Appointments Post

[widows_kiss]

[DATE] | [VOICE / ACTION / WRITTEN]


~ STANDING APPOINTMENTS ~
Daily:
Early morning run
CH5 Avengers Breakfast
Training Session at the Battle Dome

Other:
Friday: 8AM Coffee Date with Pepper

Comments

[widows_kiss]

Until the complaint forms start piling up on his desk.

[She gives a dry laugh, humorless, her arms tightening faintly, just barely noticeable, and she shoots a sharp smile at the floor.]

Something like that. You did warn me that they messed with time here. Especially since you don't remember the invasion. Maybe I should have expected it, but I didn't expect quite that much of a gap.

[She falls silent a moment, still, but when she speaks again, her voice is soft, holding a faint note of wistful regret.]

He didn't recognize me, no. But that's because he's never met me. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time.

[asthehawkflies]

We risk our lives. Coulson fills out forms. Seems like a fair division of labour.

[She looks fragile, even though he knows it's an illusion. Even on her worst day, she's a match for him.

He licks his lips, not sure how to respond to that. The whole situation is fucked up. He can't imagine how he'd feel if Natasha had been brought here from before ever meeting him.]

Christ, I'm sorry sweetheart. I... what do you need me to do?

[widows_kiss]

That's just because you'd prefer the life-risking to filling out paperwork, you crazy idiot.

[She laughs and ducks her head before giving him a lopsided smile, her eyes shadows]

What's to be done? We'll just continue on as we have been. I can't... [She hesitates again, then shakes her head, fingers curling against her knees.]

I don't think I can tell him. I'm not sure I want to. No one should know what lies ahead for them, and in this case especially...

It just came as such a shock. He looked so different. So much... happier. Innocent. I can't... There's nothing I can do, Clint.

[asthehawkflies]

Right, and you'd be perfectly happy playing desk jockey in HQ.

[The stable life does not suit them one bit. They'd both go crazy.

He leans forward, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.]

Can you keep going knowing that he doesn't remember? Are you gonna be able to interact with him knowing it?

[Because honestly, if it would help her, he'd figure out some way of making it right.]

[widows_kiss]

[Her smile holds a hint more humor this time] Coulson would shoot us himself before an hour was out.

[She can't help it, his touch makes her ache and her breath hitches, her eyes sliding closed. She knows what that question means, what lengths he'd go to for her, even without her asking him. he understands, even without her voicing anything.]

He's happy, Clint. I won't be the one that breaks that in him. Not without a very desperate reason.

[That makes it -him- all the more precious, somehow, no matter how painful or bittersweet the rest of it is.]

[asthehawkflies]

He wouldn't. He loves us too much. He might taze us though. Repeatedly.

[He leaned forward, resting their foreheads together, letting out a slow breath.]

I'm sorry, Tasha. I really am.

[widows_kiss]

Or you, at least.

[She lets herself lean against him, her shoulders slumping slightly as her arms finally uncurl from around her knees, letting her feet drop to the floor. She feels tired and spent, from far more than just the day's endeavors. Her eyes are shadowed but she manages to give him a small smile. Genuine. Because he, at least, is something she can smile about, as bruised as she feels otherwise.]

I know you are. It will be fine. It may even be good.

[asthehawkflies]

[That's better. He smiles back, as warm as he ever is because it's her, and they may be battered and bruised, but he knows that they'll catch each other, no matter what.]

But it feels like a knife to the gut all the same.

[widows_kiss]

Is that all? Oh, that's easy then.

[Her lips quirk and she gives a soft laugh, ducking her head.]

Enough of this feelings crap, Barton. Didn't you bring me alcohol?

[It's an obvious change of subjects, but she doesn't want to brood, doesn't want to dwell, doesn't want to get mired down in the possibilities and implications. Not tonight.

Tonight, maybe she can just focus on the fact that James is alive. Maybe more alive than she's ever known him. Maybe... maybe that can be enough.]

[asthehawkflies]

[He lets go of her when she laughs, the tension in him easing a little, but he doesn't pull away just yet.

The change dof subjects makes him smirk, recognising it for what it is, but they're past the point where pushing is going to get anywhere. He holds out the bottle of vodka to her.]

Don't say I never give you anything, Romanoff. It's even the good stuff so you can't give me disapproving looks.

[widows_kiss]

At this point it could be swill and I don't think I'd care.

[Her tone is wry as opens the bottle and doesn't bother getting up to fetch a glass. They don't need one, they've shared bottles before. She doesn't hesitate in taking a deep draw from it, feeling the alcohol burn the back of her throat.]

[asthehawkflies]

Oh well, give it back then. I'll go get you a crappy one and keep that.

[He lets her take it though, grinning when she takes a drink, and follows suit when she passes it back over.]

[widows_kiss]

Not on your life.

[She lets him take a drink before stealing it back, taking another sip and letting her head fall back against the back of the sofa with a quiet sigh.]

Thank you, Clint.

[asthehawkflies]

[He doesn't try to stop her stealing it back, fingers brushing against her hand for a moment.]

Anytime. You know that.

[widows_kiss]

[She smiles and leans against him, sharing the bottle with him and letting her mind and thoughts settle.]

I know.