A/N okay so having watched AoU, my previous control over my obsessions has shattered so here's hoping that this sorts that out. The first chapter is on the plane but I'll add other chapters and rearrange them into chronological order as i write/upload them.
To anyone reading my Criminal Minds fics, I'm working on them, honest, but it's hard to write when your brain goes into meltdown over a now non-canon ship...
Enjoy
Clint sighed quietly as his eyes scanned the clouds brushing past the cockpit of the plane, resisting the urge to switch to autopilot so that he could check on Nat. Her vacant stare and the slight crease of her brow as he guided her onto the plane had him worried, really worried. It was an expression he had only ever seen when she opened up about the Red Room, about the past that she worked so hard to keep locked away in the darkest recesses of her mind.
The knowledge that that punk-kid had opened up her Pandora's Box made his blood boil.
He glanced back down at the coordinates that were their destination. He wished that Nat had been more responsive when they had boarded, that they had been able to discuss the use of the safehouse. When Stark had asked where they were going, his answer had been honest, if vague. But it wasn't just a safehouse. It was their safehouse. The place they fled to if ever their lives began to overwhelm them.
That wasn't often, mind you. Rarely did they come across a challenge they couldn't face head on.
The only people who knew the farmhouse existed were the two of them, Coulson and Fury. Were it not for their current situation, he would have kept it that way. The farmhouse was the one place that didn't feel tainted by the outside world and that was about to change. But with nowhere else to go, it would have been selfish to force the team to look elsewhere to go underground.
Screw it. He needed to talk to Nat. The team would find out about them soon enough and the autopilot could keep the plane on course for the time being.
He switched to autopilot and made his way to the back of the plane, scanning the shadowed outlines of the team. Cap was hunched forward, staring into space. Banner had fallen into a restless sleep. His limbs were tangled in a thin blanket and a sheen of sweat stained his forehead. Thor was spinning Mjolnir in his hands, deep in thought. Nat had her back to him. Only Tony stirred as he left his seat.
"Want me to take the wheel, Barton?" He asked, his tone unusually subdued.
"It should be fine but be my guest." Clint was more focused on Nat. He crouched in front of her and took her hands in his. "We're heading home." He told her softly. He rubbed his thumbs in small circles on her skin before ghosting the shape of an arrow on the back of her hand.
The corners of her lips turned upwards in the smallest of smiles as she met his gaze. She knew what he meant by home. Not a rented apartment, not the Avengers' Tower. Their home.
Her eyes flickered towards Tony and her hint of a smile became a wry grimace. The team would find out about them. Or rather, Cap, Thor and Banner would. Tony would be over the moon when his suspicions were confirmed. There had been a great deal of hushed speculation about the relationship between the two assassins. Tony had first voiced his thoughts after the battle of New York, convinced that they were doing 'the dance with no pants' on a regular basis. Cold eyes and a sickly sweet smile from Nat had silenced him.
The second time he'd brought it up was after the team had moved full time into the newly named Avengers' Tower. Jarvis had ratted them out, albeit accidentally. Following the episode in which Tony had triumphantly exclaimed 'I knew it! I knew they were sleeping together' to the rest of the team, Clint had coolly asked him what his favourite kind of wood was. Tony had looked at him in confused amusement, some crude innuendo no doubt begging to leave his lips.
"Rosewood" He had replied, his confusion still evident on his face. Clint had glanced at Nat.
She had raised her eyebrows slightly and paused as if in thought. "A good choice. Somewhat pricey for a coffin but I don't think Stark Industries would mind footing the bill."
Stark had dropped the topic and Jarvis's voice interface had mysteriously gliched up an octave for the rest of the week. Whilst nothing more had been said, both assassins suspected there was some kind of long running bet going on between their fellow Avengers.
Clint squeezed her hand gently as her expression became absent once again. He hated seeing her like this, watching the same questions and doubts running through her head again. Moving smoothly into the seat next to her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple. She leaned into him and entwined her fingers in his.
"We'll be home soon." He murmured.
A/N so this is my first avengers fic, chances are i'll continue with it regardless but i'd love to hear what you think.
