Now in fairness, it should be pointed out that he almost never notices Natasha approaching unless he just so happens to be facing her at the time. The woman moves like a cat. And of course when he's absorbed in a project in the workshop, the rest of the world might as well cease to exist. Add to that the music blasting full volume, and the screaming whine of the angle grinder just audible over it, he wouldn't have been distracted from his current task by a tactical air strike. Tinted goggles sit over his eyes, reflecting the sparks flying from the unsprung component unfortunate enough to have attracted his attention
( ... )
The sudden silence strikes like a blow and Natasha's fingers curve nervously around the small (but deadly) throwing knife that's tucked away safely in a holster at the small of her back. It's the one weapon that Clint let her keep (against Fury's express orders, though Natasha doesn't know that) once they got themselves situated in the tower. An exercise in trust from both of them. Her trusting him enough to surrender her weapons. Him trusting her enough to leave her one
( ... )
Tony rests his elbows on the workbench and appraises her thoughtfully. He followed the process of tracking her down and bringing her back in from a distance, helping mostly by providing tech and intel, and occasionally a shoulder to rant on when Clint was particularly frustrated with the situation. Not that Tony's much less frustrated. He's had to lie low in the tower for nearly two months now and he's starting to go a little stir-crazy. But she's back now and in theory - in theory - soon things can start getting back to normal.
Except...well, she's not her is she? He can't pin it down to anything specific, but there's undeniably something different; something in the way she carries herself, a tension that wasn't there before. It's a subtle thing, but it's enough to make it inescapably clear that she's not the same person. He scratches absently at his cheek, leaving a smear of slick black engine oil behind, and as her gaze flickers to his chest his hand unconsciously follows it. The warm, smooth casing of the arc reactor hums
( ... )
Tony's right about the tension. Not all of it stems from the fact that the past self she's been thrown back into carried herself differently though. Sure, there's a difference to the body language of a girl who has come to expect nothing but violence from everyone in her life, from that of a woman who knows her place in the world. But, a lot of the tension singing through her muscles comes from the fact that she's in a strange place filled with strangers who all know her while she doesn't know anything about them. Or not enough, at any rate.
"He hasn't--" Natasha shakes her head. Clint hasn't told her much about any of the other Avengers. Hell, they're still on her. A decade and change is a lot of time to cover.
The little bit of information about their relationship sends her tension levels sky-rocketing though. She doesn't know how much more she can take of other people telling her who she is. She appreciates what Hawkeye -- fuck Clint -- is doing for her, but it's hard finding out about herself second-hand. Especially when she
( ... )
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Except...well, she's not her is she? He can't pin it down to anything specific, but there's undeniably something different; something in the way she carries herself, a tension that wasn't there before. It's a subtle thing, but it's enough to make it inescapably clear that she's not the same person. He scratches absently at his cheek, leaving a smear of slick black engine oil behind, and as her gaze flickers to his chest his hand unconsciously follows it. The warm, smooth casing of the arc reactor hums ( ... )
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"He hasn't--" Natasha shakes her head. Clint hasn't told her much about any of the other Avengers. Hell, they're still on her. A decade and change is a lot of time to cover.
The little bit of information about their relationship sends her tension levels sky-rocketing though. She doesn't know how much more she can take of other people telling her who she is. She appreciates what Hawkeye -- fuck Clint -- is doing for her, but it's hard finding out about herself second-hand. Especially when she ( ... )
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