November 2014, Manhattan

Thanksgiving had been unlike anything Natasha had experienced before. Tony and Pepper had hosted a huge lunch in the penthouse at midday with all the trimmings, and then Kate and Clint took her to Bed-Stuy, to the Thanksgiving party on the roof.

She would never have admitted that she was nervous about that, but she had no reason to be; the residents welcomed her like she had always been there, and were far more interested to meet Natasha, Clint's girlfriend, than Natasha, the Black Widow.

Two days later, on Saturday morning, she was curled up in the armchair in their apartment (she had given up calling it Clint's apartment) with Liho curled up on her lap.

When Clint heard the name, he had laughed so hard he fell out of bed (partly helped by her playful shove), and hadn't stopped joking about how they had a dog called Lucky and a cat called Unlucky.

Natasha wasn't going to tell him that was precisely why she chose the name; she'd never hear the end of it.

Kate had taken Lucky out to the park for a run, and Clint was in Tony's workshop making trick arrows, so she would probably have to go and drag him out for dinner.

In the meantime, Natasha was taking the chance for some peace and quiet, Liho purring contentedly against her abdomen.

"Ms Romanov," JARVIS said. "Wanda is outside the door."

"Let her in please, JARVIS," Natasha said. "Out of interest, why don't you call me Natasha?"

"You've never asked me to, ma'am."

Natasha considered that. "Fair point. Please call me Natasha."

The apartment door opened and Natasha gave Wanda a wave. "Come on in. What's up?"

"I have no idea," Wanda said. "I was meditating, and I got the feeling that you needed to talk to me."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Was that a premonition, or …?"

"No," Wanda said thoughtfully. "No, I don't think so. If it was, I'd know what you wanted to talk about."

"Well, I'm always happy to talk to you," Natasha said. "You know that, but I can't think of anything specific."

"Are you sure?" Wanda asked.

Natasha thought for a second, stroking Liho's ears. "Well … There is one thing that you might be able to help with. I just … I'm not sure if I want to know the answer."

"Well, why don't you tell me what the problem is, I'll tell you if I can help, and then we'll figure out if you want me to," Wanda suggested.

Natasha scooped Liho up and moved to the couch, for some reason wanting to keep the conversation quiet, even though they were alone and she knew JARVIS didn't listen in. "Liho was a gift from an old friend … an old colleague, really. We worked together in Moscow briefly."

"Sergeant Barnes," Wanda said with a nod. "Steve has asked if I can help."

Natasha smiled knowingly. "What did you say?"

Wanda shrugged. "That I probably can, but I won't do anything unless Sergeant Barnes asks. Darcy knows where I am. He's had quite enough people poking around in his head without permission; I refuse to be another one."

"Thought so." Natasha was quiet for a moment. "He remembers the op as two months, but I only remember ten days. I did … The Red Room had the same chair they used on Barnes. I know I was in it at least once, so I know that I have memory missing. I've always known that. That, I can deal with. But now I'm missing time as well, and … What if it's more than just that six weeks? I know I have a variation of the serum."

"You're wondering if you're like Steve and Peggy," Wanda concluded.

"I'm already older than my file says," Natasha said. "My file said I was born in 1983 when Clint brought me in, which I know isn't true. What if I'm … I can deal with being the same age as Clint. I'm fairly sure I am. If I'm a few years older, that's not too bad, but … I can't outlive him by decades, or centuries, I just … I can't."

Wanda reached out to let Liho sniff at her fingers, as she stretched and stepped off of Natasha's lap to investigate this new visitor.

The kitten conceded to a few pets, before returning to Natasha's lap, where the purring started up again.

"She loves you," Wanda said.

"Can you tell?" Natasha asked.

Wanda smiled. "I can actually. Some animals do actually have discernible thoughts. She's adopted you, as far as she's concerned."

Natasha chuckled, giving Liho a scratch under her chin. "Good girl."

Wanda gave her a more serious look. "Well, I can certainly take a look and see if those memories are accessible. If they are, I can give them back, if you want. If not … I can at least tell you if you are the age you believe you are."

Natasha took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Let's do it."

Kate's breath pooled in the air in front of her as she walked through Central Park, Lucky darting around at her feet, barking at pigeons."

