An Unlikely Romance - The Avengers (Part 1)

Shock and Aww

"Got anything else you want us to pack up?"

"What would I have?" you asked Clint, genuinely confused. "Fury won't even let me have a stress toy. ***I asked***."

"Probably just didn't want you imagining you were choking the life out of him," Clint said with a shrug, so casually he sounded like he'd done it a dozen times. "But seriously, all those times we hung out, and you're telling me you didn't even smuggle one keg of beer back to that room of yours?"

"How in the hell would I smuggle a keg of beer back there, much less actually hide it?"

"You really need to work on your imagination," Clint taunted, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"And you need to work on your discipline. Guess you're both behind on that front," Natasha said, walking past the both of you with yet another box full of equipment. She'd taken to emptying out the training room, now that most of the rest of the house had been packed up, including your bed.

"We probably should get back to helping her," you said, nodding toward the door and starting to move again. You'd been holding a box of pieces of the torn down training equipment when Clint started interrogating you on your imaginary alcohol stash. Fury still didn't trust you enough to let you load it onto whatever truck or van they were packing things into, but you were at least - finally - allowed to go to the front door to the apartment/cell without direct supervision. Probably had to do with the GPS chip in your arm.

"Well, all that's left is my room. Guess I can't really slack on that front," Clint said at last, sighing as he turned away from you and started toward the back room. As you dropped off the box of training gear he passed you by, a huge tote filled with binders. Knowing him, they were probably filled with something completely irrelevant to his work as a... spy? Whatever the hell these "Agents" actually did.

There was a certain tension in the air, but it was a shared one. This was the first time you'd been around Clint and Natasha at the same time in a long while, and for once, you didn't think they were both deliberately avoiding or watching you. The move may have been making them nervous, but you felt like just slightly less of an outsider to them. Even for Natasha. Her taunts aside, she had actually relaxed a bit since your last real conversation. She was hardly friendly, but at least she wasn't actively trying to intimidate you.

You worked for a bit longer in silence, passing Clint and Natasha several times, always with a polite nod or a curt smile. Eventually, however, the boxes started to dwindle. The last of the training equipment was gone, but Natasha and Clint were still venturing into their private rooms. The fact that the doors automatically locked behind them was definitely slowing them down, but you were still surprised at the sheer number of boxes they were carrying out. How big were their rooms? They'd never let you see their private quarters. You wished they were using transparent totes to carry things around; you would have loved to know what the hell they needed so many boxes for. A part of you wondered if you were watching the two SHIELD Agents carry out an arsenal that would make a large militia jealous.

When you sat the last box by the door, Clint seemed to take over the rest of the journey. Instead of going into his private room he started hauling off the boxes you'd delivered, while Natasha continued to work on her own things. Neither of them had ever hauled out any pieces of furniture, but you doubted that they would have gone this long without a bed, desk, chair, or something else. You just weren't sure if they hadn't hauled those things out yet, or if they had done it before you woke up.

"By all means, make yourself at home. I think we can handle this," Natasha said, quirking an eyebrow at you as she continued to carry boxes out to the front door.