drinking and stole some before filling it up again and handing it to her. She took it gratefully, and forced herself to relax. They settled into a companionable silence while they watched the movie.
She must have dosed off, a testament to how much trust she had in Clint despite herself, because there was suddenly a tiny creature attempting to crawl up onto her lap. It mewed softly at her and butted its head into her stomach. She frowned slightly at it, and then lifted her hand to scratch it under the chin like she had seen Clint do previously. The little thing began to purr loudly, louder than she thought possible for such a tiny thing.
It leaned into her hand and fell over on her lap, rolling over like a dog to have its tummy rubbed. At this, Natasha giggled. A sound she had not made in a very long time. She was as surprised as Clint to hear the sound escape her lips. She gave the small fur ball in her lap a rare genuine smile and rubbed its tiny tummy like it seemed to want.
Suddenly aware of someone gaze, she whipped her head around to find Clint smiling that damn smile that made her feel like all was well, and that she was safe.
"I found the poor guy in an alley all alone." He said, breaking the silence. "and…well…I can't keep him in my quarters. Fury would have a shit fit. So…I was thinking…" he leaned toward her, and suddenly the nine year old was back and giving her the most pathetic puppy dog eyes he could manage. "please, please" he begged, "will you let me keep him here? I'll feed him, and clean up after him, you'll hardly know he's here." She couldn't believe she was actually hearing this; he sounded like a child trying to convince his mother.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Why not just get your own place off base? Then you could keep him there."
"Oh come on Natasha." He whined in an almost endearing way that only Clint could seem to manage. "Come on, we're friends right? Can't you do this one little thing for me? At least for a little while till I find a better home for him? Please?"
Friends? Were they friends? She supposed they could be counted as such, though she was no expert on the matter. Clint continued to give her the puppy dog eyes. She glanced down at the small thing in her lap. It's slight weight and warmth was strangely pleasant. She stroked him absentmindedly and he purred in pleasure at her ministrations.
Clint was still watching her with those big grey childlike eyes. "Come on, you know you like him. And look! He loves you already!" she scoffed. "Come onTasha! Look how cuddly he is! How can you say no to that face?" she looked back down at the kitten. And swear to God the damn cat was giving her the puppy dog eyes too! Clint seemed to notice it too because he suddenly began to 'voice' the cats thoughts. "Come on Tasha." He said in what she guessed was his best impression of a baby cat; "you won't kick me out into the cold dark alley all alone will you?"
At this Natasha frowned. There was a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach that she didn't care to name, so she pushed it to the back of her mind. Instead of answering, she merely sat there and continued to stroke the tiny animal.
Clint seemed to take this as an affirmative because he smiled brilliantly at her, and suddenly she was very glad she had not let the word "no" slip past her lips as her instincts called for. Still smiling he moved toward her, pulling her into a side hug and dropping an unexpected kiss onto her forehead that caused a strange fluttering in her stomach. "Goodnight" he said softly and then still smiling that ridiculously brilliant smile, he stood and left.
Long after he had gone, Natasha found herself ATILL smiling softly and stroking the kitten. Gently cradling the small kitten, she made her way into her bedroom. Laying the cat on the bed, she changed into a loose t-shirt and crawled into bed. She fell asleep quickly for once, to the sound a perfectly pleased little kitten lounging on the pillow next to her.