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Natasha doesn’t know why she’s surprised to find Kate on her doorstep, but when she opens the door, she’s undeniably surprised to see Kate Bishop right there in the middle of the hall with a determined look on her face that Natasha’s learned she wears only when she’s nervous about something.
“Clint’s not here. He’s on a mission,” Natasha says.
“I know,” Kate replies. Her voice is even and unwavering, and she doesn’t drop her fierce expression. “I’m here to see you.”
Natasha lifts her eyebrows, not bothering to hide her surprise. She’s gotten used to the young archer who Clint has kind of taken under his wing as a protégée, and she really does like Kate. But Kate doesn’t come to see her. That’s not really a thing they do, which isn’t a bad thing, Natasha thinks, but judging by the way Kate’s got her fighting face on, she isn’t there for just a fun chitchat between friends.
Natasha steps back from the door without saying anything and lets Kate into the apartment. Out of habit, Kate goes straight to the kitchen and starts messing around with the coffee pot. As Natasha closes the door, she notices how Kate just knows where everything in the apartment is, and she hides a smirk. Kate’s visit itself may be a surprise, but Kate’s comfort and intimate knowledge of the apartment is anything but.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Natasha asks drily. Kate glances over her shoulder as she gets the coffee going.
“I want to learn how to sign,” she says. Her words come out all in a rush, and for a second, Natasha’s not sure that she’s heard the young girl right, but when Kate doesn’t look away, Natasha knows she heard everything right.
“You want to learn ASL?” she asks. Her surprise keeps increasing with each second.
“Yeah,” Kate replies. Her determination flickers for just a second, but it’s only for a second. She hoists herself up onto the counter and perches there casually as she waits for the coffee to finish. She gazes at Natasha with cool blue eyes. “Since Clint’s deaf, I figured it’s time I learn how to get on board the communication train. What if his hearing aids die while we’re out? What if they somehow get smashed into a thousand pieces? What if I need to tell him something important in front of someone who shouldn’t hear what I have to say?”
“All perfectly valid reasons,” Natasha says with a solid nod. “It definitely comes in handy for situations like those. Particularly when someone’s checking him out.”
“I can see how someone would think he’s hot for an old guy,” Kate says. She catches herself, and her blue eyes widen. Quickly, she lifts her hands and shakes her head. “I don’t mean any—I didn’t—I wasn’t talking about—“
Natasha waves her hand dismissively and rolls her eyes, smirking as she does so. “He’s older than I am, so technically, he’s old. And he’s kind of hot. So I won’t fault you for agreeing.”
Kate sighs and runs a hand through her dark, dark hair. “I just want to learn how to sign. And you know it. And Clint’s not here right now, so…”
“Why don’t you want Clint to teach you? He’s pretty good. He’s also the deaf one,” Natasha says. Mirroring Kate, she hops up onto the counter across from the young archer and studies her. Kate Bishop is 20 years old and young as hell, but Natasha can’t find it in her to write her off; God, how could she write her off? When Natasha was 20 years old, she was one of the greatest assassins in the world, and she’d already made a name for herself. At 20 years old, she’d been far older than her physical age, and she knows that Kate is, too, to some degree.
Actually, Natasha realizes, by the time Clint had made his way to her, she’d been 21 years old, only a year older than Kate. Natasha suddenly feels kind of old, even though she’s not yet 30, and she tests her body by stretching out her legs to see if she physically feels old. Kate removes the coffee pot from its stand and reaches behind herself to grab a mug from the cabinet before pouring some of the fresh dark liquid into the Eiffel Tower mug Natasha had bought a year ago during a mission.
“I could,” Kate says thoughtfully, “but I don’t want to. I want you to teach me.”
“I’m not as good at signing as Clint is,” Natasha replies with a feigned frown. She doesn’t know why she’s pushing Kate to come clean with the reason, but she keeps going. Kate gives her a rueful face and lifts the mug up to her face, blowing over the top of it to cool it off.
“Bullshit, Natasha,” she snorts. “You’re a master at languages. Everyone knows that.”
Natasha thinks about denying it, but she knows that she can’t, so she just smiles and shrugs guiltily. “Ok, so I’m not bad at signing. But why do you want me to teach you? There are a thousand people you could ask. I’m not exactly the go-to person for ASL. Actually, I’m not really the go-to person for anything unless it’s to kick someone’s ass.”
