Holy crap this story is getting long…
I changed this chapter several times, and I think I'm finally happy with it. Hope you all enjoy it because that's what really matters. :)
He managed to steal some pens from various nursing staff and had made a game of launching them across the room and embedding them in the wall to make a smiley face. Needless to say the staff was not happy with him and had started to mind their writing utensils more.
Now, he contemplated his flimsy plastic fork that came with his unappetizing dinner. On a whim he launched it at the wall. It hit the wall in the correct place, but bounced uselessly off and clattered to the floor.
He huffed and flopped back on his bed, grunting in discomfort as it jostled his wounds. He'd been in the Military Hospital in Germany for over a week. Coulson was too busy dealing with the aftermath of the attack on the base in Budapest to be around much. So it was usually just him and the nursing staff and so boring. He just wanted to pound his head against a wall.
He had not, in fact, missed Christmas, but he did end up spending it in the hospital. Needless to say, he was not happy about it. Natasha was probably at some fancy party eating caviar and drinking expensive champagne while every male in the room fell over themselves to try and please her. Not to mention the added excitement of being on an op.
She'd never admit it, but Clint was pretty sure she genuinely enjoyed the thrill of the chase. She didn't really like being the honey trap all the time, with sleazy men drooling all over her, but she enjoyed running a con.
He'd seen her pose as a shrewd arms dealer once. It took her less than a week to convince a South American drug lord that his closest friends were trying to kill him and she was his only friend. She had a knack for winding people up and stepping back and watching them destroy their own lives.
When she was in the middle of a fight, she'd get this devious little smile on her face. She liked to let her opponent think they had the upper hand, and then neatly turn the tables on them, smiling smugly while they tried to figure out what the hell just happened.
In the last year, he'd become an expert in the rare phenomena of Natasha's different smiles. Not the kind she put on for a mission, but the genuine article, the actual proof that Red Room had not been successful in completely striping her of all feeling. They were usually brief, and near undetectable; a small tug at the corner of her mouth. If you didn't know what you were looking for, you'd easily miss it.
After a mission if they had time and weren't in any danger, they'd go out to eat before they had to be at the extraction point. Sometimes it was dinner, sometimes brunch, most often it was a late night snack from where ever they could find that was still open. She had this small, joyful smile when she was munching on something she truly enjoyed. She eats slowly, savoring every last bit.
His favorite he discovered by complete accident. He introduced to coffee once, he couldn't believe she had never had it before. He had her hooked imeadiately. She wouldn't drink the crap he made though; it had to be a latte or a cappuccino from a cafe. She was terribly picky, a bit if a snob really.
When it was right though, she's sit there by a window, sipping it and staring off into space; he often wondered if she realized she allowed herself smile while enjoying her perfect cup of coffee. Not the small half hidden smile that you have to be looking for to find, but a full one glowing smile of pure delight. It was really quite charming and endearing. Who knew a Russian assassin could be genuinely charming and endearing? The first time he saw it, he couldn't help staring.
But he definitely was not sitting in his lumpy hospital bed flipping through cable channels and daydreaming of a pretty red head with a sweet smile. Hell no. She left him. She chose to occupy herself with some exciting espionage, leaving him bored out of his mind and forced to eat disgusting yellow jello and questionable meatloaf alone on Christmas!
He hoped she had to trudge through a mile of thick black mud to get to her extraction. It'd serve her right!
Stupid Natasha, going on a mission without him. She was probably having her favorite cup of coffee right now. Clutching the mug in both hands and inhaling the pleasant aroma; then smiling out the window wistfully while she leisurely drank it. Without him.
He stared up at the ceiling and fumed. What a lousy way to spend Christmas.
She found him like that. Arms crossed as he stared grumpily white tiles. He looked like a little boy about to throw a temper tantrum.
"Pouting are we?"
He jumped at her voice, and sat up quickly to gape at her disbelievingly. His shock turned into a bright smile that made her stomach leap. Had anyone ever been that happy to see her? His smile then scrunched up into a scowled and he threw himself back on his bed and rolled over, presenting his back to her.
Clint Barton: actual nine year old. She resisted the urge to laugh at him, and made her way around the bed to sit in the chair there. He scowled at her again and rolled over again so he could ignore her. no doubt trying to bait her. He just liked the attention; wanted her to beg and plead for him to talk to her. Well, She wasn't going to play that game, so she directed her attention out the window.
As soon as she got back and reported to Coulson, he'd ordered her to the hospital to visit the stir crazy archer, muttering something about "sharing in his pain."
