study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

For a moment Natasha thought that was all he was going to say. No, they weren’t the most logical of people, and if Clint thought with his head always she wouldn’t even be here, and if they both followed the rules and what was logical they wouldn’t be together. Some of the most important decisions that had shaped her life had little to nothing to do with logic.

She felt him go even tenser under her hands, and before she could say anything else he actually opened up a little and she felt her heart ache at his words. He had so much faith in her, more than anyone else in her life ever had, and he truly believed she could do anything, but at the same time he had so little in himself. Luckily he had her.

“I don’t know if that’s what I want, and I have no idea how to be a mother,” she said, working steadily at his neck. “But... I don’t think I can go through the procedure to get rid of it.” There, she’d said it, it was out there, and while still terrified she also felt relieved. “I’ve killed so many people, but inside me right now is life. I can’t...” Her breath hitched and her words faltered.

Clint winced again, louder this time, when one of Natasha's strong fingers hit just the right spot and a sharp burn shot through his neck, followed by a relieving prickle. Well, now he could at least lift his head again, and turn it enough for a short kiss on her hand. When she started talking, he reached back, ignoring the pain from over-strained muscles this time and held her hand right there, with his lips pressed against it. It was okay, his kiss was supposed to tell her, she could say it, whatever her feelings on this, the worst part, were. He had her like he had her hand.

And then she said it, the hardest part, and while the fear remained, that voice of panic wanted to start fluttering in his head again, that painful clench in his stomach was gone. He hadn't dared to hope so, but they were on the same page here. And this was the point where he could let her know. He would still be with her if she changed her mind, but right now this was the better solution for them. Maybe not the right one but the best.

"You don't have to."

He turned to her as fast as he could right now and wrapped his arms around her stomach, searching her gaze firmly.

"Okay? No one can make you. Not S.H.I.E.L.D., not anyone who might think to know what's good for us and what not and certainly not me. And I'm glad you feel that way. I mean, I could... We both could do it if you wanted it. But maybe we should leave this to chance. It will still hurt as fuck if... you know."

He pressed his lips against her forehead, let her feel the tremble going through his body that wasn't pulled muscles this time.

"But at least it's not our responsibility then. And maybe, I mean... We have a few months, right? We can prepare and..."

He shrugged, helplessly, still terrified to the bones just by the thought of it. But if it really did happen, if they were lucky... Then there was no way out. Then they would have to learn what they didn't know yet.

"We can learn how to do this, I think. How to have a kid and stuff. I mean, together..."

Natasha winced slightly herself when Clint did, but he soon reassured her he was okay, and not just with the pain. He held onto her hand, kept his lips pressed to her skin, and she was able to get the words out, the words she had been afraid to tell him. He said he would stand by her no matter what, but since he wouldn’t give his opinion on any of this she couldn’t judge which would be easier to live with to him.

The way he turned and pulled her into his arms, the way he looked into her eyes... she knew this was what he had been hoping for. He didn’t want to get rid of it, and the thought of losing it scared him as well, she could tell by the tremble that coursed through him, but he wanted to try. He wanted to take that risk with her.

Her arms moved around him and for a moment she forgot how to breathe. They were really talking about this, about having a baby, about raising a child together. It felt like a dream, this couldn’t actually be real, could it? Strike Team Delta, Hawkeye and the Black Widow, raising a child, their child?

She let out a choked noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “We’re really going to do this,” she said in disbelief, though the beginnings of a smile curved her lips. She was absolutely terrified of every option, but she didn’t feel like she was falling apart anymore. That must mean she had made the best decision, right?

"We're going to do everything we can", Clint agreed with a firm nod.

That still hurt his neck but he decided he didn't care about that right now. Natasha looked so relieved, so happy suddenly, that a great weight was lifted off his heart. He thought, he could live with the fear for the moment. For the next months. They would share it and carry each other. They would carry each other when the worst happened, when something happened to the baby after all. But he didn't want to think of that now. They had a chance, a good chance. Heck, that was more than they often had had in the past on a mission.

