For study_in_scarlet

[inevermiss]

There has to be easier ways to see Natasha, but as Clint scales the upscale apartment building, he can't hope but think that she'll at least give him some credit for the extra effort. He could go through the lobby of course, but that would also mean security and cameras and considering the paranoia of the mafia family currently employing Natasha, or whatever her alias is this time, it would probably not be a good idea.

Climbing the building may not necessarily be his best, but it's better than having to wait another month to see her. Besides, he has a piece of information and a message that might be useful to her. Information that he doesn't necessarily want SHIELD to know.

As he shoots his rappel on the balcony of her apartment and climbs his way up the last floor, he can only hope that she's alone. Otherwise, things are going to become a lot more complicated.

Comments

[study_in_scarlet]

Natasha was alone, fortunately, but that shouldn’t have been Clint’s only worry before he embarked on this little plan of his.

It had been a long day, and she was getting tired of this cover already. Some days she felt like she could spend a full year on this job and not learn anything useful, but other days weren’t quite so bad. Usually if she could find even one tiny nugget of intel then it was a good day.

Today had not been one of those days.

It was frustrating not having any data to pass on so far this week, and the prospect of just how long she might have to continue to put up with ‘Lucky’ Mancini and his goons was not a happy thought. Needless to say she was already in a foul mood when she heard the noise outside on her balcony, the clank and scrape that was distinctive to her trained ear. Rappel. Someone was going to try to break in from the outside.

Setting her mug of tea on the coffee table there was a gun in her hands almost instantly. Luckily it was not seen as suspicious to the mafia for people to keep weapons handy, even in their own homes. Approaching the large glass door, she kept her gun at the ready and tried to conceal herself behind the curtains while keeping a good vantage point. She couldn’t see where the rappel had grabbed on but her eyes were keen to any movement, to any sign of someone reaching the top.

[inevermiss]

He was dressed in dark clothing in order to blend into the night, but as he climbed the last of the way and hopped off the railing onto the balcony he pushed his hood back.

The air felt thinner this high up, though a slight breeze worked to cool him down from the effort he'd extended. He grabbed his gear and moved towards the doors quietly, intent on making sure that she was alone and he wasn't blowing her cover.

[study_in_scarlet]

Natasha saw the shape drop over the railing but with the light on inside and the darkness outside she couldn’t make out any features. She kept herself concealed, her gun held up but ready to aim, her eyes fixed on the figure. She could easily take him out right now and nobody would blame her. She couldn’t think of any reason anyone would be breaking into her place except to do her harm, yet she wanted to be sure, and to preferably take them alive, or at least get some information out of them first.

So she waited and she watched, and she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something very familiar about the way the figure moved...

[inevermiss]

He glanced through the curtained glass doors, his eyes focusing in on the light and the room beyond. There was a mug on the coffee table, but no sign of Natasha herself.

He dropped his gear behind a potted plant and moved closer to the door, testing the handle. It was unlocked, no doubt in case Natasha needed to make a quick escape herself. The rappel was a common mode of transportation for both of them.

He had no sooner turned the handle and heard the soft click before the door silently opened that he felt the sense that he was being watched. He turned, his eye faintly catching the barely perceptible, darker shadow on the other side of the sheer curtains.

If it was Mafia, they would've shot already.

"I'm lookin' for a Juliet," he said, knowing she'd recognize his voice if she hadn't recognized him yet. "She around?"

[study_in_scarlet]

The man moved with confidence, not sneaking like an assassin would do, and Natasha felt that spark of recognition though she tried to ignore it. It couldn’t be, he knew she was working undercover; he wouldn’t be that reckless and stupid.

Or so she had thought.

When Clint opened the door and spoke to her Natasha wasn’t sure whether to feel relief that it was him or rage that he would jeopardize her mission like this. Or perhaps worry that something was seriously wrong for him to risk it all to be here.

“You do realise they both die, right?” Natasha replied, stepping out from behind the curtain with her gun drawn and trained on Clint. “I almost made half of that come true, and I am not so sure I won’t yet shoot you somewhere non-vital.”

[inevermiss]

"Do they die?" Clint asked, flashing her a smile in greeting as he moved further into the door. "Kind of a down ending for a love story."

