August 2000
Los Angeles, CA
SHIELD
For as friendly as Clint could be with most everyone he met, he didn't seem to have that many close friends. That meant that, more often than not, it was just him and Spencer together. When they were both in town at the same time, neither one of them on missions, they were often together hanging out in Spencer's room, or down at the range shooting together-Clint was slowly teaching Spencer how to use the bow, something the both of them enjoyed-or even out at Clint's apartment together. There were gaps of time where Clint vanished, went off for a while to do something or other that wasn't a mission, and he rarely ever spent weekends on base. But other than that, their free time was spent together. Spencer cherished it. This was his first honest, real friend, and he loved their time together.
So when someone new was added to the mix, well, later on Spencer would admit he didn't exactly react well.
Their first meeting wasn't anything special. Spencer, in female form as usual when outside her rooms, was on the range practicing with the bow Clint had left for her. She'd just drawn her arm back when she felt the man's presence at the edge of her senses. She'd long since tuned herself to him. Her arrow hit the target just as she felt him hit the nearby hallway. By the time he was opening the door, she was pulling back the bow once more, lining up her shot.
Someone was with him. Spencer registered the other presence-empathy only, this person had strong telepathic shields-and then dismissed it.
"Elbow up." Clint called out to her. His footsteps came closer and Spencer snuck a quick look, taking in the slight limp, the cut on his nose and the bruise that went over his eye and up to his temple, as well as the tender way he was moving that suggested something with his ribs. He was all smiles, though. His hand came out and caught under her elbow, pushing it up to where it needed to be. Then he let go of her and Spencer made sure of her aim before she let the arrow fly. It landed just shy of center.
Clint was nodding his approval when Spencer turned to face him. "You're getting better, kid."
"Thanks, old man." Spencer said dryly. He knew how much she hated to be called kid. She was just a couple months shy of eighteen, not eight.
She ignored his chuckles and turned her focus to the person who was stepping up to stand beside him. The first impression Spencer got of the woman was beautiful. Not just beautiful-someone who knew they were beautiful. Red haired, slender, with bright and sharp eyes that were looking over Spencer just as much as Spencer was looking over her. She wasn't too tall, just a bit shorter than Clint. But there was something in the way she held herself that made it clear she knew how to handle herself in a fight. Every inch of Spencer screamed out threat.
Spencer raised her eyebrows as she met the woman's eyes once more. "And who are you?"
"Hey!" Clint smacked at her arm, a chiding look on his face. "When'd you turn so rude?"
"It comes from prolonged exposure to you." Spencer said, never once looking away from the woman.
Because she was watching, she caught the slight twitch of the woman's lips, the hint of a smile that was gone before it could form. Then she was smiling at Spencer, one hand coming up to extend towards her. "I'm Natasha."
Spencer looked down at the extended hand and then back up to Natasha's face. She couldn't explain what it was about this woman; she just knew she didn't exactly like her being here. No matter how she smiled, or how at ease Clint seemed to be with her. Spencer wasn't going to be tricked by a pretty face. "Charmed."
There was confusion coming off of Clint; he knew Spencer didn't like people but he also knew she wasn't usually rude. Not without reason. "Pardon my brat." Clint finally said as Natasha dropped her hand once it became obvious Spencer wasn't going to say or do anything else. The archer shot Spencer a chiding look and then smiled back at Natasha. It only made Spencer want to grit her teeth. "She's not usually this bad. But if she won't introduce herself, I will. Nat, this is…"
"Erinyes." Spencer said, cutting in. Knowing Clint he'd introduce her by her actual name and Spencer didn't want this woman having it. It wasn't hers to use.
She both saw and felt Natasha startle and then, almost instantly, tense. "Erinyes." There was a hint of Russia to her voice. Something about it pinged in Spencer's memories. A second later, it all clicked into place. "You have quite the reputation in certain circles."
It was like a light went off in Spencer's head. She knew-she knew-where she'd seen this woman before. "Black Widow." This time it was Spencer tensing.
That tiny smile was back. "Indeed."
"Soooo…" Clint drawled out, looking back and forth between the two. "I take it you two know each other?"
Spencer kept her eyes on Natasha while waiting to see what she would do. Every inch of Spencer was ready to move, to grab Clint and yank him behind her, safely out of the way. "We've never personally met." There was a coldness to Spencer's voice now that hadn't been there since her early days here at SHIELD. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this, Widow?"
"One could ask you the same thing, Erinyes." She fired back smoothly. Her eyes flashed over to Clint, making Spencer lean towards him instinctively, and then looked back to Spencer. That stupid little smile was still there. "I get the feeling our stories might be a bit similar. I was brought in and given a chance to change my life. To work for the right people instead of the wrong ones. Much as I'm guessing you were."
