So, I'm not so sure you guys are going to like me after this chapter (even though I have chapter 5 written and I know that you guys will like that). So why exactly won't you like me? Well, you'll see. Enjoy!
"So what exactly was your goal in hanging out with me today, Mr. Barton?"
They were walking on the sidewalk through the campus of New York University and Washington Square Park was up ahead. When they had finished breakfast – which Natasha graciously decided to pay for as a reward for Clint bringing her wallet back to her – they had decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. They had engaged in small talk about the weather, school, and the city but now it seemed as if Natasha was taking the conversation in another direction.
Clint turned to face Natasha and he stared at her blankly. "W-what do you mean?"
"Come on, I'm not stupid. I know you like me," she said tauntingly.
Clint shook his head.
"Don't lie to me," she shot back.
Her confidence was overwhelming. Yes, he liked her, but she had a boyfriend and Clint most certainly didn't expect her to leave her boyfriend for him. It just wouldn't make sense. Clint was attractive but he looked like your average boy you passed by on the sidewalk. It's not like he turned heads or anything. He had a great personality when he used it and he could be charming if he wanted to be. But Natasha was completely out of his league.
"Okay," he said. "So maybe I do but it's not like you can do anything about it anyways since you have a boyfriend."
Natasha's face fell at the mention of the word "boyfriend." There it was, the sign that let Clint know that she didn't care for her boyfriend. He had seen it the day he brought her wallet back to her, when her boyfriend had interrupted them.
Natasha bowed her head and stared at the ground. Clint hadn't even realized they had stopped walking. "I don't know," Natasha muttered. "He's a bit of an ass. He tries to buy my love too by giving me expensive stuff but my parents love him to death so…"
"Well that…sucks," Clint said.
"What does? The fact that he's an ass and tries to buy my love or that my parents adore him?" Natasha asked.
"All of it."
Natasha lifted her head and looked at Clint, shooting him a small smile. Clint was right. She was much different than all the other girls from the Upper East Side. Any other girl would just put up and shut up about their pompous, rich boyfriend, but not Natasha. Instead, she chose to tell Clint, a boy she barely knew, about how she didn't particularly care about her boyfriend.
"Just…I don't know. My parents really like him so I feel like breaking up with him wouldn't make them very happy," Natasha said, shrugging her shoulders.
"But would it make you happy?" Clint inquired. He knew he'd gone too far. His feelings for her were already getting in the way. It wasn't his business whether she broke up with her boyfriend or not. It wasn't his business what she did in her personal life.
Natasha shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."
"I'm not telling you what to do, but if you're not happy, you should…work it out," Clint said. He didn't want to tell her to break up with her boyfriend, mostly because it wasn't his place to tell her what she should and shouldn't do. Then again, it wasn't his place to give her any sort of orders.
Clint could see Natasha soaking in what Clint had just said. Eventually, she nodded in approval. "You're right. I really should talk to Alexei and my parents. Maybe that will make things better."
Clint hummed his response and then nodded. As much as he wanted her to end things with her boyfriend so he could ask her out on a proper date, he didn't want to cause trouble. He barely knew her, and he didn't even know her family. There was no telling how they'd react if they found out Clint was the one who caused a shake up between Natasha and her boyfriend.
Natasha opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing from her purse. She fumbled with the flap of her black bag and pulled out her phone. She checked the caller ID to see who was calling and then answered it by sliding her finger across the screen.
"Hi Mom," Natasha sighed. There was silence as Natasha listened to her mother on the other end. "Yeah, I'm just down in The Village. I was having breakfast with a friend."
Clint buried his hands into his coat pockets and glanced down at the sidewalk. He tuned out the conversation Natasha was having with her mom; he didn't want to seem like he was snooping.
"Dinner sounds great," Natasha said unenthusiastically. "Tell Alexei and his parents that's fine, but I've got to go. I'll be home soon. Bye!"
Natasha tossed her phone back into her bag and sighed. She looked back at Clint, who was staring at the ground and shifting back and forth from one foot to the other absentmindedly.
"I'm sorry about that," she said. "Alexei wants to have my parents and I over for some sort of dinner."
"It's okay," Clint said with a shrug.
"I've got to go. My mom's expecting me but…stay in touch, okay?" she asked eagerly. "And we should…do this again sometime."
Clint only nodded in response, but on the inside, he was freaking out. He could tell just by the sound of her voice that she really did want to hang out again. There was no chance of them ever dating – Clint was sure of that – but maybe there was a possibility of them being friends.
