Chapter 2
Natasha wasn't one to let silences linger. They got uncomfortable and awkward and she didn't have time for that.
Fortunately, before she had to break the silence, there was a knock at the door and she glanced up just in time to see V push the door open and walk in. He was tall, lean, and probably the strangest person she had ever met. With green hair and bright red glasses you tended to expect more than you got. Natasha tended to punch the people who were disappointed with V, although neither of them talked about it.
Natasha gave him a nod of acknowledgement as he walked past her, but his focus was solely on Wanda. Which, really, she couldn't blame him for. Who knows what would have happened if Natasha hadn't showed up.
She watched as V stopped next to Wanda's booth, sliding into the seat across from her and taking her hands in his own. The look on his face was so tender and clearly reserved only for Wanda that Natasha had to look away. Unfortunately that brought her gaze back to blondie, who was staring at her so intensely she had to bite back the urge to smack him.
Unwilling to let silence settle over them, Natasha arched an eyebrow at him. "How's the coffee?"
Yeah, no. She wasn't gonna bring up the soulmate thing. Talking about coffee was much safer.
He barely paused at the subject change. Instead, he glanced down at the now empty cup in front of him, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "It was good. Really good."
Natasha smiled. She was a sucker for compliments on her coffee. Although she somehow had a feeling this guy would drink any coffee handed to him, even if it had poison in it.
Maybe she tucked that information away for later. Maybe she didn't.
"Would you like some more?"
He didn't even hesitate to say yes. Looks like she was right on the nose about him and coffee.
It didn't take long to make a pot of coffee, which she just sat down on the table in front of him. Somehow, she just knew he would drink the whole thing. And now the "How much coffee is too much" note was beginning to make sense. She just really hoped he didn't give any to his dog.
She studied him as she slid back into her seat. He was cute, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. His blonde hair fell over his eyes, which were so blue Natasha didn't think it was a real color. He was pretty tan, so he probably had some kind of job outdoors; she'd bet her favorite coffee that it had something to do with dogs.
"So," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "I'm Clint."
She stared at him for a long moment before she sat back and crossed her arms. "Natasha."
His smile was infectious, annoyingly so. It took all of her willpower not to smile back at him as he leaned forward, forearms braced on the table.
Natasha had always had a "do not approach" bubble around her, but apparently this guy - Clint, she had to remind herself - wasn't phased by it. Which was really annoying, seeing as Natasha hated everyone.
"Your coffee is pretty good, Natasha," He was saying, idly tapping his fingers on the counter. "Do you allow dogs in here? 'Cause you should."
Had he left his dog outside just because he wasn't clear on the rules in her café? She'd only known him for five minutes and she could already tell that was out of character for the guy. He kind of reminded her of one of her three friends, T'Challa. He was annoyingly obsessed with cats. Maybe she should invite him over; it might get Clint off her back, at least.
Before she could do more than consider it, her phone buzzed with a text. Tuning out Clint's rambling, she pulled her phone out and opened the message.
From: Cat Prince
On my way. <3
Okay then. Weird.
To: Cat Prince
Sure you're not psychic?
She glanced up at Clint, who was still grinning like an idiot, but was now doing something on his phone instead of trying to make conversation with her.
To: Cat Prince
...do you know a Clint? Blonde, kinda cute, total fucking dork.
From: Cat Prince
;)
Holy fucking shit. She was going to kill someone before the end of the day. Either Clint or T'Challa, maybe even both of them.
It didn't take long for T'Challa to show up at the door, his boyfriend Sam in tow.
Natasha was tempted to lock it and maybe kick Clint out while she was at it.
Before she could get up the door was closing behind them, an unusually wide grin on T'Challa's face. She really wanted to punch him and he hadn't even spoken yet.
Instead of saying anything to her he walked right past her and stopped next to Wanda's booth. He smiled kindly at her and listened to her as she spoke.
Which, rude. Who was his best friend?
Sam grinned as he practically sat on top of Natasha, ignoring her annoyed grumbles as he forced her to move over. "Aw, c'mon red." She shoved his face away with a hand, wishing he would shut up but knowing it was a lost cause. "You know you love me."
Moving so her back was against the wall and her legs thrown over his lap, she gave him a look of utter indifference. "That's debatable."
He jerked back with a hurt look on his, one hand on his chest. "How dare you, Natasha Romanov? I have been betrayed."
"Yeah, you've been betrayed," She muttered. "I'm such a terrible person."
"Thank you!" Sam nearly smacked Clint in the face, sweeping his arms out in a large gesture. Somehow Natasha couldn’t find it in herself to tell Sam to knock it off. "Finally you admit your true nature."
"You do know that I will take that coffee pot and pour that very hot coffee all over you, don't you?"
Before Sam could reply - and by the outrageously shocked look on his face he was going to - Clint had wrapped his arms around the coffee pot and pulled it closer to himself. "No. I need this to live."
Rolling her eyes so bad she was surprised it didn't hurt, Natasha turned her gaze to the blonde man. "Planning to marry it?"
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Maybe I am. Gonna stop me?"
"No. By all means, marry the coffee pot." She had to suppress a snort at what she said next. "Who am I to deny true love?"
Sam laughed so loudly Natasha flinched and almost hit him on instinct alone. "This coming from the girl who thinks 'soulmates' is a made up concept?"
Seriously. Did he want to get punched?
Turning back to Sam, she gave him a scorching look. "First of all, call me 'girl' again and lose a hand. I don't care how cute you think you are, I will take you down." Ignoring the shocked angle of his eyebrows, she continued. "Secondly, it's not that I don't believe in soulmates -"
"Nat, you know lying is wrong."
Without turning her head, she shot back, "Shut the fuck up, T'Challa."
Which, okay, maybe they didn't know her soulmate - one of her soulmates. Ugh - was sitting right there, but they didn't need to tell a stranger anything about her either. Christ, did they even know her at all?
But if Clint wasn't going to say anything about it, Natasha sure as hell wasn't going to.
Who needed soulmates anyways?