This prompt was a lot of fun, and i could have made it hilarious, with it involving tony stark, a trained hawk, and video cameras, but i really wanted to go with a slightly sad, yet happy ending sort of tale :) so i did! this was a great prompt so i hope you enjoy! leave your own prompt on your way out- i consider all options!
Prompt from Helena
Oh fluff, sweet sweet fluff XD
How about a chapter where Clint plans something (or just stops spending that much time with her) and Natasha gets jealous because she thinks he has a girlfriend.
I know it pretty cliché but what can I say? I love fluff and Clintasha :D oh and please keep ON writing (:
Chapter 4
Natasha swears she's loosing her mind.
Since when did it matter to her what Clint did with his time? He put plenty of hours into the archery range, or hanging with the guys, or just not being with her in general and it never bothered her before.
Not like it bothered her now.
He disappears only once or twice a week at first, only gone for several hours or less.
Nat didn't pay attention to it at first—after all, Clint had always been a free spirit, and he never enjoyed being tied down like he had been living at SHIELD's headquarters. He could go where he wanted in Stark Tower (as long as he promised not to touch the lab or break anything) and he frequently did so, either practicing his skills or just walking around to walk around without having to worry about clearance issues telling him where he couldn't go.
She begins to worry when he disappears more frequently, and returns looking a little worse for wear, as if he'd been caught in a few fights on his way home.
Still even then she doesn't say a word; just watches when he comes back to the Tower at increasingly late hours, bruised and battered, to fall in bed and sleep for a few hours prior to getting up at five in the morning and repeating it all.
*(*)*
"Someone looks like they fell outta the nest last night." Tony comments one morning.
Clint rolls his eyes at the multi-billionaire. He certainly felt like he fell out of a nest, though he wouldn't tell Stark that.
Natasha walks in as Clint is about to leave with a mug of overly sweet coffee. He freezes, nearly spilling his drinks and calls out quickly.
"Nat, I almost forgot!"
Natasha turns to face him, her slight anger at him never being around any more dissolving with the sound of his voice.
"I was wondering…"
She raises an eyebrow. "Go on…"
"If you could wish for anything, what would it be?" He questions.
Natasha at first questions his reasoning behind it, then deems it unimportant, actually thinking about what he asked.
She knew what she wanted, but it wasn't possible, so why bother telling him that. He probably knew it already anyways. They were very good partners already.
"I don't really have anything in mind, Clint." She says simply, unsure what else would suffice.
"Really?" He seems surprised. The question is in his eyes though, and Natasha knows that he's thinking of the same thing.
Her ledger could never be bleached of that red—so why bother telling him that?
"Really." She says firmly.
Clint shrugs, and the smile returns to his face. "Okay." He says a little too brightly.
Natasha rolls her eyes at him, but the archer ignores it and continues. "I'm leaving on a solo op in a half hour, and I'm not sure when I'll be back."
"All right." She says. "See you when you get back, I guess."
His grin widens.
*(*)*
The first week he was gone weren't all that different than the last month he had seemed to avoid all contact with everyone in the tower. But she slowly starts noticing little things—no one had raided the sheets closet to make a larger nest. His sunglasses sat abandoned on the kitchen counter (no one dared move them for fear of being disemboweled). Stark was forced to watch My Little Pony on his own, much to his dismay.
Pepper was the first one to comment on it however.
"It's weird." She starts out, bringing Natasha out of her thoughts sharply.
"What is?" Natasha asks curiously. Pepper seemed to be the only one able to hold a civil conversation. Other than Barton of course, but even he got a little distracted most the time.
"It's just odd I guess. It's weird not seeing you two together. Even after he was telling me about your birthday coming up next week, I was sure he'd put the mission off until afterwards."
Natasha doesn't bother to hide her surprise. She never remembered her own birthday, much less celebrated it, so why would it matter to Clint? "It probably couldn't wait." She answers.
Pepper shakes her head slowly. "I don't know. Maybe he'll still make it back in time."
Two more weeks pass, and Natasha has to admit she's getting nervous—she pushes it back though, knowing that Clint didn't say exactly when he was getting back and that missions like this could possibly be deep covers.
Another week.
Its just a day before her birthday when she gets the news as she sits in her room reading. The ringing of her phone breaks through what Clint calls her 'book barriers' and she jumps, setting it down on the table prior to snapping it open.
"Widow." She says coldly into her cell.
"Barton was injured." Fury says quickly, getting right to the point. He knew very well Nat's hatred of drawing things out. But those words freeze her in place, and her eyes go wide.
"What happened?" She asks, switching the phone to her other ear. Natasha finds the strength to move her legs and gets up, swiftly heading down the hall to Clint's room.
"Got shot twice on his way to the evac spot. It's not good, but the doc says he's holding steady."
"Is he at SHIELD?" She asks, getting into Clint's room without a problem. She rummages through his room, grabbing several things he'd probably want, such as a book and a very well hidden sketch book, along with his favorite orange pencil.
