A/N: Dang, I'm getting emotional from writing this.
The post that inspired this chapter can be found here:
lettiebobettie . tumblr post/26103799452/you-know-clints-hands-may-look-hard-and-tired
Again, I own nothing except for most of the words here. Lettiebobettie is the original creator and I give her full credit. I don't own Black Widow or Hawkeye, either, which makes me very sad.
. . . . . . . . . .
You know, Clint's hands may look hard and tired, but I have only ever known them as soft and warm.
Clint can be a real dick sometimes, and I've threatened to end his life more than once. I've come close to it a couple of times, but I've never actually been able to do it. There's just something about him. I always wonder if I feel the same way when that happens as he did when he was told to kill me in Budapest. He's a great partner and he keeps the mood lively and he's always willing to put his life on the line for someone else. He's done that on countless occasions for me, the last time being way back when we were on one of our first missions in Saudi Arabia.
He always pokes fun at me because the first time I tried out his Bow, I missed the center target just by a centimeter. He never forgets to remind me that he had hit the target spot on the first time he had tried it. Asshole. Of course he would never dare say it to anyone, especially not Stark. He'd never let me live it down, and I'd never let either of them live.
You know, you have to admire his skill. Clint is to Bows and Arrows as I am to Guns. He's so steady and focused. His hands are rough and calloused and they get all bloodied up on almost every single damn mission. For a guy in his position, he sure takes crappy care of his hands. I've had to bandage them up more times than I can even remember. His muscles are almost as big as Thor's, and he's jealous that Thor's got bigger muscles. He hasn't told me, but I can tell.
For an assassin, he's actually a real teddy bear. People generally find him menacing, as they should. But not me.
We were sent on a mission in Antarctica one time. It sucked. Thankfully it wasn't snowing too hard, but just enough that we had to bundle up some more in our uniforms.
I was freezing. We were heading to a glacier that had a passageway that led underwater and into some secret laboratory. It wasn't very well hidden, but then again, no one would exactly be looking for a metal door on the top of a glacier. He was trying to find the exact place where Captain America had been frozen for seventy years. He was apparently looking for DNA samples so he could collect whatever was put into his body to make him a superhero. Too bad the man didn't know that S.H.I.E.L.D. had already cleared all that out of there.
"Tasha, are you cold?" he asked me.
"I'm fine, Clint."
"No you're not, you're shivering."
"Well if you hadn't noticed, we're in Antarctica on top of a glacier. It's not exactly warm up here." I said as I rolled my eyes.
"Oh stop being so stubborn. I know you're not going to accept it on your own, so take my scarf." He had started to take off his scarf as I tried to stop him.
"Clint, I don't need your scarf. If I needed a scarf then I would have used the one they gave me. Come on, we've got to find this place so we can get out of here." I started to walk faster.
He would have none of it, and he had already taken it off. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, "Come on, Tasha. For me?"
"No. I told you that I didn't need it, so stop your worrying and let's go."
"Tasha, I know you. You're cold. We're going underground into a freaking glacier and probably under the freezing cold ocean. It can only get colder." He tried to reason.
"You're right, it's only going to get colder and you're going to want it back the second we get in there." I countered.
"Stop being stubborn and just take it. The faster you take it, the faster we can get in and get out."
I groaned, "Fine."
He smirked and moved closer to me. He pulled my hood down and wrapped his scarf snugly around my neck. His fingers brushed against my neck and face as he secured it. It sent a chill down my spine each time his skin connected with mine, but I blamed it on the fact that I had nothing protecting my head from the cold. Once he was finished, he pulled my hood back over my head and ran three fingers down the side of my face.
"Warm enough now?" he asked softly.
"Much." I said, just above a whisper. I cleared my throat and composed myself again, "Come on Barton, we've got an idiot to take care of."
And he seems to like to fall asleep on his stomach.