He made a cursory glance around the apartment, knowing that he wouldn't be this far if someone else was there. Still, instincts were hard to check.

"So what's it like being a mob wife? You get a fur coat yet?"

[study_in_scarlet]

“It’s a terrible love story,” Natasha replied. “They’re a couple of selfish children.”

She wasn’t sure what was more appalling at this moment: that Clint seemed entirely unconcerned about what his presence here could do to her mission, or the fact that he didn’t seem to eve know the basic plot of Romeo and Juliet.

“I am nobody’s wife. I’m an employee,” she snapped, finally lowering her gun though she kept it ready. “Now why are you here, Clint?”

She was not in the mood to play around. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

[inevermiss]

There's something in the way she says it - the matter of factness coupled with just the right level of disgust that tells him she's not simply making conversation.

He knows the basic plot. Or at least he thinks he does. It's not like he's ever actually sat down to watch the play, or to read it, but c'mon, it's one of the greatest love stories ever told. And it happens to be a tragedy. Those he can relate to.

"So no fur coat?" Clint asked, crossing his arms across his chest. "That's a let down."

He hesitates when she asks him why he's there. He doesn't actually know all of the reasons. None of them are good enough, but none of them were good enough to stay away either.

"I needed to see you." There's no use bullshitting her, she'll see right through it anyway.

[study_in_scarlet]

If looks could kill Clint might not have taken another breath. How dare he? There were rules to follow when she was undercover, and breaking into her apartment, one that her ‘employer’ was so generously paying for, broke a good number of them.

“Maybe if I offered to be his mistress you would give me one,” Natasha bit out, her tone eight shades of dangerous. That was not her deal, she was done with that racket, and even when she had been in the business of seducing men for information or to complete a hit, they rarely got more than their hands on her before she was making them cry for mercy. She had sold her skills to the highest bidder but she never sold out herself.

When Clint finally answered her question it gave her pause. “What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, her anger waning as worry took its place. “Has something happened?”

[inevermiss]

He's not entirely immune to the daggers that Tasha is shooting at him, even now. He knows that he's broken a cardinal rule. Coming here is against every procedure that they're supposed to follow while on a job. He knows it. But while he's a great operative, knowing for fulfilling missions and getting results, he's not beyond rule bending. Coming here was a risk, but he never would've taken it if he thought there was any chance that could really compromise Tasha in any way.

The warning in her tone isn't missed either and even if it doesn't show outwardly, inside Clint winces. It was a stupid joke, but now it's taken a darker turn. He drops it.

He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. "No one's dead, if that's what you mean."

It isn't and he knows it. He better have a damn good reason for coming. The feeling that he's crawling out of his skin and she's the only one that can make him feel like himself again doesn't seem good enough.

He almost died two days ago, on a mission of his own. Nothing worth writing home about - not for a spy anyway - but there's a nagging thought that won't go away. One that he can't let go of and he wants to tell her, as much as he knows he shouldn't.

"Do you have anything to drink?"

[study_in_scarlet]

While the joking had been irritating under the circumstances, when Clint dropped the act Natasha realised that this was more serious than she had expected, whether anyone died or not. Any lingering annoyance she felt vanished.

“I have vodka or wine,” she answered, finally flipping the safety back on her gun and stowing it away again between the sofa cushions. She didn’t keep much alcohol on hand as she wans’t one to drink on the job unless social activities required it. Not that she was easily affected; she actually had a strong tolerance and ended up feigning drunkenness more often than not. “There’s orange juice in the fridge for mix.” She drank her vodka straight, but she knew Clint wasn’t a fan.

She didn’t press him for information just yet as she moved toward the kitchen, just barely brushing his arm as she passed.

[inevermiss]

"Vodka," Clint said, his voice free of inflection. It was an easy question. Much easier than the ones that were sure to come. Still, Natasha had never been one to rush an interrogation. Not that he thought she saw this as that. Not yet anyway.

He wasn't going to let it get to that point. He'd come here for a specific reason and even had a vague idea of what to say, though he wasn't completely sure he should say it.

He followed her into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter. "How's the mission going?"

[study_in_scarlet]

Natasha didn’t need to hear his answer, she already know which he would choose. Taking two glasses down from one of the cupboards she set them on the counter before grabbing the carton of orange juice from the fridge and handing it to Clint.

