Chapter Seven

"The night is here and the day is gone

And the world spins madly on."

- The Weepies, "World Spins Madly On"


The Georgia landscape of maples, beeches, dogwoods, and hickories was just a mere memory. Towering glass skyscrapers were the new norm. In the distance, a growing rumble was heard coming towards her. Sparks flew from above as the train pulled into the elevated station. It took a lot on Clint's part, but they finally built the life they were denied for so long.

Natasha adjusted the lilac scarf around her neck as she walked over to her studio. She was on pins and needles for the past week, seeing how her counterpart left abruptly for a new gig.

~Flashback~

The flames cracked and hissed, as Clint tossed another log into the orange maelstrom. Lucky looked on from the comfort of her bed, and watched Clint return to his seat. "It's only going to be a week, Tash."

She closed a tattered copy of Much Ado About Nothing, and placed it on the coffee table right next to her teacup. Her green eyes narrowed for a brief moment. "I think it's a bad idea."

"We need the money." He rubbed the back of his neck, "We're barely scrapping by, and the payout will be good."

"Money isn't everything."

"True," he plopped himself on the couch next to her. "I'm going…anyway. The timing sucks."

"Don't get shot or killed." She nestled her head in the crook of his neck. "I mean it."

The two watched the fire a little bit longer. Clint reached behind him and pulled out a box. "Keep this safe for me."

A small smile graced her face, and she leaned in to kiss him. "After all this time," she laced her fingers in the light fabric.

Clint remained silent. He didn't want to the ruin the perfect quietness between them. They watched the last of the fire smolder into glowing embers, while the warmth of the room began to dissipate. Natasha stroked his hand several times before he flipped her hand onto his leg.

Before long, he lifted her from their couch and carried her into the bedroom. The thought of him leaving for his so-called gigs scared her, but she never let it show. She grabbed a bed sheet and wrapped it around herself. She walked over to the window sill, and watched the skies for some time. Crystals faded in and out, as a waxing moon rose higher.

She felt his strong arms reach over her shoulders. They both stood there quietly, taking in the last few hours. "Promise that you'll come back."

He turned her around with his familiar grin, "You know it."

~End of Flashback~

The lights flickered on one at a time. It was barely dawn, but she couldn't sleep. Clint was only halfway through his rotation, and it would be another agonizing three days before he made it home. She glanced herself at the mirrors as she slowly stretched on the cold slip-resistant vinyl. Her left ankle had been giving her grief lately, and it was only a matter of time. That one night still haunted her, even though she buried it in the past.

She started in the center of the room, pivoting on one foot and then into a sequence of three pirouettes. Her arms were raised above her head, and she leapt into the air before softening her lines. She let her center of gravity fall just enough to gain more momentum and ended up into an aerial cartwheel.

Through the twists and turns, she felt a sense of peace wash over her, and knew this is where she belonged. She lunged to the floor and ended her routine.

Before she could catch her breath, a familiar ring tone filled the room. "Hey," she calmed her breathing down.

"Hey," he responded back. "Figured you'd be up." Clint looked out the desert landscape from his window. Several outcroppings pierced the nearly flat land.

"How's it going?"

"Nothing exciting," he held his visual on the terrain, while he cradled the cellphone to his ear.

"Good, keep it that way." She reached for a towel in her duffle bag.

Before the signal cut off, "I have to run, Nat. Break a leg."

She pitched the electronic device back into her bag, and returned to her routine. 30 minutes of more perfection and adjustments, she spun on her toes to end the set.

The doorbell jingled against the door, and on cue, her students entered the studio. Their laughter and chatter broke the remaining silence of the hallowed walls.

"Everyone…places now," she clapped her hands. "We have an important day."

The compound was a welcome sight for the crew. Not soon after his conversation with Natasha, the caravan came under a heavy spray of bullets. They were strong enough to dent the siding of the doors. Two vans rushed to the front and returned fire. Clint remained steadfast on his gaze on the horizon, while his right hand loomed over the Glock that was concealed in his pocket.

"This region is notorious for these incidents. We nearly lost a van last time, but we improvised for sure." He tapped against the metal. "I take it you were calling your girlfriend?"

"You can say that," his eyes never left his vantage point. He never did like small talk on these missions.

"This meeting shouldn't take long. The deal is about to close."

Clint just smiled underneath the veil of darkness. Radio chatter broke out from the front as an all clear was announced. The caravan of armored cars continued to trek across the checkpoint until a steel garage door opened.

"It's show time."

The entourage entered the checkpoint one at a time with their badges being scanned by the guard. Clint maintained a low profile, seeing that he was only a temp in the field. It was the same protocol that he followed on every mission. He didn't need to make large ripples on anyone's radar.

He watched another set of doors closed behind him, as he stuffed his hands in his leather pockets.

"Wait here," the main lead on the project went through the glass set of doors.

Clint punched a dial on his watch, and waited for the negotiations to finish. He watched the minutes go by as it counted down to Nat's final show.

"Which watch goes with this suit?" Tony haphazardly ran his hands over the dials, before swiping his current watch for an Omega.

Pepper adjusted the backend of her earring. Her eyes saw the pile of watches in the case. "This one," she picked up one with a gray band instead.

