The Avengers: Black Widow - by theDURRRRIAN
There was a change in his demeanour that followed the curse, a slight way his heel skipped against the floor as he stopped dead in his tracks. The tendon in Clint’s jaw visibly flexed as he clenched his teeth. His eyes flittered to the room Rebecca was sleeping in. Eyes sharp and protective.
“Yeah,” Clint remarked bitterly. “I remember.”
How could he forget, his back was like a canvas that had been painted by Doom with scars that still gave him pain to this day years after the event. For what had felt like months of torture had really been a few weeks in some area of Budapest. Clint recalled having his fingers bent backwards until they dislocated, the cuts that nearly broke him, the way he just kept laughing at them even when he was nearly throwing up blood.
Cracking the knuckles of his hands he stared right at Natasha. “I have a quinjet here, two agents. If I send..” he frowned.
Bruce would be a really valuable asset right now thanks to the other guy, but at the same time Clint felt fiercely protective of him and didn’t want him in this kind of firing line. This was personal on so many levels for Clint, and with Natasha by his side they had a vendetta to take care of. Fate of the world to a degree, too. Just another day at the office.
Carefully collecting himself, the Hawk slipped into his tried and true mask. Game face on.
“I’ll organise to get them out of here. We’ll set a rendezvous point and work from there. I assume you’ve got another quinjet close by — debrief me then, I want to know everything that’s happened.”
Clint reached out, knuckles ghosting against her cheek with a faint smile. They could do this. Time to face fears. Doom had been totally off the radar after Budapest and now they had their chance.
She gave him a ghost of a smile. “I can take care of myself for tonight. You get everything here taken care of.” She stepped back, slipping back into her mask of indifference.
“On the edge of town, they were planning on building a bathhouse. It would have been quite luxurious and beautiful. Unfortunately, they ran out of money before they could complete it. A new company has since bought the property, and they are planning on demolishing the structure early next week. I’ll meet you there at sundown tomorrow. My quinjet will be outside. From there we can determine what our next move should be.”
She tucked a loose strand behind her ear, and glanced once more at Becca’s sleeping figure. This little girl had finally gotten what all orphans dream of, a dream that for her had never been realized.
She strode toward the door, pausing momentarily at Clint’s side. She placed her hand gently on his arm. “It’s good to see you happy, Clint.” She squeezed gently, and opened the door, disappearing silently into the gathering dusk.
Marvel’s most badass women → Black Widow - Natasha Romanoff (x)
The knock had been expected.
For the better part of a week and a half he’d been holed up in Bangkok with Bruce, and now Rebecca. Barton had flown in with a two man crew on the quinjet, and while he was their superior in this mission he’d be surprised if they hadn’t called him in for insubordination. And as good as he was at lying there was only so many times he could fend off their questions. The orders had been clearly stated by Hill and Fury: as soon as Banner was found, he was to be brought back home. Not set up camp in the rickety place Bruce had been calling home since he’d arrived and wait things out.
It’d been good though — an impromptu vacation of sorts, a rekindling and mending of his relationship. Only further strengthened by the fact they were going to take home a kid. It was going to be a lot of paperwork, a lot of loops to jump and people to satisfy, but Bruce was right they couldn’t just leave her. Bruce was enamoured, and Clint had become incredibly attached. It’d taken the airing of some more demons, hell Bruce and Clint both had ‘daddy issues’ in spades, but they’d agreed that they could do it.
He amusedly thought that once they got out of here and back home that he should just finally ask Bruce to marry him. They’d survived everything thrown at them so far and come out on top, and now they had Rebecca.
So, yes, of course he’d expected the knock. Analytical mind practically had counted down the days. Barton was ready to go home as it were, to settle in and adjust to this new change in his life - their lives. When he’d opened the door he expected his field crew, perhaps even Hill or Coulson coming to round up ‘the kids’.
He did not expect Natasha Romanoff. He did not expect her to look like hell, either.
“Tasha— jesus. Of course.”
