He's Family

Natasha was really starting to hate countries that started with the letter B. She and Clint always had the most trouble in counties that started with the letter B. This time it had been Bahrain, which she'd left with the lovely souvenirs of three broken fingers and bruised ribs. At least the fingers were on her non dominant hand, and they did help to persuade Fury to give her and Clint some much needed R&R. Bahrain had been the last in a long string of missions, and they were both due some downtime. Clint would eventually make his way home to Laura, but since it would take a day or two to get him there Natasha took pity on him and drug him home with her. After they had proven to each other that they could be trusted, and they knew without doubt or hesitation that they had each other's backs following Budapest, Natasha had told him the truth of who she was and he'd told her about Laura and his son Cooper. Natasha trusted Clint, depended on him, he was her partner, and her best friend. So it never crossed her tired mind that taking him home with her meant he'd see Director Carter outside the confines of SHIELD.

The cab dropped two exhausted agents off in front of the Carters' suburban Maryland home, and drove off just as they shouldered their duffle bags. Natasha led Clint up the path to the front porch just as the last sliver of sun dropped behind the horizon. She stifled a yawn as she shoved her hand into the pocket of her jeans to pull her keys free, but apparently she didn't do it soon enough because she could hear Clint fully yawn behind her. "Don't start that shit, Barton. I want to eat before I crash for a week."

"I didn't start anything, Romanoff, you did." Clint replied through a second yawn.

Natasha had slipped her key into the lock but paused in turning it to turn and look at Clint. "Seriously Clint, don't call me that here. Don't ever call me Romanoff or Natalia in my mothers' home. It really pisses the old lady off."

"Gottcha." Clint nodded his acknowledgement of the intel. Then he crinkled his nose a little. "Am I supposed to call you Carter? Cause that'd be weird."

"Why don't we stick with Nat." Natasha replied as she turned the lock and pushed open the door. As soon as she and Clint were inside she closed the door and keyed in the passcode on the secure panel on the wall next to the coat/hat rack. Dropping her duffle to the hardwood floor she was just about to call out to her mothers to let them know she was home when an ear piercing squeal filled the silence.

Clint tensed at the sound of a woman's high pitched shriek, his dominant hand reaching for his bow on instinct only to come up empty. Realizing he didn't have his bow, he reached for the knife in his boot as he whispered, "Nat?"

Natasha knew that sound and it made her roll her eyes, but it also made her smile just a little. Again, if she weren't so damn fatigued she would have thought to call ahead and warn her mothers that she was coming home and bringing Clint with her. She held up her hand, closing it into a fist which told Clint to stand down just as a Brooklyn accented voice rang out from another room.

"Margaret Carter put me down!"

The next sounds that came from within the house but were growing closer were a husky chuckle, a slap muffled by fabric, and a yelp from the same voice that had squealed. The voice that followed was clearly English and full of mischief. "No darling I don't think I will."

"God," Natasha moaned, shaking her head but still smiling ever so slightly. "They're too old for this."

Peggy stepped out of the living room with Angie tossed over her shoulder determined to carry her upstairs to their room. She couldn't help but laugh at Angie's protests, it was her own damn fault for teasing Peggy that she was too old to still carry her off like this, and when Angie pinched her backside again she slapped Angie's again in return. All of Peggy's merriment came to a crashing halt when she spotted Natasha in foyer, and one of her young agents standing near the front door.

When Peggy came to a sudden stop and tensed up Angie did her best to try and see what was going on, but dangling upside down the way she was made it a bit difficult. "English?"

The fact that she'd managed to completely throw her unflappable mother off guard was amusing Natasha greatly and she couldn't help but tease her. Throwing her thumb over her shoulder to point at the door she said, "Do you two need us to come back later? What do you need? An hour or two? Or like twenty minutes at most?"

Peggy had never blushed harder in her entire life as she carefully set her wife on her feet. "Natasha don't be cras."

Natasha snorted. "I'm not being cras, I was politely offering to leave so you and Ma could finish whatever it was you two were starting."

"Nattie, leave your mother alone." Angie said as she rushed over to pull her daughter into a hug. When Natasha tried to hide a soft whimper of pain Angie stepped back and frowned. "Nat?"

