study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

They didn’t get a lot of time off together, at least not enough to make a trip away worthwhile, so for this one weekend they decided to stay in the city and play tourist for the day.

They had started with a walk through Central Park before grabbing an early lunch at one of the city’s many street vendors and then wandering through the American Museum of Natural history. Natasha found the Hall of Minerals fascinating while Clint had gotten a kick out of all the dinosaur bones. They both enjoyed laying under the big blue whale with all the normal people.

Afterwards they went to a nice restaurant for supper, blending into the crowd of normal couples as best they could and Natasha actually forgot if she was playing a role or being herself as they finished their wine and shared their desserts.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely as they left the restaurant, stepping back into the cool night air. Nearby a busker played guitar and sang with surprising melody and soul, barely seeming to notice as people threw change into his open case, so caught up was he in his music. 

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"I'll try once you're out, I promise."

Clint answered her gesture with turning his head to her, to softly graze her temple with his lips. Tenderness, care, closeness. That was all they had right now. And him at least taking care of himself enough to not worry her. Technically he had driven cars on a gallon of blood loss or high like a fucking satellite, after some asshole had injected drugs into his system, so a little tiredness wouldn't kill them. But Natasha didn't need one more weigh on her mind.

"I'll down a pill or two if necessary. We both need to be fit tomorrow."

With a still very unwilling sigh he wriggled out of her arms - trying to avoid a discussion made it easier - and got out of the tub to take one of the prepared towels. He held it out for Natasha in his hands, inviting her to step in so he could dry her.

"Want to have that snack before? There's ice cream in the freezer or the rest of that salad. Or I can cook you something."

Try and succeed were two different things, but she had to trust that Clint would take care of himself, for her if for no other reason. Tomorrow was important, and they both had to be in the best shape that they could be, considering the circumstances. “Okay,” she agreed.

Very reluctantly she let him out of her arms. She knew he was trying to keep her from pressing the matter, but she let him go anyhow. Pulling the plug on the bath she got to her feet and stepped out and into the towel Clint held ready for her. “I think I’ll just stick with toast or crackers for now,” she said. Maybe tomorrow she could eat a more balanced meal, but for now sticking with what was bland and comforting sounded like a better idea.

"Crackers in bed. We're turning into one of these couples", Clint chuckled.

He dried her body gently, carefully but without drawing anything out, just making sure she wouldn't be freezing, and fastened the towel around her chest then, placing a quick kiss on her shoulder. He felt fresher now, the dust off the day washed off, and a lazy tiredness had settled in his bones that he welcomed with open arms. He brushed his own towel half-heartedly over his chest and fastened it around his hips, already half out of the door to get busy in the kitchen.

It was thanks to his guilty pleasure he had actually two different kind of crackers in the house. Also, it was really not his fault that the wholemeal version came only in animal shape. At least he could prepare a nice plate with a little selection that way. With the plate in one hand and a bottle of water in the other he entered the bed room, half expecting and half worried that Natasha would already be asleep. It would be better if she had something more to eat before.

Natasha let him go off to the kitchen alone. She knew he needed to feel useful right now, and if waiting on her, taking care of her, gave him that then she wouldn’t try to take it away.

By the time he joined her in the bedroom she had traded her towel for a pair of panties and one of his t-shirts and was sitting cross-legged on her side of the bed, the sheet pulled up over her legs. “You could have just brought the box,” she said, smiling softly at him.

"Hey, don't disillusion me. I like to think of myself as a great cook."

Clint made a show of bowing in front of her like a waiter in a high class restaurant and sat the plate down on the bed in front of her.

"I remember that shirt", he remarked, sitting with her with a small, thoughtful smile. "Got that when we were in Croatia. Most boring drug dealer in the world. You were clawing at the walls after two days."

“Oh, well, in that case you did a wonderful job of preparing these crackers,” she replied, smiling a little wider at the act. Of course leave it to Clint to put the utmost care into something as simple as this. Two kinds of crackers, of course. Picking one up and nibbling at it, she looked down at the shirt she wore.

“That one?” she stated, shaking her head. “Sometimes it’s nice to have a quiet mission, but that one was definitely too quiet.”

Holding the other half of the cracker out to Clint, she gave him a look that pleaded ‘please? for me?’.

That look on her face just couldn't be resisted. Grinning, he lowered his head and snatched the cracker from her fingers, not pulling a muscle though food still tasted like nothing with a hint of nausea right now.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind quiet missions if we were sent to places like here", he added, grinning.

