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When you spend two months in Azkaban, you won't care where you live after that. Natasha had only been there for two months for taking the wrong job, but her hole of an apartment in white chapel was a place compared to a cell in Azkaban. In her short time there she had seen men go mad, giving up the will to live, she had seen the work of the Dementors kiss as well.
she had been out a week and acquired a large stash of chocolate, still feeling the chill in her bones. She didn't show it outwardly though, she just looked like business as usual to the world. Since returning to the real world she had called Ivan, telling him she took some trip back to the motherland and forgot to tell him. She was still good at lying to others at least. Lying to herself was another matter though. Two months is a lot of time to think of past mistakes you make in the twenty-four years of life she had. She always regretted how she cut ties with everyone she grew up with.
She had become jaded and cold towards the end of her time at school, but could still keep Clint as a friend somehow. They just knew each other too well to fall out of favor with each other. Once school was over though, they didn't see each other everyday like they used to, which happens when you leave school and get jobs. Natasha ended up getting some jobs that weren't on the legal side and never told Clint about them. Eventually though she packed up and left with a simple see you later note and continued down the path of wrong choices. Those were the thoughts that haunted her most in Azkaban, then the killings she committed that the ministry hadn't realized she committed. She was lucky that time.
Natasha returned from the market one night and knew something was off before she entered her small apartment. It wasn't that her protection charms went off, it was that Clint Barton was leaning against her door, waiting for her with his wand out, just in case. "How did you find out?"
Clint pushed himself off the door and took a step back to let her get near enough to open the door, his face was unreadable to her but she decided it was because it had been years since they spoke. He had grown in seven years, his shoulders were wider, and his arms looked stronger. He was a man now and not the seventeen year old boy she would kiss in the library when she knew no one was around. "Your file told me."
She didn't acknowledge that he could only have done that if he worked at the Ministry, and he didn't bother to explain it since they both usually figured each other out. Natasha had her keys out already and unlocked the door. She kept a slower than normal pace, just in case he was jumpy about being around her now. With the door unlocked, she walked in and dropped her groceries on the floor, freeing up her hand to pull out her wand. As she turned to face Clint with it she saw him in full draw with a bow he had kept invisible with magic. "You obviously knew more than what's in my file since you came prepared." Natasha smirked at him as she lowered her wand from his chest and raised her hands in the air.
Clint gave her a sarcastic smirk while relaxing his stance and lowering his bow as well. "I'm good at my job." He placed the bow on a side table near the door, kicking it closed at the same time with his boot heel. Clint flicked on a light switch and as his eyes adjusted he saw Natasha holding the handle of a gun towards him. He signed inwardly and took it to place with his bow.
Natasha lowered her other hand and walked to her small couch that doubled as her current bed. It was as moldy as the apartment, if you could call it an apartment. It was the size of a shoe box that little girls would use as a doll house substitute for their Barbie. "Been waiting long?"
He didn't bother to sit down yet, he paced the small area, going through things he found lying around. "Just six of so years Romanoff." He opened the fridge and looked around for something to drink. "All you have is beer? Did you forget that you're Russian as well as how to keep in touch?"
She winced internally, but kept an emotionless mask on her face as he came back towards the couch. 'Romanoff.' She didn't expect as Nat or 'Tasha, she thought she might have gotten Natasha though. "You're lucky that you even got that see you later note." Natasha spat back at him.
"There was a pool on if you'd turn up dead or in jail. I got a new archery set, so thanks for not dying yet." Clint sat on the edge of the sofa with a beer in his hands and just looked forward at the wall.
Her mask broke a bit, just enough to smile faintly at the thought of a betting pool on her current life. "No one thought to bet on happily married with a kid on the way?"
He cracked open the beer and gave a chuckled before taking sniff of it. She was his best friend, but he wouldn't say that he entirely trusted her at the moment. "Miss love is for children? I don't think anyone is that stupid."