"Don't presume you know anything about me or my story." Spencer snapped.
"Spencer!"
The way Clint snapped out her name had Spencer taking a step back. That was actual annoyance in there, mixed with a hint of confusion. He didn't understand what was going on here. Honestly, neither did Spencer. She couldn't explain why she felt so annoyed with the woman; only that she was. But she was upsetting Clint and that wasn't something she was willing to do. With a deep breath to help keep control, Spencer made herself pull off the quiver she had on and pass both it and the bow to a stunned Clint, who took them without thinking. "My apologies. I don't believe I'm the best company right now. If you wouldn't mind putting those away for me, Clint, please."
She didn't give him a chance to say yes or no. By the time he gathered enough voice to call her name, she was already halfway across the room and didn't bother stopping for him. She just kept going until she was out the door.
The minute she was out the door she took off at a run. It wouldn't surprise her for him to try and follow her. She wasn't going to let herself be found. That meant she couldn't go to her room. At least, not for long.
She raced down there and quickly gathered up her coat and wallet. Then she was slipping out the window, not wanting to risk finding him in the halls. Practice helped her slip through the grounds without being seen. In no time at all she was exiting the compound. Maybe she just needed a little bit of time out. Being cooped up too long could make her cranky sometimes. Maybe that's all it was.
Somehow, Spencer didn't quite believe it.
By the time Spencer was slipping back into her room that night, it was far past the curfew she was supposed to abide by, but she felt a lot more relaxed than she had when she left. More tired, too. She hadn't managed to figure out what it was that had bothered her so much about Natasha. Nothing the woman had done had been overtly threatening. She hadn't done anything to cause Spencer to react like this.
Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice at first the body in her rooms with her. When she finally did, she almost jumped out of her skin. How could she be so foolish as to not check before coming in? When had she become so complacent?
Turning around, she looked over to where Clint was propped up against her wall, arms crossed over his chest and eyes fixed right on her. She tried to smile at him, though she knew it came out just a bit weak at the edges. "Hey, Clint."
He didn't bother snapping at her, though she could see he wanted to. He was still a bit upset, though mostly what she was getting from him was worry. Instead, he just stood there a moment watching her. Then he calmly asked "You gonna tell me what's going on?"
"Nothing." Spencer said immediately. She saw the skeptical look on his face and tried not to sigh. Of course he wasn't going to believe that. He wasn't an idiot. Lifting one hand, she pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to push back the headache that was starting to build there. "I don't know. It's nothing, Clint. I just... There's no excuse for being rude and I know that. I'll apologize to her tomorrow."
She heard the sound of his clothes shifting and when she dropped her hand to look up, she found him watching her curiously with his head tilted. Any signs of annoyance were gone. "Are you okay?"
Leave it to him to be worried about her when she'd been the rude one. Spencer gave him a small, soft smile, one that no one else ever got to see. "I'm fine. I think I'm just tired."
His expression shifted to one of understanding and sympathy. "Nightmares?"
He was the only person aside from her therapist that knew she had them. He'd been witness before when they woke Spencer up. Unlike most people, Spencer didn't wake up screaming or fighting. She compacted herself into the smallest target possible and hid. Sometimes it was under the bed, sometimes the closet. Once she'd half woken from one and run away from him. It'd taken him ten minutes to find her curled up in the cupboard under the sink. Spencer's instinct always seemed to be to run and hide.
"I'm okay, Clint." She tried to interject as much confidence into that as possible. She even smiled at him. Or, as best as she could manage. "I'll be fine. And I'll apologize to your new friend tomorrow."
"Nah, don't worry about that. Nat's cool. I'm sure she'll be fine. Just…" He paused, shrugging one shoulder at her. The way he was watching her was like he could see right down inside her, though. Like he could see past the walls she was trying to put up. "I know you don't really like new people and all, but she seems like a good person an I think you'd like her. Just give her a chance, all right? For me?"
What could she say to that? He so rarely asked her for anything real. How could she turn it down? Pasting on a smile, she pushed aside the still weird feelings inside. "Of course."
The way he lit up at that made it worth it.
Honestly, Spencer tried. She really did try to keep that promise. She had hoped that by morning she'd be a lot more relaxed and a lot less tense when dealing with Natasha. Seeing her was kind of inevitable, considering they all worked for SHIELD, but that didn't mean that they were going to have to interact a bunch, right? There were plenty of people here that Spencer rarely ever interacted with. Maybe if she only had to deal with her in small doses she might get more comfortable around her.
That wasn't at all what happened. Much to Spencer's dismay, it suddenly seemed like Natasha was everywhere-and she was always with Clint.
