**Note*** Correction for the previous chapter, "Sticks". I said that it was December & that Wind was GOING to be 3 the following March. That's not correct. He was going to be 4. Because his birthday is in March and Isaac's is in January. He turned 3 after Isaac was born. My bad.

June

Wind 3 yrs old. Isaac 5 months old.

The night was nearly as hot as the day had been. Clint found a perch atop the roof where he sat looking out at the dark wall of trees. In his lap he held his son. Ever since the sun had faded out of sight, they had been watching the fireflies blink in the woods like strobe lights. It was an incredible sight. Unbeknownst to Clint, Natasha was curled up in a chair on the porch below. She held Isaac who had finally dozed off on her shoulder. In the quiet, only interrupted by Clint and Wind's soft conversation and brief bouts of giggling, she too watched the insects turn a dark forest into a flickering miracle.

Eventually, she rose and took the baby inside to lay him down. When she came back out, she called softly up to the boys.

"Time for sleep." It was already a little too late for Wind old to still be awake. If she didn't say something, the two of them might stay up there all night and the result tomorrow would be a 3 year old emotional disaster.

"No mommy." she heard Wind exclaim.

"Yes mommy." she heard Clint correct.

Nonetheless, Wind continued to whine about the injustice as he was passed down to his mother. Clint had already got him into his pajamas and brushed his teeth, so Natasha needed only to appease him with a song. Despite all the complaining, it was relatively easy to get the boy to sleep.

Clint elected to stay up there for a little while longer, so he kissed Wind goodnight before letting him down with Nat. Then he lay down, this time looking up at the stars with his hands under the back of his head. The silence and the beauty lulled him into such a peaceful state that he fell asleep.

After Wind was tucked in, Nat went back out to climb up and sit with Clint. She stopped at the sound of faint snoring and looked up. His boots were peeking out over the lip of the roof. She smiled to herself, left him there and went to bed.

. . .

Clint awoke to warm light on his eyelids. The morning sun was slowly beginning to bake him where he lay, causing sweat to pool beneath his back. Sitting up and stretching, Clint took inventory of his home. He loved this place with its trees and grass. He loved his house that Tony built, those weird chickens, his good dogs, and his old jeep finally freed from a life in storage units. His eyes scanned the open space. There was the hen house by the tree line, and not far from that was the garden. It was surrounded on all sides by a very rustic picket fence. He'd built it himself, with Wind's help of course. It was not white or neatly carved, but instead made of varying sticks and small logs found in the woods. The little gate functioned perfectly, with a little latch system Natasha had fashioned from an old pistol. That amused both of them quite a lot. As imperfect as the fence looked, the whole thing was very sturdy. Within that handmade space, kneeling in the dirt, was Natasha. Wind was beside her, digging and chattering to her. As she worked, Isaac was wrapped, slung across her chest, asleep and content as could be. Clint could see her quiet responses and small smiles as she worked and listened to her son. The garden was a joy to her, as so many things now were. She was able to coooperate with the workings of the earth to enhance her own life and the lives of those she loved. It was such simple reality, but it was hers.

Up on the roof Clint couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. Natasha's physical beauty, and the beauty of the person she was, seemed to leave him paralyzed, just staring. Who she was was more beautiful than anything else. She was so fierce, and so impressive in her bearing in every kind of situation. She carried pain and scars that most people couldn't imagine and was the bravest person he knew. His respect for her had been born the moment her piercing eyes met his. Her composure and dignity in the face of capture and most likely death, struck him deeply. From there it had only grown. It grew and grew until she was the most important thing in his life. Then it grew into love, something incredibly foreign to him. Yes, her outer beauty was a wonderful thing, but it wasn't why he loved her. It was another thing to love about her. He was never really certain at what point he noticed her eyes as stunning or felt attraction, but Clint was certain that when it happened it completed the picture. Everything about her was now beautiful to him at that point and there was no turning back from that.

