Thank you to everyone who followed, alerted, reviewed. It makes me all happy. So, without further ado, chapter 2!
Disclaimer- The Avengers are not mine no matter how much I wish they were. *Sob*
Chapter 2- Natasha
It was a rare sight to see Natasha doing anything a normal person would do. And yet, the assassin was sitting up on her bed with a cup of coffee, flipping through the channels on the TV in her large room. She was sick.
Why am I sick, I'm never sick?! I'm a major assassin, and yet right now I feel useless because of a stupid cold. I'm supposed to be ready at all moments! She thought to herself. She couldn't even get out of bed; she felt terrible and lazy. For goodness sake, if someone was to attack her right now, she would be dead within a minute, at most.
Someone knocked at the door.
"Come in," she said, hoping it wasn't Tony. Tony was a pain up the butt when he wanted to be, and even if he didn't try to be, he still was.
Clint walked in, making her give a weak smile. They shared a special relationship; it wasn't really love, but something beyond words. They had worked alongside each other for so many years; they could tell how they each were feeling, just from looking at them or reading the other's body always had each other's back. Natasha had convinced herself love was for children, but maybe that wasn't true. Clint just made her feel special, but if it was love, she wasn't sure.
"Heard you were feeling crummy."
"Yeah, you might want to leave unless you want to get..." Her voice cracked, and she started to cough uncontrollably. Clint slipped off his shoes, put something that looked like an envelope on her bedside table that was covered with tissues, and sat on the bed, rubbing small circles on her back. She shivered at his touch. It felt amazing the way his hands felt, calloused from plucking the string of a bow. He got closer to her, and wrapped an arm around her, as she leaned into him, placed her head into the crook of his neck. Maybe she was a child, and maybe she wanted to be in love.
Listen to yourself; you don't want to be in a relationship. It's the cold, it's obviously making you thing different. That's it; it's the cold.
He was so warm. Natasha decided she could stay like this forever. She leaned in closer to him; surprised he wanted to be around a sick person.
"God Nat, you're really hot." Even though he said this, he didn't pull away.
"Yeah, but you're really warm, I'm freezing to death."
After the most amazing moments filled with silence (which both of them secretly wished had lasted longer), there was a shout.
"Barton!" Came Tony's voice from down the hall.
Clint scrambled up, wishing he could have stayed with Nat forever. "That would be the booby traps, he probably got stuck in one. Anyways, that, on your table, was a letter received in the mail for you. No clue what it is, but that robot Tony has scans mail for bombs and danger and stuff, so it's most likely safe. Better go before Stark kills me. Hope you feel better." And with that, he left.
The assassin picked up the envelope, a bit curious. The address was written in neon pink, and in handwriting that was obviously that of a young child's. She opened it, as a slip of paper fell out.
Dear Black Widow,
I am 7. Oh wait, I forgot to tell you my name. I am Amber. I like pink and live in Virginia. I go gymnastics, and I am a level 6. My coach says that's very good, because on my team I am the youngest, the others are 11 years old. On the news, I watched you, and it was amazing! You do all of the coolest flips; you must be like a level 1 million gymnastics person, if you did take gymnastics. It was really cool, because after you would do a cool trick, you would shoot somebody. I asked my mommy if I could have guns like you do to use in my gym, but she said no. She's a big party pooper.
The good news is that my coach, Mr. Valtress, said that if I do really good, he will buy me some pretend guns to play with. I wish they could be real like yours are, but like mommy, he said no. Maybe you could write a letter to tell my mommy why I should get real cool ones. It's okay if you don't though, I'll still like you. I mean, I will always like you, you saved the word, and with style. You know, you're really preety, I mean pretty, but your suit should be bright pink. But you don't have to, just an idea.
Anyway, I'm waiting for bad things to happen again so that I can watch you on TV. I'm gonna be you for Halloween, because no one else probably will. I wanted a really cool tight suit like yours, but mommy said for me to wear a black leotard with sweat pants. I hope that doesn't hurt your feelings. Thank you for saving the world. Because if you didn't, Tootise, my dog, would be dead, and I don't want that to happen. So thank you. You are my hero!
Love Amber who's seven.
For once in her life, the assassin's heart had melted from the work of a child. What a cute kid. A pink cat suit was a little out of the question, but the idea made her laugh. Maybe on her next saving-the-world, she would paint her nails bright pink, just maybe.
So, how was it? Let me know, 'cause I'll update quicker if you do. Sorry so short.