The drive home from Hereford to his apartment in London felt melancholic. Natasha's memory haunted him, her presence lingering like a shadow in every corner of his mind. Their time together had been short, but he had savoured every second of it. His heart ached for her company, and each day he found himself wishing for her return.
In the days following her departure, he often found himself seeing her everywhere. Once, he thought he spotted her fiery red hair in a crowd at Piccadilly Circus, only to realize it was a stranger with a similar hairstyle. Another time, he swore he heard her laugh while walking through Hyde Park, but when he turned around, it was just a group of friends sharing a joke. Each time his heart leaped with hope, only to sink with disappointment.
Coming home now, he couldn't escape the loneliness that seemed to cling to every piece of furniture, every silent room. When he would glance at the kitchen table, he would imagine her sitting there, sipping tea and reading a book. The sofa felt emptier without her curled up next to him, laughing at some silly TV show. He missed the way her presence filled the apartment with warmth and light.
What had once felt like home now seemed like a cold, distant cabin. Harry closed the door behind him, carelessly chucking his bag to the side. He sank into the sofa, closing his eyes in an attempt to distract his mind from wandering back to thoughts of Natasha and their brief time together.
He was a grown man, familiar with the pain of loss. Yet, her sudden departure, without so much as a goodbye, cut deeper than he expected. He could have handled her leaving, but the abruptness of it all was what really hurt. It was as if a hurricane had blown through his heart, taken him for a wild ride, and left everything in disarray.
Despite this, Harry wasn't wallowing in despair. He was simply adjusting to the quiet, the emptiness, the echo of her laughter that seemed to haunt the walls. He missed her, but he hadn't given up hope. He couldn't shake the feeling that she would return, and until then, he would hold onto the memories and the belief that their paths would cross again.
His nose picked up the fragrant smell of the perfume Natasha loved to wear, a scent that reminded him of warm summer breezes. Even his sense of smell was betraying him now, weaving illusions from his memories.
"Babe," he heard Natasha's voice, soft and gentle, just as it had been when she whispered sweet nothings during their intimate moments. It seemed his mind was playing tricks on him today, refusing to let him forget her. "I have gotten this new opportunity," the teasing voice continued, sounding so real. "I got a new job, and it's based in the United States of America." There was a hint of nervousness in her voice. "And I was wondering if you would like to come with me. Maybe we could start a new life together."
He hated his mind for torturing him like this, conjuring up the words he so desperately wanted to hear. Why was it so agonizing? "Natasha," he said with a sigh, "if it means being with you, then I am willing to follow you to the ends of the universe."
He squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to dispel the illusion, but the longing in his heart made it hard to distinguish between reality and the tricks his mind was playing on him. The words felt so real, yet so painfully out of reach. His heart ached with the hope that one day, he might actually hear those words from her lips, and not just in the cruel fantasies his mind conjured.
"Ah babe, you always say the sweetest things," the teasing voice replied. Strangely, Harry also felt the ghost of a peck on his cheek.
"Wait, what?" Harry jerked up from his seat, eyes snapping open as he took in his apartment. There, standing behind the sofa, was a smiling vixen dressed in a white sundress—the very one that had haunted his dreams for months. Not trusting himself or his senses, Harry slowly approached the amused figure. His hands trembled as he reached out to touch her, half-expecting his hand to pass through an illusion or for her to vanish before his eyes.
But his hand didn't pass through her. She didn't disappear. Instead, his fingers made contact with warm, soft skin. He cupped her cheeks, feeling the reality of her presence. Her eyes, filled with love and care, stared into his.
"Surprise," she whispered, her voice genuinely happy.
Harry had thought that his first reaction would be anger when he saw her. He could feel it in his chest, the rage building. He wanted to lash out. Shout, scream and push her away so that he wouldn't feel the loss again. Yet, the feeling that he felt was strangely denial. With his mind playing tricks with him ever since her departure, he wasn't sure if he could believe it.