Before Clint came along, Natasha had always been aware of being beautiful. She had been taught that her beauty was tool of the trade, a weapon like any other, and it had served her very well. As far as she was concerned, it was nothing more than another skill in the set and had no business being involved in honest dealings. She was beautiful. That was never in question, but her alliance with Clint had been her first honest dealing and she never tried to seduce or sway him once. His eyes wouldn't let her. His eyes disarmed her. They were sincere. He'd been the first one to be honest and something about him made her follow suit. That honesty they shared continued through partnership, friendship, and into a very real love.

What he had seen in her made him choose to let her live. Because of it, he allowed her to know him and she allowed herself to be known. To the rest of the world, he was the hawk, up high and out of reach. But to Natasha he became something else. He could match her at hand-to-hand and he wasn't afraid of her. He had her back while on missions and she relied fully on what he could see. They learned they were not only equals, but a flawless team. Then, it was relaxation, having a beer together after a debrief, shooting the breeze. She didn't understand this leisure at first, but came to appreciate it. Their closeness followed after. She learned when he needed to talk and that it was her he needed to talk to. Natasha told him things about her life, things only she knew about. They shared countless small moments that no one else would ever notice. These things lit up the darkness inside her. That was the kind of beauty she wanted to possess. His trust and his respect were her greatest treasures. And she never once coerced, lied, or seduced to obtain them. That was what mattered to her. That made her feel lovable, and love was a concept that did not exist in her world until long after meeting him.

Even after they had become spouses who were more than in love, she struggled to accept physical love as something that could be sincere and real. During her life she had made a farce of it so many times and always as a means to an end. Besides, it had never been Clint's priority. It was the last piece to fit into their relationship. But Natasha did learn to trust what it all meant. Still, her own beauty remained irrelevant to her. To her mind, it was still a tool of coercion and not the reason Clint had respected, trusted and then loved her. Although, he had very positive opinions on the subject, she had no need to be affirmed in such away. While Clint did not shy away from such compliments, he knew well enough what affirmed her wholly and made her feel beautiful was no compliment or attraction on his part, but each little moment of trust and every second they shared as true equals. Clint's love for Natasha, just as her love for him, had been sealed in a fierce trust. The depth of their feelings and devotion toward each other had been forged out of fire and aged to maturity. What they shared physically served to cement in reality what already existed between them. Then, love did what it always does. It grew and brought new realities. Their names were Wind and Isaac.

Clint finally smiled when Natasha noticed him awake and gazing at her from on top of the house. Her mouth twitched, giving away a smile only he would notice. She shook her head at him which only made him smile more. Nat was more than aware of his aptitude for lip reading and took full advantage of the fact.

"I know you see better from a distance, but you're just being creepy now."

Clint laughed out loud.

"I love you too" he called across to her.

She smiled outright this time and went back to her gardening.

Wind had looked up when Clint yelled. "Hi Daddy!" he yelled too.

Clint beamed. "Mornin' buddy!" he called back with a wave. Wind laughed and continued digging beside his mother.

With one fluid motion Clint swung himself down onto the porch. Arrow and Mars were laying there, enjoying the shade. Mars gave a friendly swish of his tail as Clint headed to the front door. "Hi, pup." Clint said, taking a knee to rub his dog's ears.

Before getting to his feet, he took another long look out across the grass. The most beautiful thing he had ever seen was his family, and he cared for them far more than he cared for himself. There wasn't a whole lot he had ever been sure of, but he was sure of that.

.

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Friends, JUST IN CASE SOMEBODY WANTS TO MENTION AVENGERS 2: AGE of ULTRON IN ANY WAY in a review, PLEASE DO NOT. I WILL GO SEE IT ON FRIDAY NIGHT AND HAVE AVOIDED ALL SPOILERS! I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING.

Anything!

I'd be very grateful.

:)

Thank you so much to all of you who have followed, favorited and reviewed this little series. I appreciate it so much! And a special thanks to Ani-maniac494 for her helpful opinions on this chapter…. Waaaaaaay back when I started working it.

Hope this wasn't too sappy for anybody. :) But hey, I'm such a sap. :)

Peace,

Lasta