“It’s taking longer than I had hoped,” she admitted, bending over to get the bottle of vodka out of a lower cabinet. “But it should wrap up well as long as no surprises throw it off course.”

She gave him a pointed look to go with her comment, but it didn’t hold the venom that it had only moments ago. Pouring a shot into each glass she held one out for him to take, raising one eyebrow in a silent prompt for him to start talking.

[inevermiss]

His mouth twitched slightly at the comment, but he said nothing as he watched her pour a shot into his glass and hand it to him.

He took it and took a drink.

"I was in Budapest two days ago. It was supposed to be an in and out thing." He ground his teeth. "It got complicated."

[study_in_scarlet]

Although she appeared rather relaxed, Natasha was watching Clint closely, taking in every breath, every flicker in his eyes, ever expression no matter how quickly it passed. To most she would appear casual, and completely unaffected by her words. They wouldn’t see the hint of recognition when he mentioned Budapest, nor the faintest stiffening of her spine when he said it got complicated. To them she would be stoic, unemotional, maybe even bored, but Clint would know better.

Knocking back her shot in one, she jerked her head to one side, motioning for him to follow her back into the living room, her glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. “What kind of complicated?” she asked, settling at one end of the sofa and drawing one leg up so she could turn to face him. Her eyes did a quick scan over him, searching for injuries, but she quickly kicked herself for being stupid. His current outfit hid the majority of his skin from her view, and he had just scaled the building to get here. If he was injured it was likely minor, and she wouldn’t be able to see it anyhow at the moment.

It was the deeper injuries, the emotional ones, that she was more worried about.

[inevermiss]

They had language all their own. It didn't require words. Words just got in the way when you were in the line of work that they were in. When you knew one another as well as they did. He knew she was getting his message, even if he hadn't said it out loud yet.

He watched the shot disappear as she knocked it back in one smooth, graceful movement. He followed her, the remnants of his drink sloshing as he moved. He could feel the resistance against what he needed to do building inside of him.

He sat on the couch, less than a foot of distance between them. "Let's just say they haven't forgotten us."

He gives her a half smile. It's a compliment, but it's also a degree of just how badly things had gone. He wasn't even supposed to have been there. The assignment was supposed to have been Hale's, up until the moment the agent had gotten himself made en-route. Clint had gone in to clean things up. To prove to himself that he could.

He throws back the rest of his drink, setting the glass on the table and pushing it towards her. He doesn't look at her as he speaks. "There was this moment." He lets that hang for a second, pushing through the doubts of whether or not he should say what he wants to next. "I got tired."

[study_in_scarlet]

Natasha watched him sit down, studying his movements, noting the lack of distance he put between them. She saw his smile but didn’t return it, her expression remaining neutral though there was something there in her eyes if he looked close enough, a spark of recognition she couldn’t hide.

He shouldn’t have gone back there, they both knew it and it went without saying. She wanted to say it, to ask why he had been so reckless, but there was more story to tell and it would be easier if she let him tell it without interruption.

Sliding the glass closer, Natasha moved to fill them both again but her hand faltered mid-pour as Clint continued and her body stiffened almost unperceptively. Slowly she set the bottle back on the table and handed him his glass. “What happened, Clint,” she said softly, the smallest prompt for him to continue, and the hint that she needed to hear it, needed to know.

[inevermiss]

He took the glass, his fingers brushing hers momentarily in the exchange. His eyes moved up to hers and he knew she understood what he meant, but she needed him to say it. She needed him to finish it.

The glass weighs heavy in his hand as he goes on.

"I'd used my last arrow and they were still coming strong. SHIELD wasn't going to get to me in time and I thought, what if I just stopped? What if I just stopped fighting?"

It hurt to say it. This wasn't him. He'd been fighting his whole life for himself. For the mission. For her. Up until the moment Loki had taken that fight out of him. Emptied him out until there was nothing but a shell left. He'd been fighting harder than ever to get it back. To reclaim who he'd been before, but he knew he could never take the things that he'd done back. Never really make up for them.

Clint reached up and rubbed his chin. "And then I thought about you. And I thought about how you'd never forgive me." He shrugged. "So made a bomb out of some cleaning supplies and fought my way out. And then I came here, because the thought of you is the only reason I'm here right now."

