Thanks to my beta reader Reiya Sunshine. She wanted to read this, then I made her beta read it! xD

Enjoy it. :)

The plane engines roared up in the sky. There were few cars out in the street, but its engines working gave the street its city appeal. There were quiet barks coming from dogs in the distance as their owners were taking them out for a walk. Exhaust fumes mingled with the hot dog scent coming from the street vendors' stalls. Bright neon lights lit up and the colors of the traffic lights became prominent against the dark of the night. Despite the ambience that surrounded her, Natasha kept her head down and the hood of her sweatshirt over her red curls. Her heeled boots made her steps echo like a Ping-Pong game between the walls of the buildings. With her hands tucked in the pockets of her leather jacket, Natasha did her best to stray apart from the few people that walked out in the street.

The conversations were rapid murmurs that buzzed in her ears as she walked past them. Futile conversations, ripped off from tactile emotions and concerns. The fake Natasha talked like that; the real Natasha had concerns, very well hidden emotions, and a constant fear of failure. Fear of missing a shot, of not doing the right thing, of not saying the right thing, of not loving enough, even if love was still some foreign word for which she had no definition. No one knew what it was like to be unmade, compromised, to be shown that everything they'd once believed was right, was corruptible, dirty, nothing more than a bunch of lies and secrets. She couldn't deal with secrecy anymore. Even if she wanted to, her whole life was up on public display now.

Yet, the most single important thing she always had, the only constant in her life, was still safe. And that was a major relief.

The city atmosphere gradually faded away. Quietness embraced her, nature in its purest state. The warm summer air whipped through Natasha's unzipped jacket, bringing the sound of crickets chirping with it. Her steps were louder than before now that she was walking on gravel. The friction from the soles of her boots on the ground created a pleasant sound. The wind gently caressed the tree's leaves, and tiny insects and animals rustled in between the bushes. She raised her head now, the dim light from the lamps exposing a face that hadn't seen sleep in days.

She sat at a bench, directly in front of another one that was occupied. He lifted his head once he heard her sauntering footsteps and the gravel crunching under her feet. His chest expanded and his lips drew into a smile. His lips parted opened but the words didn't leave his mouth; she gestured for him not to, pressing her index against her rosy lips. Natasha, ever-so paranoid, he thought, but it was paranoia and thrill that had been keeping her alive. If she didn't want their voices to be exposed, then so be it. They gazed at each other for quite a long time, their silent conversation being lulled by the crickets chirping, the wind coming and going and the existential background noise of the city.

[I missed you.] He signed with his hands.

He knew she understood sign language. However, she didn't respond.

He did miss her. Hell if he hadn't.

He missed her on those lazy mornings, the way she'd wake up relaxed as fuzzy remnants of whatever she'd dreamt of was chased away. She'd smile, slightly as always, but it was an honest and warming smile. After rolling out of bed, his shirts always seemed to be her clothing choice and her hair, either loose and messy or tied-up in a sloppy bun, always gave her a hint of innocence and loveliness, two things she always said she never had. Everything was slow around them filled with zero worries. It was the most domestic thing the two spies could get.

He missed that crazy cat of hers (which she always stubbornly said it wasn't hers) that kept her company at the window sill. Petting that cat was an adventure, always a chance of causing the cat to purr or to get a hand sliced off by its claws. The scratches on the back of his hand were still healing and it had been two months already. Maybe he didn't really miss that cat. But he missed Natasha sitting on the window sill wearing shorts and an oversized shirt, taking small sips from a glass of wine, gazing at the bustling city.

[You're safe. I did my best to keep you out of trouble.] She gestured.

[I don't care.] He didn't mean it in a way of disregarding what she did to keep him out of trouble. He meant it as he didn't actually worried about it. He only worried about if she was okay.

[Are you hurt anywhere?]

[Shoulder. Soviet slug. Again.] She rolled her eyes as she signed the last word. Clint smirked. Natasha was always so relaxed about those things, sometimes thinking too rationally.

[Kiss swimsuits bye-bye too.] Natasha flipped him the bird with a straight face. He chuckled and Natasha's chest filled up with air. He had a nice laugh, always hearty and amused.

Silence settled in again, comfortably lingering around them. Natasha didn't say anything. She just gazed him.

[I have to go.]

Natasha got up, Clint didn't move, only looked up, expecting what she was going to do next as she didn't walk away. She removed the hoodie and closed the distance between them with long, hasty strides. Clint only had time to get up before feeling her body clashing against his. Her fingers clawed on his back, and her face was buried in the crook of his neck. He put his right arm around her, keeping her close to his chest, the fingers of his left hand tangling in her red curls. Natasha sighed, breathing in his cologne, his scent, feeling his embrace.

"It's okay, I got you."

A gross, involuntary sob escaped Natasha's mouth. It was so good to hear his voice. "I missed hearing you saying that."

It was true what she was saying; Clint never failed to tell her that he'd always have her back. She felt both vulnerable and safer around him.

"You could come home with me."

"I can't. For now."

"I understand." Clint let go of her first, cradling her face in his hands. He placed a kiss on her forehead and then a tender peck on her lips.

[I love you.] After gesturing that, he covered her head with the hood again, ready to watch her walk away. Natasha grasped him by the shirt's collar and pulled him for a kiss.

"Мой идиот ястреб." She whispered against his lips.

He smiled, "Take care, Tash."

"You too."

This was a small cutesy thing to contrast with the whole HYDRA drama and... yeah... This was meant to warm up the hearts of many, I hope.