It was nice, pretending for a few minutes that everything was fine, that this place was still perfect for them and that they would just go back to their old lives once they would fly home. Like nothing had happened at all. Reality would kick in soon enough tomorrow. At least for a little while he didn't want to think about it.

"Rich and lazy by day, a little hunting by night..."

He laid back on the mattress with his arms crossed under his head, casually getting out of reach of that plate.

"Got a feeling, accounting department wouldn't be happy with us, though."

Natasha had made her living out of pretending, and it was even easier to pretend when it was something she wanted so badly. She wanted that normalcy back, that carefree feeling they’d had yesterday. Maybe it would only last a moment, but it was a moment she would gladly take.

“One accounting report that bad and they’d banish us to Siberia,” she said, crunching on another cracker. She knew what he was doing, laying back and away from her, but she played dumb. As much as his hypocrisy was annoying she didn’t want to fight right now. If he wanted to starve himself she didn’t have it in her to argue.

"Damn. Looks like we have to go into private business and finance ourselves after all."

It was out of pure habit that Clint reached out out to touch Natasha's back and when he caught himself hesitating, he mentally cursed himself. This thing could only come between them if they let it. She would tell him if she needed distance. So he rubbed gently along her spine while she ate, straightened her hopelessly tangled curls a bit and tried to let the quiet sounds of a city going to sleep - or at least into party-mode - in the distance soothe his own restlessness.

A cat mewled somewhere near the house and his thoughts wandered to Liho immediately. He really hoped she would be back tomorrow. As stupid as it was, little one had become something like... like a symbol for the good hours of happiness they had had here. He didn't believe in such crap, but maybe it was a good omen anyway if the kitten would be back and in one piece every morning...

He sighed a little at his own sentimental thoughts and covered his face with his free arm.

"I feel old. I know I'm often joking about this, but today I feel really old. You know, like... worn out."

It was a joke, of course, but it wasn’t an entirely bad idea, really. Their own business, maybe as bounty hunters? No, it was silly. No point to even think about it.

Letting out a soft sigh at his touch, she managed to eat a few more crackers before setting the plate aside and settling on the water instead. For a moment they sat in contemplative silence, listening to the quiet sounds outside; the cats and the people and the waves crashing on shore.

Looking over at him when he spoke again, Natasha’s brow furrowed. Capping the water bottle she set it on the bedside table before shifting around to lay on her side, facing him. She understood what he was saying, and while she didn’t have the years on her that he did, she had a lot of experiences that made up for them. Maybe this, all of it, was a wakeup call that they shouldn’t ignore. They couldn’t remain at the top of their game forever, and maybe it was time to start thinking of a plan B. Even the best field agents had a shelf life, and eventually they ended up relegated to desk work, or one day they simply didn’t make it back from a mission. Neither option was too appealing, to be honest.

“Maybe it’s time for a real change,” she said, tucking one hand under her pillow while reaching out to gently trace along his jaw with the other.

Clint let out a quiet sigh and pressed into her touch immediately, enjoying every second of it. This... this already helped. Her gentleness and care. Her trying to be there for him when really it should be the other way round. Maybe both had to work. As much as he wanted it, he couldn't always be strong for her.

They were so devoted to each other... It actually wasn't hard imagining them being on their own, two badass fighters out there doing their thing, with their own network and all... No orders, no one to tell them what to do... It was a nice fantasy.

"We need a fancy name", he murmured between soft kisses on her palm. "Bonnie and Clyde is already taken, though."

Then he got more serious, though, because she also was, and he wanted her to know, he took such worries serious.

"In any case I think that holiday might be longer than expected. Gives us much time to think where go to next. We can talk to Nick when you feel ready for it, tell him that we want more autonomy and all. Work less, organize ourselves and our mission on our own. If he doesn't like that... There's enough crime out there for everyone to fight."

It wasn’t about him being there for her, or her being there for him. They were there for each other, supporting each other; that was the way it worked, they way it would always work. They didn’t have to be strong for each other, but they had to be there.

He seemed receptive to her touch so Natasha shifted closer and rested her head on his shoulder while continuing to brush her fingers lightly over his face. She didn’t comment on his joke, knowing he would get more serious in a moment. Her statement had been an honest one and she knew he would reply in kind soon enough.

He made it sound so simple, but could walking away from such a secretive organization be that easy? Maybe it could. Of course it didn’t help that director had a soft spot for them. She looked up to Nick and had grown to care about him over the years, and she hoped if push came to shove he’d say the same. He was a leader, though, and had to do what was right for the organization. It would be an interesting discussion for sure.

“Okay,” she agreed simply, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to let out slowly.

