Chapter 4 - The Sheep
Clint had pinned Natasha in a dim stairwell in the back corner of the abandoned building they were supposed to be sweeping. Hell, they'd swept this same building four times tonight, and nothing seemed any different. They had their hands on each other's hips, Natasha's back was against the wall, and they were grinding and making out like horny teenagers. Clint was hard as anything, straining against his pants, and Natasha was not helping matters the way she was moving. He hadn't known exactly just how flexible she was.
She slid one hand down off his hip to cup him, and Clint hissed through his teeth and threw his head back. When he looked back down at her, Nat's pupils had gone slightly red. He dipped his head down a little further and nipped at her collarbone. She ran an eager hand up his spine and into his hair with a whine, where she twisted her fingers into it and shifted his mouth back to hers. He grinned against her mouth, sliding his hands towards her center to work on the buckle at her waist. He felt her grin back when she realized what he was doing.
Slowly, Clint slid to his knees as he tugged her pants down to her ankles. He stayed there, staring up at her glowing eyes and pale skin as she stepped one leg out of her clothing. She hooked her free left leg over his shoulder and between his wings and tugged him in closer. Clint closed his eyes and would have said a prayer if he believed in that anymore. He ran a reverent hand up her standing thigh, nose scenting her arousal as he allowed himself to be brought even closer to his new altar of worship.
"Sire does that to her other sheep sometimes. They seem to like it." The small voice behind Clint nearly made him jump out of his feathers. The only thing that kept him pinned was the sudden rigidity of the muscles in the leg Nat had thrown over him. He craned his neck around to see whom that small voice belonged to-
Shit. She couldn't be more than sixteen. She was pale, almost as pale as Natasha, and absolutely covered in bite marks. Which both he and Nat could see because she was also stark naked.
Clint gently moved Natasha's leg from his shoulder, then stood and spread his wings slightly to give her some privacy as she stepped back into her pants. He looked at the tiny blonde before him, not like he'd done with Natasha, but like he'd done with dozens of other young people since he'd stuck his wing in with the Avengers. Treating them like a person for what was possibly the first time in years.
"Can you tell me your name? Or at least something to call you?" He tried to keep his body posture unthreatening. This girl was one good scare away from running, and he didn't want to have to chase her.
"Sire calls me breakfast, ever since her last breakfast died. But I used to be called Cassie."
"Well, Cassie, we've got a place around here where you can get warm and get some clothes on, if you'd like." The girl tensed and moved backwards slightly. Clint lowered his voice and spoke to Natasha, never taking his eyes off Cassie. "Hey Nat, would you go let Steve know I may be a minute? Slowly, please?"
Clint held out a steady hand to the girl as he heard Natasha's footsteps recede at a human pace, attempting to ask for hers, and managed not to jump when Cassie snatched his arm in her thin hands. She ran trembling fingers over the scars on his elbow where even multiple sessions with Wanda couldn't completely erase the bite marks Loki had given him. She looked up at him, eyes wide and breath shaking.
Clint felt a small, sad smile tug one corner of his mouth up. "I understand." Was all he said.
"Was that your sire, the woman? You give orders to your sire?"
Clint shook his head and gently placed his hand over the girl's. "There are no sires here. She's a friend. The one that did this-" Clint felt his jaw clench involuntarily. "Let's just say he's got his penance coming."
Cassie nodded, and Clint tipped the corner of his mouth up at her. "You ever been flying, Cassie?" She shook her head in response. "Would you like to? It's the quickest way back to where my friends are."
She seemed to ponder this for a moment, and then slowly nodded her head. Silence wasn't unusual for the kids he found, so Clint nodded back to her. "I'm going to have to carry you. Is it okay if I touch you?"
She seemed shocked that he asked, and it reminded Clint of how he'd been when Natasha had first gotten him out of Loki's compound. Gently, he placed an arm around her back, then bent slightly and tucked his other under her knees. Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Good. You just hold on, ok? I'll go slow, but I don't want you to fall."
She buried her face in his neck as she nodded once more. Clint bent his knees a little further and then jumped as he spread his wings, a few quick downward sweeps launching him into the air.
Natasha watched him from a distance, hanging up her call to Rogers. They'd get the girl warm and fed and comfortable, then give her some head shrinking that Natasha may or may not be able to help with.
For the first time in decades, she wished that vampires could carry a child. But a dead body was unable to bring life, and rendered all vampires sterile. But seeing how tender Clint was with this poor girl, she almost wondered what he'd be like with a child of his own.
Their own.
Natasha dropped that thought with a rapid shake of her head and started out for the base with a snort. Maybe one day she and Clint would actually get a chance to finish something they started, but not tonight.