Disclaimer: I do not own the MCU or it's characters. I just really like to borrow them.

Author's note:

Well hello again. This took me way longer than I wanted. I had a few ideas but whenever I started writing I didn't like it. But I like this, so here you go.

I still don't have a Beta, because everyone I wrote to hasn't answered me yet so please try to ignore minor mistakes and if there a huge mistakes like in vocabulary or something please tell me, so I can correct them.

If you have any suggestions what I should write about I am happy to try. So go ahead. And now enough with the talking. Enjoy

Chapter 2

Who the hell doesn't like cake

"What's this?"

Her voice is not amused, Clint can tell the second they both enter the room.

"It's a cake, stupid", he grins at her trying not to be intimidated by her dead look.

"And there is a cake, because...?" He pouts at her, not sure if she is playing him. "Because it's someones birthday today!", he exclaims. Her face is suddenly hard and he is worried for a second. Is she surprised that he knows? That he got her something? Maybe even angry that he mentions it?

"Birthday", she repeats in a dead voice.

"Yes", Clint answers, the cheer gone from his voice. This is not how he has planned this and after seeing her reaction, or better the lack of her reaction, he is happy he hasn't made Coulson, Hill and a few other agents appear for a surprise party. "It's the 20th of May. That's your birthday. You are turning 22 today, Romanoff."

Her face becomes soft and she licks her lips. She takes a breath and her look is that of someone who has to explain something really simple to someone really dumb. Immediately Clint is annoyed by this look, he knows it too well because she likes to lay it upon him whenever she can. She opens her mouth to say something but he interrupts her. "Don't start lying to me! I checked it in your file. It says the 20th of May! Today is your birthday!"

"Barton. That is a birthday the Red Room gave me to put it in my fake ID's. That is not my actual birthday. I just went with it, because..." Her voice drifts, her face suddenly hidden in a mask again. "Because...?", Clint tries to push her but she remains silent and gazes at the cake and suddenly it hits him. "You have no idea when your birthday is?" She shoots him a quick gaze and he can't read the emotion in it. Is it fear, hate, sadness, frustration, annoyance?

"No."

Her statement is simple, her voice steady.

"Those things are not important for the Red Room. It doesn't matter when you started existing, the important thing is you do exist." She sits down on a chair and pulls from somewhere on her body a knife. Carefully she puts it face down and lets the pointy end touch the table. Then she starts to spin it.

"Do you know the year?"

She nodds. "Yeah. Well...though it isn't sure I guess. I was an orphan when they took me from the street. The doctor that was checking me over believed me to be three, so they did the math...might aswell have been four, who knows." She shruggs.

Clint can't wrap his head around this. He can't understand why she is so cool about this. She can read him like a book in this very moment and smiles.

"Barton come on, it's nothing to be shocked about." She flips the knife and suddenly it is gone, back where it was before, wherever the hell that was.

"It's just a day people celebrate. I don't even get why. You celebrate that your death is one more year nearer at your doorstep. Actually that's really morbid, don't you think?", she continues.

Clint shakes his head. "That's not what birthdays are about. It actually isn't so much about what the person who is aging celebrates. It is about everyone else. It's about the people celebrating with you. They celebrate that you are there, they celebrate the time they can spent with you. That's what birthdays are about! They mean it's nice that you are there."

There is a flicker of something in Natasha's eyes...longing maybe before the mask is back in place and she smiles ironically.

"Well and there you see why we didn't get to celebrate those in the Red Room. No one was really happy to spent time with me."

"Well I am!", Clint exclaims almost stubbornly. She rolls her eyes. "Don't get all emotional on me, Barton. That doesn't suit you." She pushes herself up and moves over to the door stopping infront of him. "Well, now you know. You don't need to remember this day. Not my birthday. A day like any other. " She presses her lips together and her eyes flicker uncertainly for a second.

"And uh...by the way. I am not a fan of cake. But thanks anyway I guess." She nods a little to herself and then opens the door. "I'll go and take a few rounds on the sparring mat with a few agents that are brave or stupid enough to try me."

With a last dry smile she is out the door, leaving Clint alone with an untouched cake and a turmoil of thoughts.

A few month later Clint knocks on her door. When she opens she rolls her eyes. There is another cake in his hands. "Barton, are you concussed? I think we have a Dejavu here."

"Shut up and let me in!", he tells her and she steps aside. He puts the cake on her table and turns around. She leans at her closed door, arms crossed over her chest and eyebrows raised. "Okay, so just let me say this without you being a smartass about something, okay?"

She pouts but nods her head and he takes a deep breath.

"So, I'm not okay with you having no birthday. Birthdays are important days whether you like that or not. So I'm going to give you one." Natasha wants to interrupt him but he raises a finger and looks at her warningly.

"I don't care if you want it. I told you before birthdays are not for yourself but for everyone else around you who want to celebrate that you are there. And believe it or not, I liked you having my back for the last year, so I decided your birthday is the day you joined SHIELD. Which is today. Surprise!", he adds and smiles goofily. "It is also the day you decided to be Natasha rather than Natalia so it really kinda is a birthday."

She stares at him obviously not sure what to say.

"I know this doesn't mean much to you and that is fine", Clint continues. "And I am not going to make a big deal out of it but I also won't let it go by unnoticed. So, here is a cake. There will always be a cake and there will be more when you're ready for that." He shuts his mouth waiting for her to respond but there is nothing. Unsure about her reaction he takes a deep breath and smiles.

"So, um...I guess Happy 22nd Birthday, Romanoff! Oh and I don't care if you don't like cake. Everyone gets cake and seriously, who the hell doesn't like cake?" And then he presses past her and out the door again, secretly kind of surprised he is still alive but also pretty content about what he did.

Inside Natasha stares at the cake. A smile tugs at her lips as she steps forward producing again a knife from nowhere and cutting a piece.

"идиот", Natasha whispers and then takes a bite. (Idiot)

From that day on the 1st of October is Natashas birthday. She doesn't know yet that in a few years she will really enjoy having a party with Clint and his family and a few years after that even with some stupid folks called the Avengers. She doesn't know yet but it's fine, because she will get there. For now it is Clint and a cake.