With S.H.I.E.L.D. effectively destroyed, her secrets uncovered and all of her covers blown, Natasha sought refuge in a place where she knew she could be herself. She woke to the sound of a rooster crowing and the warmth of sunlight streaming into the room through the large window next to the bed. She sat up slowly and stretched her limbs. In the past six weeks on the farm, she received the best sleep she had since first going on the run with Steve. She finally felt a sense of relief and the company didn't hurt either.
She climbed out of bed wearing purple flannel pajama pants and a University of Iowa t-shirt, both of which she was practically swimming in, and made her way to the kitchen. Her arrival was greeted by the smell of bacon and freshly brewed coffee and the sound of Clint singing off-key to I'm Not in Love by 10cc as he scooped heaps of scrambled eggs onto two plates already laden with bacon and toast.
In the two years that followed the Battle of New York, Clint had taken a reduced workload. He was still active within S.H.I.E.L.D., but it was mostly small missions. Quick in and out type stuff. No muss no fuss. He had been off the grid on his farm in Iowa when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and it wasn't until Natasha contacted him on his special line that he even knew what had happened. She boarded a bus in Washington D.C. and headed west. After a full day of travelling, Natasha got off in Waterloo to find Clint leaning against his red 1970 Dodge Challenger and waiting for her.
"You know, if you need a new identity…you could always try Mrs. Barton on for size," Clint suggested as they made the drive to his hometown of Waverly.
It hadn't been the first time he proposed. He made a habit of periodically asking her to marry him over the years. This time, like every other time before, she didn't dignify the question with a response.
Her relationship with Clint was without a doubt the most important to Natasha. They both had risked life and limb for each other on numerous occasions and as a result they formed a deeply profound bond. She trusted him above all others. He was her partner, her best friend and, whenever the mood struck, he was also her lover.
The first time they were intimate occurred not long after he lost his hearing. He was given clearance to leave the hospital and put on medical leave while he adjusted to the S.H.I.E.L.D. issued hearing aids. He wore them for work, but he usually plucked them out whenever he was at home. Consequently, the two of them quickly developed a habit of using sign language in their free time and even during missions.
They were in his ratty little apartment in Bed-Stuy when Natasha made her move. She was still struggling to understand why he had sacrificed his hearing and she felt a certain sense of obligation towards him. Verbal declarations of gratitude were never her strong suit and people always said actions spoke louder than words. She had been bugging him about needing to pay him back, much to his annoyance. So when he finally broke down and told her to just pick some form of compensation and he'd agree go along with it, she fingerspelled the letters 'S-E-X.'
Clint was attracted to her. She had realized that early on and she was no stranger to using her looks to achieve an end. He was definitely more appealing than men she had been with for lesser reasons and a part of her was thrilled by the prospect of seeing if he would live up to the endless flirting and bravado. What she wasn't counting on, however, was that Clint would turn her down flat.
"You want to use sex to repay a debt? You know there's a word for that right?" Clint quipped after she signed her suggestion to him. "No judgement. It's respectable work and there are worse things to do for a living." He shrugged. "I guess I just imagined if you and I ever hit the sheets it would be for a different reason."
A different reason? What reason more did he need other than the fact that she had offered it? Seduction wasn't a skill she particularly enjoyed employing, but it was one that never failed. So why the hell wasn't he jumping at the chance to sleep with her when he just confirmed that he thought about it?
Natasha didn't wait around for an answer. She made an excuse to leave and spent the next few weeks questioning his motivation. It was around that time that she had her run in with the Winter Soldier in Odessa. Clint wasted no time setting up camp at her apartment in the Little Ukraine neighborhood of Manhattan and personally supervising her convalescence. 'Another debt to repay,' she thought.
Once she was cleared to return to the field, Clint pulled her aside. "Look. We're square, alright? Every day that I make it to the end of alive is because you have my back. So I don't need you to pay me back for looking out for you, Tasha. Okay? I do it because I love you," he informed her.
Love. That was the reason he had been holding out for. He didn't want to have sex because he loved her too much to use her. Clint Barton, the man who managed to have such a big heart despite having a past as fucked up as her own, was starting to fall in love with her and that scared the shit out Natasha.
When Clint noticed her reaction to the word 'love' he quickly added, "You're my best friend. What else do you expect me to do?"
His feelings for her frightened Natasha and her instincts told her to run, but deep down she knew that she couldn't leave him. Inadvertently, he had become her home. She felt safe and comfortable with him in a way that she never experienced before. She refused to call it love because love was a liability. Love was a trap. It was a prison. It was an anchor that latched on and dragged you down to a deep abyss that was almost impossible escape from. She couldn't return his love, but she could give him a compromise.
Natasha answered his question with a kiss followed by a question of her own. 'Friends with benefits?' she signed in response. Clint kissed her back with a nod and they spent the rest of the evening exploring a new side to their relationship.
After that, they turned to each other whenever they were bored or horny or just in need of physical contact. Fast. Slow. Hard. Gentle. Kinky. Tender. Whatever the reason or where the location, they would always find a way to make it work when the other beckoned. Before long, sex with anyone else just didn't feel right to Natasha anymore.
Nobody else instinctively knew what she needed or how she wanted it every time. Nobody else could tell whether she needed to be cuddled immediately afterwards or if she wanted to be left alone. Nobody else could tell when she craved being held instead of sex. No one else looked at her the way he did. No one else made her pulse race or caused her stomach to flutter. No one else confused and frustrated and delighted Natasha all at the same time and the feeling only grew after arriving at the farm.
Even that morning, while nibbling on dry toast and pushing half eaten eggs around her plate, Natasha felt her insides twist and turn whenever he looked at her. She secretly wished she had her own hearing aid that she could yank out to save herself from listening to him sing along to song lyrics that hit a little too close to home. Her stomach lurched at the thought of that pesky four letter word that came closer to spilling from her lips or being signed by hands with each passing day. It was all too much.
Natasha shot out of her seat and made a fast dash for the bathroom off the kitchen, emptying the entire contents of her stomach in the toilet and then heaving next to it long after nothing else came up. She chalked it up to nervous tension, but Clint insisted upon taking her to the emergency room.
"Definitely not a bug," the doctor on call informed them, ruling out Clint's suspicions. "It's just an old fashioned case of morning sickness."
The first thing that came to Natasha's mind was Alexi. For years, she had irregular cycles, but she had never bothered to verify his claims of sterilization or explore exactly what he had done to her. Now she wondered if his plan had simply failed or if the whole thing was just another example of his manipulation, though the latter option seemed unlikely.
Motherhood was never in the cards for her. She never was meant to have a normal life anyway so it made no sense for him to lie about it to hurt her. None of it was ever meant to happen and yet, Natasha was living with a man that was utterly devoted to her. She felt love and, for the first time in her life, she was tempted to give it back in return to both Clint and their unborn child.