Seeing his confusion, Natasha stepped forward and kissed him. It was her method to convey how much she wanted this, how deeply she cared about Harry and also to apologise for the pain that he had put him through. It was because of him that she found to courage to get out, to step away and it was with him that she wanted to traverse the future together. She tried to convey everything that she felt for and because of him through her kiss.
Harry's mind spun. This couldn't be real, could it? His heart raced with disbelief, denial quickly giving way to sheer joy. He didn't understand what had happened, but at that moment, it didn't matter. The excruciating pain of waiting for her, the months of longing and uncertainty, had finally paid off. His heart leapt with joy, euphoric like an orchestra reaching its climax.
His girl was home.
He had pulled her in with a jerk, wrapping his arms around her like a possessive python, unwilling to let go of his prey. Natasha couldn't help but smile, amused by his antics. It was one of the things she loved about him—how he always managed to surprise her, reacting in ways she never expected. He was as much an enigma to her as she was to him, a constant source of fascination and joy.
He pulled her into a tighter embrace, feeling her warmth and solidity towards him. Tears of relief and happiness welled up in his eyes as he whispered, "You're really here. I can't believe you're here.
Feeling his strong embrace, she sensed a hint of suffocation but didn't mind. She let him hold her as tightly as he needed, understanding that he had been through an emotional whirlwind. She knew he needed this, needed the reassurance that she was truly there, real and tangible. She had stayed apart from him for too long, and this moment of reunion was as much a balm for her soul as it was for his.
Natasha hugged him back just as tightly, her own eyes glistening. "I'm here, Harry. I'm really here."
In that moment, the loneliness that had plagued him dissolved. The cold, distant cabin his apartment had become was once again a home, filled with love and warmth. All the heartache and uncertainty seemed to melt away as they stood there, holding each other, grateful for the reunion they had both longed for.
Natasha inhaled deeply; the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faintest hint of sweat from his long drive home. It grounded her, making her realize how much she had missed him. This wasn't just about being back with Harry; it was about coming home. For the first time in her life, she had found a place where she truly belonged, and that place was with him.
Her eyes softened as she held onto him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her chest. It was a rhythm she had grown to cherish, a constant reminder of the life and love they shared. Despite all the dangers and uncertainties of her world, this moment, this connection was her sanctuary.
"Harry," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of tenderness and relief. "I've missed you so much."
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, his own filled with tears. "I've missed you too, Natasha. More than you can imagine."
She smiled, reaching up to brush away a tear that had escaped down his cheek. "I can imagine. Because I've felt the same way every single day, we've been apart."
In that instant, Natasha felt a profound sense of belonging. Harry was her home, the one place where she felt truly safe and loved. The hardships and dangers of her life seemed distant and insignificant compared to the warmth of his embrace. She had made her choice, and it was clear: this was where she wanted to be. With Harry, she was finally home.
Their reunion, however, was disturbed by the doorbell ringing. With a huff, Harry reluctantly pulled away from Natasha and walked to the door. He yanked it open, only to find an athletic man with short brown hair and blue eyes standing there, dressed casually in jeans and a black T-shirt.
"How may I help you?" Harry asked, irritation seeping into his voice at the interruption.
The man looked momentarily puzzled, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the door number. "Umm, I think I got the wrong door," he said, clearly confused by Harry's presence.
With a huff, Harry slammed the door on the perplexed intruder and went back to check on the red-haired, elusive vixen waiting for him.
"You are back?" Harry asked, a bit of uncertainty in his voice as he returned to Natasha.
"I'm back," she replied with certainty, her eyes locking onto his.
"And did you quit?" The nervousness was palpable in his question.
"Yes," she replied, her voice unwavering. "I quit my job."
"And what about us?" he ventured cautiously.
"What about us?" she echoed, tilting her head slightly. Harry was about to ask where they stood as a couple, but the doorbell rang again. Why was the bell so busy today, of all days? With an exasperated sigh, Harry turned on his heel and went to answer the door once more.
Harry's irritation flared as the doorbell rang once more. He yanked it open to reveal the same athletic man with short brown hair and blue eyes standing there, looking slightly more determined this time.
