What's left of us (for broken_arrow)

[russianchildatprayer]

The fire is spreading fast. The gamemaker wastes no time blowing up his arena, now that the winner stands.

She should be in the elevator already. The heat is unbearable, scorching the small hair of her arms where her uniform has torn, and stinging in countless ulcerous open wounds.

This one will scar.

There is no reason to linger. The other four are dead, she’s made very sure of that. Some put up a fight and suffered more than she would have wanted. But by now they all made it. They’re all relieved off what Dreykov still politely likes to call life.

All but one.

She could still end it. Her guns have drowned in that acid pool on the first day already and her last knife is stuck to the hilt in his liver. She can’t near him again if she doesn’t want to end up like him after all. But there’s enough rocks around. Worst case, she’ll burn her fingers while smashing his skull, before he has to suffer much worse pain.

The thick iron of the artificial walls, the faded layers of grass bred miles under the surface, just for this one purpose of yet another natural selection for Dreykov’s likes… All is glowing with the flames closing in around her. She can feel the hairs on her neck rise, smoking from the heat.

Still she keeps the door of the elevator open with her good arm, refusing to let it carry her to safety, to care, to the proud shimmer in Dreykov’s eyes and another nightmare to come by.

She shortly wonders if she should try take him with her. Maybe they’ll show mercy for once. He’s stood against her until the very last minute, after all. And even in that last fight she’s been nothing but lucky. It could be her bleeding out on the ground just a few meters away now.

She could try but the girl who’s been trained since before she even had been able to understood why and for what, knows better. The elevator won’t move if she drags him along with her. The doors won’t even close.

Only the strongest survive.

She’s been praying that he’ll pass out in these terrible few seconds of uncertainty, of trying to make a decision that’s long been made for her. She should know better. If a God exists, he has never taken particular interest in her life.

He turns to her, and she can see his eyelids are on fire. His lips form words that she can’t hear with one eardrum ruptured since day 3 and the rising noise of trees falling, barrels exploding, rocks crashing.

Maybe she’ll be able to tell herself for a while that he wants her to run.

But the part of her that turns away and takes the elevator to safety because there’s never been another way for her, knows better.

His last words were that he’ll find her.

She wishes, he could. Probably that’s why she left him alive. For the smallest chance that he’ll come for her, this time without making a stupid mistake. That he’ll be the one to finally put an end to it.

Only there’s no way he’ll make it out of there. There is no way out. They have made sure.

She won’t sleep better with that knowledge on her mind but that isn’t the point. Nightmares of seeing her lover burn to death is the easiest punishment she can wish for.

***************

Nightmares were hardly a rarity since Washington, but this was the first time Natasha awoke screaming. Still caught up in too bright, too detailed pictures burning behind her closed eyes, she realized too late that she was far too close to the edge of the bed. Before her instincts could kick in, she went to the floor, tangled in sweat stained sheets and landed on the very same shoulder that desperately needed a timeout anyway.

And that had been the last fucking time to take painkillers before going to sleep.

After she could breathe without wincing out in pain again, she left the bedroom to put together some kind of breakfast and a new load of meds. A postcard in her mailbox immediately made her forget about patching up that shoulder new. She couldn’t help but wonder how Steve had found her. It seemed, she had taught him better than she had realized.

Sam and him hadn’t found anything yet, that amateurishly coded card said. He wanted to know if she was okay. Saying they could use a hand. Sure they could.

He was stubborn, she had to give him that. She wondered if he’d still be once he found out the rest about her, all the stuff that was openly out in the world after Washington. And he would. Once they found Barnes and he would go back to a normal life… Steve would get to know the whole truth about her, sooner or later. There probably wouldn’t be postcards with smileys on them then anymore.

Time for another relocation, it seemed. She had waited for weeks, something that was far too dangerous anyway, and by now all hope was gone that at least a message of Clint might eventually catch up with her here. Hell, there was no telling if he was even still alive. Maybe the buzz out there had at least died down enough by now to try and find out that. The nightmares wouldn't go away from sitting and lying around in apathy much longer, that was for sure.