"No," she murmured, pulling him back. "You're never going to catch them. And you're going to break my neck at this rate."

"Kate?"

Kate turned so quickly she almost broke her own neck. "Natalie, hi! How was Times Square?"

"Big," Natalie said. "And loud. This is better." She bent down to pat Lucky, who was straining against his lead. "Hi baby! What happened to your eye?"

"We're not sure," Kate said. "He's a rescue. This is Lucky."

"Hi Lucky," Natalie cooed, rubbing his ears. "Aren't you gorgeous?"

"Careful," Kate warned. "He'll adopt you."

"That doesn't sound like a deterrent," Natalie said with a grin.

In daylight, Kate could see her smile clearly, and it made her heart stutter a little in her chest.

Lucky barked, tugging on his leash again, snapping her out of it.

"Yes, I know. Um … I'm taking him to the dog park so I can let him off, give him a proper run," Kate said. "Do you, maybe, want to come with us?"

Natalie nodded, straightening up. "I would love to. I love dogs; always wanted one."

"I don't know what I'd do without Lucky," Kate said honestly. "He's a good boy."

"I'm glad I ran into you again," Natalie said as they began walking. "I nearly asked for your number the other night, and then I thought I might be too old for you, if you're still in school."

"I gradate in May," Kate said, trying to sound casual. "I'm eighteen."

"I'm twenty-two," Natalie said. "That's not too bad. Did you think I was too old for you?"

"No," Kate answered hastily. "I've just … never done that .. before. Not exactly a social butterfly."

"Me neither," Natalie said. "I'd rather have a few people I can really trust and rely on than a load of 'friends' who barely know me."

"Exactly!" Kate said, opening the gate to the dog park. "I cannot wait to be out of school." She bent down to unclip Lucky's leash. "Now play nice, you hear?"

Lucky barked and bolted off.

Kate clipped the leash to her belt loop so she didn't lose it, and turned to Natalie again. "Please don't tell me that high school is the best time of my life."

Natalie snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. What are you going to do when you graduate?"

Kate hesitated. "I have an internship at Stark Industries," she said. "Hopefully that."

"I hear it's a good place to work," Natalie said.

"It is," Kate said, bracing herself for the inevitable questions, but they never came. "What do you do when you're not on vacation? Or making a new start?"

Was it her imagination, or did Natalie hesitate as well?

"This and that. I pick up contracts."

"Like construction?" Kate asked.

Natalie shrugged. "Construction, demolition … wherever the job leads."

It seemed like a strange business to be in, but then who was Kate to judge?

Her parents were assassins.

"I never got your last name," Natalie said suddenly.

Kate actually considered giving her the old one. She was fed up with people looking at her and seeing her parents (and didn't they warn her about that?).

She just couldn't bring herself to say her old name.

"Barton."

To her relief - and somewhat surprise - Natalie showed absolutely no signs of recognition. "Kate Baton. Lovely to properly meet you."

Kate laughed, shaking her hand. "Likewise, Natalie …?"

"Longbottom."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Natalie grinned sheepishly. "It's a curse."

Kate gave in and giggled. "You on Twitter?"

"Oh, no," Natalie said. "I don't do social media. Too distracting. And you can't believe half of what you read on it anyway."

That would probably explain why she didn't recognise the name 'Barton'.

"Fair enough," Kate said. "I suppose we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way then."

"Texting is old-fashioned?" Natalie asked.

"It is according to the freshmen at my school," Kate said. "They make me feel old."

Clint left Tony's workshop with a whistle that evening. He had spent so long creating his own trick arrows that he had forgotten how fun it was to work with someone else, bouncing ideas around, mainly because R&D at SHIELD had been surprisingly uncreative.

Tony's mind seemed to run the same way as his though, and then he had called Fitz up to join them.

Maybe he should invite Kate along and start teaching her how to do it too - not that he wanted to encourage her in the slightest, but he knew she'd love it (and he bet she had some brilliant ideas too).

She wasn't going to be home this evening - Pepper had taken her out to dinner, supposedly as a thank you for all her help, but Clint had a feeling that it was also Pepper's way of teaching Kate … something.

He wasn't sure what it would be, but Pepper was always teaching Kate something.

