Clint
Clint Barton was something else. Natasha had known this for some time. Ever since he had made a different call and not ended her life with his bow and arrow, she knew there was something different about him.
Master assassin, marksman... and father. When he had introduced her to his family she hadn’t known what to think at first. Laura welcomed her with open arms, not the sort of welcome she was used to at all. Then she met little Cooper. The little boy had liked her red hair and asked if he could touch it. Natasha felt something come over her in that instant, kneeled down and held out a lock of her hair for him. He had toddled forward and touched it squeaking with glee. And thus Auntie Nat was born.
Clint Barton preferred to travel by air vent. Rarely would you see him in the elevator. It had happened at SHIELD (much to the disdain of his superiors, though Coulson eventually accepted this particular trait) and now it was happening in the tower. Natasha was used to seeing his head pop out of different vents in different rooms at any time of the day. Her teammates were not so used to it, it proved to be quite humorous at times. Tony had tried to get JARVIS to track Clint’s path in the vents, but to no avail.
So yeah, Clint Barton was a special character. And there were times he did his best to make sure other people knew it.
This was not one of those times.
He hadn’t checked in yet, which wasn’t completely unusual for him. He tended to be a bit tardy for check-ins at times. But it was a reaching a point that Natasha had begun to worry. She hated worrying.
He had gone to surveil their latest target, a female terrorist in Ukraine, her name Daria Boyko. Intel said she was responsible for trafficking weapons—but not just any weapons. Somehow Boyko had gotten her hands on alien tech, and was selling to the highest bidder. So Natasha had followed Clint to Kiev, backing him up; usually it would be the other way around (after all Clint did see better from a distance) but their target was a woman who was interested in men so Clint had donned his best suit and had gone hunting (so to speak). But then he hadn’t checked in. So Natasha didn’t have a choice.
She was damn lucky she was able to find a small black cocktail dress so she could fit in with the crowd. A sly smile and a little flirting got her past security. First she scouted the location, it was a small palace and all the occupants were rich, but the heavy security personnel were easily spotted. At first she didn’t stand out, taking a glass of champagne and talking to the men who had had one too many and were attracted by her beauty. As soon as she saw one of the security men place a finger to his comm and make his way out of the side door she moved. She had a side piece hidden on a thigh holster and grabbed it as she joined him in the side hallway. Natasha jabbed the gun under his ribs, and spoke to him in Ukrainian, “Take me to the American.”
The man man placed his hands up and Natasha took his weapons, including a pair of car keys. He led her to an alley outside and a town car.
“We have to drive there.” He said, in Ukrainian. She opened the driver’s door, then the back door. She gestured for him to get behind the wheel which he did, she slid in the back the gun to his neck.
“Let’s go.” She ordered.
—
Natasha knew this was a trap. The grunt was being too cooperative and helpful for it not to be. But she didn’t care.
The drive was not long. They had pulled up next to a desecrated looking building, the brick was breaking and windows had been smashed. She got out of the car, then pulled out the driver.
“Lead on.” She ordered.
He walked into the building, his hands held up in surrender. As they walked further into the building Natasha could hear voices, and one of them she recognized. She would recognize that voice anywhere.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” She whispered harshly to the grunt.
“I already have.” He said.
He swung around grabbing the gun in her hands, his fingers desperately reaching for the trigger. She fought against him, trying to pull the gun back towards her and out of his grasp. He screamed, the voices in the building stopped. She cursed, her hand reaching to cover his mouth allowing him to get to the trigger and pulling it the gun going off.
Natasha cursed herself, how could she have been so stupid? She had let her thoughts and judgement be clouded—thinking about Clint—foolish. Damn, fool. Her hand flew away from the grunt’s mouth and reach back for the gun wrenching it from his hands. She should just shoot him; do it. Do it now!
The gun collided with his temple, sending him to the ground. She looked down at it, her hand was no where near the trigger. Why hadn’t she shot him? It was as if time had frozen, when she finally looked up she saw she was surrounded. Boyko stood ahead a few feet away, her eyes the faintest shade of blue, electricity seemed to crackle in her irises. A quick look around told Natasha Boyko’s henchmen had the same affliction.
“Take her weapons”. Boyko ordered. Natasha didn’t fight back, the henchmen took her weapons and Natasha merely glared at the woman. Once Boyko was sastisfied she jerked her head, Natasha felt hands grab her around the wrists and pulled behind her back as they walked her to a room ahead.
