A/N: Welp.
Natasha's Valentine's Day
It was Valentine's Day in the Avengers Tower. Tony was having a romantic dinner on his floor with Pepper. Thor was in New Mexico to celebrate with Jane – he had even brought exotic flowers from Asgard, to boot. Bruce was in Virginia to have a nice – hopefully Hulk-free – dinner with Betty. Clint's wife, Laura – who totally existed and wasn't just a figment of Bruce's drug-induced hallucinations – had come to visit from their farm in [REDACTED]. The day was expected to be one of romance and love.
Except for the fact that it was bitterly cold outside. Because of this, Clint had to cancel his dinner plans and just decided to make dinner in the tower. Laura, being an old-fashioned kind of girl, was just fine with that.
Someone else who was just fine with that was Natasha. She didn't want to admit it, but she was super secretly jealous that Clint was married. Not because she was in love with him or anything silly like that, but because she also wanted to have someone to call her own. She thought it could have been Steve, but he couldn't take a hint if she had been laying spread eagle on his bed while stark naked with Barry White playing in the background. It was uncanny how someone so handsome could be so dense.
Natasha and the rest of the people who couldn't get anyone to like it and put a ring on it – namely Steve, Pietro and Wanda – were sitting in the common recreation room, preparing to have what they dubbed a 'single's only party'. Just because they were all single didn't mean they couldn't have a good time. She even went as far as to invite her and Steve's friend Sam Wilson, since he was also single.
Unfortunately, Clint decided that then and there was a great place to make out with Laura. They were all over each other, making disgusting, exaggerated make out noises and feeling up on each other. Laura, being the more conscientious of the two, tried to protest; but every time she spoke up, he practically stuck his tongue down her throat.
"Oh baby!" he moaned throatily. "Your lips taste so good. I bet the rest of you tastes better, though." He grinned lasciviously and tried to maneuver himself so he could plant kisses on her neck.
"Really, Clint?" Natasha demanded. "You're just gonna make out and make poorly constructed sex jokes in front of the rest of us? Really?"
"Yep," he answered unabashedly.
"But why?"
"Because I like rubbing in the fact that I'm married and you're not."
"But why? Aren't we friends?"
"Yeah. That's why it's so fun. Poking fun at your friends is great. Right guys?"
"Right," Pietro agreed.
"Do you not care that you're making the rest of us feel uncomfortable?" Wanda asked, face crimson red from embarrassment (probably).
"Nope. Not in the slightest."
"Well, I do," Laura said as she shoved him off. "Get off me, Clint."
He pouted and slumped onto the sofa next to her. "See what you've done with your selfishness, Natasha?"
"You made me agree with Barton, Natasha," Pietro said with a disgusted scowl. "Do you realize how much that hurts my soul?"
"Cry me a river, both of you." No one was going to ruin her single persons only party; not even her best friend.
"Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Wilson is on his way up," Jarvis reported suddenly.
"Ah, great. Now we can get started."
"Who's Mr. Wilson?" Wanda asked.
"Sam Wilson," Steve answered. "He's a very good friend of Natasha and I."
"She has friends?" Pietro asked in disbelief. "I thought she had people that she threatened less frequently than others."
She shrugged. "Same difference." No sooner had she spoken, the elevator doors opened to let Sam in. "Sam, you made it."
"What's up, everyone?" He walked in and started to introduce himself to the ones he didn't know. "I'm Sam. It's nice to meet you guys."
"Great to finally meet you, Sam. Steve and Nat talk about you a lot."
Natasha couldn't stop the small smile from forming on her lips. She had been meaning to introduce Sam and Clint, but just couldn't find the time. She figured that the two of them would have a few things in common. And who knew; maybe the two could become friends. She certainly didn't expect to be friends with either of them – or anyone, really – so anything was possible.
"So, Laura, you were telling us you live in [REDACTED]?" Steve said idly after the introductions were over.
"Ah, yes. I live there on Clint's farm with our two children."
"I still can't believe that you have kids, Clint," he responded with a shake of his head. "How come you never said anything?"
"Sorry, guys, but I had to protect their privacy," he said apologetically. "With all the enemies we have out there, the wrong person lets something slip and there goes my family." He smiled and squeezed his wife's thigh. "Besides, Laura likes her privacy. Right, baby?"
"Right, sweetie." She kissed him chastely on the cheek. "Clint originally wanted to move us here to the tower, but I like it out there in [REDACTED]. It's very quiet and the neighbors are all so helpful."
"Especially Mrs. Langford. She loves watching Cooper and Lila while we're away. And the kids love playing in her big backyard."
"Wow, [REDACTED] sounds really nice," Sam said with a smile.
"Yep, sure is. I know that a lot of people like to talk crap about places like [REDACTED], but it really is a nice place to live. At the risk of sounding corny, it's a great place to raise a family."
"If you're into that sort of thing," Laura added before they both laughed.
