Clint and Natasha had been sitting in the parking lot of their rundown apartment complex for the last twenty minutes, Clint staring at the building.

He owned this building.

Literally.

He had moved in when he joined SHIELD, and had grown to care for some of the people he lived with. So when the drug lords who owned his building then gave everybody a generous one hour notice to pack up and move out, Clint dipped into his blood money for the first time since he had vowed not to and purchased the building from them. That's when Phil had met Juliana.

Juliana Adestello was a woman who lived in his building, on the seventh floor, with her four year old daughter, Isabella. Phil had met her two years ago, when he had come to royally kick his agent's butt for a disrespectful debrief that got him kicked off the base by Director Fury himself.

They had gotten in a screaming match at two in the morning and Juliana had showed up, hair a disaster, with the most annoyed expression on her face, and her, at the time, one ear old daughter on her hip. The gutsy woman had taken one look at the drawn guns and man-in-suit and surprisingly had paid them no attention except to reprimand them for their rude, loud and disruptive yelling.

Phil had apologized profusely and Juliana had pushed her hair back, moving Izzy across her body to her other hip. Clint had chuckled outright when Juliana had sized his handler up with an unimpressed look.

"What's your name, soldier?" she'd asked cautiously.

"Phil Coulson, ma'am." He answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well Mr. Coulson, you're buying me dinner. And paying for the babysitter." She'd told him firmly.

"Jules likes her sleep." Clint had interrupted, earning a glare from Phil. "I can watch Izzy." He'd added.

Phil had looked at him pleadingly begging his friend for help.

Clint's chest tightened at the memory and his fingers twitched in Natasha's hand. She looked at him and pursed her lips contemplatively.

"Want me to stay or go?" she asked simply, he glanced around his seat at Aleksandra's car seat.

"Come." He answered shortly before silently getting out of the car. He scooped Aleksandra out of the back and ushered Natasha inside ahead of him.

He swallowed thickly and squared his shoulders before knocking lightly. A dogs barking sounded on the other side of the door and a faint smile curled at Clint's mouth.

"Momma!" a familiar voice squealed. "Momma whozit?"

"Non lo so. Lucky, down." That was Juliana. He stiffened and only relaxed when Natasha's hand brushed seemingly accidentally across the width of his forearm. But she was the Black Widow. Nothing was accidental.

"Clint!" Juliana gasped in surprise.

"Hey Julia." He smiled. "Long time no see." He flashed the older woman a boyish grin and bounced Aleks in his arms as she whimpered.

"No kidding. You're in trouble young man. Not as much as Phil will be in, but still." She rolled her eyes and laughed, stuffing the hand that wasn't being occupied holding open the door deep in her sweatpants pocket. "Natasha, how are you doing, little Miss Russia?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. Natasha flashed a pretty smile and shrugged.

"As well as can be expected in our line of work." She smiled wryly. Julia nodded and waved them inside, gasping when they stepped out of the dark hallway.

"Is this…?" she smiled widely, staring at the red, white and blue baby blanket.

"Aleksandra," he finished.

"Clint, she's gorgeous."

"That one's all Tasha." The archer chuckled as they made their way through the hallway. Upon hearing a familiar dog's bark for the second time, Clint handed Aleks off to Natasha just as his dog bounded around the corner and slammed into him.

"Hey bud. Ya miss me?" he asked softly, rubbing his dogs head.

"Clint!" a small girl shouted, as she too launched herself at the assassin. It was seeing Clint was Izzy that had first convinced Natasha that he was lying when he said he didn't need kids, not only was it a lie but he wanted them. Desperately.

"Hey Firecracker. How's it going?" he laughed, picking the four year old up off the ground.

"Where've you been? You fugaht us." She lisped in frustration.

"Never." Clint winked. "You been taking care of Pizza Dog for me?" he asked with a wide smile. Izzy nodded vigorously.

Juliana fell back beside Natasha and watched the boy she'd learned to care about like a son play with her daughter. Izzy's peals of laughter died down not much later and Clint sobered immediately, feeling his heart squeeze in his chest.

"Bedtime, Izzy. Clint will still be here tomorrow." Juliana called. Clint winked again at the four year old and put her back on the floor.

"I wouldn't mind putting her to bed. Good practice." Natasha lied smoothly. Julia nodded and laughed.

"Make sure you tell Nat what to do Izzy." Clint chuckled. Izzy nodded and bounded over to Natasha, Lucky following in the small girl's wake. Natasha sent Clint one last heavy look before she followed after the dog and the child with Aleksandra yawning widely in her arms.

Juliana's smile faded when she saw the utterly agonized look on Clint's face. She shook her head, dark black hair falling in front of her olive skin.

"Don't you dare come back after almost a year Clint Barton, just to…" she narrowed her eyes and swallowed thickly.

"Julia," he started, setting his jaw and holding her accusatory gaze. He backed her onto the couch and sat down on the coffee table in front of her. "Julia, I am so sorry." He breathed sincerely.

"He wasn't… was never on a mission… was he?" she asked, chin quivering.

"No." he whispered inaudibly. "They wanted to see what they could do. If they could bring him back. I wanted to tell you." He swore. She nodded quickly and blinked rapidly, biting her bottom lip and looking away.

"You know…" she laughed humorlessly. "Izzy called him dad. Just before he left for New Mexico. Stupid man almost cried."

The look on her pale face was gutting him. Phil would've killed him for letting that look on his girlfriend's face.

Clint's eyes were stinging.

"Clint, what do I tell her?" she asked, face contorting as two tears slipped down her cheeks.

"I don't know Julia." He whispered painfully.

"Did he suffer?" she asked silently, staring at her hands.

Clint took a deep breath as the video footage mercilessly slammed into him.

"No." he lied perfectly. Julia nodded.

"Good. That's good." She took a deep breath to compose herself. "How long are you staying?"

"We don't know."

"Well I still make pancakes and hot chocolate on Mondays if you and Nat and your beautiful little girl want to stop by." She smiled forcibly, just as Natasha reentered the room, Lucky hot on her heels. That was her asking them to leave.

"Maybe we will. Thanks Jules." Clint smiled, standing up.

"Izzy's out like a light." Natasha noted.

"Thanks. Let yourselves out?" she smiled softly, the few wrinkles on her face becoming far more prominent in that moment. Clint nodded and stood, leaning to kiss the top of her forehead before escorting Natasha out.

As they left, Clint heard the sounds of Juliana's heartbreaking sobs before the door closed. And as he turned to ease it shut silently, his heart clenched when his eyes fell on Phil's favorite thing about Juliana Adestello; her cello.

TEN POINTS TO WHOEVER UNDERSTOOD THE COMIC BOOK REFERENCES.

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