[study_in_scarlet]

It hurt to hear it. That wasn’t him. All of his life Clint had been a fighter, he’d had to be from an early age to survive, and it was the first bit of common ground the two of them had discovered. They were fighters; they fought for a cause, they fought for themselves, and eventually they fought for each other; that’s how it was until Loki had taken him. Natasha had fought tooth and nail, had thrown everything she was into getting Clint back, and she had succeeded, but he wasn’t the same man she had lost. She hadn’t realised how different he was until now and it made her skin go cold.

She had almost lost him. She was sitting here, being annoyed at the slow progress of her mission, silently cursing that it was taking so long to get the information needed, and Clint could have been dead the whole time. She had been angry with him for coming here, for jeopardizing her mission, when he had needed to see her because the thought of her was what had kept him going.

She had been the death of many, but never before had she been the one thing worth living for.

“Clint…” she said softly, but her voice trailed off. What could she possibly say to such a confession? She could apologize, say that she should have seen it coming, but it had been easy to ignore what she didn’t want to see. She had wanted to believe she had saved him, that she had fixed him, but she had clearly been deluding herself, avoiding things she hadn’t been ready to face.

It should have never gotten this far, it should never have gotten so bad that he would even consider giving up. She shouldn’t have taken this assignment that kept her away from him, not when he clearly needed her.

Her thoughts were too jumbled to come up with a worthy reply, so she took the drink from his hand, setting it aside and replacing it with her own hand, cold yet real, alive. “You’re right,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand a little tighter than intended. “I never would have forgiven you.”

Losing him to Loki had opened her eyes to how bleak and grey the world would be without Clint in it, but she had had something to fight then. This was different, and an altogether dissimilar type of terrifying.

[inevermiss]

Natasha struck speechless. That was something he'd never seen before. A part of him filed away the moment as much as he hated the reason being this.

He felt weak. He felt as if he was walking around as an imposter, pretending to be someone he didn't remember how to be any longer. There wasn't anyone pulling his strings any longer and yet somehow he couldn't get back to being his own man.

He squeezed her hand back, not sure what to say. Not sure what more he could say. Part of him felt relieved to have finally said it out loud and another part of him regretted saying it. Regretted coming here.

"Tasha, I..." He stopped and swallowed, looking down at their hands. "I don't want to be like this. I know I'm not the same, but I'm trying. I need you to know that."

[study_in_scarlet]

Even when he lowered his gaze Natasha kept hers fixed on his face, memorizing every line and every twitch as he tried to think of what to say. Neither of them had ever been very good at talking about personal things, instead more likely to bottle it up or brush it off with some well worn catch-all instead of being honest. She had done the same to Clint in the medbay when he had woken up from Loki’s control, choosing to brush off his concern instead of telling him the truth.

What truth could she have possibly offered him in that moment, though? There had still been too much to do, they’d had to focus on Loki and protecting the world, so it just hadn’t been the right time, and after that... there just had never been a right time.

Maybe it was always the right time, she just couldn’t bring herself to seize it.

“You’re still you, Clint,” she said, though she knew what he meant. She had seen it but hadn’t let herself see it, and she felt just as much to blame, if not more, as he was. “Deep inside, you’re still in there. And you don’t have to do this alone.”

She hadn’t been there for him when he needed her, but she could be, now, if he wanted her.

[inevermiss]

"I'm not so sure," he said, looking over at her. He knew this was hard for her to hear. He didn't know what he would do if the situations were reversed.

Still, Tasha wasn't like him. She knew what he needed to here and she said it without hesitation. He also knew that she wouldn't have said it unless she meant it.

He tightened his grip on her hand.

"I know I have to live with it. I know that it's done and I should just move on, but sometimes I have these nightmares. It's not enough what he asked of me, I have to think of all the things he could've asked of me. Things I would've done without a second thought." Clint let out a slow breath. "In the dream, there's no way for me to fight against it."

[study_in_scarlet]

For a long moment Natasha was silent. She knew what he was saying, knew how hard it had to be. He had done some terrible things under Loki’s control, but the list of things he could have done was endless.

“You can’t lose yourself in ‘might have beens’,” she said. Keeping one hand firmly in his she raised her other to lay gently against his cheek. “I know you can’t control your dreams, but you can’t focus on them entirely either.”

