Author's Note:
Hello, thank you for all of your support! I really enjoy writing this story!
Thank you to the two who reviewed the previous chapter, it means a lot to me: Junipa Ivanova and Princess2016.
Clint stared at the item in his hand in something akin to disbelief. The box of provided personal photos was completely full of pictures from various points in their lives- well, mostly his; there were only two pictures of Nat that he'd found so far, all during late teenagerdom, and the rest were mostly his school pictures. The one he held was from his old daycare provider when he was… four? Why was his hair bleach blonde? And did he have… a mullet? He cringed. "Who in their right mind sees this haircut on a kid and doesn't immediately break out the shears?" He muttered, mostly to himself. He hoped Natasha hadn't seen the embarrassing photo.
Natasha appeared behind him, quickly grabbing the photo. "Oh, weren't you cute? We should frame this one." She teased, a grin on her face.
Clint groaned. "No! We should kill it with fire." He objected sulkily.
"Definitely not." She countered.
"Um, yes, we should." Clint argued, crossing his arms. He didn't care how childish he sounded- he wanted the picture gone.
Natasha smirked. "Even if you get rid of this picture, it was printed at SHIELD- therefore this is not the only copy."
"Noooooo!" Clint cried dramatically. "Now they have blackmail material! I'm ruined! Ruined!"
"Clint, grow up- I don't want to be married to a child." Natasha rolled her eyes, throwing the photo at him.
He caught it deftly, still frowning. "And yet you really want to show off a picture of me as a child." He retorted. "A bad picture, too! That haircut is a nightmare!"
"I think it's cute." Natasha insisted with a smug grin.
Clint scowled. "I am not cute! That picture is not cute!" He persisted, knowing full well this wouldn't get him anywhere.
Natasha twisted her arm awkwardly and managed to zip up her knee-length tea-dress. The cream colour matched her skin tone perfectly and the red roses patterned across it matched her hair- she frowned as she wondered who had done the shopping for her. She clipped her hair back and stepped out of the bathroom.
"Woah- and all I've got is this." Clint commented as he gestured to his fancily-patterned shirt and khakis. "You look really nice!"
"Thanks, but I'd rather be in the khakis and shirt." Natasha replied, lifting the skirt and securing her gun on her holster before letting it drop. "You look good." She added as an afterthought- complimenting one another should come naturally if they are married.
Clint slipped on some dressy shoes. "Why thank you- I spent hours perfecting this look." He sent her a lopsided smile.
Sliding on her shoes, she sent him a half-smirk. "I can tell- you usually look like a scruffy idiot; now you're just an idiot." She teased.
"Shut up," he retorted, though his smile hadn't left. "I wish I could make a similar remark, but a man shouldn't be so rude to his wife."
"What are we? Stuck in the 1940s?" Natasha remarked.
"Hey, I'm allowing you to wear that inappropriate dress, aren't I? I mean, I can totally see your ankles! Scandalous!" Clint replied, combing his fingers through his hair.
Natasha gasped. "My ankles! I must not leave the house!" She teased before picking up her bag. "Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be." Clint said. "Let's go be 'neighbours'."
She nodded. "Let's go."
Clint double-checked his 'dressy casual' outfit, pleased to find no wrinkles or folds, before sharing a look with Natasha and ringing the doorbell. The early-evening sunlight bounced off the glass of the screen door and made him have to squint uncomfortably.
"Joelle, it's the new neighbours!" Peter called after pulling the door open. "Come on in, you two. The missus is just finishing dinner."
"Thanks again for having us!" Clint said enthusiastically, internally hoping this wouldn't be as terrible as he feared. He'd never been one for formal dinner with neighbours.
Peter waved it off with a small smile. "No trouble at all. This way." He led them into a rather quaint dining room with floral wallpaper and soft lighting. The table was set for five people. Clint was confused, as he'd thought it would only be him, Natasha, Peter and Joelle. "Our youngest will be down in a moment." Peter explained upon seeing Clint's slightly furrowed brow.
"Your youngest- that's Laura, right?" Natasha asked.