"I want to believe in this", he added quietly, softly stroking Natasha's reddened, sensitive cheek with his thumb. "Whatever happens, we'll be able to say, we tried. Maybe we should take another ultrasound or something next week and then again and... you know, just to go sure and all. And we'll talk about everything and how we get this done and...
I just..."

He tried to rest his head on Natasha's shoulder but no, that wouldn't work yet, so he just held her close and tried to breathe in shaky, long sighs through the new threatening panic.

"I'll need you in this, red. You need to watch me, you need to tell me if I'm doing something wrong."

His voice broke and he held her even closer to his chest, with tightly closed eyes, to chase away ghosts emerging from 30 years old graves. Natasha believed in him, she had told him that, and maybe if she did, he could, at least a little. But he was scared. So fucking scared.

Clint was just as afraid as she was about losing the baby, but he still wanted to try, had wanted to try all along, she could see that now. He hadn’t wanted to effect her decision, hadn’t wanted her to keep it for him or to be afraid he would resent her if she got rid of it. He really would have supported her no matter what she decided, but she was now even more glad she had decided this.

She felt him wince again as he tried to move his head too far, and she softly rubbed the back of his neck, not putting any pressure on for now, not while they were still discussing something so important. It was a promise, though, that she wasn’t finished with him.

“I’m with you. Always,” she said, kissing him wherever she could reach when he pulled her closer. “And if you decide this isn’t what you want at any time, that’s okay. I’ll understand.” She had to give him that out, to make that standing offer just in case, just so he knew she wouldn’t hold him to this, wouldn’t trap him if it became too much.

Clint shook his head against Natasha's shoulder so she would feel it. As uncertain as this whole thing still was for them and partly would be until the end of the pregnancy... This at least he could say without the slightest of doubt.

"I've never left you alone, Nat. Unless you send me away one day, I'm with you, no matter what. You know me."

He backed away from her enough to give her a weak smile.

"Much too stubborn to give up, remember? We'll just... hope for the best."

Very slowly, still hesitating, one of his hands went from her back to her stomach, ready to pull away anytime if she wasn't comfortable.

"This is... still pretty freaky, you know. But in a good way."

She did know him, but she had to be sure, she had to give him that option even if he never took it. He kept saying this was her decision and she had decided to keep the baby, but it had to be his decision to stay with her, with both of them.

“Sometimes I do love that stubborn streak,” she replied returning his smile, though hers was a little stronger than his.

Dropping her gaze to his hand as it moved slowly to rest against her stomach, she drew her bottom lip in between her teeth. Even though she was expecting the touch her muscles still contracted involuntarily under his hand, but she quickly covered his with her own to keep it there and let him know it was alright.

“Believe me, I know,” she said with a bit of a strained chuckle. She hadn’t thought it even possible, hadn’t expected to ever have to deal with this, and now... it would take some time to truly sink in, she was sure. Her body had already started to change, and it was probably that physical aspect that would finally drive the point home. He had said it was a good thing, though, and she raised her eyes back to his face, just reading his expression.

It was ridiculous, this shouldn't be such an issue. Clint had touched her a million times before, and nothing had changed since the last time... Well, maybe not exactly nothing, because this time he knew that her skin and that unusual softness of her bell felt different for a reason. And that thought alone was enough to make his heart beat faster and made it harder to breathe, but he fought the unease bravely.

He had told her he would try, and he would. Every day again. He had no other choice. They had made this together and he would do his best to act accordingly.

He couldn't fuck this up, he just couldn't. Not this. This wasn't an important shot or some gala diner where he had to behave and ended up embarrassing himself anyway. There was a tiny human being in there in Natasha's body, her baby, his baby... His hand trembled badly, but she held it and it was okay. She was there. He wasn't alone in this, just as little as she was.

And if they did right... If they could raise the child just the right way, they would bring a new life into this world, their life, their responsibility, their legacy. Something they had created together...

It sounded still so abstract, so far away, but there it was, right under his hand. He imagined how her belly would feel in a few weeks, when she would really start to show, and that thought suddenly had him smile with anticipation. Well, here he was, a silly sap after all. They would have to go shopping, buy her bigger clothes and... They would have to buy baby stuff too, right? Clothes and a bed and all and where the hell was it supposed to sleep?