Ignoring her slightly dizzy condition, due to a few days without enough food, as much as the new warm, wet spots staining the bandage under her shirt, Natasha went back to the bedroom to pack her things. If Steve had found out where she was, chances were too big that someone else would too, to linger much longer.

Comments

[russianchildatprayer]

Natasha hesitated, because the very last thing she wanted was hurting Clint, just because she was too impatient to let him fully heal. Only it was pretty clear from the way his cock strained again her leg, that he wanted it just as much. And here she had thought they had left the times of being silly and reckless behind...

Andy yet the second he got his fingers back inside her, her body immediately went tense and the next embarrassing sound came from her lips. Whom was she trying to fool? She was still so fucking wet for him, she'd just have ended up in the bathroom getting herself off if they stopped now. A shame when he was so clearly willing...

"Oh God..."

Her eyes fell close when he teased her with his slick fingertips, right there where she loved it so much, which made up a little for the new loss of him withdrawing so quickly. Marginally better. Her muscles still tried to clench down onto nothing, an empty, nearly painful sensation of want.

Gentle? She could do gentle, though that wasn't something they had tried too often in bed... Her hand seemed to have developed a will of its own, sneaking down Clint's stomach until she had him in her palm, impressively hard again, sensitive to her touch, pulsating with the same arousal that drowned her clear thinking. She stroked him slowly, with her lip drawn back between her teeth, her breath going faster with every move. Picturing how it would feel to have him inside her now didn't exactly help her decision.

Fuck this.

"Open up a little for me, hotshot", she murmured huskily, carefully pressing her hand against his injured leg, far below the bandage, to make him spread his thighs further.

Better. Turning her body to the opposite side and keeping her leg on the inside of his, that wouldn't bother that damn wound. And with her own legs spread more, she could press her crotch more easily into his, which promptly drew another whimper from her when his cock glided through her wetness, until she was panting audibly.

Enough teasing. She guided him deeper, with her hand still softly wrapped around his base, until he was as deep inside her as possible in this position, and another relieved, turned on noise came from her lips. Fuck, she had forgotten how very hot this was. She clenched down on him tentatively and promptly moaned again, burying her forehead against his shoulder. Too good, too tempting. She wanted to pleasure him, of course she did, it got harder by the second not to move. But that last nagging worry didn't want to go away that she would make his injury worse, the one on his side especially.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

She rubbed her body as close against his as possible, needing to feel him, the warmth of his skin soothing away the coldness of her fears. She ended up trembling in his arms just harder, feeling him so perfectly filling her with every move that her muscles fluttered around him again and again without her will.

[broken_arrow]

Silly and reckless was part of his charm, Clint figured, and it was something he had no plans of growing out of any time soon, especially when it felt this good. Watching her react to his every touch was nearly as arousing as her own touches. Nearly. Sucking in a sharp breath when she wrapped her hand around him again, he kept his eyes on her face, willing her to give in.

No, gentle wasn’t something they had really done in the past when it came to sex, but he knew she could be gentle, knew from all the times she had cleaned and stitched him up after a mission. Her hands were weapons, dangerous and deadly, yet soft and caring when she wanted them to be. Just like the rest of her.

When she finally gave in Clint felt an excited stir in his stomach and he obeyed instantly, spreading his legs wider. He wanted her so bad and he was grateful that she didn’t draw this out; only seconds later she was sinking down over him, engulfing him in her wet heat, and he let out a low moan as she did so. Burying his face in her beautiful breasts when she clenched around him, he squeezed her buttocks with one hand and wrapped the other arm around her, holding her tight against him. For a long time he didn’t move, just held her and relished in the feel of her, how she trembled in his arms and squeezed him gently.

“Christ, I’ve missed this,” he muttered against her, rolling his hips just a little before stilling his movements again. “You feel so fucking good.”