Some nights she still had nightmares about her past, about all the terrible things she did and the people she hurt, but she had learned to move on, to work on atoning for those transgressions as best she could. More recently her nightmares had shifted.

Clint wasn’t the only one having nightmares about Loki or what might have happened while he was under the god’s control.

“I know it feels impossible now, but it will get better, and some day you will find yourself again. Trust me,” she said, because if anyone knew it was her, though in her case it hadn’t been about finding herself again so much as discovering who she truly was. Clint had saved her in more ways than one when he had decided to ignore orders and spare her life.

[inevermiss]

Clint couldn't help it. He turned into her touch, meeting her eyes and holding them as she spoke. This was what he came for. To look her in the eye as he told her the truth and to hear the truth in return.

He knew that she knew what it felt like to be unmade. To be turned into something you weren't in the name of someone else's war. She may be the only person who could ever really understand just how difficult it was to claw your way back to normal. If there was ever a normal afterwards.

Still, he had never seen this kind of weakness in her. He had never seen her falter.

"Do you ever get tired?" It's a question he's never even considered before. It's curiosity and a need to know that makes him ask it. Even if he's suddenly afraid of what the answer may be.

[study_in_scarlet]

His gaze was intense as he searched hers, looking for truth and comfort. Brushing her thumb over his cheek she held his eyes unwaveringly until she saw his acceptance of what he saw. He knew she understood, that there were few people in the world who knew what he was going through as well as her, and she didn’t begrudge him for doubting it or forgetting. It was often hard to see past one’s own problems.

His question caught her off guard and she took a moment to give it the thought it deserved before answering. “Yes,” she admitted, her brow furrowing the slightest bit. “Or at least I did.”

It had faded over time. She had been taught to survive, to get the job done, to succeed, but there was a big difference between surviving and actually living. Clint had helped her see that, had given her something to live for, a real reason to keep going, not because that was what she was supposed to do, but because she wanted to. He introduced her to things she had missed out on, wonderful things she had never known; every day he gave her a new reason to carry on. Maybe that was what he needed now. “The day you found me... that was my worst day. If you hadn’t changed your mind I would have let you kill me.”

She was sure he knew, that he had seen it in her eyes all those years ago, but it was the first time she had ever admitted it aloud. It was a terrifying thing to say.

[inevermiss]

It was something that Clint had always suspected, but had never actually thought she would say out loud. He had seen it in her eyes back then. It was part of the reason that he'd made the call he'd made that day.

Still, he didn't know if it was the same. Or maybe it was exactly the same and he didn't want to see it that way. It was easy to forgive Tasha because she never forgot her debt. She carried it with her. He had gotten plenty of blood on his hands over the years, but this much red was something that he could never wash off, no matter how much he tried.

If anyone understood that it was the woman in front of him and if she could still look at him like this then that had to mean that there was still a reason to fight. Still a reason to keep moving, no matter how tired he was.

He reached up and put his hand over hers.

"Your worst day. My best."

[study_in_scarlet]

Natasha’s brow furrowed and she frowned slightly at Clint’s words, her expression not disbelieving, but something akin to it. For so many people, the day they met her had been the worst day of their lives... the last day. She brought pain and death to everything she touched, it was what she had been raised to do. She was poison, she was death, yet here was this man who had been nothing but honest with her saying that the day he met her was his best day.

She didn’t know how to feel about that, didn’t know how to answer, so instead of trying to speak she leaned forward and pressed her lips softly to his.

[inevermiss]

He saw the doubt in her eyes, but he refused to look away. Refused to take any of it back. It was the truth. Meeting Tasha had changed everything. He had gained someone he could trust. A friend, a confident, a family. He hadn't known that day what would come from it. In fact, he hadn't known if she would double cross them, but now it was so clear.

Natasha had saved him as much as he'd saved her that day. He had given her a reason to carry on, and here she was returning the favor. He would fight and keep fighting even though he was tired because she needed him to. That was the end of it.

The kiss surprised him, but he responded to it easily, kissing her back. Trying to convey all the things he couldn't say as easily. When he pulled back, he searched her eyes for a moment before leaning in for another kiss. This one hungrier than before.

