Hey guys! Welcome to a new chapter of Having a family! I hope you're enjoying this so far!

In this: Natasha and Clint are attracting suspicion from everyone in regard to their relationship status. Tony and Peter decide to turn it into a mission. Anya is as relentless as they are. Natasha is overwhelmed, and annoyed.

This is dedicated to my awesome friend Magda! Ily and I hope you like this!


TOW operation BlackHawk

Sweat was pearling on her forehead. The music was pounding in her ears, making her head bounce following the rhythm and her punches fall into a beat unconsciously.

Her opponent was smirking, obviously liking getting her worked up.

She smirked back, with the same intensity. Sparring was like dancing for her- an art that should be practiced, over and over and over, until perfection is achieved. And perfection she had become. A long time ago too. But she never gave up on the habit.

She somersaulted backward, her smirk broadening when she saw her opponent's shocked look. She never let herself go so much unless she was listening to music.

She knew it, Clint knew it. She was dancing right now. And she was also winning. Watching Natasha Romanoff was like watching a prima ballerina perform an intricate series of moves. It left her audience breathless, yearning for more, yearning for better.

Today was no exception. Peter was standing not far away, leaning against the wall, a sparkle in his eyes. He looked up to Romanoff so much, he made Tony jealous sometimes- all the time, even, though the genius-playboy-billionaire-philanthropist would never admit that he's intimidated by the ex-KGB operative, actual super spy, Avenger Natasha Romanoff. Go figure how his mind works. Not being intimidated by her is borderline unnatural.

Beside him, Natasha's mom, Anya, was standing as stiff as a board. Every time Natasha almost took a hit, Peter could see her tense up even further. She certainly still wasn't used to Natasha fighting like this, even though it's already been two weeks since they reunited the family. Peter dreaded her going on future missions. If she came back injured, Anya would have her head, along with everyone else who was there.

Natasha cracked her neck when she saw Clint come at her. She rolled out of the way and kicked him in the stomach, making him fall beside her. She stood up and smiled down at him, taking out her earbuds.

"Did I go too hard on you, Barton?" She taunted, crouching down beside him.

He sat up and rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Tasha."

She extended her hand and he took it, both of them standing up, grinning like idiots, still holding hands.

"Is there anything between them, Peter?" Anya asked him curiously, obviously glad that the fight ended.

Peter looked at the partners, who were chatting happily, still standing in the middle of the ring.

"I honestly don't know. But they are really close." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He's never thought of that before. What if… What if they were together? What then? Nothing would technically change… right?

He remembered the hushed tones they almost always spoke in, the fact that Natasha always seemed to be wearing one of Clint's t-shirt whenever she was just relaxing at the Tower. How they would always sit together cuddled on the couch, how they always seemed to be touching somehow.

His eyes narrowed further. He quickly got out his phone and texted Tony a "we need to talk asap."

Soon enough, he got a text back, saying to come down to the lab. He excused himself, leaving Anya alone, waiting for Natasha. She had promised her that they would spend time together this afternoon, and she wasn't letting her daughter back down from her word. She's been distant with them, and Anya was determined to change that. She will see them as her parents.

Peter entered the lab, his mind still occupied with the thoughts of Natasha and Clint together. How didn't he notice before? How didn't anyone notice before? They weren't exactly hiding it.

He found Tony tinkering with a device on his desk.

"Do you think Clint and Natasha are together?" Peter asked out of the blue, startling the engineer, who looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Together?" He raised an eyebrow, pulling off his gloves, and setting them aside.

Peter nodded, settling in a chair nearby. Stark opted to stand, leaning on his desk.

"As in, together together. You know… in a relationship?"

Tony looked a little bit confused. "Romanoff and the Hawk? Where did you get that idea?"

"Well…" Peter was wondering suddenly if he wasn't making it a bigger deal than it was. "They're always touching, sometimes they speak in languages they know we don't understand, she's always wearing his shirts-" he was rambling and he knew it, so he stopped before he embarrassed himself any further. Maybe it was dumb. Maybe he shouldn't have-

"Oh my god, you're right!" Tony exclaimed suddenly, pounding his fist in the palm of his hand. He looked as excited as he would've been if he had discovered the time travel equation instead.

"I am?"

"Yes! You're a genius, kid! How didn't I see this before?" Stark turned his back on Peter, muttering a couple things to himself, and rummaged through a drawer that Peter didn't notice was there before.

"Here," he turned back with a couple of walkie-talkies, a maniacal look in his eyes. "Operation BlackHawk is on."

Peter seriously did not know what he was getting himself into, and he was a little scared.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Anya was standing in front of the stove, adding a few ingredients to a pot in front of her, while Natasha was sitting on the counter, watching with mild interest.

"Then you add the paprika-"

"How much?"

"Hm, not much, but not too little," the mother replied, as she took a pinch of the brown-ish power, and sprinkled it into the boiling pot.

Natasha was seriously starting to get annoyed. 'Not too much, but not too little?' What kind of instructions were those? How was she supposed to learn, as Clint put it while mocking her only a few minutes ago, with a teacher who wasn't even measuring the shit?

She sighed audibly, making her mother raise an eyebrow. "Don't sigh at me, you lady."

She rolled her eyes in response.

"Don't roll your eyes, either."

"Ugh, but-"

"Don't 'but' me."

"Oh, come on!" The redhead raised her arms in surrender. "What can I do? Humor me, please."