"It's nothing Ma." Natasha shook her head as if that would stop her mothers from worrying. "Just a little banged up, nothing major."

Angie's gaze raked over every inch of her child and when she saw that the pinky, ring, and middle fingers of Natasha's non-dominant hand were splinted and wrapped she reached for that hand and raised it up to have a closer look. "Just banged up Natasha Elizabeth, really? This looks like more than just bandged up to me."

There was an amused snort from behind Natasha that made Angie blink. She'd been so focused on seeing Natasha after so long, and then discovering her child had been hurt, that she hadn't noticed the young man with her. "Oh, hi, well this is us being rude as hell."

"Don't sweat it Ma, that's just Barton." Natasha said as she stepped aside, which is when she realized, "Wait, were you hiding behind me?"

"No." Clint snorted as if that were funny. Then he caught sight of the Director standing a few feet away with her arms crossed over her chest and he swallowed and said, "Maybe." He thought he heard the Director clear her throat, and could physically feel her glaring at him, and he instantly stood at attention. "Yes."

Natasha laughed, and then groaned because laughing hurt. "Oh for pete's sake, Mum, say hello so he'll relax please."

"Agent Barton." Peggy greeted simply, but only after she was sure she could speak without utter embarrassment clouding her voice.

"Director Carter, Ma'am." Clint responded, standing at attention, a slight nod of his head in respect.

"Peggy, leave the boy alone." Angie scolded her wife before turning to Clint Barton. She didn't bother trying to hide the fact that she was sizing him up. This young man held her daughter's safety and well being in the field in his hands, and she wanted to make sure he was up to it.

Natasha rolled her eyes at Clint while shaking her head at him and her Mum. "Ma, this is Clint Barton. Clint, my Ma."

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Director-Carter Ma'am." Clint said, still standing at attention, as he held out his hand but before Angie could reply Natasha was slapping the back of her good hand into his chest, causing him to let on oof.

"You're such a dumbass sometimes, Barton." Natasha was careful with her laughter this time. "You do know that Director isn't actually a part of our name right?"

Clint looked at her oddly. "What? Yeah, I know that!" He huffed, narrowing his eyes at her over the teasing. "But what else am I supposed to call them? I mean, what do you call them?"

Natasha blinked at him, and then made a face like she couldn't believe he'd just asked that. "Mum and Ma."

Clint blinked back. "Oh, yeah, right."

"I can't speak for how stuffy my wife will be about it, but Mrs. Carter is fine for now, Agent Barton." Angie laughed softly while accepting Clint's hand. "And it's nice to finally meet you too."

"I'm home for awhile," Natasha said as she looked between her mothers. She saw her Mum relax a bit and smile at the news, and that made her smile back. Then she bit her lip and said, "I kind of brought home a stray hoping he could stay a night or two until he can get to where he needs to go."

"Of course he can stay, angel." Angie said easily, ignoring the look her wife was shooting her. "Why don't you show Agent Barton up to the guest room and I'll make you both something to eat while you get cleaned up and settled in a bit."

Natasha all but groaned. "Dear god yes please! I want real food! And a shower! I really wanna wash my hair!" She whined the last part while holding up her broken fingers and glaring at them, before snatching up her duffle from the floor in her good hand. Then Natasha nodded towards the stairs. "Come on, Clint." He didn't move. "Oh for pete's sake." Looking over at her Mum, Natasha sighed and gave her puppy eyes until Peggy relented with an annoyed sigh and nodded. "Now, come on Barton, I've told you at least a million times that I was starving."

Just as Natasha reached the bottom of the stairs, before she could take her first step, Peggy stopped her. "Natasha." When her girl turned towards her Peggy walked over and wrapped her arms around her daughter in a tight embrace. "I'm glad you're home, poppet."

"Me too." Natasha replied, melting into her mother's arms.

Stepping back from the hug after a few more moments, but staying close, Peggy reached out and gently put her hands on either side of her daughter's ribcage. She could feel the bindings wrapping Natasha's upper torso and frowned a bit. Then she reached up to cup her daughter's face to pull her close and kiss her forehead.

"It's really not that bad Mummy, I promise." Natasha said softly.