"Okay," she said with a smile. "I guess…I'll see you soon?"
"Yeah, definitely," Clint choked out.
Natasha giggled as she brushed past Clint and walked to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab. Immediately, a taxi pulled up to the curb to offer Natasha a ride. She opened up the back door and then turned back to Clint. She waved at him before ducking into the cab and shutting the door.
Clint watched as her taxi sped off down the road and disappeared around the corner before he actually started making his way to the subway for his trek home. Maybe she really did want to be friends, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Two people from two totally different social classes could be friends, right? Clint just hoped his feelings for her didn't ruin everything and get in the way.
Later that night, after Clint had had dinner, he ventured out to the garage behind the house. Clint's dad was working on his father's Corvette from the seventies. When Mr. Barton's father had died a few months ago, he didn't leave much for any of his children, but there was one thing that they all coveted: his 1973 white Chevrolet Corvette. Unfortunately, the car was old and broken down and Clint's father was the only one out of all of his siblings that knew anything about cars so his father had left the car to him.
Clint could see the light on in the garage and he traipsed through their miniscule backyard to the run down structure. He pushed open the door and saw his dad's legs sticking out from underneath the front end of the Corvette. There was creaking and banging as his father fiddled around with the undercarriage.
Ever since Clint had gotten home from breakfast with Natasha, he hadn't been able to get her out of his head. That was normal for Clint, but the fact that she wasn't happy with her boyfriend because her parents adored him was what was bothering Clint. He wanted to help her, but he didn't want to meddle. He just wanted to give her some advice, and to do that, he needed advice himself.
Clint's parents weren't one to pry in their sons' lives. If something was bothering Clint or Barney, their parents were observant enough to know that something was going on but they chose to wait for their sons to come to them. And they always did. As school teachers, they would provide their sons with the best advice they could give them and send them on their way.
However, Clint wasn't quite sure how to approach his dad about a situation that wasn't even his. His dad didn't even know about Natasha either. He wanted to keep it vague as to whom he was talking about, but at the same time, Clint felt like his father needed to know about Natasha.
For a couple more minutes, Clint stood in the doorway of the garage as he contemplated as to how he was going to explain this to his dad. When he was ready, Clint took a deep breath and called out to get his dad's attention. There was a bang and a clang as Clint heard the wrench fall on the floor. Mr. Barton pushed himself out from underneath the car and rubbed his head where he had no doubt banged it against a part of the car.
"Sorry," Clint mumbled.
"It's alright," Mr. Barton said. "What's going on, Clint?"
"Can I talk to you for a couple minutes?"
"Sure," Mr. Barton said as he pushed himself off of the ground. "I was going to take a break anyways." Mr. Barton made his way over to a cooler in the corner of the garage and opened it to grab two cans of cold beer. He walked back over to Clint and offered him one of the cans, to which Clint nervously declined.
"I know you drink with your friends so just take the beer and don't tell your mother," Mr. Barton ordered. Clint took the beer and cracked it open. His father did the same and they both took long swigs from their respective cans.
"So what's on your mind?" Mr. Barton asked.
"It's kind of a complicated and long story," Clint said uneasily.
"So start from the beginning," his father said with a shrug of the shoulders.
Clint took a deep breath and released it. At this point, Clint was glad he had decided to talk to his dad about this. If he had chosen to talk to his mother about this, she would've been judging him from the get go.
So Clint launched into the story about how he had knocked Natasha's books out of her hands and she had left her wallet behind. His parents never knew where Clint had went last Saturday and earlier in the day as well, so Clint had to explain that as well. When Clint started to explain Natasha's dilemma with her boyfriend, he wasn't quite sure how he came off. Did he sound jealous? Angry? Annoyed?
When Clint had finished his spiel, Mr. Barton took another long swig from his beer and said, "The Upper East Side, huh?"
"Dad, that's not the point. She's actually really nice, and she's not like the rest of the snooty rich girls from the Upper East Side," Clint whined.
"I'm just saying," Mr. Barton said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Hey, this is like that show, umm, what it is? Oh The Gossip Girls."
"You mean Gossip Girl, Dad?" Clint corrected.
"Yeah."
"Don't tell me your guilty pleasure is Gossip Girl," Clint said with an arch of his eyebrow.
Mr. Barton stared at his son blankly before taking another swig of beer. He wiped his face with the back of his hand when he had finished and said, "That stays between us, you understand?"
Clint snorted a laugh but stopped when he saw the dirty look his dad was giving him. "So you like this girl," his dad said as he walked over to the cooler to get another beer.
