During Steve's absence Natasha managed to crack on with her English homework and begin the plan for the history assignment; it would be a lot easier with Steve here, after all he was a lot better at history than she was.

But for that brief 10 or 20 time period where she was alone with nothing to do and not being able to face the parents downstairs, Nat found herself fixated with that picture.
They had been 14 years old, two years ago, and at the town fair. It was mid September, right before they'd be returning to school and begin high school.

Natasha remembered how nervous they'd been, however they'd managed to push away their growing anxieties for one last night of - what they'd called then - freedom. She'd give anything to go back to those times...

A cough from behind alerted Natasha of Steve's return, it was only as her eyes travelled up his flustered, red cheeked, sweaty form that she realised she'd taken the photo frame from the wall and was curled on Rogers' bed with her fingers wrapped around the memory.
Quickly she placed it back in its place "Sorry."

He shook his head vaguely, "You seemed to be off in your own little world." he stepped fully into the room, retrieving fresh items from his Chester draws so that the statement could appear less intrusive if his back was to her.
Natasha tried to silence her gulp "I do that a lot these days."

Steve smiled back at her clouded eyes, underwear in hand. Natasha's cheeks went red "Oh, do you want me to leave so you can get changed?" she then scolded herself continuously as his flustered face turned a darker shade, Of course Nat, had to embarrass him in his own home.

Steve bit his lip "No, I'm just going to grab a quick shower. When I'm done we can start the history?" His eyebrow mid arch, Nat nodded somehow still unsure.

During his short shower Natasha interrogated herself: when had this horizon of awkwardness set? Yes, they'd both lost Ja...

Her thought was cut off, sliced in two as she heard a knock at the door. Her eyes picking up as familiar voices echoed from the hallway, No...no...no!

Natasha quietly ran to the landing, staring down the stairs and spying two slender figures, both wearing the same shiny mane of brown hair. Behind her the bathroom door opened, Nat's eyes glimpsing a toned muscular body like a silver coin in the compost.
It took all her willpower to not do a double take, instead focusing on the issue at hand; you can dream of Steve's six-pack later Nat!

Steve soon joining her on the landing - Sure stand closer to me barely naked - his ears piquing at the mundane voices. Nat questioned him crudely "Did you know they'd be coming?"
Steve shook his head viciously, the equal level of worry reflected in his eyes told her he wasn't lying; even if he was she could always tell.

They both flinched away from the sudden loudness of Sarah's call "Steve, Natty! Dinner!" To hide away from the possibility of being seen spying from the hall, the pair spun and stepped backwards. Now face to face, with Steve's chest a consistent distraction.
She could feel his toned muscles clawing for her attention and it took everything she had to not give in to the crave.

"I'm going to go get changed." He finally found his voice after his lips casually forming shapes but no sound escaping.
Nat kept her eyes locked on his in an almost steel stare - she couldn't even risk one small glance for fear the whole bridge would topple under the pressure of the nagging current, pulling her eyesight down - "I'll wait out here."

There was no way Natasha could face Mr and Mrs Barnes alone.
Steve of course understood and quickly retreated to his room, dressing in stealth speed.

Ouch, when had Bucky's parents gone to Mr and Mrs? Nat swallowed the lump rising in her throat, the last time she'd seen the Barnes it had been at the start of the summer when all had been well, after the accident she'd heard odd snippets or mentions between her parents. However she hadn't seen them in so long, Natasha couldn't put her finger on the reasoning, though.

Promptly, Steve returned offering a politely rehearsed smile. The pair then proceeded down the stairs into the lively living room and where rushed into stiff welcomes, Sarah then cornered the group into the dining room and everybody found their places.

At the head of the table sat Joseph, who had welcomed Nat with a warm hug, then adjacent to him sat Steve, Natasha and Nat's mum with one empty seat next to her. Then opposite those three sat Sarah, James and Barbra Barnes with one empty seat next to Barbra.
Natasha stiffed at the lack of two presences; James and her father.

Joseph then proceeded to say Grace which set Natasha's jaw on edge.

They'd always been a religious family, all of them...but when Bucky had passed...ever since the accident Natasha had struggled to find her reasoning for pouring so much energy and effort into the belief.

If there was a God, why would he punish them like this?

The family began chipping away at the cave of food Sarah had prepared for them, the majority of persons dependent on Sarah to fill in the frequent silences.

During the hampered evening Nat kept her eyes down, not immune to the attention she was attracting. Since she hadn't seen the Barnes in so long, her sudden divergence from the ambitiously cautious, always bewildering persona to this quiet, cornered animal must be incredibly stunning and somewhat unsettling.

Natasha's mum, seeing where this drowning dialogue was heading, trapped Sarah and Barbra into an immediate conversation as James and Joseph erupted in laughter at a concealed joke.
Steve leaned closer to Nat, his voice stirring her red locks "You okay?"