"You have seventy-two hours to complete this mission, Agent Romanov. Good luck." Fury handed me a manila folder containing the detailed information for our next mission.
"Thank you, sir." I walked out of his office and back to my suite that I shared with Clint. We lived together at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters because it was a lot easier to commute to work when you lived there.
"Clint, Fury's got us another mission!" I called out as I entered our suite, "Come down and I'll tell you about it."
I walked over to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker as Clint trudged sleepily down the steps.
"Why is he giving us a mission? Doesn't he know that I'm sleeping?" he muttered.
"He does, and knowing him, that's exactly why he did it. Come on sleepy head, I'm making some coffee and that'll help you wake up."
He grumbled something and fell onto the couch. I let him stay there until the coffee was done. I poured some into his coffee mug and some into mine. I tossed the folder onto his back and set the mugs on the coffee table.
"Come on Barton, wake up. Time to learn." I told him and messed up his hair.
"But I already graduated from learning I don't need to do that anymore."
"Well suck it up and drink your coffee." He took the mug from me and took a sip. He kept his head resting on a pillow but his eyes had managed to focus on me.
"Ready?"
"I guess." He tucked his arm under the pillow and rested the other one on his head, making himself comfortable.
I took another sip of coffee and opened up the manila folder, "Alright. Our target is a scientist in China who goes by the name 'Doctor Carp' who has combined his DNA with animals and they've mutated. He's letting them run wild in Nanjing. People have gotten themselves infected with this disease the mutations are carrying by coming in contact with their blood. They're not easy to kill, so we're going to have to destroy whatever is controlling them, which is most likely Carp." I took a sip of my coffee, "Are you following me so far?"
Clint responded with a snore.
"Of course you fell asleep. How could you not fall asleep?" I rolled my eyes at him.
It's not easy for me to look at Clint's sleeping face and not smile. He looks so young when he does. I leaned my elbow on the couch and rested my head in my hand, just watching him as he slept peacefully.
At some point I had fallen asleep with my head laying on his back and my arm draped across him. That's my little way of telling him how I've always got his back, no matter what.
And he has this ridiculous habit of stopping for coffee everywhere we go.
"Clint, did you have to wake me up to go to a coffee shop? What's your deal?" I asked him as he dragged me into a cute little coffee shop.
"I wanted coffee." I glared at him, "Come on Nat, it's coffee. It's like the unseen force that keeps the world moving."
"You're insane, you know that?" I laughed as he looked at the menu.
"I'll get a large peppermint mocha coffee thingy, please. Extra whipped cream and could you put some chocolate shavings on it? Oh! And I want one of those." Clint pointed at a cookie covered in powder. He looked like a child who was just told that he could order whatever ice cream he wanted.
"Of course, sir. Could I get your name?" the barista asked politely.
"Oh, yeah. It's Winged One."
"Is that a code name or something?" the barista giggled.
"Something like that. Your turn, Nat."
"And for you, madam?"
"I'll also have a large peppermint mocha coffee thingy with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings," I looked at Clint and winked, "And could you drizzle some caramel on top? And I'll also have a cinnamon swirl coffee cake."
"Name?" the barista asked, less politely to me, probably because I'm not an attractive guy.
"Lady Bug."
Clint snorted. I whipped my head around and roundhouse kicked him in the ass, knocking him to the ground.
"Sorry, you had some bird shit on your ass. Had a little accident, Winged One?" I said slyly as I stepped over him.
"Bitch." He said under his breath.
"What was that?" I asked, though I heard him the first time.
"Nothing, dear."
"I thought so."
. . .
We sat on the roof of the café and watched the sun rise.
"Awh, look. The cup says 'Say good morning to the one you love' on it." He smirked as he put his cookie between his teeth, "Want a bite?" he offered, though it sounded more like "Wanna bye?"
"Sure, is it good?"
"I donno, less figure i'ou."
He leaned over, still holding the cookie between his teeth. I looked at it skeptically but figured, why not?
