inhisnest | for Natasha

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natasha

for Natasha

The observation deck is mostly a place where Clint can be alone (more or less - there's still a little traffic up here) with his thoughts but spending time with Natasha isn't much different than spending time with himself. She's the only person here that he truly feels comfortable with, though Steve and Bruce are rapidly rising in the ranks, and she's the only one he has something approaching a relationship with.

It's been defined as "more than friends" and "more than likely exclusive" but past that, Clint doesn't know. It's never been in the cards for he and Natasha to have a traditional relationship and he doesn't see that starting now. When he sees her approach, he grins.

"Planning to wipe the floor with me?"

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"Mostly? Just to see you," Clint says, grinning a little sheepishly.

"Which I shouldn't have to schedule an appointment for, I guess, but I'm a little out of it when it comes to actual relationships. We've never had anything normal and I haven't really been interested in anyone else in a long while."

"I don't know that I'm going to get used to that," she is getting used to it though, more quickly than she thought possible. His admission makes her smile, a strange half-cocked thing. "Does that make you my boyfriend?"

"Probably technically but we're not into labels, are we?"

He and Natasha are more alike than it might seem at first because while Clint enjoys having the committment and the exclusivity, he's never going to be particularly public about having a relationship. He's a private person, so is she, and he doesn't think that's going to change just because they're together. It won't on his end.

"No," she shifts her hand, squeezing his side before letting it drop away. PDAs aren't her thing, though she's determined not shy away or hide from this. She won't go shouting down the halls either.

"You've seen me," her voice is warm, soft in a way she doesn't use often and without artifice. "Now what?"

"I want to keep seeing you," Clint says lowly. "But it seemed kind of crass to just ask you to come to my room so I wanted the pretense of us having a date first."

It's a little old fashioned and weird and Clint guesses that Steve's been rubbing off on him in that regard. "How much do you think the others know?"

"Steve and Bruce, Sharon?" Sharon is SHIELD and nearly an actual part of the team. "They likely know something is up. If Tony was here I'd say everyone knew."

Natasha hooks a finger through one of his, tugging him toward the window and the view. "So this is a date?"

"I want it to be," Clint says, but the smile he has is sly and sort of amused. "But I'm out of practice. I don't think I've dated since I was a teenager, not a real date where I actually talk to the other person about who I am and what I do. I don't know if I even know how to anymore."

It's not so bad having to re-learn with Natasha, though, and he keeps close to her beside the window.

Her experience is entirely different. Natasha is used to dates, she's used to seduction. This, this is entirely different. She wants this, and wants it to be real. "Who does. If you know who you are, you aren't growing."

"Growth is good," Clint concedes. "And discovering new things about myself is always good too, as well as about you. I just don't think I'll ever be as good at the showmanship of dating as you're probably used to. It bothers me."

Maybe it shouldn't. Maybe there's no comparison and Natasha comes into this with a blank slate but it does bother Clint, an avowed perfectionist, that he might not be perfect.

"Don't let it. I don't want showmanship." Not from Clint, not here or likely ever. "That's all flash, no substance. This-"

Natasha touches him, her fingers skimming over his cheek, her eyes holding his. "You're not flashy, except with that bow. That wouldn't be you."

"I do miss the bow," Clint says, wondering if someday he can't just figure out how to get into that damn room and get it back. "Not that I'd have anything to use it on here but I really miss having it. It's like missing a limb, in a way, and after having my brain hijacked, I don't like feeling off-kilter."

"I know," she'd help him get it back if she could, but she knows it's futile. "We could stage a raid."

"I'd like a nice raid. I get a little twitchy if I don't get to shoot at something and run an op," Clint says, grinning wide.

"You feeling the same way?"

"We're the only people I know who'd rather have a raid or two than a week at the beach," it's not a joke for all that she laughs. "I could do with it."

"Thor might," Clint says, mulling that over. He doesn't actually know a lot about the Asgard personally and most of what he knows about Thor comes from a file and from careful observation.

"Then again, I think we're all spoiling for a fight after being cooped up on this ship except for maybe Banner. He doesn't like to upset the zen."

Banner's control is something she trusts more now, but there was a time not even that long ago that she would have always been on her guard. "Hard earned zen it seems. You ever go back for yoga?"

"Yeah. I like it, even though I'm not nearly as flexible as you." It's a hard thing to do that, though, considering her dance and combat training. "It helps me clear my mind and focus. It still seems cloudy sometimes from when Loki was in there."

And that's something Clint worries about more than he lets on.

"Do you ever worry that he'll show? Loki?"

"Archers. You hold one position for too long." It's her explanation as to why he doesn't have her flexibility, but she knows her lifetime of training have given her the ability.

"I don't know," she curls her fingers around his. "This place throws some crazy stuff at us."

"I'm probably steadier holding that one position, though," Clint opines. Laying in a sniper's nest has very few advantages but he is very quiet and able to keep still for a long time. He guesses it might come in handy someday.

He tugs her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against her fingers. "Maybe we'll see some action soon, then."

"Probably," she knows her strengths and she knows his, doesn't need bravado or to insist she's better at things she's not. "You'd kill in a game of statues."

That part is teasing, but her eyes soften at the touch of his lips to her skin. Natasha wants him, that's something that's never changed over the years. Now, though, she gets to indulge, to take her time and enjoy in a way she never would have allowed herself at home. "There's another kind of action we could see sooner rather than later."

"I was trending in that direction," Clint agrees. "I just thought it might be nice to spend some time with you clothed so you didn't think I was only after the one thing."

Hardly, and he likes to think they know each other well enough to eliminate it as a possibility but this means something to him and he wants to go about it the right way.

"I know you're not only after one thing. Tell you what," she twists his hand up to her mouth, returning the kiss, "I'll let you stay over."

Clint is a little shocked at that but he guesses that makes sense, considering they've moved from occasional partners to something more exclusive. This place affords them that luxury in a way that no other assignment or situation ever has.

"I'll take you up on it, Tasha. It would be nice to be with you for a whole night."

"Good," she squeezes his hand, thinking this a larger step than saying she loves him. It's not something she would have done at home, not that she can think. It's too much of a connection, trusting him to sleep with her.

"How many times have you trusted someone like this since you were an adult?" It's a loaded question and Clint doesn't expect an answer. He hopes for one, because it's a peek into her psyche that he normally would never get but expecting things from Tasha is probably the easiest way to lose her. She's not like other women.

The questions makes her stop, head cocked as she considers it. She trusts Fury to a degree, but never completely. "One."

"Just me?" Clint asks, wanting that confirmation before he assumes. It's a pretty heavy admission and he's not sure he's prepared for the answer either way. Still, he's not the kind of man to shy away from something even if it is difficult and if Natasha is sharing truths with him, he owes it to her to listen.

There's a long pause before she answers, her hand finding his. It's comforting, that connection, necessary to say what she wants. "Yes. You."

"I think that means more than anything else you could say," Clint admits softly, squeezing her hand.

It's strange, what passes for words of love between them but it's not like they're having to prove it to anyone else. Just to each other.

Tasha stops, tugging him as close as she can, the kiss not for his hand anymore but this time his lips. She doesn't care at the moment if people walk in, she wants to show him that how she feels is real.

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for Natasha

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