"You know, it's funny," Sam said with a small chuckle. "I got a scholarship to play basketball at the University of [REDACTED]. I joined the Air Force instead, so I never signed the letter of intent."
"That's a great school. My cousin Jeremy went to school there."
While they conversed by the many great things about [REDACTED] – she herself enjoyed it whenever she was there – Natasha snuck into the kitchen to take a tray pizza rolls out of the oven.
This is so great. All my friends in there, getting along on Valentine's Day. What more could a girl ask for?
Natasha smiled and placed the still hot pizza rolls on a large plate, and then headed back into the living room. She wasn't gone for two minutes.
When she returned, she found not joyful chatter and laughter, but Clint and Sam squaring off chest-to-chest, both daring the other to take the first swing.
There was a tense silence in the room; they could hear a pin drop.
"Take it back," Clint demanded, voice scarily quiet and calm.
"Make me," Sam responded defiantly.
Natasha's mouth fell open. She groped for a word, anything to get them to stop. It seemed that the more sensible people in the room were at a similar loss. Steve and Wanda were in absolute shock, likely over how quickly things degraded – however it happened. Laura was just touching her forehead, as if futilely fending off a migraine. Pietro was quietly laughing to himself.
Seconds ticked off one after the other, each one more tense than the previous. "Um, guys—"
Clint pushed Sam. Sam fired back with a solid right hook that sent the Avenging Archer stumbling back. Sam tried to follow this up with a double leg takedown, but Clint quickly regained his balance and grabbed him before he could knock him to the floor.
They locked up, matching strength for strength and will for will. The two men struggled against each other, neither one gaining or giving any momentum on the other.
"Guys, stop!" It was strange; Natasha noticed that she was the only one voicing disapproval at the sudden fight. It was like the others were too shocked to do anything. Steve looked like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Natasha placed the plate of pizza rolls on a nearby table and moved to break up the scuffle. The men, both former soldiers and heroes, were too determined to surrender. Neither would stop until his opponent had been rendered incapable of continuing. Then, and only then, would he feel that his side of whatever issue spurred this on had been vindicated.
But, there seemed to be much more at stake than simply proving who was right and who was wrong in this issue, whatever it was. Pride was on the line. Once the fight started, it couldn't end until one couldn't fight anymore. Both men, accomplished hand-to-hand fighters in their own right, didn't want to be that one. They simply prided themselves too much on their fighting skills to allow themselves to lose.
Natasha wedged herself in between them in a bid to push them apart. Unfortunately, adrenaline was running to high, so they were too tightly locked in for her to do it on her own. And she was doing it on her own, as even after she started to try and pull them apart, no one else made a move to help her. Wanda looked completely confused.
Natasha squirted loose as the two combatants fell to the floor, still locked together in mortal kombat. Clint managed to gain some leverage and started landing heavy punches all over Sam's head and shoulder area. "Take it back!" he roared.
Suddenly, Sam flipped them over and returned the favor with several punches of his own. "Admit that I'm right!" he snarled.
"Enough!" Wanda separated them with her telekinesis. "I cannot believe that you are fighting over something this stupid so quickly!"
"It isn't stupid, Wanda," Clint argued, out of breath from mortal kombat.
"Yes, it is. It is the most trivial, stupidest thing for two grown men to be fighting over."
"I've killed far greater men than this joke for far less."
I—I actually believe you, but that's beside the point."
Pietro couldn't breathe. He was more wheezing than laughing.
"For god's sake, brother, take a breath."
Natasha stood and brushed herself off. "What the actual hell is going on?! I'm gone for two fucking minutes and you two are about to tear each other apart!"
"I can't do it, Nat. I just can't. I want that piece of crap out of this tower!"
"That's fine by me," Sam said. "I didn't want to come here anyway. I wouldn't have if I had known this jackass was here."
"Sam, don't go!" she pleaded. "Steve, say something." Steve was stunned into complete silence. "Laura?" Laura looked to be just about done with everything and ready to go back to [REDACTED]. "Anyone?"
"Sorry, Nat, but I just can't be in the same room with someone so unwilling to accept simple facts." Sam started to walk out.
"Facts? Let me know when you plan on stating any, because you sure as hell didn't a few minutes ago."
He stopped and whirled around. "Are you serious? Are you being serious right now? The only person here who's living in some fantasy world where wrong statements are treated as truth is you, Barton."
"Wha—that's it!" With that, he drew a gun from a holster under his shirt. He turned the safety off, cocked it and aimed it at Sam. "Forget being in the same room. I don't want to be on the same plane of existence as this guy."
In turn, Sam drew his own gun, turned the safety off, cocked it, and aimed it at Clint. "The feeling is mutual."
The room was still silent from the fight, so the tense air only became more tense. Strangely, the looks of pure, utter, undiluted disbelief from the likes of Wanda, Steve and Laura intensified. It was just disbelief; it was advanced disbelief.
