My Weakness

Christmas, 2012

Clint and Natasha maintained an "open door" policy in their new home: if they were at home, decently dressed and not otherwise occupied, any of the Avengers or their significant others were welcome. They were both uncomfortable with the idea of making and having friends - it wasn't something either of them had ever done before - but each of them had an ulterior motive. Clint had noticed that Fury was pushing them each closer and closer to that two-week limit he had promised, and he suspected Fury was going to "forget" his promise altogether soon and send one or the other of them off somewhere for a couple of months. If that happened and it was him, he didn't want Natasha to be lonely...and he liked that she was growing so comfortable with the other members of their team. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the way Captain America looked at her, though, and he wasn't sure that Cap even realized they were a couple at all. He and Natasha weren't affectionate in front of people, Clint maintained his apartment (and even spent time there sometimes), and he nor Natasha had told anyone but Tony about their relationship. It appeared that he had kept his word, at least when it came to the Cap, because he looked at Nat sometimes with a look in his eyes that reminded Clint of the way he felt in the early days of their partnership, and all Clint knew was that he had to put a stop that without blowing their cover.

Banner, however, looked at Nat the same way that Clint imagined a father should look at a daughter. His own father had been a piece of shit and Natasha couldn't remember her father, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that she responded, albeit somewhat warily, to Banner's brand of halting gentleness and affection. He supposed that after never knowing affection from any older man (save him), she wouldn't know what to expect or how to react. And besides, Bruce had tried to kill her once, so she wasn't exactly wrong to be wary of having him in her home. But Clint was pleased and surprised that she seemed to take to him, at least a little.

Tony even came down to their apartment to spend time with them and the other Avengers rather often, sometimes bringing Pepper. Clint found himself liking Tony in spite of himself; the guy was a wiseass and gave off the douche vibe to a lot of people, but he was genuinely kind and cared about others. Once you were in his inner sanctum of people he truly cared about, he cared and was fiercely protective. He was also merciless in his teasing, and the bird jokes at Clint's expense never seemed to end. He learned very quickly not to mind, especially when Tony started in on Natasha and she laughed.

Natasha further surprised him in her interactions with Tony and Pepper. Of course, she had a history with them and he figured that came into play, but she never seemed to mind Tony's teasing, unless it ventured too close into the "couple" territory. Anything other than that was fair game, as far as she was concerned, and he had never considered Nat as the type of girl who would enjoy being teased - at least by someone she didn't care and feel secure about. He pondered that: could she really feel secure around these people after just a few months? It was very unlike her, so very unlike her. But then running to a chapel in Vegas and marrying him had been the opposite of what he expected, too.

Further evidence of Natasha being unlike herself: her behavior with Pepper Potts. Whenever it was just the Avengers, Natasha was just one of the guys. She laughed with them, played cards and drank beer with them, ate pizza with them, watched football with them. But when Pepper came over with Tony, the Nat and Pepper would sit in another room, sip wine and talk about God knows what. Clint heard them giggle often, and he'd overheard snippets of conversation as he'd walked through to the kitchen for more beer or something. He caught them talking about decorating, planning to go clothes shopping in New York, and to his utter mortification, he and Tony. On that occasion, he tried to lure her into the den and out of that conversation. "Hey, Nat? The game is on. The Hokies are up by fourteen."

"Okay, that's fine. Pepper and I are talking."

"You don't want to come watch?"

"No, Pepper and I are...talking."

And then they giggled. Giggled.  What in the actual fuck.

Clint confronted her about it that night as they were getting ready for bed. "Sweetheart, I have a question."

She walked out of the bathroom in one of his button down shirts and he almost lost his nerve. "Shoot."

Oh well. Might as well. "What the hell was with you and Pepper today? Actually, what's with you and Pepper every time she comes over? It's like you just disappear and some damn alien invades your body. I don't get it. I mean…what the fuck?" He opened his hands and smiled questioningly.

She stared at him, hard, then narrowed her eyes. He knew then that he had fucked up really badly somehow, and tried hard to shrink.

"Have you forgotten somehow that I am not male?"

"No..."

"Has it escaped your attention that I'm a woman?"

"Of course not..."

"Then what the fuck is your problem, asshole?"

He started to see where he had gone wrong. "Look, I didn't..."

"No, you didn't. You've only ever seen me in spy mode or bro mode. You've never seen me as a fucking woman. Christ!"

"What the fuck? That's goddamn unfair, Tasha! How could you say I've never seen you as a woman? I married you, didn't I? Are you saying I married a man and didn't know it?"

Clint slept in his own, lonely apartment that night, and spent a large part of the night trying to come up with a way to apologize... to a woman.

~*~

The next day, a flower delivery showed up for Natasha: three dozen sunrise roses. They were her favorite flower and only one person alive knew that. Her brow knitted, she knew who they were from and what they were for. He wasn't going to get off that easy, the dick. She opened the card anyway and burst out laughing in spite of herself.

”I'm a dick. Still love me? Yes/No”

Dammit, Clint. You can't even let me be pissed for twenty-four hours?

She picked up the phone and texted him: yes you are. yes

She heard his footsteps coming up their stairwell and refused to turn around, but smiled, and screeched as he picked her up by the waist from behind and kissed her neck.

"I love you. I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I really didn't forget you're a woman, though. I just hadn't ever seen you act that way."

"I know."

"Either way, I love you."

She turned around and put her arms around his neck. "I love you, too. Dick."

"I'll be a dick as long as you love me."

She kissed him. "I've got some bad news."

"What's that?"

"Fury's sending me out for three weeks January 30th."

Clint swore. "I knew this was coming."

"I kind of figured, too."

"Where to?"

"Miami. I'm going with Davies. I'm supposed to be the bored trophy wife at the pool while he plays golf. No touching."