Sure, they had her apartment and his roof loft in New York, but hers was small and his neighborhood wasn't exactly where he wanted to have a kid. He could rent that damn thing out just like the rest of the house, he was pretty sure, there had been people interested in the past... More money was always good, they would need it for wherever they were going to live. They would have to talk to Nick and maybe Tony and... Oh God, Stark, they would never hear the end of this.

He nuzzled his cheek against her neck with a sigh, seeking closeness. But he kept on softly caressing that still mostly flat part of her body where all their hopes and fears now were, and pressed his lips to her skin again and again.

"Oh my God, we're having a baby", he murmured against her neck, still in disbelief, but at least it didn't sound that scared and defeated anymore.

She felt his hand trembling under hers but she didn’t let him go and she didn’t take her eyes off of his face. She could still see the fear, the worry in his eyes and she knew that would take some time to get past for both of them, if they ever did. Then, suddenly, he smiled and for the first time since this had started she felt like maybe, just maybe, they would really be okay.

Breathing out a sigh of relief Natasha smiled too and gave his hand a squeeze before letting off so he could touch her as he wanted. Wrapping her arms around him again she cradled him against her and rested her head on his shoulder, one hand still softly caressing his neck.

His words were muffled against her skin but she still heard them clear enough, the exclamation of the reality they were facing. This wasn’t a dream, this was really happening. “We’re having a baby,” she repeated, but the words didn’t sound any less strange from her own lips.

For a long while Clint just held her like this and enjoyed that they could embrace and comfort each other like that again. It had been a few bad days and there would be more of them to come, but what they had, what they shared, always stayed the same. They would try and hold on and maybe... Maybe they had a shot at something they had never thought possible. Never even considered...

"Jesus."

Clint shook his head against her shoulder again and huffed out a quiet laugh, followed by a wince when he raised his head again to look at her. He would have loved to sit with her here all day, but then he probably couldn't move anymore at all by tomorrow. And tomorrow would most probably be another morning of Natasha feeling sick and needing his help.

"I should lay down for a while", he murmured, apologetically, but didn't let go off Natasha just yet, instead leaned in to capture her mouth with his. Because that was another thing he definitely had missed.

The last hours had taken their toll on both of them, though, her lips felt just as dry as his own, and she tasted of salt. The bad, sour, sad kind, not the fresh breeze of a good long swim in the ocean.

"You need to drink, red", he sighed but still made no move to let go off her. It felt just too fucking good to be in her arms right now, especially sincea part of him still felt like drowning in a shady bottomless ocean.

Time stretched on but Natasha didn’t seem to notice. Yesterday had been one of the most emotionally exhausting days in recent memory, but now as they held each other it wasn’t painful and awkward, nor was the silence uncomfortable. Things would change, she knew that, but for now they seemed to have found their balance again, that indescribable thing that made them work so well together.

When Clint finally stirred Natasha smiled at his laughter even as she felt him wince against her. Leaning back to meet his eyes she brushed on hand through his hair, over his cheek, along his jaw. She returned his kiss and part of her wanted to lose herself in it, but once again his focus was on her needs and well being. At least he wasn’t too quick to get rid of her, as she was content to stay in his arms a little longer.

“How about I get some water and you get into bed and then I’ll try to work out some of this damage you’ve done?” she replied with a small smile and the barest hint of that familiar twinkle in her eye. She wouldn’t tease him too much for pushing himself too hard because this wasn’t just him being bored or competitive. She knew why he had done it and she couldn’t be hard on him for that. It was as much her fault as his.

"Hm-hm. Make it bad, okay? Like, really painful. That keeps me from working out ever again."

Clint grimaced a little and pushed himself up with a sigh. By now the last of water from the shower before had dried, so he stopped by his dresser to trade that towel for a pair of light underwear. Attempting to put on more clothes sounded far too exhausting right now.

It was a relief to get comfortable on the bed, not only because he felt like he had just jumped from yet another building. The day had been challenging to say the least.

He stretched out on his back while Natasha was busy in the kitchen and stared out of the balcony windows to the still very bright afternoon sky, trying to comprehend what had happened in the last hours. A baby... It still sounded like a bad script from a daily superhero soap or something. Forget Stark, the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. would make this the joke of the century on the bulletin board. Not that he gave shit what people thought.