He huffed dramatically, but she continued to ignore him. He huffed again, louder this time. Receiving no reaction he rolled over to face her and stared intently at her. She kept her gaze fixed on the tree just outside the window, casually resting her chin on her palm.
"Well?" he said expectantly.
"Well what?"
"Aren't you going to apologize?"
"Apologize? For what?" she finally looked at him, and found him staring her down like a miscreant child.
"For leaving me here in this prison! I've been going out of my mind with boredom! And it's all your fault."
She rolled her eyes at him. Yep. There it was. She never would have allowed herself to do that once upon a time. She would have seen the reaction coming a mile away and suppressed it without a thought. What was it about him that made her lose control like that? She didn't like it.
She clenched her jaw, and schooled her face into a mask of indifference. He seemed to pick up on the shift in her mood immediately and an awkward silence stretched out between them.
"What's wrong?" he asked suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"What is wrong?" he repeats himself slowly, pointedly. He frowns at her, searching her eyes intently. "Something is off, what is it?"
"You're imagining things." She rolls her eyes again and directs her gaze back out the window because it's safer to focus on the tree outside than to meet his intense gaze.
"How'd your mission go?"
"It went fine. Easy in. Easy out. Nothing special."
"Where'd you go? What'd you have to do?"
"I was in London touching base with one of Fury's contact in some large crime family. What's with the interrogation?" She finally breaks and looks at him, intending to pin him with an annoyed glare. Her annoyance fizzles out, however, as she takes him in. The concern in his grey eyes is almost tangible. She swallows, uncomfortable and uncertain.
"I just…I thought after what happened in Budapest you'd want some R&R. but instead you request a mission. I woke up and you were just gone." He sounds almost hurt, like she'd violated his trust in some way.
Trust. Why would he trust her at all? He really shouldn't. She's just not trustworthy material. Doesn't he know that?
She steals herself, "It's my job." She manages to say it nonchalantly.
"Bullshit." He's frowning again and she feeling like he's staring directly into her soul.
"Tell me what's wrong." He pleads desperate for her to let him back in, but he can practically see her shut down.
She schools her features and gives him a sardonic smile, like someone who is humoring a small child.
"You should rest, I'll go." She stands up briskly and makes for the door.
"Natasha." She ignores him. "Tasha!" his voice is pleading, but she doesn't even pause.
Like hell he's going to let her just walk away.
Without thinking, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stands, leaning heavily on the bed. Taking a steadying breath, he pushes away, intent on following her and dragging her back, but his legs give out beneath him.
He didn't hit the floor though, because she was there in an instant to catch him. Carefully lifting him back into bed.
"You're an Idiot." She chided softly.
"It's part of my charm." He replied, unexpectedly breathless from the short exertion.
She laughed quietly, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she looked away and avoided his gaze once again.
"Get some rest." Her hand found his to give it a gentle squeeze and she leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his forehead. It surprised him; she'd never done anything like that before. She froze as she realized what she'd done, surprised as well. He could see her withdrawing again pulling back. She pulled back sharply and turned to leave again.
He caught her wrist, preventing her escape.
"Tasha." He entreated.
"What?" she sighed, looking back at him with tired eyes.
"Stay? Please? At least for a little while. I promise I'll try not to be annoying."
Her lips quirked up minutely and he could tell she was biting her cheek to keep from smiling more. Where's a good cappuccino when you need one? He doubted the hospital coffee cart would be up to her snobbish standards.
Finally, she heaved a sigh of defeat and plopped down next to him on the bed. At his urging, she sat back against the pillows and swung her legs up on to the bed. He smiled triumphantly. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently. He held it against his heart as they sat in silence, tracing circles on the back of her hand.
He had for a few moments at least. He figured he better not push her at the moment. Whatever she was going through, it wouldn't do any good to try and force it out of her. He found she was like quick sand, the more you fight, the harder it is to get anything out of her. Better to move slowly and coax it out of her gently.
"Tasha." He whispered, breaking the silence.
"hmm?"
"You're my best friend. You know that right?"
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't answer. They didn't speak, but it didn't bother him, neither of them were big on talking when they didn't have to. He was content to just lay there next to her in companionable silence.
He didn't know how long they sat there together but at some point he leaned against her shoulder and fell asleep. When he woke, she was gone once again.
Kay, hope you guys liked this chapter, I know the last one was quite an abrupt change. I kind of planned of like that, because I feel Natasha would shut down abruptly and pull away in an attempt to protect herself.
No threats this time.
I'm not sure when I'll have time to write the next chapter, this next week is going to be crazy. But after that is spring break, so I will definitely have time then.
Please let me know what you thought. Love it, hate it (hopefully you don't) I love to hear from you guys!