He was so grateful to her for that.

To all of them, really, who had accepted that he had a daughter without blinking an eyelid and taken her into their family like she was their own.

None more so than Natasha.

Clint would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it, sitting in Kate's hospital room while she fought off the infection, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was now her father, that he could now protect her the way he had been trying to for years.

Of course he had thought about how Natasha would fit into the equation - there had always been him and Natasha, and him and Kate.

There was no overlap.

There could have been.

Should have been, really - he knew that now - and although he and Natasha had talked about it, he still saw the slight hint of pain in her eyes when she looked at pictures of a younger Kate, and he wished he had told her right from the outset.

He had thought about it then, dreamed of a day when Kate had two parents, not just one.

But he hadn't been surprised when she wasn't prepared to take that step.

Not surprised, and not upset.

That Natasha had grown to love Kate as quickly and completely as she had was a surprise, and one that was a blessing.

The apartment door opened as he approached, but he stopped just inside with a frown.

Lucky was waiting for him, which was normal, but he wasn't doing his usual energetic oh-thank-God-you're-home-I-thought-you-were-dead routine.

In fact, he almost looked … betrayed.

"What's up, buddy?" Clint asked, scratching his ears. "Nat?"

There was no answer, but a few more steps into the apartment told Clint what was wrong with his dog.

Liho was fast asleep - and curled up right in the middle of Lucky's bed.

Clint snorted. "She steal your bed?"

Lucky just looked at him.

"She's just a kitten," Clint said. "She's a baby. Just … share. There's enough room."

Lucky didn't move, and Clint sighed. "You know she doesn't like me very much."

That wasn't really a fair assessment - the kitten was amiable enough with him and Kate, but when she was tired or asleep, she would only allow Natasha to touch her.

Lucky nudged his ankle with his nose and let out a little whine.

Clint grimaced. "Alright fine." He bent down and stroked the kitten's forehead with one fingertip. When she didn't protest, he scooped her up and moved her forwards a few inches.

It earned him a hiss, and a swipe at his hand, but Lucky's tail started wagging, and he delicately stepped into the basket so he could curl up around her.

Clint shook his head, fetching a tissue for his now-bleeding finger. "You're lucky I love you. JARVIS, where's Natasha?"

"She is on the roof, and has been for several hours."

Clint frowned, his eyes darting to the coat rack by the front door where Natasha's jacket still hung. "She must be freezing."

"She is still within the parameters of my sensors," JARVIS said. "Her body temperature has dropped, but not to a dangerous level. Nevertheless, I have advised her to return inside soon."

Clint pulled on his jacket and grabbed hers. "Thanks, J. I'll go and find her."

Natasha was sitting in Pepper's garden, surrounded by lavender. She seemed lost in thought, so he made sure not to sneak up on her.

Despite his loud footsteps, when he placed her jacket over her shoulders, her hand shot up and grabbed his wrist.

Clint moved with her so she didn't break anything. "Easy, babe. It's me."

Natasha relaxed her grip, her whole body sagging. "Sorry."

"You're not usually that lost in thought," Clint said, sitting down beside her. "JARVIS said you've been up here for hours. What's wrong?"

"I spoke to Wanda earlier," Natasha said softly. "Ever since James told me about Moscow, I've wondered if I'm missing more time than just a few weeks."

Clint felt his blood run cold, and he wrapped an arm around her.

She was still shivering.

They had never looked into the impacts the serum had on her. She healed relatively quickly, but she scarred, unlike Steve and Peggy, so he was fairly certain she was ageing.

But the thought that she was a lot older than they thought she was terrified him, for no other reason than that would mean he was that much closer to losing her.

"And are you?"

"No," Natasha said softly, sending relief coursing through him. "No, I"m about the same age as you are, which is what I thought. But they took … they took something else from me."

"What?" Clint asked softly.

"When I was twelve, I was put undercover in Ohio," Natasha said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I knew that, and I knew I didn't remember it, but I didn't think much of it. There were four of us, sleeper agents during the Cold War. Mom, dad and two kids. We were there for two years."

Clint frowned. "Two years just for a sleeper role? You were the Red Room's best operative. Why did they send you?"