Joelle walked in. "Laura's our oldest- Courtney is our youngest. I'll go get her." She said, walking straight back out of the room.
Poor woman seemed so busy. Clint glanced over at Peter, who was now languidly sitting at the head of the table, cutting up a ham. The man beckoned them to sit at his left. "So how are things coming along with the house? I know ya just moved in today, but you seem like the types to get lots done." Peter asked conversationally.
"Our furniture was pre-delivered and set up, so we only had a selection of items to unpack. A few boxes each, that is." Natasha replied with a soft smile.
"That's handy." Peter commented. An awkward silence befell the small group, making Clint feel compelled to come up with a conversation topic.
"Do you guys have any pets?" He blurted, almost wanting to slap himself at how forced and idiotic it sounded.
Peter chuckled. "Used to have an old sheepdog, Curley. She passed a few years ago, though. Now we've got a cat that we rarely see."
Natasha lips turned upwards, her eyes flicking around the room; she was obviously looking for said cat. "I'm more of a cat person, personally."
"So's Courtney. She dresses that thing up like a princess or like a bumble bee- then she lets it wander the neighbourhood like that. The other neighbours always get a kick outta that."
Clint laughed a little. "So if we see a well-dressed cat, we know whose it is, then."
"Poor kitty." Natasha said stepping to the end of the room and picking up a honey-coloured cat.
"Mo-om! I don't want to!" Came a young girl's voice from down the hall. "They're old, anyway- it's not like they have a kid my age! Please don't make me!" Ah, that must have been Courtney.
Natasha looked at Peter. "I can tell she's super excited to meet us." She joked.
Peter frowned. "She's only seven, so she gets this rowdy attitude that Joelle and I aren't much fond of." Moments later Joelle returned, gently pushing a little girl in front of her.
"Mom! Stop!" Courtney protested futilely. Clint wanted to greet her, but got the feeling that any address from him or Natasha would be unwelcome.
Natasha sauntered over to Clint, half offering for him to stoke the cat as she leant in and whispered in his ear. "That kid's a brat- there's no way we'll get the parents to talk while she's here."
Clint gave a tiny nod of agreement. "We'll have to wait till she's gone." He replied before turning back to the family. Courtney had been forced into the chair on Peter's other side, with Joelle seated beside her. "Hello, Courtney. I'm Clint Cole, and this is Natasha, my wife." He introduced.
"Nice t'meetchu." Courtney muttered, not making eye contact. Joelle sighed exasperatedly.
"I apologise for our daughter's behaviour." She offered.
Clint shrugged. "It's fine- kids will be kids, after all." Natasha's expression and hum was less understanding as she took her seat, releasing the cat.
"Alright, ready t' eat?" Peter asked, spearing a slice of ham and putting it on Clint's plate, then doing the same with Natasha's and his wife and daughter's. "Mashed potatoes are in that bowl there."
"Thank you. This looks delicious!" Clint praised, taking a bite of the meat. It was really good.
Natasha took a bite and made a sound of approval. "Hmm- can we come over everyday? This is truly delicious."
Peter chuckled. "Sure- but it'll cost ya." His smile indicated he was just kidding.
"Mom, I hate ham." Courtney whined.
"You should be thankful, little girl. I never got anything this good when I was your age." Natasha said coolly.
Courtney paused and stared at Natasha. "But…" She trailed off, turning to her father. "Daddy! The new neighbour's being mean!"
Peter fixed the girl with a stern stare. "Courtney, you'd best get your act together before your ass is in trouble." He scolded. Clint was almost tempted to laugh; apparently this was one of those families that didn't practice the 'no cussing around the children' rule.
Natasha's eyes narrowed at the young girl for a split second before it stoned a 'natural' and calm look. "It's fine, she can be disrespectful if she wishes; she does live here."
Joelle opened her mouth to respond but closed it and looked at her daughter. "Eat your food."
Courtney spluttered indignantly before sinking in her chair and muttering, "Fine." Clint winced. This was a nightmare- apart from the amazing food, of course. He decided to lighten the mood.