"What? I never said that!" Clint retorted defensively.
"Clint, it's all over your face. When you talk about her, the adoration is undeniable," Mr. Barton said matter-of-factly.
Clint shook his head in disbelief that his dad had figured him out. "Okay, so I am but she has a boyfriend, remember? Just because I told her to work it out doesn't mean she's going to break it off with him."
Mr. Barton scoffed and waved off Clint's comment. "Those Upper East Siders, they go through boyfriends and girlfriends like we go through beer on a Saturday night." Mr. Barton held up his can of beer in response before taking another long swig from it to finish it off. Clint chuckled at his father's immaturity as he watched him go grab another beer from the cooler.
"Just trust me. She'll end things soon," Mr. Barton said.
"That doesn't mean she's going to come running into my arms. We barely know each other!" Clint exclaimed.
"That doesn't matter. From what you've told me, she's just as smitten with you as you are with her," Mr. Barton pointed out.
Clint was taken aback by that response. "What? No she's not!"
"What girl with a boyfriend asks a boy she just met to keep in touch with her and hope that they'll hang out again?" Mr. Barton asked.
Clint just shrugged his shoulders in response.
"Trust me Clint. She likes you," Mr. Barton said. He took another swig of beer to finish off his third beer. "Oh, this is just like Gossip Girl. You're Dan Humphrey from Brooklyn and she's Serena from the Upper East Side!"
"Seriously Dad?" Clint whined.
"Would you guys prefer to be compared to Chuck and Blair?" Mr. Barton asked.
"Okay, I'm out of here. Thanks for the chat!" Clint walked out of the garage, finished off his beer, and chucked the empty can into the trash can. He wasn't supposed to tell his mom he had been drinking beer with his dad, but his mom always had a way of knowing these sorts of things. So Clint braced himself as he walked in the back door and hoped she couldn't smell the beer beginning to leak through his pores.
"Natasha, darling, what's the hold up?" Mrs. Romanoff called from down the hall. Natasha stood in her walk-in closet in just a matching bra and underwear set. She was staring at the racks of clothes, unsure of what to wear.
"I can't decide on what to wear!" Natasha called back. She heard the click-clack of her mother's heels coming up the hallway and before she knew it, she was standing in the closet next to Natasha.
They stared absentmindedly at the racks of clothes together before Natasha's mother stepped forward and pulled a silver dress from the rack. Mrs. Romanoff handed the dress to Natasha and walked out of the closet. "Don't you dare think about putting on a different dress! Put that on and let's go! We're already late!" her mother called from her bedroom.
Natasha sighed as she slipped on the silver dress. The moment she had gotten home from breakfast with Clint, a wave of sadness had hit her. Returning to the Upper East Side was like returning to a life she didn't belong in. She liked having expensive things and fashionable clothing, but her parents were extremely demanding and Alexei was a pain in her ass. Hanging out with Clint had made her forget the troubles of her complicated life.
Natasha adjusted the dress to her liking and walked out into her bedroom to show her mother. Her mother cooed with delight the moment she saw Natasha and then instantly started gathering up Natasha's things to be thrown into a clutch. Natasha just shook her head as her mother gathered up her things and then handed her the clutch.
Her mother beckoned for Natasha to follow her and they made their way to the foyer of their apartment to meet up with Natasha's father. He was already in his coat and he looked irritated. Natasha muttered an apology for keeping him waiting and slipped on her coat. When they were all bundled up and ready to go, they took the elevator to the lobby and Mr. Romanoff went outside to hail a cab. When a taxi had pulled up to the curb, the Romanoff family squeezed into the back seat and headed to Alexei's family's apartment on Fifth Avenue.
Natasha despised Alexei's parents more than she despised Alexei himself. Alexei's parents acted like they were the king and queen of the Upper East Side. They acted like they deserved the best and they always made it seem like they were better than the Romanoffs because they lived on Fifth Avenue while the Romanoffs lived on Park.
Before Natasha knew it, their cab had pulled up to the curb outside of the building where Alexei and his family lived. Mr. Romanoff paid the driver and slid out of the taxi to join the rest of his family. They made their way into the lobby of the apartment building and loaded onto the elevator to take them to the Shostakov penthouse.
The elevator shot upwards as the Romanoffs rode in silence. Before they knew it, they were arriving at the penthouse and being greeted by Alexei and his parents. Mrs. Romanoff and Mrs. Shostakov pecked each other on the cheeks while Mr. Romanoff and Mr. Shostakov shook each other's hands.
