DAUGHTER ~ MEDICINE

...

Clint was at the window, his cup of noxiously alcoholic eggnog sitting on the sill, barely touched. He hated being buzzed; hated the fact that people thought alcohol was required for anything fun to happen, because then they'd insist he come to their damn parties and then insist he drink it.

The snow outside glazed everything in blue light from the moon.

Snow made him introverted, quiet. Always had for as long as he could remember. As long as anyone could remember, in point of fact. No amount of jollity or ridiculous holiday cheer could pull him out of this until December 26th, though it wasn't from lack of trying from his peers.

He stood with his hands in the pockets of his slacks, stupid, wistful memories flitting through his mind. There were Christmas' when his brother Bernie would steal the liquor from the snake lady's cabin; he was even more of a lightweight than Clint was today and always put on an entertaining stand up show that rivaled even their best clowns. If Bernie was in a good enough mood preceding getting ass-faced drunk, he'd also steal a present or two from the local shelter, even though he could've just gotten in line. Bernie was always above handouts.

Despite all that, Christmas wasn't bad until that last one, right after Bernie had left. He'd just up and left, leaving a note on Clint's pillow. And Clint had known that was coming. It was the ringmaster's charity drying up that had left Clint in a whorl of shit.

"Hey, Robin Hood!"

Clint looked around only in respect; he recognized that voice and knew what to expect.

Natasha slid onto the wide window sill, facing him with her own eggnog in hand. "You miss me on that Tunguska mission?"

"Oh yeah," Clint pushed his glass away from its precarious perch next to her hip. "I don't know how I got by without the constant threats to my junk. And I definitely could've done with more Red Room tails on the return trip, considering the transportation I had on hand."

Natasha's smirk over her eggnog was a fairly unfamiliar one. It seemed to be coming from a personality he had yet to meet; could this possibly be a bit of unwatered, unadulterated Natasha?

Clint's expressions were as enigmatic as always, but she'd learned some things from their time together and he seemed a bit distracted as he looked back out at the snow.

"Something wrong?" Natasha asked, allowing her smirk to soften to a more comfortable smile. She cricked an eyebrow up in an attempt to imitate his cool control of emotion, trying to convey a curiosity that wasn't entirely made up.

Clint shook his head, a strange smile on his mouth. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just nice to see you relax."

Natasha's lips pursed, "I suppose that's one way of looking at me today."

Clint's expression looked skeptical, "What's the other way, then?"

Natasha only shrugged and sipped at the eggnog.

Clint shook his head again and looked back out at the snow. Natasha watched as his eyes swiftly returned to the iciness she'd seen before she walked over, as if he was absorbing the temperatures outside. She wanted to ask, "Why the long face?" but she didn't think she'd get a real answer.

She looked out the window as well, suddenly remembering a moment in Red Room, her dance shoes on her feet and the Headmistress shouting something about sugarplums and dainty snowflakes.

Frowning, she gulped down some more of her eggnog.

The first of many companionable silences began between the two.

This silence wasn't forced, but it felt inevitable. It was comfortable, yet unbreakable, each wrapped up in their own thoughts about each other, and about their pasts.

The woman finally had enough, shaking her red hair, and saying, "I'll see you around, Clint."

The man didn't reply, his head tilted in curiosity as she walked away to join the festivities.