I leaned over and we took a bite of the cookie at the same time, kind of like the spaghetti scene in Lady and the Tramp.
The rest of the cookie fell out of our mouths and into Clint's hand.
"It's tasty!" he said licking his lips.
"I never eat cookies, but it is really tasty. The rest of it might be gone if you don't look after it." I smirked.
"I'd know who ate it if it leaves that much evidence on your mouth."
"What?"
"You've got powder on your lips."
"Oh." I lifted my hand up to wipe it away, but Clint's hand got there first.
Without saying a word, he wiped it away with his thumb. He tasted like sugar.
"Um, thanks." I said awkwardly, turning my attention to the sun that was just peeking over the mountains in the distance.
We sat in silence for a while.
"Good morning, Tasha." He said warmly.
"Good morning." I smiled.
And anytime we need an alias, he likes using names from old Hitchcock films.
We were sitting at a train stop in New York, waiting for the train that would take us to Maine. Clint was dressed like an old fashioned detective with the dark brown coat and matching fedora. He sported a red tie that matched my hair color perfectly.
"Hey, we need to think of new names." Clint said randomly.
"You're right, I forgot about that. Did you have any in mind?"
"Hmmm…" The look on his face told me that he was going through a list in his head. Knowing him, it was his list of characters from the Hitchcock films, "I've got it! We'll be Richard Ashenden and Elsa Carrington. They're characters from Alfr-"
"Alfred Hitchcock's films, I figured. Any particular reason you chose these names?"
"I was going to tell you but you oh so rudely interrupted me, but I'll forgive you just this once. They're characters from a film called Secret Agent. I figured that they were appropriate, considering who we are. And why we're here."
"You've got a clever mind, ya know, Clint?"
"So I've been told." He said smugly.
"I hear the train coming. Let's get ready for this, Elsa." I joked.
"Elsa?"
"Yeah, Elsa. You don't expect me to go by the name Elsa, do you?"
He turned on his Southern charm, "Well we can't have a pretty lady walkin' around with a name such as Richard, now can we?"
"But sir, it's what mah dear old momma named me!" I said, turning on my innocent Southern Belle character.
"Ah'm sorry little lady, but I'm gonna haf'ta ask you to go by Elsa, or I might just haf'ta do somethin' to convince you otherwise." His voice turned uncharacteristically seductive as he closed the space between us, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"Oh, well all right, ah'll change my name. But just this once, my good sir." I said playfully as I tipped the front of his hat down, blocking his lips from meeting mine.
And sometimes he doesn't want to talk, but it almost feels like we can have a whole conversation in silence.
I've never seen Clint cry before. He was a strong guy and knew that crying was a form of weakness. He was silent throughout the entire debrief when we got back from a mission. I had to literally lead him by the hand to our suite because he wouldn't budge. As soon as we set foot in the suite, he walked into the living room, switched on the fireplace and sat in front of it, hugging his knees to his chest.
I knew he needed some time to think, but he didn't want to be left alone. I pulled of my boots and tossed them at the bottom of the stairs. I padded over to him, my bare feet making little to no noise at all. I sat down next to him by the warm fire.
On our mission, we had to deal with the man who turned Clint Barton into Hawkeye, Jacques Duquesne, or as Clint knew him, "Swordsman."
Clint's parents had died when he was a child, just like mine had. When he was six, he and his brother Barney ran away from the orphanage to join The Carson Carnival of Travelling Wonders. The Swordsman had caught Clint's eye and took him as an assistant. Clint later found out that the Swordsman was embezzling money from the carnival, and before he could turn him over to the authorities, Clint was beaten and left for dead and the Swordsman skipped town. He hadn't heard from his brother since that day.
We sat in silence for a long time, staring at the flames. I don't think he blinked even once. Eventually, Clint got too hot and took off his black shirt and threw it behind him. This told me that he was getting over the initial shock of seeing his very first enemy since his childhood.