[russianchildatprayer]

"Hmm, do that again."

Natasha finally lifted her head off his shoulder, revealing her sweat glistening, reddened cheeks and that slightly dazed look of increasing pleasure in her eyes.

Hearing him talk in that heavily aroused voice soothed a little of her worries. She finally dared to press her hips down onto him, feeling him deeper, feeling him rub against her most intimate spots. With the slightly rotated position it was slightly different than usual, but just as good. There it was again, this perfect fluttering of her muscles around him that had her shiver against him and mewl with pleasure.

She couldn't be as wild with him as she usually preferred when she was on top, but she could drive him crazy in other ways... Moving slightly against that sweet touch of his hand on her ass to encourage him, she started clenching down on him tightly, a lazy, slow rhythm that had her moan out rhythmically in no time.

"Love your cock inside me", she murmured against his ear. "Missed it so much how you stretch me open..."

Her tongue darted forward, teasing his ear and licking off the small beads of sweat on his temple, then she sucked his earlobe between her lips and started nibbling on it earnest, the sounds from her throat vibrating against his skin.

[broken_arrow]

She didn’t have to ask twice. Clint repeated the move, groaning in pleasure as she pressed down to meet him at the same time. He could feel her slowly loosening up, her worries fading as he showed her he was fine and reminded her how good this felt. It was the same but different, and no less amazing.

When she pushed back against his hand he could certainly take the hint, but it took him a moment to respond when she picked up that rhythm and he had the clenching of her muscles and that sexy fucking moaning to adjust to. “Oh fuck,” he muttered when she started talking dirty in his ear. She knew damn well that was one of his sensitive areas, and when she started nibbling on his earlobe he had to force some rather unsexy thoughts into his head so he didn’t end this too quickly on his part.

Remembering himself, he slid his hand lower, his finger brushing against where they joined together and around her folds to get newly lubed. “If you put your foot on the cough beside me you might get better leverage,” he suggested in a stilted tone as he circled his fingers around her asshole. He didn’t know if the change of position would help her, or if she even needed it as much as she seemed to be enjoying herself, but he’d never been good at keeping his thoughts to himself. He rolled his hips again, falling into rhythm with her as he continued to massage her hole before pushing just the very tip of one finger inside, stopping at the first sign of resistance.

[russianchildatprayer]

"You always have so creative ideas..."

Natasha's chuckle was bright and sweet even through her arousal. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, her tongue was already off to tease his ear again while she rearranged herself the way he had proposed. Then his fingers started wandering though and she had no breath or mind for witty remarks left.

"Yes, please..."

The new position did indeed wonders to angle and leverage and soon she lost the last of control. The movements of her hips came tighter and quicker now, in time with her moans, and she didn't even need to concentrate on clenching down on him anymore. Just feeling him so impossibly hard and thick, so deep inside her, had her muscles work him in a relentless erotic grip with every thrust.

Already she could feel the heat build in her groin again, that perfect tension arching her back, and her hand got caught in Clint's hair again, pulling his head back so she could look down at him, show her what he did to her with his passion and his hands.

"Don't stop..."

[broken_arrow]

“Until you manage to short my brain out,” Clint chuckled in return. Keeping his hands in place when she moved, he growled a little in his throat when she started riding him in earnest now, her muscles bearing down on him hard, making her feel so incredibly tight.

He tried to bury his face in her chest again but her not so gently grip in his hair had him looking up at her and he was instantly transfixed. The gentle prompting brought him back around and he remembered what he had been doing before. Moving his free hand to her butt as well he started massaging the puckered skin around his finger as he pushed deeper and pulled back before pushing deeper still, his finger moving in time with the rhythm they’d already set with their hips.

[russianchildatprayer]

Natasha cursed. Her hand tightened in Clint's hair as she crushed her lips against his, hungry, greedy, her tongue pushing his back in his mouth to claim him as hers.