Natasha took several seconds to compose herself, only to assure her voice wouldn't give her discomfort - or her extended comfort - away.
"I'm fine...just," she tried to corrupt an excuse "We need to get this history done."

Steve nodded strongly, leaning back into his own personal bubble.

A disarming cough caught her previously stolen attention and Nat's vision flew to a patiently waiting Barbra, who seemed to be mainly addressing Steve and Natasha. "I know, these past few months have been a strain on all of us." Her hand entwined with her husbands' "But it really does mean a lot that...we can still do this, gather as a family and honour James' memory."

Mrs Barnes' eyes travelled over the empty space next to her, everybody else's glazed orbs following - the fact that opposite that chair was her father's deserted one made Natasha fill with a another nest of nerves.

Barbra continued strongly, obviously not having mourned her son, but having sheered enough tears to not let stragglers break through the boundaries. "Well, his birthday is coming up" Nat bit sharply into her lip "And we'd love it if we could all go out for diner or..." her voice broke abruptly and Sarah took her hand firmly.

"We'd love to!" At exactly that moment Natasha had had enough, she stood up, noticing all eyes looking at her; her mother's piercing her sharply. Hoping to cover for her, Steve jumped up as well, his hand resting on Nat's small shoulder knowing just how much his former best friend wished to remove it.

Steve stuttered "We've er...of course we'll be honoured to come and celebrate Buck's..." his voice raising a pitch and for a flinching second Natasha saw Steve's true face; the one he didn't let anybody see; the one holding the key to his pain.
"We just have some homework to be finishing, if you'll excuse us?" The thin line of Joseph's questioning brow softened a fracture and the two teens soon disappeared up the stairs, thankful for the excuse to shut the door.

"No!"

"I told ya, Stacey McGreenboggie has the hots for me." Clint burped loudly, taking another sip from his milk.

Nat wiped away the heavy stench. "Would you stop?"

He inquired "Or what?"

"Or I won't let you sit with me at lunch anymore."

Clint sniggered piggishly "Oh, because you've got a number of people waiting for that invitation, have you?"

Nat ignored him "And for the record, it's McGreenburg."

Barton shrugged nonchalantly, not caring who heard "Sure it is."

Nat hummed in false agreement "You sound as convinced as I am about her supposedly having the hots for you."
His hands fumbled over the air in exasperation, he chanted loudly "She does!" Natasha laughed wholeheartedly before catching herself, her smile quickly vanishing.

- This had sort of turned into a day to day thing, her sitting with Clint at lunch and giving him her leftovers. They were mid way into their second week back at school now, and at the beginning of the week Nat had even started bringing in her own packed lunch and still buying one from the canteen just so he could eat something. At first he'd strongly objected until Nat had threatened to inform Bobbi Morse of his growing affection. Not that he'd told her, at least not by that point in their bizarre pairing, but it wasn't hard to decipher.

Another tradition that was setting in stone was Barton's ability to make her laugh, not just a few polite chuckles here and there, but an actual Natasha Romanoff laugh (yes, one that occasionally chorused several snorts from her squinting nose and plump lips) -

Clint was also getting prone to this, not always hearing the reluctant sigh or seeing the light that brightened her eyes fade but just predicting that soon it would come to an inevitable stop.

Once again he pushed himself to ask, knowing if he kept up his persistence she'd most definitely spill...or punch him. Either way would portray progress though. He lifted his lean legs off the chair, following her lead as they headed off for Chem, "Why do you do that Tasha?"

- also a new ritual, Barton finding as many possible new names for her that he could that she'd still respond to. So far he was at five, sweet cheeks had been a sour blow (at Barton's face) -

She glided her way gracefully through the crowded hallways, neglecting the swards of laughing teenagers.
"Do what, birdbrain?"
Clint gritted his teeth at the nickname, he should have never told her he was part of the archery club and was referred to as Hawkeye by all members. He stared at her for several more seconds, waiting for it. "That! Right there!" He pointed as the amusement in her shiny orbs was literally concealed by the pressing clouds.

"You close yourself off, like you feel guilty for smiling."

"You're imagining things Barton."

"No I'm not, I know Natasha."

Her tone dripped in pitch "Is this like the time you knew the school was feeding us bats?"

Clint changed topics "Have you tried their lasagne? I'm telling you, it's bat in pasta!"

"No I haven't, I'm buying you food, remember?" Clint scowled at the reminder, then a gasp burst from his lips.

"Stop changing the subject Nat!"

"Then stop letting it be changed."

"Whatever okay, Nat I know you. I notice when you go silent and-" Nat stopped listening, her fingers running over the adjacent wall, they then turned into their Chem class and sat at their regular seats; Nat on the second row in the corner with Barton behind her.
Which during their first lesson he'd used to his advantage of getting her to talk to him by repeatedly kicking her chair.