"Hi," the guy started, his voice casual. "I'm looking for a girl—red hair, tall, blue eyes, wearing a white sundress. Have you seen her by any chance?"
Harry's patience was wearing thin. "Yeah, why?" he snapped, a bit of steel in his voice.
"Oh, thank God, I thought I got the wrong apartment again," the guy let out a sigh of relief and, to Harry's utter astonishment, barged right inside. "Hey, Nat, I got some takeout. I hope you like Indian food. I got some chicken kebabs, vegetable curry, and naan."
Midway through the intruder's mumbling, Harry grabbed him by the arm, jerking him to a stop. "Excuse me, but who are you and what right do you have to barge into my apartment?"
The intruder gave Harry a puzzled look, which quickly morphed into a knowing smile. "Nice, I really like your acting. Don't worry, dude, it's fine. You can drop the act now; we're all professionals in the same business here."
Now it was Harry's turn to look puzzled, his anger simmering just below the surface.
"Ah, where are my manners?" the intruder said, offering his hand for a handshake. "My name is Clint Barton, and I'm Natasha's new partner."
Harry's eyes narrowed as he stared at Clint's extended hand, his mind racing. Partner? What did he mean by that? And why was this guy acting so familiar in his home?
"Natasha's new partner," Harry repeated, his voice tight with disbelief. His eyes twitched slightly, a storm brewing beneath the surface as he fought to keep his composure. He reluctantly took Clint's offered hand and squeezed it with a firmness that bordered on aggression.
"Yeah, Natasha's new partner. Didn't she tell you?" Clint asked innocently, though he winced slightly as Harry's grip tightened.
"No, she failed to mention it," Harry replied curtly, his jaw clenched. He applied more pressure to Clint's hand, his jealousy palpable.
Clint attempted to lighten the mood. "You have a strong grip there," he remarked, trying to ease the tension. It was clear he sensed Harry's displeasure but couldn't quite understand why.
Natasha, enjoying the playful jealousy she had sparked in Harry, decided to add fuel to the fire. "Babe, I forgot to tell you, when I was in Budapest, I met a guy," she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Babe?" Clint questioned, his brow furrowing in confusion as he looked between Natasha and Harry.
"Met a guy," Harry gritted through clenched teeth, his grip on Clint's hand tightening further.
Clint, realizing the misunderstanding he had caused, quickly withdrew his hand, his face flushed with embarrassment. "It's not what you think!" he blurted out, his words rushed. "Natasha and I aren't together. Natasha, please help me to clear this up."
Natasha couldn't contain her laughter at Clint's flustered state. She strolled over to Harry's side and affectionately pecked his cheek. "I do love it when you get jealous," she whispered mischievously into Harry's ear, enjoying the faint grunt of annoyance that escaped him.
Harry, trying not to be amused, crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow at Natasha. "Sure, seems like it," he muttered under his breath, though a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Natasha composed herself and turned to formally introduce the two men. "Harry, meet Agent Clint Barton from SHIELD. He's the one who helped me transition out of my old job," she explained, her tone tinged with amusement. "And this is Captain Harry James Potter, 22nd SAS regiment, also my boyfriend"
Clint, now recovered from his initial panic, extended his uninjured hand to Harry with a sheepish grin. "Pleasure to meet you"
Harry eyed Clint warily but accepted the handshake, albeit with less force this time. "Likewise," he replied cautiously, acknowledging Clint's attempt at rectifying the situation.
Clint winced slightly as Harry's grip was still firm, but he managed to maintain his composure. "Ouch, tough grip you got there, Captain," Clint remarked, rubbing his hand once Harry finally released it.
Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at the exchange between the two men. "Boys, boys," she interjected with a playful grin. "Can't we all just get along?"
Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Yeah, I suppose so," he conceded.
Clint laughed in relief, glad that the tension had eased. "Well, now that we're properly introduced, can we eat? I'm starving," he declared, eager to move past the awkwardness.
Natasha clapped her hands together in agreement. "Absolutely! Let's dig in," she announced cheerfully, gesturing toward the spread of Indian food Clint had brought.