"After dinner run yourself a bath, poppet, and I'll come and help you wash your hair." Peggy replied. Natasha nodded and then Peggy let her go so she could lead their guest upstairs. As soon as the pair were out of sight she felt her wife at her side and turned to look at Angie with a mix of annoyance, relief, and humiliation.

Angie just laughed it off. "I guess you'll have to prove that point of yours later, English."

Peggy groaned, turning red again, and covering her face with her hands. "He's one of my agents, Angela."

"Not when he's in this house as our guest he's not, Margaret." Angie said firmly. "That boy is responsible for watching our child's back out there in that chaos and madness you damn Carters insist on jumping head first into. He's her partner, and while he's in our home, that means he's family."

Upstairs Clint was rubbing the back of his neck as he followed Natasha down the hallway. "Hey Nat, maybe this wasn't the best idea. I can just go back to the Trisk and crash in a bunk."

"Ma's not going to let you do that." Natasha said as she opened the door to the guest room. "Mum will come around, she's just a little shell shocked right now, and it's not all because she's the Director and you're an agent."

"It's not?" Clint was skeptical.

Natasha laughed, "A lot of that stiffness down there was her just being English. I mean, agents or not, her daughter and her daughter's friend just caught her being randy with her girl, so she's mortified."

"Right." Clint said as he dropped his duffle on the bed. "This is still going to be weird and uncomfortable as hell."

"The sooner you realize she's a real person the easier this will be." Natasha tells him while putting her hand on his shoulder. "Room's got it's own bathroom, the showers at the Trisk have nothing on these, and once you've had my Ma's cooking, all the awkward will have been worth it."

She leaves Clint to settle in and shower after pointing out which room was hers, and which was her mothers so he could avoid it. She laughed all the way to her room because Clint had actually looked confused by the concept of the almighty Director Carter needing a bedroom. Stepping into her own room she took as deep a breath as she could without causing herself pain, and then let herself relax. Dropping her duffle on the floor she stared at her bed longingly but she knew if she sat down on it she'd end up laying down and then she'd be asleep within seconds. So instead she busied herself with securing her weapons. She was just finishing up when she heard her name called out from down the hall.

"Nat!"

Stepping out of her room Natasha looked down the hall towards the guest room and blinked. Clint was standing in the doorway of the room, frozen. "What's wrong?"

"What is that?" The archer asked while pointing to an orange tabby cat who was sitting right in front of his door staring at him.

"It's a cat, Clint." Natasha said with a laugh. "Did you hit your head or something?" She walked down the hall with a huge smile and as soon as the cat turned it's head to look at her she gently tapped her chest. The cat stood, stretched, and then leapt into her arms with ease. The cat began to purr loudly while rubbing his head against Natasha's cheek. Natasha smiled as she rubbed the cat's ears as she held him. "Clint Barton meet Agent Goose."

"Agent Goose?" Clint repeated as he smiled at the affectionate greeting between his friend and her cat.

"I didn't name him." Natasha said as she tilted her head towards the stairs before she started walking that way. "Fury did."

"Fury?" Clint asked as he caught up to her.

Natasha nodded. "When I was little my Grandad gave me a puppy, a beautiful red and white spaniel. Her name was Rosie, and I loved that dog. She was so smart, and very sweet. When she died I was devastated to the point that my Mum was worried. We'd had a lot of loss and the hits just seemed to keep coming. Fury noticed that Mum was worried, and she told him why, and then the next thing we know he's at the front door with this guy. I wasn't sure I wanted to get attached, but as soon as I had him in my arms, I was a goner. He's such a handsome charmer, aren't you Goose?"

The look the cat was giving Clint over Natasha's shoulder really didn't give Clint handsome charmer vibes, more like rip your face off in your sleep vibes, but whatever. When they reached the kitchen they were instructed by Angie to wash up and sit at the table. Given the lateness of their unexpected arrival Clint hadn't expected a full meal, but moments after taking his seat a plate of chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli and a slice of garlic bread was placed in front of him.

"There's shrimp as well, Agent Barton." Angie said. "I didn't know if you had any allergies."

"Um," Clint replied, blinking at the full plate. "No ma'am, no allergies."