Clint pulled her inside, closing the door swiftly but quietly. Already his senses were on edge. For his fellow assassin to have been sent as his pick up meant that trouble was on the horizon. Possibly already happening. She was bruised, looked sickly, and a viciously protective side of him was practically clawing away wanting to find out why. Natasha was like family, and while she was very much a big girl who could take care of herself, it didn’t push those feelings down.
Clint dragged his hand down his face, pacing. Clear and bright eyes locked on the woman in the house. It was tempting to call Bruce out to get him to look her over, but that could turn ugly.
“I’m guessing this isn’t a casual sit’n’bitch like we normally have. What’s the sitrep?”
Her eyes followed his pacing, she most look worse than she thought she did, for him to react so strongly. With a sigh, she sat down in a rickety chair, and watched him pace for a little longer.
“Please stop that, Clint. Just, sit. Please.” She ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. “A lot has changed since you left. Loki is no longer enemy number one. Doctor Doom has taken his place. He’s the leader of some kind of group, and they’ve attacked S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters. I can’t get a response from Fury, or anybody from that matter. They’ve launched an attack simultaneously on Stark Tower.” She paused, looking at Clint to gauge his reaction. She rubbed a hand gently over the bruises on her arm.
“We need you, Clint. No, I need you. Fury has had confidence in me while you’ve been gone, assuming that I can handle our missions alone. But it’s been…difficult without my eyes in the skies.”
Her eyes found the open door across from the kitchen, the dim glow of a night light shining out. She stood, padded silently to the door and looked in. A beautiful little girl was asleep on the bed; a stuffed hawk toy had fallen from her hands to the floor. She entered the room quietly, scooped the toy up in her hands, and tucked it into the little girl’s arms. “сладкий ангел мечты” she whispered, before backing out of the room.
“She’s beautiful, Clint. And she’s very lucky to have found you and Bruce. If only all of us orphans could have been so lucky.” She went silent, remembering her angry screams as the only father she had ever known had handed her away to be brainwashed and tortured. She snapped her attention back to the present. “She’s in danger here, Clint. You remember what Doom is capable of, don’t you?”
She smiled up at him. “I know a wonderful little coffee shop nearby.” She let herself relax. He seemed less terrified than he had mere moments ago, although still overwhelmed. “The shop I have in mind for your suits is a little farther away, but it is definitely worth the trip. I’ve helped Loki pick out countless suits there. They have a wonderful selection, and their tailor can work magic.” She stood, brushing her hands over her black, pencil skirt. She tucked her pen and notebook into her purse and glanced up at him. He seemed lost in thought. She wondered, not for the first time how many rumors she had heard about her relationship with his brother. “I’m ready when you are boss.”
There was the cloud again, that constant remind of his brother and how he would always lingered in his thoughts and conversations. “Yes let us go out and about today, I have no paperwork or any real business needing attended to beyond my slightly personal.” He smiled stepping out from behind his desk. He didn’t want a just boss relationship with her he wanted something at least tangible. Someone he could rely on not just in the office. “Because it seems all my cloths no longer fit.” He stated holding his arms out his sleeve pulling up past his wrist. Marine life with all its troubles had done wonders to his muscles.
She made a gentle clucking noise with her tongue, before reaching over and examining his sleeve. She frowned at him and shook her head. “We’ll find you something that is much better quality and actually fits you. I promise. And then afterwards, we’ll have coffee? Sound like a plan?” She barely waited for his nod, before pulling out her phone and dialing a number. She began speaking in fluent Italian to the person on the other end. After a few moments, her tone warmed considerably, and a smile filled her face. “A fra poco.” she murmured into the phone, before ending the call and sliding her phone back into her purse.
"Good new!" she exclaimed, smiling brightly at Thor. "We managed to get the next slot at Giovanni’s. You’ll love him." She walked to the door and opened it, before turning back. "Are you coming?"
… half the bottle. Shots kinda blurred after a while so I don’t really remember.
Oh sweetie. I’m trying really hard not to laugh right now. Want a Russian hangover cure?
But only if it doesn’t involve raw egg because I might just throw up.
Just don’t ask me what’s in it.
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