Natasha, thoroughly entertained by her little prank, couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Harry, you're too easy," she teased affectionately, giving him a playful nudge.
Harry rolled his eyes playfully, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, secretly glad that Natasha was back and that things were slowly returning to normal.
As they moved to the living room, Clint carried the takeout bags to the table, and Natasha gave Harry's hand a reassuring squeeze. Despite the rocky introduction, Harry could see that Natasha was genuinely happy, and that was enough to make him push through his confusion and frustration. The conversation between the three of them shifted to the dining room and Natasha, with the help of Barton, told Harry about the past few days of her life and the role Barton played in helping her leave her job.
"So let me get this straight," Harry began, his brow furrowing in curiosity as he looked between Natasha and Clint. "You're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was sent to kill Natasha, but you chose to help her instead?"
Clint nodded solemnly. "That's right. Sometimes, missions aren't so black and white."
"S.H.I.E.L.D. as in Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division" Harry mused aloud, a spark of recognition flickering in his eyes. His knowledge seemed to catch Natasha and Barton off guard. They exchanged surprised glances, silently questioning how Harry was aware of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s existence.
Natasha raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "How do you know about S.H.I.E.L.D., Harry?"
With a confirming nod from Clint, Harry didn't hesitate. He reached for his mobile phone and dialled quickly, the tension in the room palpable as they waited for a response.
After just two rings, a familiar voice answered at the other end. "Agent Coulson, can you come to my London apartment as soon as possible? Thank you," Harry said briskly before ending the call.
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Harry's actions sinking in. Natasha and Clint exchanged a glance, realizing that Harry had just taken a significant step. For Harry, it was a mix of determination and curiosity driving him to involve Coulson, seeking clarity and perhaps even reassurance in the face of this new revelation about S.H.I.E.L.D.
Clint broke the silence first, his expression a mix of admiration and relief. "You're not what I expected, Harry," he admitted, his voice carrying a note of respect.
Natasha, always quick-witted, added with a playful smirk, "Looks like you've landed yourself in the middle of spy business, darling."
Half an hour later, Natasha and a thoroughly perplexed Clint Barton found themselves seated in Harry's London apartment, facing the amused and stoic presence of SHIELD's second-in-command, Agent Coulson.
"I see Director Fury was unnecessarily concerned about your survival in Budapest, Agent Barton," Coulson remarked dryly, his lips twitching with restrained amusement. "And it appears your mission to neutralize the target went slightly off script since she's not only alive but rather free."
"Heh," Clint chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "I figured she'd be more valuable on our side, so I made a judgment call."
Harry huffed; his scepticism clear. "You could've just called me to Budapest. I'd have handled it better than Robin Hood over here."
"Hey!" Clint protested, sitting up defensively.
"You blew up a building?" Harry exclaimed, unable to contain his incredulity. "That's not Nat's style. You must've been the one suggesting the explosives. Typical Yankee moves." Natasha raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye as she exchanged a knowing look with Clint. "We had to improvise," Clint shrugged, his tone unapologetic. "The situation called for drastic measures."
Coulson nodded slightly, agreeing with Harry's assessment. "Captain Potter has a point."
"You only agree with him because he's got Captain in his name," Clint shot back, a playful glint in his eye. "You really need to keep your lover boy on a leash," he added, teasing Natasha.
"What did you just say?" Harry's voice rose slightly, his competitive nature kicking in.
"Boys, behave," Natasha interjected with a barely suppressed smile, shaking her head fondly. It was evident to everyone present that she was thoroughly enjoying the banter and the playful dynamics unfolding before her.
Coulson leaned back, observing the interactions with a calm demeanour, clearly amused by the entire spectacle. "It seems we have a lot to discuss and plan moving forward," he remarked casually, redirecting the conversation to more serious matters.
"The two of you need to head to DC and have a chat with Director Fury," Coulson interjected, his voice steady and authoritative. "I'll take over from here and ensure the Red Room is dismantled. We need to ensure the Red Room's influence is completely neutralized,"
Natasha nodded thoughtfully, her mind already calculating the next steps. "I'll also need a new alias," Natasha interjected. "New passports, identity cards, the works."
