Natasha Romanoff One Shots

For The Coffee ~ F

Words: 4.5k
Relation: Romantic
Genre: Fluff

It was only six months ago that Clint Barton had aided in defecting Natasha into SHIELD instead of carrying out the execution order that he had been given. During that time she had been trying to do things to make her feel like she was a normal American citizen. She was aware that growing up in a Russian organisation that turns young girls into assassins wasn't the most conventional upbringing, so now that she was in the States she wanted to feel like she had some normalcy. 

If she was tired after work she would take her car to a fast-food drive-thru instead of cooking, even though she wasn't a fan of the greasy food, she went to bars with work friends even though she didn't like their company, she attended dinner parties, baby showers, the whole works.

She didn't like doing any of those things, her excitement of normalcy soon turned into pure dread of wearing yet another mask. 

A mask that presented her to others as your average person with an average social battery and average interests.

Wearing this mask was exhausting, she was used to pretending to be someone that she wasn't, it was how she had survived most of her life. But this one was a tough one to master as it was nothing like the other ones she had to create in the past. She had never had to pretend to want to socialise for five-six days a week, she had never had to make constant polite small talk and ask people about their days in almost every interaction. It was very new, very alien.

The struggle of wearing it meant that to others she seemed withdrawn, even sometimes disinterested. Natasha wasn't stupid, she knew that people seemed to be more reserved around her because of how she acted, she just didn't know how to change this. 

It was very off-putting. Her chance at a new life was now a life sentence. She didn't fit in, that was clear to her, and she didn't think that she ever would. Which was something that she was coming to terms with.

A few months into her new life came the self-loathing feeling, she thought that she was acting ungrateful for this new opportunity. She didn't know that her feelings were valid, anyone would feel it when being thrown into a completely new situation from all angles, but it wasn't like she had anyone to reassure her of this as she never opened up to anyone about it in the first place.

She gave herself six months. Six months to feel like she fit into the normalcy.

But she still didn't.

Months turned into a year. A year turned into years. She was miserable. This was a level of frustration and isolation that she had never felt before.

Every day had become the same. Wearing the same mask as she headed to work with the people who didn't understand her, who could never understand her. The closest friend she had was Clint, but she just felt guilty when around him.

Guilty that he had stuck his neck out for her to get here to where she was now, and how did she repay him? By keeping him and everyone else at arm's length, not allowing herself to relish in what she could have if she wanted it. 

Even through her personal and social struggles, she had always loved her job. She was good at it which gave her a sense of achievement, something she felt she lacked in all other areas. The brief serotonin rushes that she would get would almost make staying worth it.

Almost.

There came a point where Natasha eventually hated her job. When she was in the Red Room and dreamt of life outside, she had always imagined work only being a small part of it. Most of her hopes and dreams lay in the idea of having a home that she could share with someone, travelling the world with the person that she loved, having a rewarding hobby, doing charity work, anything. But instead, all of her happiness had resided in her day job.