An Assassin's Creed | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 11

Natasha rolled over in her bed, groaning and pressing a pillow against her ear and face as someone pounded away at her apartment door. The sharp raps echoed through the quiet apartment, making them seem louder than they really were.

"Natty!" Clint called from out in the hallway, pounding once more on her door. "Natty! Natasha! I know you're in there, Nat! It's not like that one time when I had the wrong floor!" He pounded again, ignoring the annoyed, angry, and sleepy glares coming from her neighbors that had gotten up to see who was making so much noise at this hour. "Come on, Nat, open the door! I left my key at home!"

Natasha groaned louder, slamming her eyes shut, as she tried to ignore Clint's incessant pounding. With each second that she laid in bed, the loud raps of Clint's fists seemed to grow louder and louder, until Natasha couldn't take it anymore. In addition to Clint's shouting and pounding, she heard the more muffled yells of her neighbors pleading with her to open the door. With a loud, exasperated, and exaggerated sigh, Natasha threw off the covers and stomped out of her room to her door, throwing it open and sending Clint a glare.

"Morning, Princess," Clint said, pushing Natasha aside and stepping into her apartment. He walked into her kitchen and started digging around in her pop tarts. Natasha glared at him more, crossing her arms over her chest. Clint took a pop tart, opened it and started eating it, looking back at her. "What? Did you just get up?"

Natasha ignored his question and sent him one of her own. "What the fuck are you doing here, Clint?"

"What? I can't come and visit my best friend?"

"You call first, Clint. And don't wake me the fuck up."

"Well, like I said, I left my key at home. Figured you'd let me in..."

"You still call first, Clint. Especially since I didn't answer right away." She walked out of the kitchen and sat down at her dining table, the that was left by previous owners when she moved in and didn't use because...well, she never needed to. She never had company and all her dinners were eaten on the couch while she watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "What if I wasn't home? Or if something happened and I couldn't come to the door? Would you just sit outside pounding away at my door, irritating my neighbors?"

"Probably not. I think at some point, I would've just kicked down your door and made myself at home and wait for you to get back." He took another pop tart from the box and bit into it, Natasha glaring at him. She stood up and marched over to him, snatching the pop tart from his hand and stuffing it back in the box, before placing it on the counter.

"Can you not eat all my food? I haven't gone food shopping in a while and I'm almost out."

"Wow. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today..." Clint's voice held a playful tone that only incited more frustration in Natasha.

"Considering that you woke me up, count yourself lucky I haven't ended your life. Keep in mind, the only reason you're still living is because I love Laura too much to leave her alone with two young kids." Though she was kidding, her harsh glare sent a wave of fear through the archer that had him recoiling and losing his playful tone.

"I'm sorry, Nat. Next time I'll call."

"You fucking better," she grumbled, making herself a cup of coffee.

The mood in the apartment calmed down considerably since Clint first came, and after careful begging and apologizing, Nat made him a cup of coffee and gave him the rest of the pop tart that he started eating. As Clint settled on her couch, Natasha went back into her bathroom and threw herself together, brushing her teeth and brushing out the birds nest that was her hair, before finally sitting next to him with her coffee and a cereal bar. Her phone sat under her thigh on the couch, and as they ate and drank in near silence, a muffled tone rang out, alerting the both of them to the incoming message. Natasha picked up her phone and smiled when she saw who it was from.