Both men, both hardened soldiers, stared unflinchingly at one another, both daring the other to pull the trigger. Forefingers rested tenuously on triggers, inches away from squeezing and sending bullets flying.
Tony emerged from the elevator. "Hey, Clint, you got a condom. I just used my last—whoa, what the hell? What's with the guns?!"
At the word gun, Pepper teleported into the room, with only a red satin sheet wrapped around her. "Why are there guns being pointed in my tower?!" Pepper had a very strict policy that prohibited the use of guns inside the tower, except under very specific circumstances. This, obviously, was not one of those circumstances.
"Actually, I'm pretty sure this is part of the 88% that Tony owns," Clint said.
"Shut up, Clint. Why. Are there. Guns. IN. MY. TOWER?!"
"Um…"
"Who are you?"
"I'm Sam."
"Oh, you're Sam. Hi. Steve and Natasha talk about you a lot. Why are you just pointing a loaded pistol all willy nilly?"
"Uh… in self-defense! He pointed his at me first!"
"I am going to count to ten, and when I get to ten, those guns had better not be visible." They didn't want to know what would happen if they still were. "One. Two. Seven. Eight."
With haste than humanly possible, they clicked the safeties one and dropped the pistols to the floor.
"That's what I thought. Tony dear, if you'll come back to bed."
Tony was just about as confused as anyone. "Uh… yeah, sure. Just let me get a—"
"NOW!"
"Okay, okay." He sighed and followed her back to the elevator.
"Now, what the hell is going on around here?!" Natasha demanded. "You guys are talking and getting along and literally two minutes later, you're about to kill each other. You'd better have a damn good reason to have ruined my already crappy Valentine's Day. I'm young, I'm hot and I'm still single, damn it! Why am I still single?! One of you two had damn well have said something really freaking racist or so help me, I'm stabbing the both of you! Start talking!"
The room remained silently, mainly due to her sudden and emotional outburst. After several moments, it was Sam that started talking. "It's because of this ass just won't accept facts."
"I won't accept facts? Why should I accept anything that just a blatant lie dreamed up by some fanboy?"
"Fanboy? You're the fanboy with your ignoring simple, scientifically proven facts and statements. You didn't provide one shred of evidence outside of your opinions."
"Who needs evidence? Everyone knows that you were wrong, Wilson. Just admit I was right so we can all move on with our lives."
"That'd be like admitting that the earth is flat. It just can't and shouldn't be done. Only an idiot believes you're right, Barton."
Natasha had had enough. "What are you two even arguing about?!"
"This stupid son of a bitch had the sheer audacity to claim that falcons were better than hawks!"
The strength was just sapped from her legs. She collapsed to her hands and knees. Her eyes were wide with utter and pure disbelief, just like everyone else in the room.
"But I set him straight," Clint continued proudly.
"Clint, I'm about to punch you in your goddamn scrotum."
"What? Why?"
"Why? Because you two idiots were about to kill each other over birds." Before either one could argue, she stood and continued. "No, listen. You were about to kill someone else… over birds. Not war. Not money. Not some blood feud between your families. Not drugs. Not politics. Not over some racist comment one of you made. Not because Sam slept with Laura. But, birds. We're talking about birds, Clint. Birds."
It was then, and only after she laid it all out that they both realized how stupid they looked and acted. They looked suitably ashamed. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."
"Okay, then. Now apologize."
"I'm sorry, Clint."
"Sorry, Sam."
"Not to each other, to me, you idiots."
"Oh, sorry, Nat."
"Yeah, sorry, Tasha."
She shook her head. She was tired and completely fed up with this entire day. It was late and the party had been completely ruined before it started. "Screw this stupid holiday. I'm going to bed."
As she left, Steve finally spoke up. "Besides, both you idiots were wrong. Everyone knows that bald eagles are the best birds of prey. Fight me."
The day had been a complete waste. No party. Her friends were real life internet tough guys. And she was still single. The only actual relationship she had been in was with Matt Murdoch. Honestly, with the way his luck with women went, it was a miracle that she wasn't crazy, a drug addict, or dead. Every other guy was either taken, waiting for someone to invent a way to reverse death and aging, or completely scared of her.
"Maybe I'm just destined to be alone forever." She stepped out of the elevator and into her penthouse. She contemplated drowning her woes and sorrows into a bottle of vodka, but decided to just go straight to bed.
As soon as she walked into her bedroom and turned on the light to change into her pajamas, she found a huge bouquet of flowers and a big heart-shaped box of chocolates on her bed. "Wow," she marveled silently. A grin appeared on her lips as she picked up the bouquet and brought it to her nose. It smelled so good.
There was a card attached. Excitedly, she pulled it free and opened it. It was empty, other than the printed message inside. "Damn it." Of course it was a secret admirer. Then again, it was a lot more fun to play detective and find out who it was than know outright.
She smiled. The day hadn't been a waste after all.