I began to rub his back, just between his shoulder blades. My spot is on my neck, his is just there.
He sighed and shifted a bit which was his way of telling me that he was ready to accept comfort. I made small circles on his back with my fingertips, which caused him to get goosebumps on his back.
He finally lifted his head and turned it toward me, resting it on his crossed arms. He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. When he opened his eyes, his eyes were watery and full of emotions. Rage, fear, regret, sadness. A single tear fell from his eyes and rolled down his cheek. Using the hand that wasn't making designs on his back, I wiped the tear away. I scooted closer to him and hugged him. He rested his head on my shoulder and eventually drifted off to sleep, safely wrapped in my arms.
But he can always make me smile, even when I don't want to, and I always find myself doing the same for him.
"I don't know why I ever agreed to do this."
"Natasha, you're going to be fine. If you can go on countless life threatening missions and put yourself in danger more often than Tiger Woods can find another woman to sleep with, you can wear a bathing suit in public." Pepper told me.
"It's going to come off in the water."
"No it's not and you know it."
"I'm exposing too much of my body."
"Are you serious, woman? It's a damn Marilyn Monroe bathing suit. The guys will be showing more skin than you will. Besides, we're on one of Tony's islands. No one except for the Avengers and me are going to see you."
"No one is going to take pictures of me, alright?"
"I'll make sure they don't. I'll take away Tony and Bruce's science toys if they do."
I turned to my only female friend with a hopeful expression, "You will?"
"I promise."
"Alright." I said reluctantly.
Pepper took my hand and led me out of the high-tech beach house.
"Hey, there they are! What took you so long, girls? Couldn't figure out how much skin to expose?" Tony said as he walked up to us.
"Tony! How can you be so disrespectful to these women?" Steve said as he came up behind Tony, obviously avoiding looking at Pepper and me in our bathing suits.
"He's an ass, that's why, Steve." Pepper said to Steve, glaring at Tony. She led me over to where the rest of the Avengers were gathered.
"Ah, Deadly One! Strawberry Hair! This is a lovely birch, is it not?" Thor boomed as he spotted us. He called me Deadly One because, well, I'm me. He calls Pepper Strawberry Head because of her strawberry blonde hair. When we had first tried to describe the color to Thor, he had been so confused that he ended up going back to Asgard to research it in one of their many extensive libraries.
"I think you mean beach, Thor, not birch. Birch is a kind of tree." I laughed as I corrected him.
"Ah yes, how very foolish of me. Come, enjoy this lovely food! But I must warn you not to eat the PopTarts, for those are the property of me." He warned.
"You don't have to worry about that, Thor. Tasha here doesn't eat sweets." Clint piped up.
Pepper let go of my hand and grabbed a towel. She spread it out on the sand and laid down on it, "If anyone tries to bother me, I'm going to personally make sure Natasha cuts your balls off."
Thor winced, "Why in Asgard would you have such a cruel punishment used on one of your loved ones?"
"Because I need to tan and if you keep talking to me, you're going to be the first one to experience it." That immediately shut him up.
I sat down in the sand next to Clint, "Hey, you."
"Hey," He smiled, "You look good in that bathing suit of yours. You should totally change your Black Widow uniform to a bathing suit. You could seduce the targets to death." He winked.
"Shut up or else I'll kill you that way." I glared at him.
"Ah, but what a way to die!"
"You're so full of shit."
"Seriously, you do look really good in it."
"I don't feel like I do."
"What? Why?" he said, obviously taken aback.
"I don't wear things like this. It makes me feel too much like a girl."
"Oh, come on, Nat. Everyone here knows that you're the exact opposite of a girl."
"I know that, but I just need to get used to it."
"Well get used to it fast, cause there are some totally rad and gnarly waves that are calling my name and I want to surf them."
"Totally rad and gnarly? You've been spending way too much time with Captain Virgin over there."