He was just perfect. He knew exactly what she needed and didn't hesitate giving it to her. On the other hand she did her very best to please him as well, bringing her hips down hard against both his hand and his rock hard cock while her free hand clawed down on the back rest for support. With him filling her so perfectly, thick and long, it was always a tight fit, and when he fingered her like this then, the way they both enjoyed it, every single move set her nerve endings on fire.

All her muscles tried to clench down on him at once and she gasped into their kiss, shivering violently. It was just the perfect sweet burn to add a touch of adrenaline to their game, and it made her want so much more. She thought of that oil she had brought from her "shopping" tours for muscle treatments and massages, thought of that one time when he had fucked her not just with his fingers until she had come gushing all over his cock and thighs.

Just the memory combined with his perfect touch had her body go rigid out of nowhere. She pulled out of their kiss to curse and moan and suck in a hoarse, too big breath when that tension inside her unloaded a second time. A hot spray of pure lust from her heated center coated Clint's groin as she whimpered and bucked against him, still moving and clenching down hard on him to get him to that very same edge.

[broken_arrow]

She kissed him like she was starved for it, forceful and hungry and so fucking hot, and he gave back just as good though she was clearly the one in control, her tight grip on his hair giving her all the power.

Maybe the longer hair wasn’t so bad after all.

She finally seemed to be over her worry of hurting him, her movements becoming harder, rougher. At this point Clint didn’t even care if he pulled his stitches so long as she didn’t stop doing what she was doing. She was clenching so hard around him, both his finger and his cock, that he was sure she was going to short out his brain.

Somehow he managed to push her there first. Feeling her contract and shudder, feeling that fresh gush as she let herself go, he stopped trying to hold out and let himself follow her.

[russianchildatprayer]

She hadn't expected it to be so easy to push him over the edge a second time, but it had been long for both of them, definitely.

And she fucking loved just as much as always, to feel him empty himself inside of her. It was messy and dirty and close and all kinds of perfect. She coaxed him through his orgasm with her muscles still clenching around him until they both laid breathlessly in the other one's arms.

Her head had fallen back on his shoulders, her back trembled under his hand, and on her lips there was a most satisfied smile of pure bliss. Much gentler this time, her fingers caressed through his hair and over his sweat covered neck as if to apologize for the rough treatment before. Her other hand softly stroked his arm, his chest, just feeling his warm, soft skin this time without any intentions.

"Missed this so much", she whispered into his ear, still a little hoarse from her moaning. "Missed you..."

[broken_arrow]

He felt amazing, she felt amazing, and he let his head fall to rest against her shoulder as he trembled and panted, trying to catch his breath. The loneliness of the past few months faded away now that he was here in her arms, buried deep inside of her, covered in her lust.

Nuzzling into the crook of her neck as her hands moved gently over him, touching him and petting him and coaxing him into this blissful state, Clint wrapped his arms around her loosely. When she spoke directly in his ear his hold tightened a little. He had wanted to say the same earlier but hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment by getting mushy or serious, but now that she’d said it he didn’t have to hold back.

“Missed you too,” he breathed against her sweat slicked skin. So much for getting clean, not that he minded one little bit. This was the kind of dirty he could definitely be down for. “Missed you so much.”

[russianchildatprayer]

Missed you too.

Natasha's smile widened while at the same time tears welled in her eyes. Damn, she wasn't even the type to get sentimental after a great orgasm but... Maybe you had to experience the feeling of not ever being wanted, not being cared for, not being loved in a some so much deeper way than a fleeting romance, just used and praised for deadly skills and lusted after, to appreciate what this was like.

Up until lately Clint had been the only person in her life who had ever given her the feeling, it was really her he wanted. Not the person she was being to survive, avenge and atone.

Even Rogers... She thought she could believe the guy when he said, he wanted to be her friend, but he didn't know her. Not like Clint did. And Clint had never ever backed away from her, no matter how many horrors she had told him about. Not even this time when she had been forced to betray him, betray all of them to save the world. He still was here...