At mealtimes, out on the range, the training field, the lounge area. Even Clint's apartment! When Spencer dropped by there just a week after Natasha's arrival, she'd found Clint in the shower and Natasha hanging out on the couch. It'd taken Spencer all of ten seconds to make up an excuse and go. Her plan for avoiding the woman was failing miserably. Every time she turned around, Natasha was there, and she was always there with Clint.
Even when Clint came to Spencer's apartment alone, he always seemed to end up talking about Natasha. What she was doing, how her evals were going, how Phil had taken her on as one of his people. How much fun it was going to be to go on missions together.
For almost a month Spencer put up with it. She did her best to avoid them, but when she had to deal with her, she kept herself polite. She put up with Clint's incessant babbling about her, biting her tongue to keep from snapping at him. Until one day it was just too much.
With Spencer's up and coming birthday, Clint had been helping her try and find herself an apartment in the city. Somewhere that she'd be able to call her own that might have a bit more privacy than the base would. They'd picked out a few places and Spencer had taken plenty of time that morning to print out the information for each one so they could go out, just like they'd planned, and look them all over. She had them in hand when she made her way towards Clint's apartment in town.
She'd expected to find a slightly sleepy but mostly ready Clint when she knocked on his door. She even had a coffee in hand, ready to give it to him in hopes of getting him to wake up some-because that man was never alert without at least a pot of coffee in him. What she hadn't expected was to find that Clint was already up, dressed, drinking coffee… and that he had company.
The sight of Natasha stretched out on Clint's couch had Spencer wanting to growl. Clint didn't seem to notice it; he never did. He just beamed at her when he opened his door. "Spencer! Hey, wow, what a surprise. You're here early!"
Early? Spencer checked the clock on the wall as she stepped inside. It was eight. This was when she was supposed to be here. She turned to look at him, furrowing her brow as Clint shut the door and came in. He didn't give her time to answer, already talking as he moved. "Nat and I were just about to head out and grab some breakfast. Why don't you come with us?"
"Breakfast?" Spencer repeated slowly. She looked over at Natasha, who was paying attention without looking like she was, and then back to Clint.
Clint grinned. "Yeah. You know, that meal people eat first thing in the morning?" He caught sight of the papers that she was holding then and his face fell. Spencer felt sure he'd remembered what they were, and what was going on, until he opened his mouth. "Oh, man, don't tell me there's a job or something like that. Phil didn't call and tell me anything!"
"There's not." The words came out automatically, almost no emotion to them. Spencer wasn't sure what she was feeling right then. Clint had forgotten. He'd forgotten about what they were going to do, about plans they'd had for weeks, to… what? Go to breakfast with Natasha?
Setting down the mug he'd been holding, he gestured with one hand towards the stack of papers. "What're those, then?"
Something inside of Spencer felt like it opened up and tried to swallow her down. The bad feeling in the pit of her stomach she'd been ignoring lately grew stronger. She tightened her hold on the papers and the coffee and pulled them a little closer to her chest. "Ah, nothing. They're nothing. I'm sorry; I didn't realize you guys had plans. I'll just…"
She tried to turn to go, only for Clint to quickly reach out and catch her arm. "Woah, hey, no. You don't have to go."
"No, it's fine. I've got something else I should probably be doing anyways." Spencer said. She avoided looking over at Natasha. If she did, she had no idea what she might say or do. That feeling inside was growing worse and she didn't know what it was or what she would do if it took her over. She just knew she suddenly wanted out. Anywhere far away from here.
"Spencer." A weird sort of tone entered Clint's voice. It was one that Spencer didn't know. She didn't have a name for it. But she couldn't look at him to try and figure it out. Her eyes were off to the side, towards the door, avoiding him even as he stepped right up to her, still holding her arm. "Hey, kid, what's going on? What's wrong?"
What's wrong? What's wrong? Those two words echoed around inside of Spencer over and over again until she swore she actually heard the last thread of her patience snap. Pain washed over her; only, it came out of her mouth in anger, the safest emotion she had right then. "I don't know, Clint. Why don't you go ask her?"
"What're you talking about? Spencer, what's going on?"
She should've heeded the warning in his voice. The one that told her she was pushing too hard and honestly upsetting him. But her own emotions were too high for her to think about anyone else's. "Nothing." Spencer snarled out. The pain inside grew bigger and bigger. Hand clenching on the papers she still stupidly held, the ones she'd printed off special for today, she finally turned to glare at him, not letting herself soften at the worried look on his face. "Not a damn thing's going on. Enjoy your stupid breakfast." With a low growl, she slammed the papers and coffee against his chest, hard enough to shove him back a few steps and crush the cup, making him cry out in pain and surprise. Then she turned and ran away
She ended up back on the base. Where else was she going to go? She didn't have anywhere else. No apartment, no car, nowhere to go and hide. The one place she usually hid at was the one place she was running from.