"What can I say? The guy's got class, not 'swagger' like Tony keeps claiming to have."
I laughed, finally feeling somewhat better, "If you get me a board, I'll surf with you."
"Righteous! Let's do this!" Clint stood up and held out a hand, which I accepted.
. . .
"Clint they don't suck, alright? You just gotta scrape off the burnt parts." I tried to get Clint to come to terms with the fact that burnt meat could taste good somehow.
"Nat, the entire thing is burnt! If I scrape it off, there'll be nothing left!"
God, he's so damn frustrating, "Clint, come with me. We're going to take a walk."
"No we're not, we're going to stay here so I can argue about the burnt meat."
"Uh, no, we're not. We're going to calm you down." I told him as I took his hand in mine and led him away from the smoking grill that Tony was in the process of de-smoking.
I walked quickly and didn't slow down until we were out of sight of everyone. By then, I wasn't holding a death grip on Clint's hand, but it was a gentle, friendly hold. We walked in silence right where the waves were washing up on shore.
Clint bent down and picked up an oyster shell, "Hey Tasha, I found an oyster."
"Really? I thought it was just a shell."
"So did I, but then I picked it up and discovered that it's whole. Should we open it up? Maybe it has a pearl."
I shrugged, "Sure." I sat down and pulled him down next to me. I watched as he struggled to open it. I didn't offer to help; he had already had his pride damaged enough with burning the food.
"I can do this, it's just really tight."
"I know you can, Clint. It's an oyster. It's not exactly the easiest thing to open."
After a few minutes, he managed to pry it open, "Ready? Let's see what this bro has inside."
We poked around for a few seconds before Clint felt something small and hard in the middle under a lump of oyster meat. He dug his finger inside of it and pulled out a tiny pearl.
"Wow, Clint. You actually found one!" I smiled at him, and he beamed right back at me.
"I'm going to make this into something for you, alright? And you have to promise that you'll wear it at least once." He put the pearl in the palm of my hand.
"I promise," I told him as I looked at the tiny pearl that Clint had obtained just for me.
Most of all, he likes me to hold him when he is in pain.
I never knew that forests could be so terrifying. I've ventured through plenty, one of them even resembling the Forbidden Forest from Harry Potter, which wasn't frightening in the slightest. But this forest is one that I don't plan to go even remotely close to ever again.
We were trying to find a child prostitute trafficker's shack, wherever the hell it was. We never figured it out though, because a bomb went off when we were in there looking around. It was a powerful explosion that knocked both Clint and me out. I fought against the darkness though, and I came to an estimated ten minutes later. The forest around me was in flames and Clint was nowhere to be found.
"Clint!" I shouted, "Clint!" No response, "Clint Barton you had better not be dead I swear to God-" it was then that I smelled the all too familiar scent of burning flesh, "Oh, no. No no no. Please don't let it be… Clint! Clint, where are you!" I raced around the area, following the scent of the burning flesh in a delusional state. The smoke was blocking my vision and I could barely see where I was going. Suddenly I tripped over something, "Dammit, stupid trees—Oh God, Clint!" I had tripped over Clint's body. I immediately crouched down next to him to check the damage. Dammit! He had a huge gash on his abdomen and it was bleeding profusely.
"This is Agent Romanoff, codename Black Widow, do you read?" I shouted into my comm link, "Agent Barton, codename Hawkeye has been hurt. Requesting immediate extraction. Coordinates unknown. Do you copy?" I nearly shrieked into my comm link. I didn't hear a response. "Shit shit shit shit shit I will shoot those asshats in the face if you die. Don't you dare die on me or else I will bring you back to life and kill you myself." I told Clint's limp body as I gripped his hand for dear life.
"Ta…"
"Clint? Oh Clint, thank God you're alive." I pulled his head onto my lap.
"Tash… hol… me…"
I didn't need him to repeat what he had said. I was already pulling him up more so he was resting in my arms. He didn't let go of my hand.