She was thankful for her face being sweat covered, that way he wouldn't feel these other small drops of salt dripping on his shoulder. She kissed away every single one of them while her body slowly came down from its adrenaline ride but was unwilling to let go off Clint, to get up just yet. Though she should probably try to get the worst of mess off him before the water cooled down.

An unwilling growl came past her lips and she just wrapped her arms around him tighter.

"Maybe we should warm some water over the fire. This is kind of not productive for getting clean..."

[broken_arrow]

Clint chuckled when she growled and held him tighter. It was surprising and possessive and he found he kind of like that. He liked being here with her like they were the only two people left in the world, and he very much liked the idea of being hers. He hadnt’ realised how lost he had been without her all these months. The world had seemed darker, colder, the colours duller. Now everything seemed brighter, more vivid, and so much warmer.

“Mm, maybe,” he muttered but nuzzled closer instead. It was a good idea, would save the boiler a bit and they could keep it warming for as long as they wanted, or as often as they needed.

[russianchildatprayer]

"Hang on a second."

Natasha still hated the idea of getting up, but if it was for the sake of getting more comfortable, she was okay with that. She pressed another kiss to Clint's shoulder and wriggled out of his arms then, grimacing a little with disappointment when she slipped off him. She already started to miss that, just another sign for how badly she had longed for this man in the last years.

In the bathroom she got herself clean quickly, with a hint of regret - she had always liked to still feel, smell what they had done afterwards - while she refilled that bowl with water, cold one this time. It would warm soon enough. There was a small board installed across the fireplace for exactly such purposes. With a smile, she remembered how Clint and her had dried their weapons there after a long overnight hunt once. A timeout from their mission that seemed so long ago now.

She left the bowl on that board before she returned to the sofa and gently wiped Clint clean off the worst of mess they had made with the towel she had brought. She didn't want to put pressure on his wounds again after she had already just strained him so much. So after a second of hesitating she laid down on the sofa on her good side, with her legs drawn to her body and her head resting on his good thigh.

"You okay?", she murmured, carefully eying these bandages of him to be sure there wasn't any new blood to see. "Did I hurt you?"

[broken_arrow]

Clint let out something akin to a whine when Natasha pulled away, but as neither of them were really in any shape to wrestle he didn’t try to hold her back. He did, however, openly ogle her naked body as she walked away before letting his head fall back against the sofa, a stupid grin on his face. This was exactly what he’d needed, she was exactly what he needed, and while he knew they would eventually have to move on, he was definitely looking forward to at least a few days holed up here while they both recovered.

Hearing her return to the room he once more followed her movements, a blissful smile on his face. Even with her shoulder bandaged and her body a little thinner than he remembered he was sure he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

She cleaned him up gently before curling up beside him on the sofa, her head on his thigh. “Oh yeah, I’m better than okay,” he said, grinning down at her as he stroked his fingers through her hair. “You?”

[russianchildatprayer]

"Hm-Hm. Couldn't be better."

Natasha let hear something suspiciously close to a purr. Mindblowing sex was just one thing. This, snuggling, being close to someone, Clint's soft, tender touch, that was what she had never had in her life before him. At least not in a life that hadn't been all built on lies and deceit.

She let her arm rest unmoving on her side for a while to give it the needed rest but made sure to press her lips to his thigh from time to time, enjoying the warmth of his skin so close, his well-known smell that still carried a note of hers after what they had done. She liked that. She had been too fucking long without all this.

If there was anything good coming from what had happened, then maybe that they didn't need to be apart that much anymore. She didn't want to keep spending months and years pretending, there wasn't someone who belonged in her life.

"I feel complete with you", she murmured, her eyes seeking his. "This... this is what I want to keep when the rest goes to hell."