Natasha beamed a smile at her friend, her voice laced with amusement and pride. "I know it's incredibly cliche and horribly stereotypical, but I did tell you my Ma was Italian-American and from Brooklyn, didn't I?"

Clint chuckled. "Yeah, after that time in India when you went off on that cab driver. You were so pissed every other word had a different accent."

"Their fault." Natasha indicated her mothers. "I grew up around a lot of different accents."

"You swore at him in Hungarian." Clint smirked at the memory.

Natasha's expression turned soft, a warm but somewhat sad smile tugging at her lips. "My godmother was Hungarian."

"Ana was one of the sweetest, kindest, gentlest gals you'd ever meet." Angie said softly.

"Unless you disrespected someone she loved, or dare do something as stupid as threaten the well being of one of her little ones." Peggy added. "Then she could be rather frightening."

Clint smiles. "Kind of sounds like my Mom."

After dinner Clint offers to do the dishes but Angie shoos him and Natasha both upstairs to get some sleep. "You both look dead on your feet." She'd said as she chased them away with a dish towel. "When was the last time you two slept for more than an hour or two? I can already tell you haven't had more than whatever you pack in your gear to eat."

Natasha and Clint looked at each other and then back at Angie and shrugged. Once they were back upstairs Natasha said goodnight to Clint, telling him to send her love to Laura and Cooper. Then she slipped into her room, heading straight to her bathroom to fill the tub with hot water. The mention of her Aunt Ana had her rummaging through her basket of essential oils for rose and chamomile to add to the epsom salts her bruised and battered body screamed for. After getting undressed and tossing the support bandage she'd been wearing into a drawer with other wraps and bandages she'd collected over the years, Natasha carefully eased into the hot water. Leaning back with a sigh of relief she closed her eyes, completely forgetting that one of her hands was bandaged as well. She nearly plunged that hand into the water until a firm but gentle hand stopped her. Opening her eyes Natasha grinned sheepishly at her mother.

"Suppose we don't ruin the splints and bandages allowing your broken bones to heal properly, darling, hmm?" Peggy says softly with amusement in her voice that doesn't altogether conceal her concern.

"Sorry." Natasha replies. "I forgot."

Peggy huffs lightly, but there's a warm smile on her lips. "Of course you did." It was only years of experience and practice that kept Peggy from reacting to the angry bruises that painted her daughter's pale skin all along her sides and down her back. It wasn't always easy for Peggy to balance her professional side with her maternal side. The pride she felt because Natasha was becoming one of the very best at what they had both chosen to do with their lives, often warred with the rage she felt over the fact that her child was getting hurt doing it. "What happened, Nat?"

"Nothing out of the norm really," Natasha answered. "More muscle than the recon indicated, and most of them raging out on something nasty, probably not street level, lab grade stuff, and getting beat down by a girl just seemed to make the rage worse." They talked out what happened a little more but then Natasha changed the subject. "You're not actually mad about Clint are you?"

"Mad?" Peggy shook her head as she gently poured water through her daughter's hair. "No, poppet, but I am feeling a bit out of sorts over the situation. I've tried very hard to keep as much of SHIELD out of our home as possible, and…"

"But Clint isn't here as a part of SHIELD, not really." Natasha cut in as she carefully drew her legs up to her chest to wrap her arms around. Resting her chin on her knees as her mother worked shampoo into her hair she continued, "He's here because he's my best friend, he's as wrecked as I am, and he needed a place to crash until he could go home to Laura that wasn't a lonely bunk at the Trisk."

Peggy raised and eyebrow at that. "I hadn't realized you and Agent Barton had gotten that close."

"You save each others' lives enough times and you're bound to form a bond. I mean, I trusted him enough to tell him who I really was, and he trusted me enough to tell me you and Fury kept his family off the books. So," Natasha's eyes were closed again, for the first time in days her body wasn't tense and blanketed in pain. "I kind of think, well, I kind of feel like maybe he's my version of what Uncle Howard was to you."

"Well," Peggy said softly, a bit shocked but also grateful that Natasha had someone she could trust and rely on the way she clearly did with Clint. "Than Agent Barton must be far more remarkable than some give him credit for."

