Chapter Text
Objectively, what happened was this: Natasha fell asleep during movie night at Avengers Tower. She didn’t react well to being woken up afterwards.
Even if that was simplifying it. And she got that most people didn’t have a survival instinct so ingrained that even unconscious it reacted with bared teeth. She really did.
But the people in the room with her weren’t like most people. She wouldn’t have fallen asleep if they were. Several had seen war. All of them had fought to survive at some point. Yet she woke to a hushed silence where Stark was putting himself between her and Pepper. And Pepper actually let him. Natasha didn’t want to look back at where Banner had been sitting, but she assumed he was still in control of himself. Hulk would have dealt with her already if he wasn't.
At least Rogers had stayed calm. Despite the knee Natasha had him pinned to the floor with and the knife at his throat, his pulse was steady and even.
With glacial-slowness to not startle anyone, she pulled the knife back and switched her grip on it, laying it flat on the palm of her hand. Non-threatening. Not disappearing it into her clothes. Danger had passed, she all but shouted at them.
Clint came to her rescue, saying, “So, I think we can all agree that next time we either go for less boring films or more caffeine. Preferably both.”
Natasha sheathed her knife, stood, and held out her hand to Rogers.
He took her outstretched hand and smiled. It didn’t look happy. “No harm done.” He stood and didn’t rub the red line on his neck. “I’m sorry I startled you, Natasha,” he said and damn him if he didn’t sound like he meant every word of it.
Autopilot came to her rescue. Whatever answer she gave him, it made him smile again and nod.
She left directly after. Not because she was embarrassed at her reaction, quite the opposite. Despite what the others thought, it really was a matter of perspective. Her reacting badly to being woken up wasn’t important; that was just a fact of life. It was that she had dozed off at all. While surrounded by people. Most of whom she hadn’t known a year ago.
Clint caught up with her before she reached the elevator and slipped in behind her with a smug smile. “Just a heads up. She's gonna tease you about this for years.”
“Don't tell her, then.” Her voice was even despite the warmth curling in her stomach.
“You know that's not happening. Can't keep secrets from her.”
When he didn't react to her stare she said, “You see the dichotomy in that, right?”
He shrugged, completely unfazed. “It feels nice, though, doesn't it? Trusting people.”
“It's like you don't know me at all.”
He shrugged again, ignoring the flatness of her voice.
Natasha didn't fidget or pull out her phone to check for messages, but only because doing so would prove his point. Despite her unwillingness to admit it outright, he was right: it did feel nice. Even as it scared the shit out of her, it felt good to be around people she trusted enough to lower her guard.
“Does this mean you're going to move in?” Clint asked, breaking her silent reverie.
She snorted in response.
“You have to admit, Avengers Tower is a pretty swanky address to put on your business card.”
“I don't think spies are supposed to leave business cards. It goes against the whole spy thing.”
Clint bumped her with his hip when the elevator doors opened and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they left the elevator. “Still,” he said, and she didn’t have the heart to argue.
The receptionist’s eyes went wide when she caught sight of the two of them, and Natasha slipped her arm around Clint’s waist, like she hadn’t noticed it.
“This is doing wonders for my reputation,” he said after they had exited the building.
“Yeah, Laura’s a lucky girl,” she said dryly, like it wasn’t her who’d come up with the idea in the first place. Nobody would suspect the guy sleeping with the Black Widow to have a secret family.
“Well, she has you as a friend.”
“And now you’re getting mushy.” Natasha disentangled herself from Clint and began to walk away from him, towards where her car was parked a few blocks away. She looked back over her shoulder at him before she crossed the street and said, “Say hi to her and the kids when you get back home.”
“Laura wants to know when you’re stopping by for dinner again.”
“Soon.”
“How soon?”
“Soon,” she repeated, loudly enough to be heard over the traffic.
“I’m making Lila call you if you don’t set a date by tomorrow at the latest.”
Like that was a bad thing. Like Natasha wouldn’t gladly listen to the little girl rambling on for hours. But Natasha didn’t answer, didn’t even look back at Clint, she just waved half-heartedly at him and wondered, not for the first time, what she had done to deserve people like them in her life.
After the dust settled, after SHIELD fell, after Avengers Tower became the New Avengers Facility, and the Avengers themselves had their ranks diminish and swell, movie night remained. And somehow, so did the memory of her somewhat extreme reaction to being woken up.
So when Natasha stirred from having fallen asleep for the second time during movie night, the first thing she heard was Tony whisper-shouting, “No, no, no, don’t wake her,” from across the room.
That wasn’t what had woken her, but she was thankful for the distraction all the same. Because of it, the pair of blue eyes in front of her were focused on Tony instead of her, leaving her time recover from the shock of waking up to the Winter Soldier kneeling in front of her. What had woken her was a warm hand resting lightly on her bent knee. Barely there, but it still sent warm tendrils through her body. She calmed her features, and even managed to quirk a smile as Barnes withdrew the hand and stood.
“You need be more careful, Tin Man. The last time Cap tried to wake her up, she almost gutted him,” Tony said.
“Slit his throat.” Natasha’s voice was thick from sleeping, unwilling to corporate with her. “If you're going to out me like that, you need to keep the facts straight. My knife wasn’t anywhere near his stomach.”
When she looked back at Barnes, he had switched on his Kind and Approachable (tm) smile. “Can't say that I blame you,” he said. “Been there a few times myself. He's a slippery fucker to pin down.”
The statement was so unexpected a startled laugh escaped her, and the warmth of his smile reached his eyes for a second, then he turned away and moved towards the door.
With him out of the way Natasha breathed a little easier and with the lowered adrenaline, felt every twinge of her protesting body as she stretched. Sleeping in the otherwise comfortable chair had been a bad idea.
For a brief, insane moment she contemplated sleeping in her quarters at the New Avengers Facility. Quarters furnished with the things she had picked out in a catalogue when her quarters had been a floor of the Avengers Tower and hadn’t thought about since. Had only been near the few times a year she decided to stay the night because she was too tired to make the trip home.
It was, of course, ridiculous. And not just because she abhorred the idea of living at an address as widely known as the Facility. She couldn’t stay while Barnes had his own quarters so close by. She was glad he had chosen to join them and live at the Facility. He deserved a spot among the good guys. He deserved to have finally found a place he felt safe enough to stay still and people who trusted him enough to use those finely-honed skills of his. But seeing him on a daily basis was an unwelcome reminder of their past, and one that neither needed. He was better off as he was, with no knowledge of it.
She collected her things, said her goodbyes, and left.