[broken_arrow]

Sitting there with Natasha’s head on his lap, just enjoying each other after, well, enjoying each other, with her making noises that sounded suspiciously like purring while he petted her hair... it was surreal. How how they gotten here? Just yesterday Clint had been close to losing hope that she would show up at all and he had been near to having to figure out his own path forward through what was left of his world. It was a dull, dreary prospect, a path that he couldn’t walk with her or that didn’t lead to her, and he was so fucking glad it was a possibility he no longer had to face.

Her breath tickled his skin but he relished in its warmth, in the feel of her silky hair between his fingers. He felt tired, but in a good way, the kind of body tired one feels after a good workout when one can return home and relax. That was it, really: he felt relaxed for the first time in months.

Looking down at her when she spoke, he couldn’t hide his surprise at her words. They had never expressed it that way before, but now that she said it he realised how true it was. Whenever he was away from her for long periods of time he felt restless and agitated, and it was because he felt incomplete, like a piece of him was missing. “I dunno if I can do the Jerry Maguire thing with a straight face,” he said, one side of his mouth curling up in a lopsided smile. “But yeah, I feel the same.”

[russianchildatprayer]

Natasha rolled her eyes at him a little at his remark, but she did it with a smile, and next time she turned her head to put her mouth on his leg, she gave his thigh a playful nip.

He looked surprised and why wouldn't he be? It wasn't like her to talk about her feelings, not in such a close and intimate way.

Well, they were close and intimate, they had been for years whenever opportunity had knocked. Maybe she was tired of hiding from someone she shared such a deep bond with. Believing in something for 10 years and ten learn it had all been a lie, had reminded her once more how little securities there were in this world, how dangerous it was to rely on anything. Or anyone.

She should have been all the more aware, especially of people close to her now maybe, expecting they would betray her too... But Clint had had that chance often enough, and not one day since she knew him he had given her reason to doubt him.

"There's no one I trust like you."

She ran her fingertips softly up and down his side and drew tender circles on his chest, tracing every line and every scar with her nails. All him, all hers, all these years of fighting, suffering and winning together. Some things were certain.

"I didn't know how much that is really worth until lately."

[broken_arrow]

Clint chuckled as the next little kiss had teeth. Hey, she couldn’t expect him to be completely serious when he was feeling this damn good, could she? Especially after so long of feeling anything but? But it seemed the whole encounter had a completely different affect on her that he couldn’t just brush off. In all honesty he completely understood that need to talk, to say the things she wasn’t sure she would ever get the chance to say. He had felt that more than once when things had gone wrong but had always swallowed it down. Now, at the end of everything, it was time to say them. She had always been braver than him, but if she could start then the least he could do was be honest back.

“You can always trust me, Nat,” he said, fingers tracing the line of her jaw. “I was loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. for so long, but when it comes down to it, my loyalties will always lie with you.” No matter where they ended up and who they ended up working for, it was her he would be loyal to above all others. And because he thought she might need to hear it back, he made sure to add, “I trust you too.”

[russianchildatprayer]

Natasha was honestly fine until his last sentence, relieved and a little melancholic but perfectly happy with the moment and the whole situation right now. And then she suddenly found herself reaching for his hand and press her face against it to hide tears.

"That obviously makes you one of a kind."

She didn't want to sound that bitter but her ability to hide had suffered greatly in the last weeks. And Clint knew her better than to buy a smile right now anyway.

"More than ten years... And I was still the treacherous spy to them. I thought at least Nick knew me better. It doesn't matter where I go, I can't ever escape my past."

[broken_arrow]

Pressing her face to his hand did little to hide her tears when he could feel them burning hot against his skin. He knew she was shaken by everything that had happened, but what she’d done and the consequences of it, but he hadn’t really realised how badly. He understood, of course; he knew what it was like to be mistrusted and looked at differently for something he had done. After New York things had never been the same at headquarters, and without Natasha he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

Now the tables had turned back around once more.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out,” he said softly, caressing her cheek softly with his thumb. He was surprised at the mention of Nick being someone who mistrusted her; the director had taken a real shine to Natasha over the years, but maybe it was more her shady, morally grey qualities that made him like her so much. Not that it really mattered now what he had thought. “You’re not your past, Natasha. You’re so much more than that.” But he knew that wasn’t the issue. She knew who she was, but apparently nobody else did. Nobody but him.