"Whas the… damage…"
"You've got a huge gash on your abdomen. It's bleeding pretty badly and you've got lots of burns."
His eyes filled with fear, "Tash… if this is the… end… for me… would you do me… a favor…"
"Of course, anything. I'll do anything for you."
"Kiss… me…"
Immediately, I dipped my head and my rough and bloodied lips met his. There was so much passion in that instant that I felt like I could kiss my life into him to let him live. His hand found its way into my hair and tugged at it. It ended all too soon as he fell back into unconsciousness.
"Clint? Clint, don't leave me. Don't you dare leave me!" I screamed, trying to kiss him back to life.
A tree came crashing down next to us, sending burning embers everywhere.
"We've got to get out of here." I tucked my arms under his shoulders and pulled and didn't stop.
I don't know how far or how long I had tugged and pulled and almost gave up hope, but eventually I got us to safety at the very edge of the forest.
I laid Clint gently on the ground and I fell to my hands and knees and vomited. When I was done, I turned to Clint and grabbed his hand. His face was the last thing I saw before I let the dark nothingness take over my body.
But no matter how much pain he is in, he will always do what he can to take away mine.
I sat next to his bed in the hospital listening to the beeping of his heart on the heart monitor. Each time I heard it, I was afraid that I wouldn't hear it again. But I did. I hadn't let go of his hand since I had woken up from my own state of unconsciousness and had actually gotten out of my own hospital bed and crawled into his. That was a week ago. I had scared off the hospital staff when they tried to get me to eat something, so they had to call in Fury. He couldn't do anything, and Agent Hill wasn't going to go near me, so the sent Agent Phil Coulson.
It's impossible for me not to listen to him, so he got me to eat that day and had me promise that I would eat whenever the hospital staff brought me food. He didn't get me to leave Clint's bed, so he had us transferred to a new room with a larger bed that I could share with him more comfortably. Coulson didn't leave us until the next day so he could make sure that I was going to be alright. When I was told that I could leave the hospital, I had Coulson get me a new change of clothes from the suite back at Headquarters. I had changed right there in the room, not bothered because Clint had seen me naked before and since we were the only two in the room, I didn't care.
There was no way in hell that I was going to leave his side, and it caused a pretty big scene. I had won, though. I've got S.H.I.E.L.D. and the famous Tony Stark on my side.
I was fiddling with the ring Clint had given me that had the pearl we found placed on it. The ring was a silver band with three diamonds lined up from largest to smallest on either side of the pearl. I took a closer look at the inside of the band and saw something engraved inside of it. Narrowing my eyes, I saw that it read the simple words 'Good morning, Tasha.'
Tears filled my eyes as I realized that in those words, he was telling me that he loved me. I looked at his closed eyes and was hit with a whole new wave of emotions. The tears that had found their way into my eyes spilled over. For the first time in a long time, I cried.
I cried for Clint, I cried for my parents, I cried for his brother, I cried for all the times he had saved me, I cried for the fact that he didn't kill me in Budapest, I cried for all the times I had nearly lost him, but most of all, I cried for myself. I didn't know what I would do if he died. I would probably take a suicide mission at S.H.I.E.L.D. If I came back from that mission alive, I would take another and another until I finally ceased to exist.
Over the sound of my own sobbing, I nearly missed Clint's voice say my name.
"Nat…"
My head immediately shot up.
"Clint?" I asked wearily.
"Tasha… Where are you?"
I crawled onto his bed from my seat next to it and put a hand on his cheek, "I'm right here, Clint. I never left."
His hand found mine and he held it, pressing it against his lips. He opened his blue eyes and looked into my green ones. Putting aside the fact that he had just regained his consciousness after a week, he slowly sat up and wrapped his arms around me.
"I'm so sorry, Tasha. How can I ever make it up to you?" he asked sincerely.
"Just hold me close and never leave me."
And so he did.