Natasha snorted, and groaned softly at the pain that it caused. "Yeah, circus boy is more than he lets on. Fury has a good eye for talent and potential that others miss." She snorts and groans again. "Good eye."

Peggy chuckled at her little girl laughing at her own pun. "You're so tired, my darling girl."

"Little bit." Natasha hummed.

Peggy left Natasha to get out of the bath and get dressed, and then returned with two cups of tea, a box of Scottish shortbread biscuits, a package of Jammy Dodgers, and a bottle of water. "Pain meds, poppet?"

"Duffle bag." Natasha answered from where she sat on her bed with Goose in her lap, a towel around her shoulders, and her long red hair splayed out across the towel in wet strands. While her mother went in search of her meds, Natasha snatched up the package of Jammy Dodgers and ripped into them. When her Mum handed her her pills and the water she took them without complaint.

"One braid or two, love?" Peggy asked as she carefully eased in behind Natasha after grabbing the girl's comb and some hair bands.

One was faster and easier, but Natasha was feeling a little clingy and wanted to keep her mother to herself as long as possible. "Two."

Peggy smiled, leaned in and kissed the crown of her girl's head. As she gently began to comb out and section of Natasha's hair she easily slipped into telling her a story. "Did I ever tell you about the time you Mama and I almost gave Jarvis a heart attack?"

Natasha smirked, to relaxed and content to see where this was going. "Did he catch you carrying Ma around like a caveman too?"

"No." Peggy replied, her tone casual, but her smirk mischievous. "Angie had me pinned up against the wall in the library of the penthouse we were living in at the time, with her hand up my skirt, and my hands inside her blouse, full of the red lace bra she was wearing."

"NOPE!" Natasha startled Goose right out of her lap. "TMI, Mummy! Seriously!"

Peggy laughed. "After that Jarvis always did his best to ring ahead."

"Ok, got it, call first before I bring people over." Natasha moaned softly at her mother as she once again rolled her eyes. Then she grinned a very braty girn "Geesh, you're spiteful when you get cock blocked."

Peggy used the comb in her hand to smack the side of Natasha's thigh as she laughed. "Cheeky!"

It had been several months since they'd seen Natasha, and at least three weeks if not a full month since they'd gotten a call from her, so it wasn't surprising to Angie that when she went looking for her wife she found her still in their daughter's room. What she did find a bit surprising, and really funny, was the slight look of panic on Peggy's face when she walked in. "Everything alright, English?"

"No, I really have to pee and your daughter has a vice grip on me." Peggy replied. Natasha's head was resting just beneath Peggy's breast bone, and she had her arms wrapped around her. Safe in her own home, in her own bed, in her mother's presence, Natasha was dead to the world in her sleep. "Extracting myself isn't as easy as it was when she was small, and unable to beat me in one armed push-ups."

Angie laughed quietly so she wouldn't wake their daughter as she moved across the room to the other side of Natasha's bed. Gently sitting on bed behind Natasha, Angie reached out and started to softly but firmly rake her nails down from the nape of Natasha's neck to the middle of her shoulder blades. It took a few rounds of this, but gradually Natasha loosened her hold on Peggy enough for the other woman to extract herself. Angie watched as her love kissed their daughter's temple and whisper sweet dreams before fleeing their child's room for their own. Then she made sure Natasha was in a comfortable position that would allow her to sleep through the night despite her injuries, and then tucked the young woman in and kissed her forehead before whispering in Italian, "Beautiful dreams, my sweet angel."

Clint stayed in his room the following morning letting his senses tell him the story of the house. He could hear movement down the hall, and then downstairs, which were soon followed by typical morning smells. This told him that the Director and her wife were up and already going about their morning. Still, he stayed in his room. He didn't even crack the door open until he was fairly sure he heard movement coming from Natasha's room. Then and only then did he leave his own to gently knock on her door. "Nat." He whispered. "You awake?"

"Yeah, come in." Natasha's voice called through the door.

Clint rushed inside and closed the door with a soft click behind him. Then he spun around to talk to Natasha, but before he could say a thing it hit him. He was standing in Natasha's bedroom, her childhood bedroom! He had to take it all in. Despite the fact that he knew Natasha better than anyone outside of her family, it still startled him for some reason that the room wasn't all pink and white and girly. Weren't all little girl's bedrooms pink and white and girly?