With as much as she had inside of her, there was nothing Spencer wanted more than to spar. Unfortunately there wasn't anyone here with the strength to take what she knew she'd probably dish out right then. That left a different kind of physical activity. Spencer headed straight for the range, stopping off only long enough to grab the practice bow and arrows. Hopefully the concentration that required would help her relax before she ended up screaming or breaking something.
Stupid, stupid. It was the chant that played in her head as she set herself up. Stupid! This is why you don't trust people. This is why you don't make friends. Because eventually they're going to find someone better than you. And you're going to get left behind, again and again.
Spencer's hands shook for one brief second as she grabbed an arrow. Growling, she forced them steady, forced them to not betray her, and she let that arrow fly.
Arrow after arrow were sent racing towards the target. Her aim seemed surprisingly better than normal, but her strength was pushing it. The bow groaned a little under her fingers when she wasn't careful with it. Yet, the whole process seemed to be helping. Fire all the arrows furiously, go and gather them, come back, start over. She repeated that a few times and let herself get a bit lost in those repetitive movements. The workout helped calm and center her enough to take the sharper edge off her emotions.
At least, it did, right up until the door opened and three new agents came walking in. The sight of them had Spencer wanting to groan out loud.
Though Spencer wouldn't claim to be friends with anyone here aside from Clint, she'd gotten better about working with other people. They weren't always comfortable around here but they could work together. There were only a few that Spencer would actively say she disliked or that caused trouble. Rick Kurtz, a new Level 1 agent fresh from the Academy, sat at the top of that list.
For the most part she tried to avoid him and his friends. Rick's problem, she knew, was with the fact that Spencer hadn't done academy training, hadn't done any of the things he'd done to get here. She was simply brought in, quite a bit younger than all of them, and just made into an agent without doing what Rick considered the work for it. Because of that he liked to say things to her, insult her behind her back, or try and imply over and over the countless different ways he believed she'd managed to get to the position she was in. His most common theory was that she was using her powers to manipulate people into letting her be here.
Spencer ignored it. She knew better. The things he said, she just learned to let them roll off her back. It wasn't the worst she'd ever heard. That didn't mean it wasn't annoying.
It wasn't hard to see when Rick noticed her. The shift in emotions was easy to feel, disgust and resentment coming on strong. Once more Spencer made the mental note to bring it up with Jason. People like this probably shouldn't be put out in the field yet. Not until they could learn to control those kinds of emotions.
Spencer made damn sure to ignore whatever they were saying over there. Her own temper was still too close to the surface to handle an idiot right now. And she did okay with it, for the most part. Right up until Rick's voice carried loud and clear across the room, saying a name that immediately had Spencer paying attention.
"You see Barton's new pet assassin?" Rick asked his friends. He was deliberately making sure his voice was loud enough to carry. "Man, talk about hot. Makes you wonder, don't it?"
"Wonder what?" One of the others asked, their voice a bit hesitant. It was a man, Nehemiah, probably no more than six or seven years older than Spencer, who was always the quieter one of the group. He was the one that Spencer would've pegged as the smartest. Sharp eyes generally took in every single detail around him. He wasn't quick to judge or anything; he took his time with what he saw. If he could get away from friends like this, he'd make it far. Then again, any friends at all were a weakness, one way or another. Hadn't today proved that?
Rick's laughter echoed around the room. "What exactly he does for these girls that they're willing to follow him everywhere. I mean, he's got himself not just one, but two little pet assassins now. What's so special about him that he keeps bringing them in, huh?" There was another laugh and, though she didn't want to, Spencer caught the way Rick's thoughts were turning there, the things he was thinking about Clint, and she almost threw up right then and there. That feeling was followed by a type of rage she hadn't felt in so long.
She reacted before she could think about it. One arrow was drawn out and after a quick calculation she let it fly. It gave her great satisfaction to watch it land in the wall right in front of Rick's face. He jerked back, swearing roundly, only to find Spencer marching up on him. The other two went tense, their bodies suggesting they were ready to leap in, and Spencer didn't even care. She kept her focus right on Rick. She held the bow up and used it to point at him as she got close. "I've kept my mouth shut no matter what you say about me, but let me make this absolutely clear to you, Agent." In a flash she dropped down and kicked her leg out in a sweep, knocking his legs out from underneath him. She flowed forward and straddled his chest, her knees pinning down his shoulders and the bow twisted, the string pressed right over his throat. She held it there as she bent down low. "You watch your mouth when you speak about him. You'll be lucky if you manage to ever be half the agent he is."