"Any suggestions?" Coulson asked, raising an eyebrow.
Natasha didn't miss a beat. "Natalie Rushman. Texan studied European history with a minor in Latin. Came to the UK for a year-long exchange program, where she met a retired army vet—Captain Harry Potter—and fell in love. Now we're headed back to the States to introduce him to my parents. Feel free to fill in the other details."
Coulson smirked "Sounds like a well-crafted cover story."
"Indeed," Natasha replied, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.
"For now, the two of you will stay here for a couple more weeks until things settle down," Coulson continued, his gaze shifting between Natasha and Clint. "The world's on high alert after your little stunt. Airports are under close watch. I hope Captain Potter doesn't mind the extra company."
"It's fine, Agent Coulson," Harry interjected, his tone slightly begrudging yet accepting. "This is as much her home as it is mine and I don't mind babysitting Robin Hood here for a couple of weeks."
Clint raised an eyebrow at being referred to as "Robin Hood," but he shrugged good-naturedly. "Hey, I'll take it. Beats being called worse things."
Natasha chuckled softly, enjoying the playful banter despite the seriousness of their situation. "Thank you, Coulson," she said sincerely. "We appreciate your help in all this."
Coulson nodded once, his demeanour shifting back to business. "I'll arrange everything. You two get ready for DC."
As Coulson took his leave, Natasha glanced at Harry with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Looks like we're stuck with each other a little longer, babe."
Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "Seems like it. Just try not to blow anything up this time."
"I can't promise you that," Natasha replied with a grin, her gaze flickering toward Clint, who raised his hands defensively.
"Why do you know about S.H.I.E.L.D. though?" Barton asked again, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"Because he was on our recruitment list," Coulson replied casually as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Natasha perked up immediately. "Oh, do we get to work together now?" she asked eagerly, a spark of excitement in her eyes.
"Sadly, no," Harry replied, causing Natasha to pout in mock disappointment. "You know what they said about me in the army. I'm not cut out for following orders, even though I'm damn good at what I do. No, I plan to be the homemaker while my girl travels the world to save it from the shadows."
Natasha couldn't help but chuckle, leaning over to give Harry a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Always the romantic," she teased affectionately.
"Whipped," Barton commented with a smirk, enjoying the banter.
Harry shot Barton an amused look and responded with an elegant raspberry, drawing laughter from everyone in the room.
Coulson watched the exchange with a faint smile, amused by the camaraderie and banter among them. "Well, it seems Captain Potter has his priorities sorted," he remarked dryly, though there was a hint of approval in his tone.
"I'd say so," Natasha chimed in, looping her arm through Harry's. "And I'm lucky to have him."
Clint shook his head with a grin. "Well, as long as Natasha's happy, that's what matters," he said diplomatically, trying to diffuse any tension.
Harry nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Happy wife, happy life," he quipped, earning a playful swat on the arm from Natasha.
"Looks like you're already under full control, Captain," Clint teased, gesturing between Harry and Natasha.
Harry chuckled, wrapping an arm around Natasha's waist. "Absolutely," he agreed wholeheartedly, pressing a kiss to her temple.
The room filled with laughter and ease, the tension from earlier conversations dissipating in the warmth of their shared camaraderie.
Author's Note:
Hello everyone and thank you for reading my fanfiction. I hope you are enjoying the journey that we are taking together. This chapter was so fun to write. The whole Barton scene was I would consider peak discover writing for me personally. Even I was surprised with what my head came up with. I was laughing so hard while imagining it. I don't know if it came out well in the writing though. Please leave your thoughts in the comment section and leave a review on what you think about the story so far. Thank you for the lovely reviews that you have left for me. Also, for all those that have left a review. I have replied to all of them via private messaging on the website, do give it a check.
I have recently started a P. A.T.R.E.O.N with the name Bivz643, if you guys are interested in reading ahead. For now, you can read ahead to chapter 12 of this fanfiction. There is only one tier with the benefit being that I will be posting 2 chapters per week there.
Anyway, see you all next week. Happy reading.