Finally, Kate smiles at the redheaded spy, and she looks a little older when she smiles, something that suits her. She holds the mug in one hand and tucks a piece of straight dark hair back behind her ear. The bangs really do make her look older, Natasha thinks with approval. “I want you to teach me because I trust you.”
Natasha pauses as the weight of Kate’s words hit her square in the chest. She wants to tell Kate that she’s stupid for putting her trust so blindly in someone without really knowing that person. Because really, Kate doesn’t know Natasha. Well, she does, but she doesn’t. She knows fun Natasha, the Natasha who wears leggings and drinks wine while watching romcoms; she knows business Natasha, the Natasha who spars with her from time to time to keep both of them on their feet. She knows romantic Natasha, the Natasha who shows Clint little bits of affection when she’s around people she knows and doesn’t actively distrust. Kate knows bits and pieces of all these different Natashas, but she doesn’t know the truth about Natasha, about the past that helped shape Natasha into the Black Widow. And honestly, Natasha would like to keep it that way.
“Make sure you’re putting your trust in the right people, Katie,” she says blandly, picking up the kid nickname that Clint gave her a while back. Kate looks confused, but she doesn’t look offended, nor does she look deterred by Natasha’s warning.
“I am,” she says. “I trust you, and I want you to teach me how to sign.”
Natasha knows if she agrees, she’ll probably have fun. She really does like Kate a lot, and she thinks that Kate’s good for Clint to have around. It’s nice for Natasha to remember that Clint isn’t alone when she’s gone because he’s got his protégée there to keep him out of trouble. Though truth be told, she thinks as she watches Kate take a sip of her coffee and jump a little bit at how hot it still is, he probably needs to keep Kate out of trouble, too.
“Ok,” she says. Kate looks up from her mug with a hopeful look on her youthful face.
“Ok?” she repeats, her hope starting to fade as she realizes that she might be interpreting Natasha’s two syllables as something else.
“Ok,” Natasha repeats, and she nods for emphasis. “I’ll teach you how to sign.”
Kate’s face lights up, and she actually kind of reminds Natasha of Clint whenever Clint gets excited over something. Maybe that’s why he and Kate work so well together, she thinks. Natasha and Clint know each other in a way that no one else ever will—she knows his favorite moves, his favorite shots to take, and his favorite trick arrows. She knows how he walks when he’s undercover, and she knows how he walks when he’s injured but trying not to show it. She knows him inside and out, the way he knows her. They’ll always be STRIKE Team: Delta, and they’ll always be partners both in the field and off the field.
But Clint works well with Kate. He has the aged experience that Kate doesn’t quite have yet, but Kate has the youth and the inspiration that he sometimes loses sight of. They’re both archers, and they can talk all that archer stuff that Natasha gets but doesn’t get. And even though Natasha doesn’t like to think about it, Clint won’t be around forever. Neither will she. But when Clint’s not there for whatever reason—don’t you dare die first, Clint Francis Barton—Kate Bishop will be. If there can be any consolation to be found, it’s that.
“Really?” Kate breathes.
“Yep. I’ll do it.” Natasha slides off the counter and crosses to Kate’s side. She doesn’t even have to ask Kate for a mug—the dark-haired archer is already twisting around to open the cabinet and grab another mug. As she passes the mug to Natasha, Natasha smiles when she sees that it’s Clint’s purple target mug. “Thanks.”
“I’m just glad you agreed to teach me. I totally have a list of words that I want to learn after we’ve mastered the basics, and it would have been really awkward if you’d said you wouldn’t help me,” Kate says. Natasha grins, pouring coffee into Clint’s mug.
“You know Clint’s mission is only like, two or three days. Unfortunately, that’s not enough time to become proficient in a language,” she says.
“Oh, that’s ok.” Kate shrugs. “I wasn’t planning on being an expert in just two or three days. But there’s a sign I’d like to learn right now for when Clint comes back.”
“Yeah?” Natasha glances over at Kate. “What is it?”
A slow smile spreads over Kate’s face, and she looks so proud of herself, Natasha’s half-convinced that Kate’s going to fall off the counter.
“Dummy.”