Too heavy a discussion for tonight. They would talk about it, when they had that other load off their shoulders. A thought that still hurt but was buried deep enough at least for the moment to not make it through Natasha's soft touch. It was nice to know though, they were on the same page here, at least in what they wanted. How it would play out then... They would have to see once real life would be calling them back.

Right now Clint didn't want to think about that. He nuzzled his head against hers, lips seeking out the tender skin of her forehead and listened to her breathing for a while, one hand ever so carefully busy with her hair again. A lost cause.

"I'll wash it and comb it out for you tomorrow before we leave if you want", he murmured. If she would feel that bad again in the morning, she would be hardly in the mood to do that herself.

It was easy to pretend, but it wasn’t easy to look toward the future, now when the present was so messed up. They would be together, that much was certain, and the rest they could deal with when they got there.

Moving her hand to rest over his chest, she concentrated on the rhythm of his heartbeat, on his fingers uselessly trying to tame her tangled tresses. Whatever happened tomorrow, whatever their future held, as long as she had this to return to she thought she could face it head on.

She nodded lazily against his chest at the offer, and while the last thing she wanted to do right now was move, she knew there was one more thing that should be taken care of before they slept if she wanted to alleviate the inevitable rude awakening tomorrow even the slightest. “Can I bother you for one more thing?” she asked, though she knew she didn’t need to. He would do whatever she asked. “It involves moving.”

"Whatever you need."

Clint kissed her forehead again, softly, long, waiting for her words or that she would move so he could get up.

"Do you think you can sleep, red? Or should we try that massage?"

"Do you have a basin or an empty trash can?" She had no doubts she'd be sick again in the morning, and if she could be saved the made dash to the washroom that would be of some comfort.

"I think I'm okay. Another time." A massage sounded nice, but the idea of laying on her stomach right now didn't. She really just wanted to curl up in a ball and hope that tomorrow came sooner rather than later.

"You got it."

Clint wriggled his way out from under her carefully and made it to the bathroom, fortunately without letting the short dizziness from standing up show. In the morning he would have to throw in another oranges or two, whether he liked it or not, even if his stomach turned at the thought. This went on like that, he could soon join Natasha on her morning sickness trips, he thought with a slightly bitter frown. As soon as he was alone again, even if it was just to find that bucket Angelina used for water to wash the windows, things already began to weigh heavy on his mind. He hurried up a little more than necessary to get back to the bed.

That tightness in his throat got better as soon as he was back with Natasha, thankfully, setting that bucket down right next to her head end and than laying down on his back again. He patted his chest shortly, with hopefully the last exhausting feeling smile for the day. Though he doubted he would be sleeping really soon, at least he could help her find the needed calmness.

"My turn to be the pillow."

Curling up a little tighter when she was alone, Natasha tried not to lose the relaxation that had settled over her in those last few moments. There was no point thinking about any of it anymore tonight. Nothing else could be done, and it would all just be even worse tomorrow if she didn’t get some sleep.

She was grateful when Clint returned quickly, setting the bucket by her side of the bed before laying down beside her again. He repeated her motion from lastnight and she quickly complied, curling up at his side again and laying her head on his chest. Yesterday had been amazing but it already felt like a lifetime ago. She realised with growing sadness that it would be a very long time before they had a day even close to that good again, even despite the mishaps of the morning.

“Goodnight, Clint,” she muttered, placing a soft kiss to his chest before closing her eyes and settling in.

Clint answered with another soft kiss on the top of her head and wrapped his arm very loosely around her, his hand resting on her hip, so she could sit up anytime she wanted to. Then he waited.

It worked. Slowly, but it worked. Her slowing breathes was the needed line for aligning his thoughts into a dull rhythm of numbers and paragraphs. He concentrated mostly on Italian, not only because he should perfect his skills if they stayed here longer than expected. It was less chaotic than fleeing in six different languages to desperately try drown his mind, like in the cellar before. This time he was much calmer, years and decades of learning how to focus helping the task, and he actually made it to keep his head completely blank.

He breathed with her for a while but then found it easier to keep a four second rhythm in time with his inner monologue. His muscles felt heavy, not like something in his back would tear any moment anymore. He was still.

What wouldn't come though, was sleepiness. It was more that training zen he had tried to achieve without success earlier. He could have made a few really good shots right now.