Natasha saw Clint hanging in the middle of the room; a chain was wrapped around his wrists and secured to a beam above. At first glance she could see he didn’t look too good. His suit jacket and bow tie lay on the ground beside him. Blood dropped from a wound on his head and had fallen onto his dress shirt. Bruises seemed to litter his body parts that she could see. There was a hitch in his breathing that told her he probably had a broken rib or two. But the bastard was still smiling.
“Nat!” He yelled. “Welcome to the party. Look!” His finger pointed at Boyko and her henchmen. “They have glowy eyes! Isn’t that cool?!”
What. The actual. Fuck.
“What did you give him?” Natasha demanded in Ukrainian to Boyko.
“Aw c’mon...” Clint whined, “say it in a language we can all understand! It’s not fair to dis-include people. Didn’t you learn that in grade school?”
Natasha turned to him flabbergasted, “You speak Ukrainian.” She said in English.
It was Clint’s turn to look shocked. “I do?”
“That’s alright,” Boyko said in English. “Let’s make it easier for the archer yes?” She smiled slyly. “We’ve given him something to make him a bit more cooperative. I understand he has had first hand experience with this alien technology.”
Natasha felt hatred burn in her gut. She would not spare any mercy for this woman. Behind her Clint had begun to sing a song. Backstreet Boys?
“I seem to have touched a nerve.” Boyko continued as she had seen Natasha’s reaction, “You too have seen this wondrous technology too have you not? It truly is... eye opening.”
“You messing with things you don’t understand.” Natasha said, a dangerous tone in her voice. “You should quit while your ahead.
Boyko and her henchmen laughed darkly. “On the contrary,” Boyko said, walking forward to Natasha. “I do believe we’re just getting started.”
“I’m doing this tonight yeah, probably gonna start a fight yeah—“
Enough was enough. Natasha kicked out, her feet landing straight in Boyko’s gut sending her to the ground. Shocking the henchmen, their grip loosened just a bit and Natasha front flipped sending them crashing to the ground forcing them to let go of her flipping forward as well but landing on their back whereas Natasha landed in a crouch.
“I know this can’t be right hey baby c’mon.”
Boyko has reared up, arm moving back the swinging forward for a strike. Natasha easily dodged the strike as Boyko over compensated and went towards the floor.
“I loved you endlessly, mmm, when you weren’t there for me! So now it’s time to leave and make it alone—“
Natasha had gone to one of the fallen henchmen and grabbed a gun from his holster. After a quick search she also found one of her Widow Bites and special knives; the one that Stark has designed and could cut through chain.
“Can you fight?!” She called to Barton.
“You talkin’ to me?” He called back in Godfather style. He laughed at his own own joke. Natasha wasn’t in the mood,
“CAN YOU FIGHT?”
“Yeah, yeah... I’m still singing though.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less...”. She muttered. A perfect throw had cut him down, he landed impressively in a fighting stance shaking the chains from his wrists.
“I know that I can’t take no more, it ain’t no lie.” Clint choked up the chain so it was shorter in his grip. More henchmen were approaching him. He swung and hit them striking them down. “I want to see you out that door baby bye bye bye!”
Boyko was back on her feet, her blue irises shining with fury. She ran at Natasha tackling her to the ground.
“That is not. Very. Nice.” Clint said, he seemed flabbergasted at Boyko’s actions. He swung the chain down at Boyko striking her in the back and head. Natasha saw the blue flicker in her eyes, just for a moment. She grabbed the woman’s head and slammed it to the ground knocking her out. Looking out Clint was still singing, taking out the henchmen, they were all down now.
“Clint!” He turned nearly taking her out with the chain.
“Whoopsie!” He chuckled, putting down the chain. “My bad.” He dropped the chain and put his hands up in surrender. “Don’t tell Laura!”
Natasha smiled slightly, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” She said. She walked forward, taking a closer look at him. He was still humming. “What was that, Backstreet Boys?”
He looked offended, “How dare you.” He said. She put his arm around her neck to support him. “That was *NSYNC. Have I taught you nothing?”
They walked out of the building. “Sorry I mixed them up.” She said. “I was focused on other priorities.”
“Well you need to get your priorities straight.” He muttered.
“A simple thank-you would suffice.”