Natasha's room was warm. The wall behind her bed was a warm medium gray with hints of a dark red, painted in large swirling brush strokes. The other walls were all a very light white-ish gray. The wooden frame of the low headboard was black, while the soft upholstered part was a lighter gray than the accent wall, but much darker than the other three. The comforter was the same color as the plush part of the headboard, but the pillows Natasha was leaning back into were black, red and white. Over the headboard, in a frame with the same width and height of the headboard, hung a black and white photograph of a dancer in mid leap with a shock of red coming from the scarf trailing behind her. It took Clint a minute to realize the dancer was a fifteen or sixteen year old Natasha.

There was an alcove with a big window and window seat, which could be hidden away by a set deep red curtains, which were currently pulled back to let in the light. There was a custom desk and bookcases built into the far wall on the opposite side of the room from the bed. The bookcase shelves not only held books, but some of Natasha's various trophies and ribbons showcasing some of her childhood achievements, as well as more personal mementos. The long shelf over the desk seemed to be home to several war era inspired teddy bears. Above the sliding closet doors were several vintage Brooklyn Dodgers pennants, and above the door Clint had just walked through hung a wood cross. Turning his attention back to Natasha who was sitting in her bed, Clint noticed the bedside tables. They were black iron and glass, and atop one of them was a beautiful handcrafted marble sculpture of a ballerina who appeared to be entwined with a rosary. If he were to ask Natasha, which he might someday, she would tell him that the rosary belonged to her Aunt Maria, and that Tony had had the sculpture made for her personally. Natasha's love for ballet and opera had come from her Aunt Maria, and Tony had found a way to honor that for them. If Clint dared to ask she would also tell him about the Star of David in the shadow box next to the sculpture, and how her godfather, her Uncle Howard, had mixed the very last oz of vibranium he had left with gold to make the Star for her godmother, her Aunt Ana, and the cross Natasha wore around her own neck.

There were framed pictures all over the room as well but before Clint could even began to take in the smiling faces behind the glass, Natasha spoke up.

"Where you really expecting it to be full of rainbows and unicorns, Clint?" Natasha's voice was full of laughter as she watched the whirlwind of expressions on her best friend's face.

"Kind of?" Clint laughed nervously. "I've never been in a teenage girl's bedroom before. I just thought all girls had pink bedrooms full of ponies and unicorns and glittery stuff."

Natasha smirked. "You never snuck into a girl's bedroom when you were a kid?"

"No." Clint huffed at her. "Edith Barton raised a gentleman."

"So did Margaret and Angela Carter but I still know what my high school boyfriend's bedroom looked like." Natasha teased.

"You wouldn't be a gentleman, you'd be a lady." Clint said, rolling his eyes as he flopped onto Natasha's bed.

Natasha smirked. "Not sure my college girlfriend would agree, she found me quite gentlemanly." Clint made a face, and she laughed. Then she stretched out her leg and poked him with her toe. "Did you need something, Barton?"

"No, not really." Clint replied.

She watched him for a moment and then started to laugh. "You're too chicken shit to go downstairs without me, aren't you?" Laughing hurt but it was worth it for the look on his face. Getting out of bed, Natasha slipped on her fuzzy monkey slippers and picked up Goose to cuddle him as they headed downstairs. "Come on circus boy, I'll protect you from my super scary Mum."

"You teasing me isn't helping." Clint pouted as he got up and followed.

"Yeah," Natasha replied. "But it's fun so don't think I'm going to stop."

After Clint got over the shock of Director Carter making breakfast, nutella and strawberry crepes were one of Natasha's favorites and Peggy made the better crepes, things went a lot more smoothly than the night before. This time Clint wouldn't take no for an answer, and cleaned up after breakfast. Then he got talked into a wicked game of dominos before Natasha drug him off to the family room to watch movies.

Peggy watched the young man while he was in her home, and took to heart what both her wife and daughter had said, and knowing what Barton meant to Natasha helped her come around and agree with Angie. By the time he was walking out the door two days later with Natasha, who was driving him to the airport, Clint Barton was family.