"I don't know," Natasha said with a sigh. "Alexei Shostakov was in charge of the op. He infiltrated a scientific research lab. Come to think of it, it might even have been a SHIELD base. Melina Vostokoff was our 'mother' They called her the Iron Maiden; she was … everything the Widows were told to be. Cold. Detached. But she spent two years being my mother. And she was a good mother, Clint. Especially to Yelena."

"The other kid?" Clint asked.

Natasha nodded. "She was three when we started. I don't think she even knew we were undercover until the Red Room came to take us back."

"And they hadn't formed an attachment over two years?" Clint asked.

Natasha snorted. "Alexei was an idiot. He tried, but he was the Red Guardian. Russia's answer to Captain America, just without the moral compass, just blind patriotism. As far as he was concerned, Yelena and I returning to the Red Room was some kind of honour. And Melina … of course it was all an act."

"Iron Maiden," Clint murmured.

"Yelena was so scared," Natasha whispered. "I tried to protect her, Clint. I fought so hard, because she wasn't bad. That's what they told us, that we were bad, so the Red Room was what we were built for. I believed that about myself, but Yelena wasn't bad. She was the sweetest little girl, and … It wasn't fair. I tried to protect her."

"But you couldn't," Clint finished, "because you were outnumbered."

"They put me in the chair," Natasha said flatly. "They made me forget her, Clint, and then I abandoned her."

"They made you forget her," Clint repeated. "You didn't abandon her, Nat; you didn't remember her." He squeezed her shoulder. "Come on; let's get back inside. Have you checked the files."

Natasha shook her head, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "No. I … I think I'm too scared."

"You want me to?" Clint asked gently.

Natasha nodded. "Yes please."

"Alright," Clint said guiding her into the elevator. "Does she have a last name that you know of?"

"She was entered with Belova," Natasha said, "but that doesn't mean that's what she's still going by."

"It's a start," Clint said. "JARVIS, can you search the Red Room file for any mention of Yelena Belova, and send the results to my phone?"

"Of course, sir," JARVIS said. "Natasha, may I suggest that you raise your body temperature as soon as possible?"

Natasha smiled weakly. "Thanks JARVIS."

"Thanks," Clint echoed. "I'll keep an eye on her."

By the time they got back to the apartment, the files were already on Clint's phone, so he convinced Natasha to go and warm up while he read through them.

Like Natasha, Yelena did not have a personnel file, but her name did come up in various reports.

A lot of reports.

One particular file jumped out at him, and he read it three times before conceding that - yes - he had read it correctly, and - yes - he was going to have to tell Natasha.

He was still staring at his phone when Natasha came padding out of their bedroom, wrapped in a robe, her hair damp.

She took one look at his face, and gave one small nod. "She's dead, isn't she."

"Not that I can tell," Clint said. He set his phone aside. "You ready?"

"No," Natasha said honestly, squeezing into the armchair with him. "But go ahead."

"She was really good, Nat," Clint told her, shifting to let her legs fall over his lap. "Really good. Too good to risk apparently."

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked.

For the first time in all the time he had known her, she sounded afraid.

Clint sighed. "They put her on ice, honey. Like they did with the Soldier."

Natasha made a little noise that just about broke his heart, and he tugged her closer, letting her press her face into his neck, ignoring the wet heat of tears as they began to fall.

"She was as good as you, Natasha, even though she was only nine. They decided to put her on ice until they didn't have you anymore."

"So she wasn't there for long," Natasha said, the words vibrating against her skin.

Clint grimaced, knowing she couldn't see him. "No, honey, they let her out about thirteen years ago. I think that …" he cut himself off hastily.

"I killed everyone who knew about her," Natasha finished anyway. "Didn't I?"

"Maybe," Clint said, although that was what he had been thinking, and she knew that. "Either way, she's out now, and from the looks of things, she's their new golden girl."

Natasha shook her head. He couldn't quite make out what she was saying, her words muffled now by his shirt, but he could take a guess.

"We'll find her, Tasha. I promise."

Okay, folks, that's the end of Assemble. I am working on the next story, as yet untitled, but I'm still on the first draft, so don't expect it any time soon. When I do post it, it will be when I've finished it so you get weekly updates again :) Until then, take care.