There was noise near the side of the room and Spencer sensed who was coming in. That presence had her wanting to scowl; her hands instinctively tightened on the bow. Great. The very last person in the world she wanted to see.
Footsteps paused just inside the room. Then Natasha's voice called out "Is there a problem here?"
Spencer didn't move for a moment. She stayed where she was, staring down at Rick below her, making damn sure he knew she meant exactly what she'd threatened here. When she was satisfied, she smiled. "No." She called back. The bow was drawn away from Rick's neck and then Spencer was smoothly rising up to her feet. "No trouble at all. Isn't that right, Rick?"
"You're insane." Rick spat out. He shoved up to his feet as well, a lot less gracefully than Spencer had. Temper was rolling off him and his eyes were flashing hot and bright. "You're fucking certifiable. I'm going to report this!"
Before Spencer can snap out any sort of response, Natasha took a step forward. She somehow managed to make herself look intimidating, even in the workout pants and tank top she was wearing. It shouldn't have worked, she should've looked lazy and sweet and a bit delicate maybe, but there was something about her that made Rick lean back ever so slightly. "Will you?" The Widow asked him, her voice low and with a hint of a husky purr. "When you make your report, be sure to mention just how hard you were when Erinyes pinned you. I'm sure your superiors would find that… interesting. Especially considering that she's still legally a minor. In fact," She turned to look at Spencer now, cocking one eyebrow as she did. "I'm sure you could make a report of your own, Erinyes. Yes?"
Well, it was true, Rick was often turned on around her. He'd propositioned her once. She'd thought about it for a second before turning him down. There was no purpose to sleeping with him. No job that required it, no one ordering her to, and he wasn't high enough on the chain of command for her to do it simply to please her superiors. He ranked under her, actually. Spencer hadn't ever really thought that much beyond it after she'd said no. She knew it upset him, but she wasn't really worried about the remaining attraction. Plenty of people were attracted to her. It was just something she'd learned to deal with. But, reporting it? Spencer shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. Are there rules here involving sex?"
Natasha shrugged right back at her, looking as casual as if they were discussing the weather. It was a huge contrast to how Rick had gone pale. "I'm not yet aware. There might be. Most places have rules against sex with those under the age of eighteen, at least in this country."
"We never had sex. There was nothing to gain from it, so I told him no." Spencer answered honestly.
Rick, if possible, went even paler. It made no sense to Spencer why that expression seemed to please Natasha. The woman smiled at him in a way that probably made plenty of grown men want to wet their pants. "Well then. Perhaps we won't have to worry about it. We'll have to see." She looked him over, smirking, and then deliberately turned her back on him to face Spencer. "If you're done here, would you like to join me for a spar?"
The temper that Spencer had been fighting all morning loudly demanded YES. The rest of her wanted to glare at the woman. Why on earth was Natasha trying to spar with her? "Didn't you have plans?" She asked. It was hard to keep the bitterness from her voice.
Again, Natasha shrugged. "My companion found himself suddenly busy with a mess he needed to clean up." The words weren't sharp, yet they had Spencer wanting to flinch anyways. Then Natasha surprised her by adding "I thought I might help him."
Well, this was interesting. Spencer stared at her for a moment before making her decision. She gave a quick nod. "Sounds good."
They left the men behind and headed side by side out of the room. Natasha didn't say anything at first. Not as they walked down the hall, and not as they hit the open outside field where people sometimes liked to spar at. It was more open out here and left a lot of room for people to move around. There were other agents out here, people doing their own workouts or sparring sessions. Natasha led them to an open area a bit away from everyone. Then she walked right to the center of their spot and turned to face Spencer. Her eyes were bright, laser focused right on Spencer, and there was an openness in her emotions that was so strange compared to the hard barrier around her mind.
Natasha tilted her chin and watched Spencer as she joined her a bit more hesitantly. When she opened her mouth to speak it was with a bluntness that was startling. "You don't like me."
"I don't know you well enough to dislike you." Spencer said. It was true, if not the whole truth.
As if she understood that, Natasha nodded and amended her words "You don't want to like me." Then, continuing to be blunt, she added "You feel threatened by my presence with Clint. At first I ignored it. I assumed it was the same as it was with any other woman. But it's not, is it? Anyone who spends time with you two knows there's nothing sexual between you."
That thought made Spencer's lip curl. Sexual, between her and Clint? Ew. God, no!
Whatever the look on her face was, it made Natasha chuckle. "Yes. I can see how wrong I was. You feel threatened of me, but not because of my looks. Because I've stepped in and taken a place that, until recently, has belonged solely to you."