"Davies is a good guy, and he's suspected us for a long time. Plus he's an old fart. I'm not worried. I just hate that it's so long." He smiled bracingly.

She kissed his nose. "You wouldn't have to worry even if it were Jude Law." She grinned mischievously. "Maybe Bradley Cooper, though."

"I don't know who that is, but I'm going to hunt him down and take him out."

She grinned. "We have our first Christmas together in two weeks, you know."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm-hm."

"We need to get a tree and stockings."

"I've never had a family at Christmas. I've never really celebrated, I'm not entirely sure how."

"To be honest, it's been so long since I've celebrated, I don't know if I'll remember much about it, either. But I think we'll muddle through."

~*~

Tony had installed Jarvis all over the building so that everyone had access to him if they needed him, but they had the option to turn him off and back on. Clint and Natasha found this a bit creepy and kept him off most of the time, but Natasha found herself turning Jarvis on occasionally when no one was home, just to keep an eye on things for her so she could let her guard down a bit. When they had finished the apartment she had put hardwood floors throughout the remainder of the empty floor and partitioned it off into one large room. She put a few pieces of exercise equipment in there and mirrors along two walls, so she went in there to work out often, with Jarvis watching her back. On this particular day, a couple of days before Christmas, she was getting ready for her mission in a month, working out a bit harder than usual when Jarvis interrupted her. "Ms. Romanov, Captain Rogers is knocking at your door."

"Thank you, Jarvis." She walked to the door of her makeshift gym and called down the hallway to her apartment door. "Hey, Cap! I'm in here!", waving to get his attention.

He spotted her, waved back and started her way, coming into the gym. "Wow, this is nice."

"Thanks, I kinda like it. What's up?"

"Well," he shifted his feet and looked around the room uncomfortably. “I know this is kinda weird. But, well, see, the thing is...when I went into the water in '45, there was this dame - I mean girl - and she and I...well, we kind of...I mean...jeez."

"You ok there, Cap?"

"Yeah, I'm not good at this. Talking to girls.” He took a deep breath. "We had a date, she and I. I was going to take her dancing. But, see...," he sighed, “I crashed the plane, and I never made it."

Natasha just looked at him. "That's really sad, Cap, and I'm sorry you lost your girl, but I don't understand why you're telling me about it."

"Well, it turns out she's alive. She's in a retirement home in DC. I want to go see her, and if she's able...I want to give her the dance I owe her."

Natasha's eyes almost got misty, but she tamped it down. "That's so sweet."

"...But I still don't know how to dance."

Natasha was back to being confused. "You lost me again."

"Well, I've been told that you used to be a dancer."

She looked at him, blankly. "That was ballet, and a long time ago."

"I just need to know the basics. Please."

"I don't know, Cap. I wasn't trained in the jitterbug."

He chuckled. "The jitterbug went out of style when I was a kid. Besides, she's ninety-four years old, she's not going to be able to withstand anything that's not gentle." She looked doubtful. "Please. It would mean so much to have that dance before…you know…before she's gone."

Shit. How could she deny that?

"Okay, what's a slow song from about that time?"

He thought for a second. "Always In My Heart. I think that would be most special."

"Jarvis, can you find that?," asked Natasha.

"By Mr. Jimmy Dorsey?"

"That's the one," said Steve.

The music started and Natasha said, "Okay, put out your left hand and take my right hand. Then put your right hand around my waist."

He did as instructed, his arm ramrod straight, Natasha having to bend sideways to reach his hand. "Hey." She swatted his shoulder. "Relax."

"Sorry, ma'am."

"And quit it with the 'ma'am' stuff. I'm Natasha. Or Nat. But not ma'am. Now, relax your arms." He did, and she stepped closer. He tensed up. "I swear to God, Rogers, I'm not going to bite you. Hold me like you would your 'dame'."

He looked surprised, then chuckled. "Okay, I'll try. But I've never done this before, remember?"

"Go on what you saw everyone else do. And instinct."

He wrapped his arm a little further around her waist and pulled her close - but not too close - and pulled their hands in closer. "Is that better?"

"Yes. I imagine you'd be holding her closer, but this will do." She smiled. "The simplest thing I can tell you is just to sway and move your feet a little. The trick to slow dancing is that you're supposed to be so caught up in your partner that you're not paying attention to what your feet are doing, but if you're afraid that she's frail enough that you'll hurt her, we'll practice a bit."

He nodded and swallowed.

"So just listen to the music and sway gently. Very gently." He did. "Okay, now shift your feet just a little. You don't even have to really lift them off the ground, just enough to slide them a couple of inches every time you sway. Good! Now, turn a little."

He was following directions well, not looking at his feet too much, but slow dancing well enough to dance with an elderly lady and make both of their dreams come true.

"Okay, Cap, I want you to hold me the exact same way you plan on holding her."

"I don't know..."

"It's fine. I won't take it personal. I just want to make sure you won't hurt her."

Natasha was surprised when Steve gathered her close, pulling her arm in and resting his chin on her head. He closed his eyes and thought of his last conversation with Peggy...the tears in her voice, the fear he felt and the grief he had felt that now he'd finally found someone, he'd never see her again. It had just been a year and a half ago for him, the wounds were still fresh. He could still smell the freesia in her hair, he could still hear her voice and taste her kiss when she sent him off on the Valkyrie. He wondered how he would react when he saw her, old and frail, and he knew it wouldn't matter. He wondered if she would remember him at all, and tears pricked his eyes.

"I gotta go. Thank you for teaching me to dance, I owe you one." He hurried away, and Natasha turned to watch him, bemused, looking to the doorway just in time to see Clint in the doorway with Bruce. Clint looked thunderous.