"I still stand by that." Natasha leaned over and grabbed the beer from his hand. She took a swig of beer, giving him a questioning look as she swallowed it down. "The trap is in the window, not the food."
she had been out a week and acquired a large stash of chocolate, still feeling the chill in her bones. She didn't show it outwardly though, she just looked like business as usual to the world. Since returning to the real world she had called Ivan, telling him she took some trip back to the motherland and forgot to tell him. She was still good at lying to others at least. Lying to herself was another matter though. Two months is a lot of time to think of past mistakes you make in the twenty-four years of life she had. She always regretted how she cut ties with everyone she grew up with.
She had become jaded and cold towards the end of her time at school, but could still keep Clint as a friend somehow. They just knew each other too well to fall out of favor with each other. Once school was over though, they didn't see each other everyday like they used to, which happens when you leave school and get jobs. Natasha ended up getting some jobs that weren't on the legal side and never told Clint about them. Eventually though she packed up and left with a simple see you later note and continued down the path of wrong choices. Those were the thoughts that haunted her most in Azkaban, then the killings she committed that the ministry hadn't realized she committed. She was lucky that time.
Natasha returned from the market one night and knew something was off before she entered her small apartment. It wasn't that her protection charms went off, it was that Clint Barton was leaning against her door, waiting for her with his wand out, just in case. "How did you find out?"
Clint pushed himself off the door and took a step back to let her get near enough to open the door, his face was unreadable to her but she decided it was because it had been years since they spoke. He had grown in seven years, his shoulders were wider, and his arms looked stronger. He was a man now and not the seventeen year old boy she would kiss in the library when she knew no one was around. "Your file told me."
She didn't acknowledge that he could only have done that if he worked at the Ministry, and he didn't bother to explain it since they both usually figured each other out. Natasha had her keys out already and unlocked the door. She kept a slower than normal pace, just in case he was jumpy about being around her now. With the door unlocked, she walked in and dropped her groceries on the floor, freeing up her hand to pull out her wand. As she turned to face Clint with it she saw him in full draw with a bow he had kept invisible with magic. "You obviously knew more than what's in my file since you came prepared." Natasha smirked at him as she lowered her wand from his chest and raised her hands in the air.
Clint gave her a sarcastic smirk while relaxing his stance and lowering his bow as well. "I'm good at my job." He placed the bow on a side table near the door, kicking it closed at the same time with his boot heel. Clint flicked on a light switch and as his eyes adjusted he saw Natasha holding the handle of a gun towards him. He signed inwardly and took it to place with his bow.
Natasha lowered her other hand and walked to her small couch that doubled as her current bed. It was as moldy as the apartment, if you could call it an apartment. It was the size of a shoe box that little girls would use as a doll house substitute for their Barbie. "Been waiting long?"
He didn't bother to sit down yet, he paced the small area, going through things he found lying around. "Just six of so years Romanoff." He opened the fridge and looked around for something to drink. "All you have is beer? Did you forget that you're Russian as well as how to keep in touch?"
She winced internally, but kept an emotionless mask on her face as he came back towards the couch. 'Romanoff.' She didn't expect as Nat or 'Tasha, she thought she might have gotten Natasha though. "You're lucky that you even got that see you later note." Natasha spat back at him.
"There was a pool on if you'd turn up dead or in jail. I got a new archery set, so thanks for not dying yet." Clint sat on the edge of the sofa with a beer in his hands and just looked forward at the wall.
Her mask broke a bit, just enough to smile faintly at the thought of a betting pool on her current life. "No one thought to bet on happily married with a kid on the way?"
He cracked open the beer and gave a chuckled before taking sniff of it. She was his best friend, but he wouldn't say that he entirely trusted her at the moment. "Miss love is for children? I don't think anyone is that stupid."
"I still stand by that." Natasha leaned over and grabbed the beer from his hand. She took a swig of beer, giving him a questioning look as she swallowed it down. "The trap is in the window, not the food."
