Fighting Next To You ~ A Clintasha FanFiction

Part Five

A/N: Hey everyone! It has been quite a while since I last updated any of my FanFictions, I've actually just finished my exams so now that they're over, I have a lot of time to write FanFiction! I really hope you guys enjoy this part, please remember to comment, recommend and vote!

~ Sam xx

*Natasha's POV*

            There's four floors to the house; a basement that acts as a garage, ground floor, first floor and an attic. Barton parks the truck in the garage and we start to bring our cases inside. The interior of the house is out-dated, and is not my style at all. "I like it!" Barton says happily. I knew he'd like it. "Let's unpack and then go shopping for food, I doubt there's any in." Barton instructs.

            I packed light. I don't really own much so it wasn't hard picking clothes, although, I was told to pack things that a normal house wife would wear (what does that even mean?). Barton and I are sharing a room. I'm an introvert and I like my own space, I like to be alone. When I'm alone I can think straight, I can be emotional and experience pain alone. There's one closet in our room, it's made of dark wood and has mirrors on the inside of both doors. I hang up all of my clothes on the right side, and put all my underwear and socks in the drawer below my hanging clothes. Barton has only brought one case, so fitting everything in shouldn't be a problem. There's a black case on the bed for weapons. "Jeez, we should probably hide this." Barton says behind me, making me jump. When did he come in? Carefully, he opens the black case, revealing several machine guns, pistols, a bow and a shit load of arrows. There's also some pepper spray, gloves that have the ability to give people electric shocks, nun chucks and a few daggers. Barton zips the case back up and shoves it underneath the bed.

"Finished unpacking?" He asks me, sitting down next to me.

"Nearly." I say, watching as Barton starts to unpack his own clothes. He's packed lightly too, although he seems to own about fifty pairs of shoes.

"These ones are my dance shoes," Barton says, showing me the shoes, "and these ones are my beach shoes."

I laugh. "I sincerely doubt we'll be going to the beach much."

Barton shakes his head. "You never know, we might have time."

           
       Barton ended up going food shopping alone whilst I finished the unpacking. I pick out a pale blue blouse and a pair of jeans from the wardrobe and change into them. Where should I put my cat suit? I hang it up at the back of the wardrobe next to Barton's suit. Whilst I'm alone, I might as well explore the house.

            The kitchen is huge. The biggest kitchen I've ever been in. There's a massive breakfast bar and a wooden dining table, with a dainty vase sitting in the centre. The vase is empty. The sitting room is smaller than the kitchen. There's three leather couches surrounding a glass coffee table, and an old-fashioned TV placed in the corner of the room. It's safe to say that the whole house is extremely boring.

            "Honey, I'm home!" Barton calls ironically as he walks into the house. I roll my eyes and help him to unpack the shopping.

"Where's the fruit?" I snap.

"Oh, shit, I knew I forgot something." Barton says as he puts some cereal boxes into a cupboard. At least he bought vegetables. I turn around to look at the dining table and I discover that the vase is now filled with roses, orange ones, yellow ones and pink ones. "Do you like the flowers?" Barton asks me. "Roses were always my Mom's favourite." As he says this a small smile creeps onto his face as he remembers his Mom. "She never liked red roses or white roses. She said they were too clichéd. So, my Dad always bought orange, yellow and pink ones. He'd come back late from work some nights, and my Mom would be busy with Barney and I. He would put the roses in a vase and wait for her notice them, and when she did, all of her stress would just drain away." He rearranges the flowers in the vase and begins to set the table for dinner.

"They're lovely. Roses are my favourite too." When I say this, Barton smiles a sweet smile which makes my insides turn to mush. What's wrong with me? Maybe I'm just tired...

:*:*:*:*:*:

            I decided to cook dinner as Barton went shopping. My cooking expertise is slim, but I can cook a mean steak when I want to. "Barton! Dinner's ready!" I put the two plates on the table and Barton comes running into the kitchen.

"Steak? I thought I could smell it from upstairs, but I didn't know if I was dreaming or not." He guzzles it down immediately, and his eyes don't leave the plate. This is my life now I guess, cooking dinner and cleaning the house whilst Barton goes to work. Barton stands up and clears our plates away. "Thanks Tasha, that was great." He smiles and kisses my forehead lightly. The last time he called me Tasha was in Budapest.