Fortunately he had considered that possibility on the run to the bathroom. He waited until he could be pretty sure, Natasha was out, then he peeled the pills he had brought from their blister cards and swallowed them dry before burying the blister under pillow to throw away tomorrow. It wasn't exactly stuff he wanted her to see him taking. It wasn't stuff he particularly loved to take himself. But it had helped a lot in the past for not dreaming of Loki fucking his mind over every night. Or for not dreaming of all the creative way of killing Natasha planted in his head by this bastard. He would be waking up pretty dead, but nothing that two cans of coffee couldn't fix.

It turned out, the shit was even better on a nearly empty stomach. He counted hardly four or five more of Natasha's breath before he was gone.

For a few hours Natasha actually slept quite peacefully with Clint’s warm body, steady heartbeat and soft breathing lulling her off. For a few hours all was right with the world, but unfortunately it didn’t last. Eventually the nightmares came, dreams of memories long past. She dreamt of that tiny bundle that had not lived to take its first breath, dreamt of the pain, the loss, and as with most of her nightmares she dreamt of blood. There was always blood until she was practically drowning in it, always red that wouldn’t come off.

When she awoke, though, it wasn’t the nightmare that brought her quickly back to reality but that familiar churning of her stomach. Rolling away from Clint she grabbed the bucket he had set out for her last night and brought up what little food there was in her stomach.

It was too early after too little of rest. Clint's mind was dull and slow and it took him a moment to even realize that Natasha had moved, and then he had to force his eyes open with all willpower. After more long, confused seconds, when the already far too familiar noise started, he finally remembered that they weren't on some mission, that he wasn't out on too much painkillers. That this unfortunately wasn't quite a holiday anymore either.

He was still trying hard to blink away his dizziness when he scooted behind her to help her out, his movements aimless, but somehow he made it anyway to keep her hair away from her face. It was even more tangled than yesterday. His other arm rested against her back, hardly touching her, just a support to lean into when the worst was over. There was a bitter taste on his tongue, his stomach hurt and he felt a little like joining Natasha in her morning exercise but at least he was awake now. More or less. Pre-coffee awake.

And as if his head didn't feel heavy enough already, at this very moment a quiet but very persistent whining sounded from outside the door started. Well, at least that had worked, Liho was back and obviously hungry. That made at least one of them.

Clint was there, just as always, though it had taken a little longer than expected. He was clearly exhausted and needed more sleep, and she wished she wouldn’t have bothered with the bucket and had gone to the washroom instead. Maybe then she wouldn’t have woken him at all.

When she had stopped retching she stayed still, hugging the bucket and trying to even her breathing. It was here, the morning was here, but it was still early. She had hoped to sleep through as late as possible so there would be less time to fret.

Grabbing the bottle of water she took a mouthful and swished it around before spitting it into the bucket. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep,” she said, her voice strained and scratchy.

Clint hesitated. Usually he wouldn't even have considered it, but truth was, he felt like a train had hit him. Another half an hour of rest and then two gallons of coffee sounded not that bad, especially since he had to drive soon.

But he just couldn't stand the thought of Natasha strolling through the house on her own. He couldn't leave her alone with this horrible wait.

"What about you?", he asked, his voice not sounding much better than hers. "Think you can fall asleep again? I can just go take care of the kitten and come back..."

Of course he wouldn’t even attempt to sleep more unless she did too, though she could tell from that hesitation that he wanted to. Honestly she wasn’t sure if she could or not, or how long her stomach would give her a break, but she didn’t exactly want to get up yet either.

“I can try,” she said, setting the bucket on the floor. “I can at least get a little more rest.”

She was glad that Liho seemed to have returned, especially since she knew Clint had worried she wouldn’t, but Natasha could have done without the crying so early in the morning. So early on this morning.

"Back in a minute."

Clint ran his hand shortly up and down her back, more unnerved than anything when he realized that it trembled. Yeah, lots of coffee and some orange juice later.

He took it slower with standing up than usual and managed to stay clear in the head. Since they had gone to bed only with towels yesterday, he picked a pair of short pants on the way. There was a plate with cut meat in the fridge that he had prepared for a meal, actually, but obviously not needed yesterday, and Liho's bowls were still in the house from yesterday. So it was a matter of seconds getting her food and milk ready. And he even had a second to drown that disgusting taste in his mouth with a sip of juice.

Little one was still visibly wary when he left the house and walked around it to the box he had sat up for her there. But just like yesterday, her hunger got the better of her and she followed him. He didn't bother trying to making friends this morning, for once because he still felt like someone had smoked a joint in his head. And because there were other, bigger worries on his mind. Also, an autumn morning in Sicily was as cool as everywhere else and he was freezing miserably when he came back to the bedroom.

Yeah, at least half an hour under the covers sounded really nice.

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Natasha Romanoff | The Black Widow

September 2020

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