The words hit the nail on the head perfectly. It put voice to things that Spencer hadn't wanted to admit even to herself. Admitting it felt… wrong. Clint wasn't property. He wasn't someone that could be owned or taken. Nor was he hers to get upset about having to share. Yet that didn't stop her from feeling that way.
"I don't want to take him from you, Erinyes." Natasha's voice was a bit quieter now, full of a seriousness that kept Spencer from interrupting her. "I never intended that. But I won't give up my place, either. True friends are hard to come by for people like us. I won't give mine up."
"So what do you want from me, then?" Spencer asked, finally speaking up. Where was Natasha going with all this? Was she just rubbing things in Spencer's face? "From where I stand, you're already getting what you want. What's the purpose of this, Widow?"
"I want to make peace."
"By offering to spar with me?"
A hint of a smile touched Natasha's lips. "Sometimes a little blood has to be shed before peace can be found."
The two women faced one another for a long moment without saying a word. Spencer calmed herself as she'd learned to do long ago, steadying her breathing and finding the stillness inside of herself. Maybe Natasha was right. Maybe whatever anger Spencer felt needed to find an outlet before they could find peace together. At the same time, hurting her didn't seem to be the right or healthy option here. Her therapist would probably tell her exactly how unhealthy it was. And Clint wouldn't like it.
Just when Spencer opened her mouth, ready to say no and walk away, Natasha attacked.
It was an open, easy move, one that Spencer saw coming right away, and it took no effort for her to dodge it. Only, the minute she did, she was met with a high kick that she just barely ducked. Instinctively she dropped down into a defensive crouch, body bracing. "Widow…"
"Erinyes." Natasha mocked her. She grinned and then struck again.
Spencer cursed and immediately flowed into the defensive moves. Only, no matter how much she blocked, Natasha kept coming. Over and over she attacked Spencer in a deliberate attempt to draw her out. People all around the yard were stopping to watch. None had really seen the Black Widow fight and only very few had seen Spencer fight at all. Only those that had been with Erinyes on missions had seen her fight, and even then only rarely. But they were all watching now, and they all saw the moment when Spencer finally decided enough was enough and she started to fight back.
The whole area seemed to go quiet as people all around stopped to watch the two women fight. They were a startling display of strength and agility-beauty and grace, death and destruction.
A sudden blow from Spencer sent Natasha almost flying backwards. She hit the ground, rolled, and shoved right back up to her feet, laughing the whole way. "You've been holding back!"
Of course Spencer had been holding back! She knew her strength, even if the people here didn't. She knew the damage she could cause. "Your point?"
With an impressive twist of her body, Natasha ended up on Spencer's back, one arm around her neck and legs around her waist. She bent in close, voice right by Spencer's ear. "Don't."
Spencer snarled. Who the hell did this woman think she was? Fine! If she didn't want Spencer to hold back, well, she wouldn't let go completely, but she'd make her realize just how stupid a request it was. Spencer let go of just a fraction of the control she had on herself and she let her body flow into the moves that had been drilled into her until she could do them in her sleep.
There was a collective gasp through their gathered crowd as Spencer moved almost too fast for them to even see. What she did, they couldn't tell, only that it ended up with Natasha flying off of her and hitting the ground hard enough to bounce and skid a little. She didn't wait around for Natasha to get up, either. She was fully on the offensive now.
The two came together and broke apart again and again. Dirt, sweat, and blood were marking their skin. Where the blood came from was hard to tell. Neither one seemed to be stopping. No one stepped between them, either. They watched and waited, making quiet bets on who was going to walk away the victor. When Natasha got Spencer pinned down to the ground, one arm wrenched up her back, they were sure it was over, that the older woman had won. Right up until the sound of a loud crack filled the air. More than a few eyes widened in horror when it became clear what had happened. Instead of backing down-Spencer had shoved backwards, very clearly breaking her arm in the process. It stunned everyone, Natasha included, and gave her enough space to shove the other woman back and push up to her feet. In front of horrified eyes, Spencer twisted her arm, making it crack once more-the bone in her bicep snapping back into place. Then she rolled her shoulders and lifted both hands, launching forward once more.
They might've gone on for a lot longer if it hadn't been for the two arrows that landed in the ground-one in front of each woman. No one needed to even ask where those came from. Only one person would be firing them.