[russianchildatprayer]

"I don't know who I am anymore."

Natasha tiredly turned her head back to him, not without a kiss to his palm, though, to let him know how much she appreciated it that he still stood with her and tried to comfort her. Clint couldn't undo what had happened, what she - both of them - had done unknowingly for the wrong side for so long, but he was there for her. He still believed in her. Maybe she needed that more desperately than she had realized.

After the heat of recent pleasures slowly subsided, the room suddenly turned cold again, in spite of the fire. Or maybe it was just the memories, the helplessness returning making her tremble. Shivering, Natasha curled her body tighter as if trying to creep into herself, search for the last of energy and warmth there to keep her going, but there wasn't much left. She hadn't ever gone without a clear direction, this was completely new.

"I don't have a plan, Clint", she whispered, choked, fighting a new surge of tears without much success. "I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. to be a better person, to make up for what I've done wrong. Where am I supposed to when there's nothing to fight for left?"

[broken_arrow]

Clint knew that feeling, he had gone through enough identity crises himself and would probably be on his way to another if Natasha hadn’t shown up when she did. She felt it more strongly than him, though; he knew this. She hadn’t been given the chance to make her own choices and decide who she wanted to be until much later in her life than he had, and to find out that the better life she had left her old one for was just as shady, she just hadn’t been aware of it.

Feeling her shiver against him, he grabbed the blanket that still lay nearby and draped it over her. The cold hadn’t settle back over him yet but if they didn’t get up to tend the fire sometime soon then it probably would. He just wasn’t ready to move quite yet.

“There’s always something to fight for,” he said. He hated to hear her sounding so lost, so upset. Things weren’t hopeless, though; not when they were together. “When we fought with the Avengers we weren’t fighting for SHIELD. We were fighting to protect people.” And gods knew there were plenty of people in the world that needed protecting, even when there weren’t a bunch of aliens attacking.

[russianchildatprayer]

Clint's concern and care had Natasha smile again. She should have known, he'd realize. She nestled against his leg and into the blanket a little more and placed more soft, thankful kisses to his skin. It seemed, Clint never ran out of encouragements and optimism, not when he tried to cheer her up. While she still couldn't see a clear way of where they were heading next, at least he seemed to still have his determination and belief. That had saved her moral before more than once.

His last remark though had her raise an eyebrow at him, with half a grin.

"Thinking about working for Stark? Don't get me wrong, we'd be in good company. Maria and him are up to something. But us? Spandex parade in the 6 pm news?"

[broken_arrow]

Just like that her smile was back and Clint felt his heart lighten. As long as he could still make her smile then everything would be okay, right? And even more so if he could still make her joke around.

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be Stark, but we could protect people,” he said, stumbling over the words a little. It wasn’t even a half baked idea yet, he had barely given it any thought, and while he knew that he should probably do so before talking about it, he had never been the best at thinking before he spoke. “Strike out on our own and be, like, bounty hunters or something.”

He looked a bit sheepish when he glanced down at Natasha, a bit worried about what she might think. “Not that the Avengers thing was a bad gig. We did a good job. Saved the world. We could do that again.”

[russianchildatprayer]

Natasha didn't feel up to decisions right now, not after having just arrived and still sorting herself out, but Clint's arguments sounded reasonable. Really, there weren't that many possibilities left. What were they supposed to do? Exile on a lonely island? A few surgeries until no one would recognize them anymore and a desk job?

Not a thing for either of them. They belonged in the field. They just had to work the details out. There would be time for that in the next days.

Probably there were worse things then living in Stark Tower. Not many but a few.

"But no capes. And no spandex. At least not outside the bedroom."

She grinned up at him and wiggled a bit on his leg to underline her teasing.