Clint's droll was background noise, a constant ache, like a prick in her side - literally the description she'd given her mother when she first mentioned Barton - Natasha pouted her lips as the door opened and Bruce Banner wondered in, usually the first one to arrive to class.
He was in the seat before Nat, both friends waved kindly to the kind boy. Bruce motioned to the endless moans pouring from Clint's lips.

She turned back to her only friend, snapping "Shut up Clint!"

Clint paused his rant "Hey Brucie, good weekend?"

Exactly on cue Pepper Potts marched into the room with Tony Stark hot on her tail.
"Mine was ravishingly dull!" The rich kid muttered sarcastically.

Nat drew her eyebrows together, feeling her patience for today already at it's maximum elasticity "Really?" eyeing Pepper who took her seat next to Clint. Whilst Tony sat on the row behind.

Stark yelled from the back of the class as more students filled in. "NO! It was fucking awesome!"

"Mr Stark, detention for fowl language!" Tony, along with everybody else, stiffened and turned to the open door to see a grinning Steve with his hands raised in victory for his teacher impersonation.

"Not funny Rogers." Stark mumbled.

Steve then sat next to Bruce and finally Thor walked into the class, arriving just before the overly laid back teacher. Thor smiled whilst siting next to Natasha, not catching her dry expression and not smelling her radiating need to get out of this dull lesson.

Like any other lesson, Natasha left not remembering a single thing from the hour period. She'd just copy Clint's notes like usual. She sat next to Steve on the bus - or better put, he sat next to her - in silence as usual. Once they were dropped off at their stop he started talking, asking her about her day.

Natasha recited the day's dullness as if it were a shopping list drilled into her brain and then resumed rushing to return back to her house.

Letting Barton in was one thing, she was still undecided about whether it was good or bad that she'd done so.

But no way was she letting Rogers in or anybody else for that matter; with Steve it was too rich. The history was too much, the accident was as fresh in her mind as the smell oozing off the freshly cut lawn.

As if he could read her thoughts, Steve pondered "So you and Barton ha?" Nat turned, her hands clinging tightly to her library of books; knuckles white.

"Clint and I, what?" Her tone uncomfortably rude.

They'd both reached their destined destinations and now faced the awkward position of standing in front of their closed doors, waiting for the conversation to end before either could leave.

Steve's foot kept kicking stones and gravel across the drive, his hands clenched in his pockets, head bowed "You seem...close." Nat puffed out her chest, sighing in an exaggerated annoyance.

"You could say that." Nat began to wonder "Why are-" but was interrupted.

"We used to be close." Natasha's open mouth closed in a thin line of disapproval.

"Yeah, we did Steve" As painfully clumsy as it was to just be stood there, watching as the silence built staring statues around them, Nat didn't have the heart to look away.
Even as Steve retreated to the shadow of his front door and even after he had shut it firmly, Natasha hadn't moved. It was only then that Nat noticed the car parked in front of her drive way, the inelegant emotions she'd twisted to Steve's unusual revelation fleeing from her brain.

Natasha darted inside, the door only just closing behind her as she entered the gloomy lounge, curtains closed.

"Dad?" She called out; uncertain.

A sharp tilt of a bottle and the crashing sounds of moving liquid was her only response, she turned, squinting into the darkness and only just catching the silhouette of her farther.
He was hunched over, still in yesterday's business suit, dark shadows stalking his haunted eyes. Splinters of stubble growing from his chin, he stank; the stench clinging to his skin like aftershave escaping from the bottle of liquor he'd acquired in his hand.

Several deep swigs of the poison satisfied his thirst; he leaned further forwards, almost toppling over. "Natasha?" he called, his voice sheepishly wispy, Nat could almost see the tentacles of alcohol sticking to the air.

Nat moved forward, her shaking hand reaching for the near empty bottle. But a sharp jerk of his wrist had her flinching away as a waterfall of sorts landed upon her, draping her in the drowning odour of a run-down pub.
Natasha moaned loudly and abruptly she was pulled away by her mother who ushered her upstairs and whispered "I'll handle this" before slamming the door.

Moments later, Nat was dialling Clint's number.

Two beeps in a breathless greeting hit her ear "Hey, Tash."

Natasha's voice came out as a barely audible whisper "Clint?" she'd called him and yet she sounded unsure as to who she was speaking with, great!

"Yes...look Nat," a big puff of air "I'm kinda in the middle of something here."

Natasha cringed horribly "Eww, you're not having sex are you?" A cattle of snorts, chuckles and sneers responded; he wasn't alone and apparently neither was their conversation.

"No" his tone desperate to amend the slip up in events "Hey..." his ears must have finally detected the shudder in her voice, the occasionally hitched breath. "You alright?"

Natasha paused, and that was all it took. "Are you at home? I'm coming over."

Nat bit her lip, "No, no...it's fi-"

"Shut up Natasha, I'll be there in 10." he practically shouted, one final grunt escaping his lips before the call ended.