"So, what are the best qualities about this neighbourhood?"
Peter scratched at his balding head for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Well… there's a public park a few blocks down, and Mrs. Dunsey, next door, loves makin' industrial-sized batches of cookies that she'll share with the littluns." He looked to his wife, as though asking silently if there was anything else she could add.
"There's a zumba class for adults on Mondays, down the block- it's really fun." Joelle replied. "Apart from that, it's just the neighbours."
"Anyone particularly interesting? It seems like every neighbourhood has its share of interesting people." Clint continued.
Surprisingly, it was Courtney who eagerly answered. "Oh! Mr. Donovan, on the next street over, was in jail once! He said it was for having lots of medicine or something." Joelle and Peter shared a horrified look.
"Courtney, stay away from Mr. Donovan." Peter ordered. Courtney gave him a confused look, but his expression must have convinced her not to argue.
Clint awkwardly cleared his throat, which made Peter seem to remember what they'd been talking about. "Well, aside from that guy, there's the Tinneys, the family four doors down with seven biological children and four foster children. They're always out and noisy at around noon, by the way."
"Good to know."
"Let's see…" Joelle chipped in. "There's Ms. Liu, about two blocks east, who fosters shelter dogs- she always lets Courtney and her friends play with them."
The conversation lasted for almost twenty minutes, and by then everyone was done eating. Joelle took Courtney upstairs to get her ready for bed while Peter took Clint and Natasha to the living room, offering them each a glass of wine. "Once again, sorry Courtney acted like that. She's been moody lately."
Clint offered a reassuring smile. "It's fine- we're used to snotty kids after the last apartment complex we stayed in." Natasha picked up the act easily.
"Oh, there was a family of at least four children on either side of us, and they always loved playing in the hallway directly outside our door at ungodly hours." She said sourly.
Peter winced sympathetically. "Damn, I don't envy you."
Natasha shook her head. "So far, I prefer this neighbourhood."
"'m glad. Hopefully you two can add some more colour to it." Peter replied.
"Speaking of which, I was meaning to ask earlier: are there many kids on this block, other than Courtney and the Tinney family's?" Clint asked, deciding it was time to get to the important questions at last.
Peter thought for a few moments. "Well, let's see… There's the Ketin twins one block down, then there's… oh, there's the li'l Rothman boy. I think the rest of the neighbours 're mostly elderly or childless."
"Rothman… that sounds familiar. Anything significant about that family?" Clint probed carefully.
Peter shook his head. "They were trying for a long time to adopt, and I remember 'em complaining about being treated unfairly."
"It was a surprise when they finally adopted Ryan, because it all happened pretty quickly. At one point they were denied, and then a few weeks later he was living with them." Joelle added as she entered and sat by her husband.
Clint hid his eagerness about that subject very well, he thought. "That seems odd." He commented casually. Peter jerked his head in a nod.
"Yeah, we were really shocked. They're a good family, but after being denied a few times for… I'm not sure what… we were surprised- but happy for them- when they managed to adopt Ryan."
Clint cleared his throat. He wanted to ask more questions, but that would be leaving the 'appropriately curious' zone and would be a little too conspicuous and obvious. They needed to be careful about how much they tried to get out of these two- they needed to do it in moderation, otherwise the neighbours would start to get suspicious.
"We should head back home- I'm pretty tired. It was a long drive here earlier." Natasha said softly, standing up to leave.
Clint stood as well, as did Joelle and Peter. "Thank you so much for having us- the food was amazing and this was fun." Clint said kindly, shaking their hands. "We'll be sure to invite you over to our place sometime once we're unpacked."
Natasha nodded in agreement. She and Joelle hugged briefly. "You're welcome over any time." Joelle commented.
"Thank you." Natasha replied sweetly before taking Clint's hand and pulling him out the door a little faster.
"Bye!" Clint called over his shoulder, getting friendly waves from the couple before turning back to their house and following Natasha inside. Once the front door was closed behind them, he let out a sigh. What a night.
Thank you for reading!