But admittedly, the whole thing didn't miss a certain hint of irony. And here he had been sure that Pepper and Tony would produce the first baby in their team. Or like, Jane and Thor. Wasn't the guy the God of fertility too or something?

It would be absolutely horrible and he would probably have to keep Natasha off Stark's throat on a regular base but... He couldn't get the picture of her holding a baby in her arms out of his head. That was so much stronger than silly team bickering and even the fear of fucking this up spectacularly. They weren't there yet, not by a far stretch, and he should be glad probably because hell, they both knew shit about how to bring up a child. But it could be. It could very possibly be...

His head felt too hot with stupid giddiness suddenly and he reached for a pillow to press it against his face with a chuckle. Cold ruthless rational master assassins. Right. More like a family business suddenly.

“So you can become soft and pudgy like me?” she teased. “Ever again is a long time.”

Taking her mug to the kitchen and dumping the rest of the tepid tea, Natasha got a bottle of water from the fridge and took a few small sips. She would probably have to start drinking more milk for calcium, along with other things. There was probably a whole list of foods to eat and another of foods to avoid for the next few months. That part she definitely wasn’t looking forward to. S.H.I.E.L.D. usually provided healthy meals for their agents, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t eat other things if she wanted to. Then there was the drinking alcohol, not that she really did that much, but still. Maybe she should see if there was a library nearby to get some books on the subject.

Taking the water with her to the bedroom, she stopped in the doorway and grinned in amusement to find Clint stretched out on the bed with a pillow over his face. “Now it’s not that bad,” she said, setting the bottle down for a moment as she swapped out the long pants and restrictive blouse for a pair of shorts and a tank top. Easily locating a bottle of massage oil she settled at the foot of the bed and started with his calves.

"Just wait until I've lived off pizza and pasta for a month, red."

Clint peered down at her from under that pillow, and his teasing grin turned into something softer at once. It was a great relief that they were back to joking around, and that touches didn't feel so forced anymore, but even better was seeing that Natasha honestly seemed to get better. She didn't hide in these baggy, too hot clothes anymore, they were done with crying at least for the moment and her stomach seemed to be okay except for the mornings. That was good, right? That was normal...

And she could still kick his ass if he behaved like an idiot, thank God. There would be no time for beating himself up on a damn workout bench in the next months. He needed his body and mind fully functioning if he was to carry her through this. Natasha had her own very memorable ways of making him remember that.

But she had oil, and that made it so much more endurable. It was definitely wrong how much he enjoyed her hands on him, even when he had to grind his teeth and breathe through the only slowly ceasing cramps in his legs.

As soon as she was close enough, he placed his hand on her thigh and gave her a soft, just a little fuzzy smile.

"Thanks, red. Promise, I'll return the favor."

It was amazing how relieved she felt now that the decision was past them. She was still terrified of the future, of the possibilities that still remained, but for now the decision was made and Clint was standing by her, no matter what. That made all the difference in the world.

It felt good to touch him, to feel his skin beneath her fingers, to feel his muscles flex and relax under her touch. They had been almost as strangers, their touches awkward and unnatural, but that much of it seemed to have passed without the pain and uncertainty hanging over them.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, returning his smile as she moved on to his thighs. “You really did a number on yourself, didn’t you?” she said, working the muscle a little harder than necessary. She would never be too hard on him, but if he wanted it to hurt then she could make it hurt. Just a little. Then maybe he wouldn’t do something this stupid again for a very long time. “Maybe you should stick with water sports from now on.”

He could have told her that he had just forgotten to warm up properly - not at all was more like it - and that he wasn't that young anymore, but why lie to her? She'd know, anyway. She already had her way of telling him what she thought about his stupidity. A way that had him groan between his teeth from time to time or bite down on that pillow. It would just bring back this unbearable tension between them to make up excuses.

"Adrenaline helps, you know. Mostly I just got wasted in the past when I wanted to forget, but sometimes... Can't really remember how often I woke up in some dirty side valley because I ran too long and too far in the middle of the night. Especially after all this crap with... after New York. Probably lucky they didn't just shoot or stab me somewhere by accident."