A second later Clint came strolling towards the field and, damn, he looked pissed. Spencer stood where she'd frozen, arrow still right in front of her, hands at the ready and her chest heaving a little from the energy she'd exerted. She couldn't help but tense as Clint marched onto the field. This was the first time she could remember him looking this pissed off. "This fight is done." The archer snapped at them. He ran his gaze over Natasha and then over to Spencer, taking in every detail. When his eyes found the bruised area on Spencer's arm where the break was still healing, most other cuts and bruises long gone already, his eyes went darker. His gaze suddenly snapped back to Natasha and went dangerous in a way that made Spencer want to step back, and it wasn't even directed at her. "I wouldn't push your luck right now, Natasha." Clint said, his voice a growl.
Spencer looked at Natasha and watched her close her mouth on whatever she'd been about to say.
Clint waited a moment more. Then he reached out, pulling the arrow out of the ground from in front of Natasha. He grabbed the one from in front of Spencer next. When he looked at her, his gaze softened a little, some of that normal warmth showing through the anger. "Come on, kid. Let's go get you cleaned up."
The way he turned his back on Natasha, how he focused on Spencer, it should've made her feel a bit better. He wasn't ignoring her now. Instead, it only made Spencer's stomach twist in an all too familiar way-with guilt. She darted a look over at Natasha and then back to Clint. "She needs attention more than I do."
"Let's worry about you first." Clint said. The lines around his mouth were tight; a sign he was holding back words he didn't want to say here.
Chewing on her lip, Spencer snuck another look at Natasha. And she just… she couldn't. "Natasha." She waited until Natasha looked up at her, gaze shielded, before she continued. "I've got a medical kit in my room and what I'm told is a decent bedside manner. Come let me clean you up."
It wasn't phrased as a request, but Natasha didn't seem to mind. Their eyes connected and an understanding passed between them in that moment. The temper Spencer had felt towards this woman before had faded. She couldn't hold on to it. Not after Natasha had literally let Spencer beat on her just to make her feel better. She'd let herself be hurt just because she knew Spencer had been hurt lately. How on earth was the young genius supposed to stay mad at that?
They were a quiet trio as they made their way towards Spencer's room. People avoided them in the halls, stepping to the side or stopping altogether to watch them pass. Spencer could only imagine the sight they made. She and Natasha were both still covered in dirt and blood, and their clothes and hair were messed up still.
When they were finally inside Spencer's room, and the door was shut, Spencer let out a low sigh of relief. Finally. They were out of sight of everyone. It was better that whatever conversation happened next, happened here where they'd have some kind of privacy. She also wanted to at least be comfortable while they did it. With that in mind, she straightened up and grabbed hold of the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and off her head even as she crossed the room. "You're a bit shorter than I am and a bit more well-endowed, but I'm sure I have things that'll fit you if you'd like to put on something clean."
"That'd be great." Natasha called back to her.
Spencer nodded. She moved from the living area to her bedroom, leaving the door open behind her. She had absolutely no shame whatsoever in changing with anyone present. She knew it flustered Clint sometimes and she tried to remember it, at least when they weren't here. But in her own rooms? He could adjust or he could close his eyes. A body was just a body. She'd long ago stopped thinking she could do anything to prevent people from seeing it. "Clint, my medical kit is in my bathroom, up on the top shelf above the towels. Would you mind grabbing it for me while I change?"
She could hear Clint grumbling and just ignored it. While she was surprised to find just how little anger she felt towards Natasha after this, there was still a part of her that was angry at Clint-angry and hurt. It wasn't a feeling she liked. She didn't like being upset with him.
After taking a moment in the bathroom to clean up a little, Spencer changed into a pair of comfortable pajama pants and an oversized shirt that Clint had left here once and she'd never given back. Once she gathered up a pair of sweats and another shirt for Natasha, she headed out in bare feet to find that Natasha had sat down on her couch and Clint was sitting there as well, medical kit open beside him and gloves on his hands. Spencer smothered a smile. He was so predictable. "Here," Spencer said, dropping the clothes down by Natasha. "To put on when you're done."
The older woman looked up and nodded at her, the closest she'd get to a thank you. She looked calm despite the fact that it had to burn as Clint cleaned the scratches along her right bicep. Spencer rolled her own arm in sympathy. The break there was nothing more than the faintest of twinges now. Easily ignored as she dropped herself down into the comfortable chair that Clint usually claimed when he visited. It was sort of strange to sit there and look over to see not just Clint here. To see Natasha, a person she'd disliked so much just a few short hours ago. Yet now she was sitting here being bandaged up and watching both Spencer and Clint discreetly from under her lashes, a hint of something in her emotions that felt a bit like confusion and a bit like wonder.