"Right," a grin was plastered on his face.

"One of these days, Tony," and she walked out of the room into the foyer. "Happy…please have the limo ready."

"Right, Ms. Potts."

"Tony, I'm giving you five more minutes." She reached over the table by the entrance and grabbed a bouquet of red roses.

"I'm coming." Stark made his appearance in the foyer, but his tie had managed to become undone in the process. "You know we're going to get stuck in traffic."

Pepper ignored his pessimistic comment and adjusted the tie, but not before, she made a tighter loop to send him a message. "How's that?" She smiled coyly.

He tugged at the fabric and let out a small cough.

"You have the tickets right?"

"Yes, I do…for once." He grabbed his shades off the desk and had the upper hand in the conversation finally. "Let's go."

"I'm still looking for that raise, Stark."

"I've heard that before." He opened the door for her.

"Aren't you being a gentleman?"

Stark reached over the mini fridge and pulled out several bottles already. He popped the lid of one and drank the cold liquid in one sitting.

Pepper eyed him, "You promised you wouldn't start tonight." She rubbed her temple, "If the PR hits the floor, you're putting out the fire."

"Say no more." He pitched the bottle in the wastebasket.

The strawberry blonde reached into her bag and grabbed her cellphone.

"Hi Pepper, our flight has been cancelled. Sorry, we tried. This storm front is creating havoc from Chicago." Bruce pushed the phone closer to his ear as a loud announcement came above. "The God of Thunder jinxed us," he smiled into the phone, "The rest of the gang send their regrets," he glanced over to where Blake and Rogers stood, watching the board light up with cancellations. "We'll see if we can grab another connection and meet up later."

"I'll let her know. No worries." She closed the cellphone and looked at Stark, "They're stuck in the Windy City."

"We'll send them a video."

The audience started to fill the auditorium. Natasha pulled aside the curtain, as she waited in the wings. She finally achieved her life dream, and this was going to be her last night on stage. She watched the next generation take their places, and waited for the curtain to rise. It was time to let go.

And before long, it was her time to take her last dance. She felt the asymmetric, white fabric brush against her legs, as she took her position. The spotlight caught her left shoulder as the fabric erupted into sparkles that cascaded down the front of her dress. At that moment, all she could think of was Clint. Her eyes stared off to the balcony and she took a deep breath before she started into her routine. The guitar melody drifted over the stage, and before long, she was flying.

Pepper and Stark watched from the front row, and Stark managed to get a recording of their friend's final performance. Natasha turned on her heels and launched herself into an aerial cartwheel before going into her next sequence of pirouettes.

Halfway around the world, Clint clung to his cellphone as he watched her dance. He had tuned out the conference room and just sat there watching her in her element. The guitar rift died down and he watched her take a bow. The video shifted, as he heard both Stark's and Pepper's voices in the background with a chorus of applauses.

Clint watched a few more seconds, as she took her final bow with her arm draped across her chest. "That a girl."

The conference room door opened, "Let's go, Barton. Time to go stateside."

...

Three weeks later

Natasha stood off to the side as she watched Clint kneeling in front of her daughter's grave. It was an unexpected trip, but it was something Clint wanted to do. A slow wind had picked up from behind her, carrying her loose curls around her shoulders. "So what did you say to her?" She reached over for his hands.

"It's my secret," he tugged at his black jacket. "Let's take a drive."

"I'm game," she smiled back at him.

The northern region soon loomed in the horizon, as their car skirted though the Chattahoochee National Forest. Route 180 reveled in an explosion of scarlet, amber, and shades of brown. Autumn this year didn't disappoint, and the show was just beginning.

They continued the drive until they passed the signs that led to Brasstown Bald. From their viewpoint, they saw the stone tower sitting on top of Georgia's highest point.

"Want to take the shuttle?" Clint pointed over the line of visitors.

Natasha looked at him in surprise, "Let's hoof it. We're not that old."

The steep, .5 mile hike uphill wasn't that bad for the most part. Along the way, they saw more of the same spectacle with vibrant reds and oranges. Eventually they came across the tower they saw earlier. The view from there was breathtaking with the rolling hills and treetops. In the distance, the skyline of Atlanta was seen from the south, while to the other directions; both North and South Carolina, and Tennessee were visible.

"It's beautiful," she pointed over to the Blue Ridge Mountains right as Clint grasped her left hand. Her emerald eyes saw him on one bended knee. "Barton?"

"Earlier in the day you asked me what I said to Ariana…I asked for her blessing. I told her that I was going to protect you," his hand reached into his pocket, and he pulled out a ring, "This is to make up for lost time…will you marry me, Natasha?"

"Yes." A tear slipped down her cheek.

He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her, right as the sun was setting.


That's a wrap!

Thank you again for sticking with me. It has been another wonderful ride. Thank you for the faves and story alerts, you know who you are.

Thank you to my following reviewers: Brandi Golightly, sillystarshine, Sass Trek, Shoes2001, just an avengers fan , ShunKickShunKers, JacquelineKennedy, clarawithfitzsimmonsin221b, JWolf28, and the-vintageclassic.