Alexei greeted Natasha in his own way by kissing her passionately on the lips. Well, passionate in Alexei's eyes. Anytime Alexei kissed her, she felt like washing her mouth out with soap, throwing up, and then washing her mouth out with soap again. Plus, the passion just wasn't there for Natasha so it was just so incredibly uncomfortable for her.
"Hey, save it for later, you two!" Mr. Shostakov joked when Alexei had kissed Natasha. Natasha pushed away from Alexei and he pulled her back close to him, snaking an arm around her waist. Mr. and Mrs. Shostakov shepherded their guests into the dining room to start dinner.
Natasha took a seat at the table as Alexei sat down in the seat next to her. Mr. and Mrs. Romanoff took their seats on the opposite side of the table as Natasha and Alexei while Mr. and Mrs. Shostakov each took a place at the ends of the table.
The table was covered in food for the dinner and Mr. and Mrs. Shostakov immediately told everyone to help themselves. The Romanoffs and Shostakovs piled food onto their plates. As they ate, Mr. Romanoff and Mr. Shostakov made small talk about the economy while Mrs. Romanoff and Mrs. Shostakov chatted about their likes and dislikes from New York Fashion Week a couple weeks ago.
Natasha ate in silence and only hummed her responses or gave one word answers as Alexei tried to make small talk with her as well. That was another thing about her and Alexei. They had absolutely nothing in common. Every time they tried to talk about something, they never exactly saw eye to eye.
As they finished off their dinner, the maids that worked for the Shostakovs came in and cleared off the table of the dinner dishes and serving trays, leaving the table nearly bare with the exception of the placemats and some silverware. Within minutes, the maids had returned with dessert and placed a plate in front of each of the dinner guests.
The Romanoffs and Shostakovs savored their dessert and when they had finished, they began to make small talk once again.
"So, Natasha, how are things going for your ballet recital? Are you practicing?" Mr. Shostakov asked.
"Yes, everything's going well. I just hope everyone else is working just as hard," Natasha said as she smoothed out the cloth napkin in her lap.
"I bet they are. You ballerinas are always such hard workers," Mr. Shostakov said.
"What production are you dancing in Natasha?" Mrs. Shostakov asked from the other end of the table.
"Oh, we're doing Swan Lake of course. We always do that instead of the traditional Nutcracker for the holiday production," Natasha said with a fake smile.
"Natasha got the role of the Swan Queen this year," Alexei bragged as he snaked an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.
"Well of course she did!" Mrs. Shostakov exclaimed. "She is one of the best."
"Speaking of the best…" Alexei trailed off as he turned to face Natasha. "Natasha, you are quite possibly one of the greatest people I've ever met."
"Okay Alexei, love, no need to get sappy," Natasha said.
"I just wanted to let you know that we were meant for each other. I'm so glad we met. I don't know what I would do if we hadn't," Alexei said. Natasha arched an eyebrow in confusion as Alexei continued. "We are perfect for one another so…"
Alexei had gotten up and pushed the chair away from the table only to get down on one knee. "Natasha, I am so happy to call you my girlfriend but," he paused as he pulled out a small, red Cartier box, "I would be even happier to call you my wife." Alexei pulled open the lid to the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring.
Natasha's jaw dropped but it wasn't for the reason the rest of the dinner guests believed. She couldn't believe Alexei, her boyfriend that she absolutely despised, was proposing to her in front of his and her parents. The problem was how could she say no when her parents were practically nodding their heads in agreement from the other side of the table? Her parents wanted her to marry him. She was only seventeen and they were willing to let her marry him.
Natasha glanced around at her tablemates as they smiled and egged her on to accept Alexei's proposal. The only problem was that Natasha hated Alexei. However, she turned back to Alexei, put on her fake surprised face again, and gave Alexei her response.
Yes.
Alexei's face broke out into a wide grin as he jumped up and slipped the expensive ring on her finger. He planted a kiss on her lips as their parents broke out into cheers. When he broke away from her, he quickly enveloped her in a tight embrace.
On the outside, Natasha looked excited as could be. But on the inside, she couldn't help but wonder how much of a bigger hole she had dug for herself.
Umm, yeah so how many of you hate me? Show of hands? Like I said, it's going to be full of drama. I also already have chapter 5 written and there is tons of Clintasha interaction. I will tell you that much.
As always, thank you for adding this to your favorites, signing up for alerts, and reviewing. Reviews are very much appreciated so let me know what you guys thought of this chapter.