Chapter 7: The Debt
Clint was standing in front of Fury who was just glaring at him. "What do you propose I do with this woman, Barton? She was supposed to be dead," Fury told him.
"I couldn't do it, sir, I just couldn't kill a girl who obviously needs help instead of an arrow between her eyes," Clint replied.
"What would you have me do with her?" Fury asked.
"Have her become an Agent," Clint replied simply.
"And that is where I draw the line," Fury told him.
Clint was silent. "The council's demanding her head," Fury added.
"I don't care what the council wants," Clint answered.
"Obviously!" Fury snapped.
He glared at his agent who just stood there stoically, more concerned about the woman's fate than he was about himself. "You know the council could have you strung up for disobeying orders," Fury told him.
"You know they won't because I'm the only one who can keep her calm," Clint answered.
"And why is that?" Fury demanded.
"She trusts me," Clint replied.
Fury stared at him. "I can't make her an agent yet, she will have to be tested and gain the council's trust," he stated.
"Yes, sir," Clint answered simply.
Back at his apartment, Natasha was still walking around with her side throbbing. Clint arrived home with Lily and the little girl ran up to Natasha. "Hi!" she said excitedly.
"Uh…hi," Natasha said slowly.
Lily held up a drawing. "She drew that to help you feel better," Clint told her when Natasha just stared.
"Oh…thank you," she answered.
She pointed to the picture. "Buttawfy!" she said beaming. Natasha smiled as she looked at her drawing and then at Clint who was smiling.
"It's very pretty," she told the little girl who beamed.
"Daddy!" Lily said happily.
"I knew she would like it, why don't you go play, baby so grownups can talk?" he suggested.
"Otay," she answered before running off to play.
Natasha stared at Clint as he pulled up a chair. "Have a seat," he told her.
"I'd rather stand, how long am I going to be your prisoner?" she asked.
"My prisoner? You're not my prisoner, brought you here so the docs back on the base wouldn't treat you like some science experiment," he answered.
Natasha stared at him wearily. "The docs said you had a half-assed cesarean done, I'm not going to push but you will have to tell someone because of the fact when we find the Red Room and we take them out, we need to know if there's anyone you need us to get first," he explained.
"He's dead, that's all you need to know," she answered.
He saw the pain in her eyes and stood up. "Natasha…" he said softly. The way he said her name, sent a chill up her spine and she let out a breath. "I am here, that's why you're in my home, because I trust that you're not going to slit my throat in my sleep in front of my kid," he told her.
"You underestimate me, Barton," she answered.
He went into the kitchen to make himself some coffee, placing a steaming cup of tea beside her. She stared at the teacup and looked over at him to see him staring at the ring on his left hand. "Your wife, what happened to her?" she asked. Clint glanced at her.
"She was murdered," was his only answer.
Natasha saw his grey eyes cloud over at his statement. "She must've been someone special to share your life with…to have a child with," she commented. Clint glanced at her.
"She was something," he answered "The only person I know who could put up with my night terrors."
Realizing he said too much, he got up. "I'll be in the shower," he told her as he went into his room. Natasha watched as he removed his shirt, seeing the scars again that littered his torso. She stood up, curious about this man who had been sent to kill her. She looked into the room and saw him standing in nothing but his boxer briefs. She turned away, for the first time her cheeks flushed. She mentally scolded herself, he was a man. She's seen many men naked since she was fifteen.
She quickly closed the door, walking away.
That night, she found Clint lying on the couch fast asleep. Her heart was racing in her chest as she walked over with a knife in her hand. She didn't trust him, she didn't know him.
Clint was in the shower, leaning his forehead against the tile as the hot water washed over him. He groaned softly as the water washed over him. He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back.
That night, Clint had read to Lily and was putting her to bed. "Daddy, is Miss Natasha staying a wong time?" she asked. Clint stroked her hair lightly.
"For a little while baby, she's very sick," he replied.
Lily held his hand. "She cwies when oo gone and tinks I seep," she told him. Clint frowned, stroking the hair from his daughter's eyes.
"Get some sleep, okay baby girl?" he asked.
She nodded her head slowly. Sitting up, the little girl hugged him around the neck and Clint held her close. "I love you, munchkin," he murmured.
"Wuv oo," she answered.
He kissed her forehead softly before he tucked her into her toddler bed. "Here's Mr. Hawk," he told her, handing her the stuffed animal. She cuddled with it with a smile as Clint left the room. He turned the light off, the only light in the room was her moon and stars nightlight in the corner.
Walking into his room to get ready to sleep on the couch, he saw Natasha standing in the doorway. "Hey, I'm just grabbing a few things then I'm heading to bed," he told her.
"I owe you a debt," she answered.
He glanced at her as he grabbed a pair of pajama pants out of the drawer. "A debt?" he asked, "What do you mean?"
"You spared my life," she answered.
She walked over and stood in front of him. "How do you want me to repay you for sparing me?" she asked, pushing him against the wall. Her hand slid over the front of his jeans and reached for the top button when he grabbed her wrist.
"Stop," he said quietly.
Natasha stared at him shocked. "You don't want me?" she asked, stunned. Clint stared at her, pushing her back.
"Not if you don't want me," he answered.
She reached down, undoing the sash of her robe, letting it fall open to reveal that she had nothing on underneath. "But I do," she answered. Clint frowned as he closed her robe, tying it back up.
"The day you can tell me that without stripping off your clothes and look me in the eye with more than just emptiness in your eyes, then I'll show you what it's really like to be loved by a real man," he told her.
"Why won't you just let me repay this debt?" she demanded.
"Because there isn't a debt," he answered.
He picked his pajama pants up off the floor. "Goodnight, Natasha," he told her as he went into the guest bathroom to change, leaving her there stunned. Never had a man denied her, never did a man ever just walk away.
As he slept that night, Natasha just stared at him as he slept. He confused her yet fascinated her all at the same time. She watched as his chest rose and fell as he breathed. One arm was tucked behind his head while the other arm hung off the couch. She could see the calluses that had formed on his fingers over the years as an archer. She looked at the titanium ring that was still sitting over his ring finger. There were Irish Celtic designs over the band. When he stirred, she got up and went into the bathroom.
Clint woke up to the sound of his bedroom door closing and frowned. He shifted a little as he turned so he was facing the door and fell back to sleep.
