Special thank you to reviewers! And thanks to all of you reading this little series of simple moments. I love writing Clint and Nat like this.
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Wind is age 1...
Natasha was working the punching bag in the basement when Clint arrived home. The underground level of their house was one large, well equipped training facility. When he was having the house built, Tony begged them to let him surprise them with at least one thing. He promised nothing ostentatious so Natasha, with a bit of encouraging from Clint, reluctantly agreed. They hadn't known what to expect and were very pleasantly surprised. Natasha spent a lot of time down there. Her skills never dulled. Despite the life she'd chosen, she still considered her skills a part of her and she chose to keep them. That, and the quiet fear that one day she would need to defend what was hers and what she belonged to.
The past three days Clint had been gone, training for SHIELD, so she and Wind had plenty of one on one time. SHIELD hadn't stopped asking her whenever they called Clint in. Fury figured it was worth a shot, but Natasha had no interest. None.
Instead she spent mornings taking her little son into the woods with the dogs. He'd hold onto her fingers tightly as he stumbled, but still stubbornly chose to walk, over logs, rocks, twigs, leaves. She would sit in a tree bough and read, glancing up every so often to make sure he wasn't eating the dirt in which he was digging. Wind came home after each excursion into the forest with a new beloved stick. The little pile of Wind's collected kindling on the porch was Clint's first sign of his family when he returned. After parking their jeep on the gravel by the side of the house, he'd scanned the yard, tree line, and porch, eager as always to see them. It was beside the front door that he stopped and smiled at the obvious evidence of his son.
"Nat, I'm back." He said as he hopped down off the last step into the basement.
The little boy had been playing with some large bouncing balls, that Natasha continuously avoided when they bounced or rolled to her feet. This gym had all dangerous items out of reach and a floor covered with random toys. It was the kind of place neither Clint or Nat could ever have imagined would be a part of their lives.
Wind was getting fussy and Clint arrived just in time.
"Hi." she said, stepping back from the punching bag. "Wind." She said. "Daddy's back."
Wind smiled and then started whining indecipherably as he ran over to Clint who picked him right up and sat down on the steps.
"You look tired." Nat said, coming over to them. She crouched down to his level. They kissed briefly.
"I didn't sleep much while I was there." He said as a yawn escaped him.
"How were the recruits?"
"Some good ones. A lot of dumb ones and one too many who were way to eager for violence."
"Sounds standard."
"It was."
"They'll get weeded out."
"Yeah."
"Well, he's falling apart." She said, motioning to Wind. "So if you want to lay down with him while I finish here, he's ready for a nap."
"Absolutely." He said and stood up. "Come on, Smokestack. Let's go."
Wind simply whined and squirmed irritatedly. He knew the word "nap" and was very much against any activity he'd chosen being interrupted. Regardless of being delirious with fatigue, or the fact that once horizontal he would pass out immediately, Wind hated going to take naps. He made this very clear to his dad.
"I know. Life's reeeally difficult. People putting you to bed and putting your shoes on for you. So tough." Nat heard Clint say as he went up the stairs, whining son in arms. She smirked to herself. At the top of the steps she heard Wind voice his favorite word. "No."
"Yes." Clint intoned, his voice fading down the hall a floor above her.
An hour later Natasha came upstairs, ready for a shower. As she stepped into the hall she noticed the front door was swinging open.
Clint.
Stepping under the threshold, she noted Arrow asleep a the bottom of the steps in the grass. She did not, however, see Mars anywhere. He'd usually be wherever Arrow was.
She closed the door on the afternoon sun and headed to the bedroom and, as suspected, there she found Mars. He was laying on their big bed along with Clint and Wind. Clint was curled up on his side and, just inside the crescent his body made, their little boy lay on his back, fast asleep. Sandwiching him next to his dad, was Mars. Very comfortable and not asleep. His droopy eyes rose at her entrance into the room. Natasha was not going to kick him out now. It couldn't be done without at least waking up Clint.
His guilty eye contact broke as she took note of the dirty paw marks on the bed.
"You're disgusting, dog." She whispered matter-of-factly. He wasn't one to disagree.
Her gaze then moved to the two boys asleep atop the bedspread. Clint still had his boots on. One hand was tucked under his pillow and the other rested on his son's stomach. Both of Wind's little hands were resting on his dad's, fingers wrapped around Clint's calloused thumb and index finger.
She loved those two and when she looked at them, oblivious to her, to the entire world, a smile spread across her face. It was in secret that her biggest smiles came, when she stepped back and looked at her life. Those were the moments Clint never saw, but that was ok. To Clint, her small smiles, the ones he always got to see up close, were perfect.