His hand on her thigh caressed her softly, just a little to not distract her from her task, and his eyes rested on her face unflinchingly. Only these little pained sounds were on his lips from time to time, but they already came less frequent. Natasha knew what she was doing, always had. He definitely didn't plan on making this a habit anyway. Or at least not in a way that she had to watch.

"Sometimes I need that. Sometimes it needs to hurt outside instead of inside."

Natasha was very glad for his honesty; it made her feel like they really were on the road to healing. Had he lied to her now... she wasn’t certain how she would have reacted, but that probably would have signaled the end of the massage.

Of course it still hurt to hear it. All those times he had ran, would they have been better had she been there? Maybe they should have taken this vacation earlier, or she shouldn’t have accepted so many missions without him, but maybe they were both running from something. Either way, there was no point dwelling on it now. It was in the past, and while she preferred to live in the present, for the first time in her life she really had to think about the future.

“I understand,” she said quietly, and she did. They all had their vices, their ways of dealing with the things that were difficult to accept or get through. Moving a little further to kneel at his side, she bent forward to place a soft kiss to his stomach before continuing her work. “For what it’s worth, between drinking, running, and this... I’m glad it was this.” Had he run off she would have worried about when he’d actually return, or if something would happen to him in his emotional state, and while he could be fun when he was drinking, not so much when he was doing so to drown his sorrows. She was pretty sure that would have only led to more tears for both of them. He was in a lot of pain now, but it was the less stressful of the options, and the one she could help him through as she was doing right now.

"Thank you."

Clint's eyes fluttered close and his body went a lot more pliant under Natasha's hands. They were both grown up people, master killers, for fuck's sake, they sure as hell didn't need the other's permission for their ways to handle their demons. But knowing that Natasha didn't judge him, wasn't disgusted by his weakness, made it so much easier to melt into her touch.

He felt a lot better already in fact (though he would agree to cook her a five course meal in an instant if she wanted to go over his back just one more time). When her hands were close enough, he lifted his head to kiss her fingers, one after the other, ignoring the faint layer of oil. His hand wandered from her thigh up to her back to caress her in soft circles. Better, definitely.

His right biceps would be pouting for another few days but he knew his body well enough to be sure, nothing had torn, and being able to move again just felt amazing. Slowly, piece by piece, he could feel balance slip back into his body and mind. By now he really enjoyed Natasha's warm, skilled hands treating him with the soft warm oil. He made a mental note to use it next time when he gave her a massage. When she was touching him too lightly or brushed over sensitive places, he shivered a little, another sign of his vitals coming back to life.

He still felt drained but that was probably more to not exactly having eaten much in the last few days. And his stomach was still on holidays, but a small bite for diner wouldn't hurt anyway.

But first he wanted to hold Natasha in his arms for a while. They had allowed themselves too little of that in the past days.

"Come here?", he whispered softly, raising his hand to her face, his thumb gently brushing her lower lip.

He finally let himself relax and Natasha worked her way over the rest of his body that she could reach in this position. She still found a few hard knots here and there, especially in his arms, but the task was easier now that he’d let his mind go as well.

She smiled warmly when he started to get more affectionate, and though she let him occupy her fingers for a moment she didn’t let him completely distract her from her task. After a while she found little resistance left in his muscles and just continued to run her hands softly over him, spreading the oil over his skin and feeling him practically melt under her touch.

Eventually he stopped her, and she leaned into his touch and kissed the thumb against her lips. “I haven’t done your back yet,” she pointed out unnecessarily even as she stretched herself out against his side, one arm on his chest and her face hovering over his. “Your shoulders and neck still need some work.”

"In a minute. Just..."

Clint placed his hand on her neck and pulled her close. Her lips were just as soft and warm against his like her hands touching him before. This was all he needed right now, drawing his lips gently over hers, her tender cheek against his rough stubble, her beautiful eyes close enough to drown in them.