Spencer recognized that combination of emotions. It was the same thing she still felt sometimes when she looked at her friend. It was the feeling someone got when someone wasn't used to being cared for; confused that it was happening and yet in a sort of awe over it. The fact that Natasha felt that only served to push Spencer's anger down lower. It'd taken Clint to show Spencer that feeling that way wasn't normal. That people shouldn't be so amazed by simple caring. She could recognize that now, at least a little, and it made her ache a bit for Natasha. It also explained some of her actions. Why she'd told Spencer she wasn't going to back down from her friendship with Clint. And she just… she couldn't hold on to it all anymore. Even if it meant that she lost more and more time with Clint, she couldn't be mad about them spending time together anymore. How could she? How could she be upset about him saving someone, just like he'd saved her?
Without realizing it, Spencer sank down into her chair a little more. Her knees came up and her heels rested on the seat. Arms around her waist, she curled in on herself, instinctively seeking to protect herself from what she was about to do and what she was sure was going to come. It was time to grow up and stop acting like a child. "I'm sorry I've created such trouble lately." She said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. At the surprised looks from both of them, she wanted to drop her gaze yet managed to keep it steady. No need to let them see how bothered she was. "I've no excuses for my behavior. I promise, however, it won't happen again."
The little furrow between Natasha's eyebrows told Spencer that she wasn't quite understanding what was going on here.
However, Clint had no such problems. He closed his eyes and let out a gusty sigh that had Spencer looking at him. "This is ridiculous." When he opened his eyes, he looked from one woman to the next and repeated his words. "This is ridiculous. We're the most emotionally stunted group of idiots to walk through here, and that's saying a lot. You," he lifted one finger and pointed it at Spencer. "Were an idiot for thinking that anyone or anything is going to make me forget about you. Just because I've got someone new in my life doesn't mean that I'm pushing you out of it. And, God, I feel like a parent introducing their kid to their new stepmom." He paused to groan at that and shake his head, much to Spencer and Natasha's amusement. Then his eyes opened again and he pointed at himself this time. "I'm an idiot for not realizing how much this was bothering you, an for apparently bailing on you often enough to make the whole thing worse. You," This time his finger pointed to Natasha, who raised her eyebrows and was smiling just the slightest bit, obviously wildly amused by Clint's ranting. "Were an idiot for thinking that fighting the kid with the healing factor was the smart way to solve this."
"It worked, didn't it?" Natasha pointed out.
Clint scowled at her. "That's completely beside the point. This whole thing would've been solved forever ago if any of us had sat down and, y'know, actually talked."
That was enough to wipe the smile of both women's faces. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for Spencer. It meant opening up-making herself vulnerable. That went against the grain entirely to her. Judging by the look on Natasha's face, she felt close to the same way. "I don't…" Natasha paused, obviously seeking out the words she wanted. "I don't… do these talks. Feelings." The last word was said not just with disgust, but with confusion, like the idea of feelings wasn't one she was familiar with.
Rolling his eyes, Clint gave her a lopsided grin. "Neither do I. Usually I manage to stick my foot in my mouth at least once. But when it matters, you still gotta try. Especially for family." That last part had him looking at Spencer. The emotion coming off him, the affection that was purely him, warmed up some of the places inside of Spencer.
As she looked at Natasha, who was clearly uncomfortable, Spencer decided to take pity on her. "You fight well." She watched Natasha's eyes snap up, saw her relax just the slightest bit as conversation shifted into something they were both more comfortable with. Lips quirking up into an almost-smile, Spencer continued. "Your mental shields are stronger than most anyone I've met. I didn't pick up a single stray thought from you while we were fighting."
If her words surprised Natasha, it didn't show. "Thank you."
"Your empathic shields suck."
It was kind of satisfying to watch the way Clint actually fumbled in putting away the supplies he'd been cleaning up. His groan of "Spencer!" was drowned out by Natasha's calm "I wasn't informed they needed to be different."
Well now, really, that was stupid. Thoughts were easy enough for anyone to shield. Any idiot could learn to shield some of their thoughts. Well, somewhat, at least. But emotions ran on an entirely different scale. "The best description I've ever been able to give is to think of it like radio stations. If our thoughts are AM, our emotions are FM. They broadcast on two entirely different frequencies." Spencer paused briefly and thought about what she was about to do. All it took was looking over at Clint, at the cautious look on his face, for her to straight up, sure of her decision. With a steadying breath, Spencer met Natasha's eyes and offered "I could teach you, if you'd like. Shielding won't cut off you feeling your emotions, but to any psionic anywhere nearby you'd be a ghost. Completely invisible."
The smallest smile curved Natasha's lips. She knew what Spencer was offering here. "Yes." Just that, just yes. No thank you. But Spencer understood that just as well as Natasha was understanding her. They weren't friends, not yet, but they weren't enemies anymore. They had a common ground between them. Someone they both cared for deeply. For him, they'd make the effort.