"He is as of now."
"He awake?" Natasha says, shoving those things into a bag and throwing it over her shoulder.
She can almost hear the tense humor coloring his words when he says, "Do you think he'd still be here if he was?"
Nat doesn't laugh, but has to admit it's true.
"I'll be there in ten."
Fury knows it's a thirty minute drive, but he doesn't say anything. "Drive careful, Romanoff."
Natasha makes it to headquarters in record time, at 9 minutes and 37 seconds, all but running to the infirmary.
"Barton." She says harshly to the nurse at the front desk.
The lady pales. "Of course, mam… down the hall, second door on the left." She squeaks out, the clipboard she holds shakes with fear.
Natasha stalks down the hall, glaring at all who pass.
Of course, Phil Coulson has already arrived by the time she gets there; the handler sat next to the still archer, looking as if he had been waiting.
"How is he?" She asks.
She knows how bad he looks—she was never fond of all the white, the cleanliness, the awful smell. And Tasha hates how incredibly vulnerable her partner looks. He's so still and small, covered in wire and tubes.
"He's been better." Phil says with a sigh.
Nat catches herself staring at her partner, and wills herself to tear away her gaze.
"He lost a lot of blood, and one of the bullets nicked a lung, so his breathing was tricky for a while, but they got it under control."
"So he'll be okay?" She breathes.
Phil nods, getting up from the uncomfortable plastic chair, his back cracking audibly. "I've been here since they brought him in yesterday… so you can sit with him for a bit."
Natasha doesn't ask why they didn't call her in yesterday, but decides Phil was probably trying to save her some worry.
When the handler leaves, Nat finds herself crawling up onto the hospital bed next to Clint, though she doesn't remember when she got the idea or when her body moved to do so. But she doesn't want to get up, and instead snuggles next to Clint, careful of the wires and tubes.
She doesn't even notice as she starts nodding off, in a shallow sleep until a jerky movement and a moan makes her eye snap open.
"Tasha?" Clint mumbles blearily. He blinks rapidly, as if remembering something of the utmost importance. "Shit!" He gasps out.
"November fourth." Natasha says slowly. Then she glances up toward the clock on the wall, as it displayed that it was half an hour past midnight. "The fifth now." She corrects.
He slumps against his pillow, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Damn. I missed it."
"Missed what?" She asks, her relieve allowing a bit of humor to return to her voice. "The crazy train on its way to the insane asylum? You just got shot, Clint. I think you have a good reason for being late for whatever you're late for."
"Do you seriously not know what yesterday was?" Clint asks in horror, his voice scratchy.
Natasha thinks about it. "It was my birthday, but I don't see how that's very im-."
Barton pulls her back down roughly, and kisses her with what she might describe as a passionate irritation, her words seeming to upset him.
"Don't say it's not important. It's never not important." He says firmly.
"Well, you haven't exactly been around for a while. Even before you left on this stupid mission you were never there."
Clint looks incredibly apologetic and opens his mouth to reply, but stops himself, sighing. He reaches over to the night stand, and reaches for one of the drawers, trying to be careful about his stitches. Barton pulls out something that glittered silver and he hides it in his hand and says, "I can explain, but I'm going to give you your present before I become even later."
Barton take her hand and drops something cold in her palm, weakly closing her fingers over it. "Happy Birthday, Nat." He says with a hazy smile.
She stares down at the thing he had given her, almost unable to understand. The object was a simple locket, but it seemed to have a place far back into Natasha's memories. Like a dream she had forgotten once she had woken up.
Natasha cracks the small locket open, and takes in a sharp breath. She recognized the picture instantly. Her mother and father stood side by side in the black and white photograph, holding a newly born baby with a dark wisp of hair and bright intelligent eyes.
"How did you get this?" She whispers.
"I saw it… in Fury's desk a while back. And I knew it had to be your mothers. So I asked for it."
Tasha looks doubtful. "And he just gave it to you." She says flatly.
"No… He told me I'd have to do some favors for it. That's why… I was always gone. He wanted help with training the new agents. And then he said he'd give it to me once I came back from this mission. And it wasn't a walk in the park." Clint takes a few deep breaths.
Natasha suddenly feels bad about being angry. He was doing all of it for her—just for a measly locket that very well could have belonged to someone else.
She lays back down next to the archer, snuggling into his unwounded side gratefully. "I am sorry for being mad at you." She says softly. "Thank you… this really means a lot to me."
Clint smiles. "I know. That's why I did it."
Natasha can feel herself falling asleep, and mumbles, "I love you, Clint."
His reply sounds like it's miles away as she nods off, finally content. Now, with her best friend and lover safe beside her, she is as peaceful as she could ever be, and ten times happier.
"I love you too, Natasha…"
so, what did you think? tell me in a review, and be sure to leave suggestions! i even take anonymus reviews into account! (todays oneshot idea actually did come from an anon, so ya know;)
much appreciated! thanks for reading!
love,
gilraenstar :D