He bumped her nose playfully with his and caressed her neck with slowly moving fingertips and just the smallest of pressure, reminding her of that promise of a massage soon. He wondered if he hadn't realized or just put it on the sun so far, that her skin had a slightly red glow to it, especially her cheeks. Somehow he doubted, she had just strained herself that much while working his muscles.

"God, you're so beautiful."

He kissed her cheeks too, long, tenderly, and then her mouth again, and then leaned back again with a sigh. He knew he should roll over and let her continue, but it felt much nicer laying her like that, with her curled into his side.

She thought of playfully protesting, of insisting he let her finish first, but instead found herself sinking into the kiss, relishing in the gentleness, the familiarity. If felt like forever since he had kissed her like this, so tenderly and lovingly, though she knew it had only been the other night. That night felt like an eternity ago.

Smiling when he broke the kiss and nudged her nose with his, she opened her eyes to meet his again when he spoke. It wasn’t an uncommon sentiment, but when he said it she believed it. When he said it she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world, like the only woman in the world, and then he was kissing her again and she nearly purred at all the attention.

When he finally rested back against the pillow, all thoughts of moving had fled her mind and she curled in against his shoulder instead. Paying no attention to the oil on his skin, she kissed his chest softly, her lips lingering long against his skin. “You do know how to make a girl feel special,” she said, her lips turning up in a grin.

Clint didn't tell her that she simply deserved it though it was true, he settled on kissing her forehead instead, and stroking her back softly. There was another of these small harmless shivers where her lips touched his skin, making him sigh softly and pull her even closer.

His other hand came up to play with her hair and trace tender patterns over her cheek and temple. This was heaven after all the pain from the last hours, and he wanted it to last forever. Soon enough his fingertips on her waist slipped around her body and traced her belly again, a lot calmer this time. The fear wasn't gone yet, but now there were also these harmless giddy thoughts on his mind when he touched that certain spot and thought what was there... what would be there soon.

And because his stomach always had the perfect sense for ruining moments, it startled to growl exactly in that peaceful moment. Clint groaned a little and shut his eyes tightly, trying to ignore it but Natasha probably wouldn't. So much for cuddling for hours. Oh well. There still was the night.

Despite everything they had been through these past two days it seemed his body couldn’t help to react to hers. Would that change as her body did? Would she still be able to make him shiver when her belly was big and rounded? And what about in the future when they were both exhausted from nights spent awake with a screaming baby? Best not to think about that now.

His touch was gentle, unhurried, and she lay her cheek against his chest and sighed, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of his fingers running through her hair and over her cheek. Soon his hand found her stomach again and while she once again flinched slightly she soon let out a content hum at the touch.

A hum that turned into a laugh when his stomach suddenly broke the piece and serenity with a rather large growl. “Sounds like your stomach is finally protesting its gross mistreatment lately,” she said, playfully running her hand over his stomach this time. “I guess your back will have to wait. I somehow got distracted from my task...”

"It's okay. I can move again. See?"

With Natasha still held safely by his side, Clint sat up and made it nearly without pulling a face. Oh well. The day wasn't over yet. He leaned down for another quick kiss but got up then quickly before temptation could grow too big to lay back down. Cuddling was only half as romantic with a constantly growling stomach.

"So, how's your stomach doing? Any special wishes?"

He tried to stretch out carefully, with one hand propped on the bed-post for leverage. No, not good yet, but a lot better.

Clint managed to get them both sitting up again, but it wasn’t without pain and she gave him a definite “oh, really?” face for his attempt. Maybe while the food cooked she could at least give his shoulders a quick working and finish up after dinner.

Rubbing one hand over her stomach, Natasha considered how she was feeling. “I’m... actually a little hungry,” she discovered. She knew some women made it through their pregnancies without being sick hardly at all, while others were ill the entire nine months. Clearly she wasn’t going to fit into that first category, but maybe she would be lucky enough that her ‘morning sickness’ actually stuck with the mornings and faded later in the day. Pursing her lips to one side she tried to remember what they had bought at the market, but that seemed ages ago, and Clint had done most of the shopping anyhow.

“Do we have enough ingredients to make pizza?” she asked after a moment. Pizza was something they usually just ordered, but the idea of making their own, from scratch, was suddenly very appealing.

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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