"You can get me the salt and stop complaining." Anya gently scolded, looking at her daughter with amusement in her eyes.

Natasha rolled her eyes again, feeling all the bit like the teenager she didn't get to be, and hopped off the counter, trying to find the salt in the intricate maze that was their communal kitchen.

Bruce mainly cooked for them, so he was probably the one who knew where the salt was.

Before she could go out and ask him, she heard an "in the cupboard, to your right."

She looked at her mom with a raised brow, her jaw almost slacking. "How the hell do you know that?"

"First of all, language. Second of all, I've been living here for two weeks already, honey."

"You'll be good friends with Cap," Natasha grumbled under her breath while reaching for the salt.

'Seriously? Has it already been two weeks? It feels like they just arrived yesterday.' She cringed to herself as she remembered having to sit down with them and explain to them in detail what happened to her -or what she could remember, at least. Brainwashing didn't exactly leave you with a lot of your memory intact- after she was kidnapped.

She didn't tell them everything in detail, of course- that would traumatize them.

She just told them about the Red Room, about the training -not the other kind of training, the… sexual training. That was something she never wanted to revisit again. She told them about the KGB, about some missions, the not-so-gruesome ones that she could talk about without feeling like she was going to be sick.

She didn't tell them she was Black Widow, because she wasn't her anymore. Or that was what she wanted to convince herself of. Now, she was Senior Agent Natasha Romanoff, Alpha member of S.H.I.E.L.D, and an Avenger. They didn't need to know that the fearsome legend is true and that it was their daughter who killed all those people.

When she came to the U.S all those years ago, she made the mistake of googling her alias. Boy, were there some results. Apparently, Black Widow wasn't much of a secret anymore. The Russians knew her as Nyx (the goddess of the night. She actually found that quite clever), or The Widow, and they knew her kill count. They knew her techniques, and they knew they weren't safe. All she could find on the web were stories about her and warnings not to cross her.

It had made her chest swell with pride at the time- that was, in fact, the reputation she was aiming for, but now that she thought about it, she felt her guts clench in disgust. It was mainly aimed at herself, for being such a… despicable human being. Children were told about the Black Widow before bed to get them to obey and comply. She was a monster in every sense of the term.

Of course, no one needed to know about that, except herself.

They didn't take it as badly as she would've thought. They had apologized profusely, and her mother had cried a little, but she assured them that she was past that, even though a voice in the back of her head cackled that she wasn't. She had shrugged it off.

The two weeks after that passed by in a blur. Her father had gone back to Russia, to sort out some affairs, and get a vacation from his job so he could come to spend some time in America with his newly reunited family. He would be back in a couple of days.

Her mother had taken to cooking for the Avengers, along with May, Peter's aunt, who lived with them. She was also very fond of their library, it seemed, and spent a lot of her time there. If she wasn't cooking or reading, she was either with Peter or trying to get Natasha to spend time with her. That obviously wasn't going so well, because the spy was doing her hardest not to be in the same room as her alone.

But, after she was cornered the day before and confronted about it, she had promised that the next afternoon was going to be spent as some mother-daughter bonding time.

She kinda regretted that now.

The salt passed, Natasha resumed her position on the counter, mindlessly swinging her legs back and forth.

She looked at the concentrated face of her mother and knew she wanted to talk to her about something important. She could read people like open books, and her parents weren't an exception.

"What?" She prompted, and her mom looked at her, confused.

"What?" She asked back, starting to mix the strange concoction. It was supposed to be chili, but Natasha couldn't see how that, was supposed to become the delicious mixture. Then again, she and cooking didn't get along well.

"You have something on your mind. Spill." She crossed her arms, silently praying to whoever is out there that she hadn't discovered the Black Widow thing.

Her mother seemed to hesitate. "It's probably none of my business…"

Natasha simply raised an eyebrow, and her mother sighed.

"Are you and Clint in a relationship?"

Natasha almost fell from her counter. She recovered quickly, barking out a nervous laugh, that sounded normal for anyone else. Sometimes, she was thankful for all the Emotion Control training she received as a kid. That came in handy a lot.

"Me and Clint? Really?" She laughed some more, and her mother looked confused.

"You're very close, honey."

"We are," Natasha answered, with a soft smile on her lips, only reserved for Clint. "He's my best friend," mom. She wanted to finish her sentence with that word, but something inside her ached, and she couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Just your best friend?" Anya raised an eyebrow, smiling mischievously at her daughter.

Meanwhile, in the shadows, Peter grinned. He knew exactly who to recruit next for their BlackHawk operation. It was starting to grow on him. Stark's enthusiasm was contagious. And let's just say, they had a plan. A genius one too.

With a chuckle, he retreated back into the shadows (don't ask him how he did that, he didn't know either, but it gave him villainy vibes that made him feel cool), and got out his walkie-talkie.

"Otter, Otter, I found our first recruit. Over."

"Otter? Seriously kid?"

"Oh shut up, Mr. Stark. Over."

It seemed like he was the only one taking this seriously. But that wasn't a problem. 'They shall be married by the end of the week', he grinned and made his way to his room. He had a recruitment to plan.


Hope you liked that!

Next up: more people join operation BlackHawk. Meanwhile, a parent-teacher meeting causes Peter to seek out help from a Genius Playboy and a very annoyed Super Spy.

Leave some reviews please :3