Two chapters in one day, you lucky readers! I suppose I'm just in writing mode today :) Enjoy and please let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own Natasha, Clint, or in future chapters the Avengers. All I own are any characters that come from that pretty little mind of mine.

They got back to the apartment without incident. The hallway was deserted. Clint turned to Natasha, "The apartment had a key code and mine just expired. You can make it whatever you want, as long as you tell me what it is."

"Aleksandr, A-L-E-K-S-A-N-D-R."

As he typed the letters in, he wondered who Aleksandr was. Was he a family member? A past boyfriend? A target? He didn't know and he was tempted to ask, but he knew that in time she would tell him herself.

As they entered into the apartment, Natasha stopped Clint, "What about the medical bay? I don't really trust doctors and I think I can do most of it myself. If you have a suture kit, I think I can manage."

"Go put on some sweats, and I'll fix you up. I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready."

She walked into the bedroom to get changed. There were a few sets of clothes neatly folded on the bed, as well as a pair of pajamas. She chose a shirt with a Red Sox logo on it, obviously this was Clint's. Her sweatpants were a bit small and fit her a bit better than the ones that she had worn the night before. She made a note to talk to Clint about either having someone get some of her old clothes, or getting new ones.

She entered the kitchen to see him in a pair of sweatpants and no shirt. She had certainly given him quite a beating, as could be seen by the many cuts and bruises lining his chest and torso. It had been a fight, to be sure.

"Well, you sure banged me up, Tasha. I have to say, I don't think I've had that much fun in a long time. So, let's get you stitched up so that you can go. That nasty cut on your forehead needs some work, get up on the counter so that I can see it better."

She hopped up on the counter and groaned, her body was going to have a fit in the morning.

He disinfected her cut and started stitching her up. His movements were very smooth and precise, like he had done this many times before. He looked so focused, so concentrated as he did the task at hand. As he cut the thread one last time, Natasha started to talk.

"I had just turned eight, it was my birthday. It was the last time that I ever remember being truly happy."

He paused and put the scissors down. He looked into her eyes, giving her his full attention.

"I had a party that year. My mother dressed me in this beautiful dress, it was pink and frilly. I absolutely loved it. She curled my hair, it was red like it usually is, and tied part of it up with a pink ribbon. She said that I looked like the Grand Duchess Anastasia from a long time ago, beautiful in every way."

"My little brother, Aleksandr, was four at the time. He was a sweet little boy and I was his favorite out of my four older sisters. My father took him to the store early that morning and he bought me a red balloon. He was so proud of his gift, because he had picked it out all by himself. My birthday is September 8th, so it was starting to get cold. His little cheeks were red from being outside for so long."

"My sisters gave me a cross necklace that they had saved up to buy for me for months. It was silver, with pretty little diamonds making almost a sash across the cross. I kept it, all these years. They were so proud of getting something for me with their own money."

"I had a tea party with all my little friends. Little sandwiches, little cakes, little cookies. It was the grandest thing I had ever seen. Everyone dressed up and celebrating, just for me. I don't have many memories left, but that one I still have. The next week, they took me away and killed my family to get me to do what they wanted, I haven't had a happy day since."

She hadn't realized that she had reverted to Russian, but he had. He gave her a sad smile and put some gel-like substance on her stitches and on the other cuts on her face. It felt cool and soothing on her cuts and scrapes.

"I noticed you prefer to speak Russian, I don't mind. When it is just the two of us, or when we are in the apartment, we can speak it. Deal?"

"Thanks, that would be nice."

"Now, do you have any other cuts or scrapes I need to attend to? This stuff is all purpose medigel, it will heal most cuts and bruises within a day or two and leave no scars. The cut on your forehead will take a little longer, I'm afraid, but it still won't scar."

"I think you got them all, thanks. Do you want me to take care of you, now? You have a pretty nasty cut along your jaw that needs to be stitched. And don't worry, I have quite a bit of medical training, so I won't let you scar."

He smiled again and then grimaced, yep that cut definitely needed to be attended to.

"Okay, just stand right there. If I'm on the counter, I can reach it better."

She proceed to string the tiny needle with practiced hands, she had definitely done this a couple times before. Natasha took her time with the cut, making sure that she did it right.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty four. And you can have another question, that one was a freebie."

"Not right now, tell me about our living arrangements while we are in St. Petersburg."

"You get the bedroom, I get the floor since I really don't have a couch or anything."

She frowned, that didn't seem quite fair. This was his apartment, after all, and he was letting her stay here.

"That doesn't seem fair to you, this is your house."

"But there is no way I'm letting you sleep on the floor and I don't see any other options."

"It's a big bed, big enough to share. I promise that I'm not trying to do anything, I just feel badly about you sleeping on the floor. I know you will respect my sleeping space and I will respect yours. What do you say?"

As Natasha finished fixing him up, he was lost in thought. It could possibly work, it wasn't like he wanted to sleep with her or anything. It didn't matter what Director Fury thought because he wasn't here and he saw no better option. It wasn't like he was looking forward to sleeping on the floor on and off for the next two or three months.

"Okay, I think that will work just fine."

She put the gel stuff on his face, too. He had some nasty bruises and cuts that needed to start healing.

"What's on the agenda for the rest of the day?"

Clint shrugged, "Anything you want, I suppose."

"Are you allowed to show me around?"

"I don't see why not. Grab something from the fridge while I got put a shirt on. Yes, Nat, I did notice that you didn't even touch your food at lunch; not that I blame you though."

Natasha smiled, exploring somewhere as big as this was bound to be exciting.

Thanks to Jaymie for the review. I would have thanked you over PM, but you aren't registered. So anyway, that you for the review. I really appreciated it! Thanks to Acrylate for the review as well. Glad you are enjoying it. Hopefully more people will tell me what they think about my story, pretty please :)