[study_in_scarlet]

Natasha wasn’t sure why she did it. She told herself that she wanted to thank him but that she couldn’t find the right words, that it would only be a light brush of the lips, nothing more, but when he kissed her back she didn’t stop him. When he deepened the kiss not only did she let him but she encouraged it.

This wasn’t where she had expected her night to go when he’d first shown up at her window. She had been ready to tear a strip off of him, to berate him much worse than she had about compromising her mission, but now she was glad he was here, that he had come to her with what he was going through. She was glad she could help him, and she was determined to make him see that there were still things worth living for, just as he had done for her all those years ago.

This wasn’t entirely about that, though. This wasn’t some game, she wasn’t twisting his confession and giving him what she thought he wanted. When he looked into her eyes there was only truth, and when he kissed her again she returned it with equal fervor. Maybe she had even missed him just a little; not just friendly contact or conversation with someone as herself, but him.

Her hand slipped around to thread through the hair at the back of his head, pulling him closer, kissing him harder.

[inevermiss]

He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about what it would be like to kiss her. The fact that Natasha was beautiful was undeniable. But for her that was a weapon. A tool.

He didn't feel the way he felt about her because she was a knockout. It wasn't because of those eyes or those lips. Or that body. That was just the tip of the iceburg when it came to her, something that he had found out within the first five minutes of meeting her.

What he loved, what he wanted, was that center. The place of balance she'd found within herself. The one that kept her upright, kept her landing on her feet, never let her give up. That quietness and grace that seemed to lead her from one decision to the next. She was unlike anyone else he'd ever met. Grace, style and deadly precision. There was nothing she couldn't do.

And there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. He knew it was true of her for him because she'd already done it. She'd snapped him out of Loki's grasp, even when he would've put an arrow through her heart without a second thought. Still, he didn't want this to be that.

He'd deepened the kiss as she'd given into it, his hand reaching out to pull her closer, his fingers resting on her small waist. But now he broke the kiss, bowing his head, but not letting her go.

"Tasha," he said softly. He paused. "This isn't because I almost got myself killed, is it?"

Not quite what he'd meant to say, but close enough. He wanted this, but not out of pity.

[study_in_scarlet]

She was breathing heavily when he broke away, and when she opened her eyes she was disappointed to see that he wasn’t looking at her, that he was avoiding her gaze. His question made her frown, and as much as she wanted to tell him no, to tell him what he wanted to hear, she knew it would be a lie. Normally that wouldn’t bother her, all her life she had lied, for years she had manipulated people, found out exactly what they wanted her to be and became that person, but with Clint it was different. He had shown her only honesty and he deserved the same in return.

“Partially,” she admitted. “But not completely.”

It was another close call, another reminder that they were only human. Almost losing him to Loki had been a wake-up call, but now almost losing him to himself... yes, the kiss had been partly about that, partly to remind him of what he had to live for, partly because of her own reminder of what life would be like without him, partly because she had been his reason to keep going. But it was also partly because she wanted it, because she cared about him more than she had ever cared about anyone in her life. There were a lot of reasons, really.

Leaning her forehead against the top of his head, she let out a slow breath.

[inevermiss]

The honesty caught him off guard, but then again that was what he had wanted, wasn't it? More than that, it was that kind of unflinching honesty that kept him grounded.

He knew she could've lied to him and he never would've known it but he wanted this more. He wanted to know she was being real with him, because she wasn't with so many other people.

And really, the fact that there was more to it than just this was all he needed to know. He gave a slow nod, their mouths now so tantalizingly close and then shifted his up to hers, kissing her again without any hesitation.

His hands tightened on her waist.

[study_in_scarlet]

She was afraid he would pull away, that he had needed to hear what she couldn’t honestly tell him, but slowly he accepted it and in a way she felt like he was accepting her.

When Clint kissed her again she returned it instantly. Wrapping her arms around him she pulled him closer, pressed herself against him, and let the moment carry her away. It didn’t matter right now that she was on a mission, that his very presence here could jeopardize it; it didn’t matter that she had almost lost him; it didn’t matter what complications this might cause in their future. Right now all that mattered was the moment, his strong hands on her waist, his warm lips against hers, the slight taste of coffee on his tongue. She was the Black Widow, she didn’t need any man, didn’t need anything but herself, but right now she felt like she might just need him.