Work Text:
Listen, Clint wasn’t exactly thrilled about starting a new job at a coffee shop. Especially one that opened at 5:00 in the morning, but his funds were low and working at a place where he could sneak some free coffee throughout the day was probably the best situation for him. He was going to need a lot of caffeine to get through this.
The guy in charge of training him looked like another miserable human being who did not want to be awake before sunrise. He had dark circles around his eyes and chugged two cups of coffee before their first customer arrived, and Clint was slightly terrified. The man had forgotten to properly introduce himself to Clint, but his nametag indicated that his name was Bucky.
“How bad is it here?” Clint finally asked once the commuter rush was over.
“We’re severely underpaid for the amount of bullshit we have to deal with, but it could be worse,” Bucky told him.
Clint nodded in understanding. It didn’t sound amazing, but it was definitely better than the circus. The circus didn’t give him free coffee.
“You got the front desk for a while? I need a break.”
Clint was about to respond by saying ‘Not really, I haven’t learned how to make half of the things on the menu yet,’ but Bucky had already left.
After Clint spent too many minutes looking at the menu while trying to figure out what a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino is, a customer walked in.
“Please don’t order a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino,” he said to greet his first customer, which definitely was not the right thing to do.
The customer smirked, and it was an evil type of expression which meant that she was definitely going to order a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino.
“Don’t you dare,” he pleaded.
“But it’s my favorite,” she said with innocent eyes that Clint knew were just an act.
Speaking of eyes, this girl’s were amazing. They were green as emeralds and incredibly captivating. Clint almost felt like he was in a trance. She had red hair and pale skin, which provided an amazing contrast against her eyes. She was most likely the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he had absolutely no idea how to impress her as a barista because he could barely make anything besides black coffee.
“I can attempt to make it for you if you could tell me what a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino is,” he offered.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like, Clint,” she told him as her eyes focused on his nametag.
“You just want to watch me suffer. Do you realize I’m making your coffee? I could poison you while you’re not looking.”
He really wasn’t cut out to work at a coffee shop. Watching the beautiful woman smile was helping him get through it. Her smile lit up the whole room, and Clint almost forgot that he had to figure out what the hell was in that stupid drink and how to make it.
She tilted her head to the side. “You’d definitely get fired and put in jail. How’s that going to help you feed your coffee addiction?”
“How did you-” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. They had known each other for maybe two minutes and she already knew why he took this job.
“I’m good at reading people,” she said with a wink. “One Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino please.”
“Fuck me,” Clint muttered under his breath, and the woman let out the most charming giggle that he had ever heard.
Clint had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Before starting to gather ingredients, he opened the giant recipe book that held the secrets to making every drink on the menu, which he had been too lazy to read until this moment. The binder was separated into three tabs: ‘easy drinks,’ ‘slightly harder,’ and ‘haha, you’re screwed.’ It was obvious which section the Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino was listed in.
Once he found the Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino, he frantically flipped through the pages. The recipe was two pages long. Clint had absolutely no idea what kind of drink would need that. It had to have been created by Satan. It took several minutes to collect everything he needed to make the drink as Natasha calmly watched from her seat. Clint was tempted to slip some hidden hot sauce into the drink for revenge.
Bucky had only shown him how to froth the milk one time, and he really hoped that he was doing it right. He also didn’t know how to do that with a frappuccino, but he did it anyway. Normally, he probably wouldn’t have cared so much about making a good drink. If the customer hated it, he’d tell them to go somewhere else, but this woman was different. She was interesting, and Clint didn’t want to do anything to drive her away.
After the drink was finished, Clint decided to decorate the outside of the cup with his Sharpie. First, he drew a face with its tongue sticking out, showcasing how ridiculous he thought this drink was. Then, he wrote ‘Girl who wants to watch me suffer’ on the cup, because he had forgotten to ask for her name when he took her order.
“Order’s ready,” he announced.
The woman smiled to herself when she looked at the cup before taking a drink from it. She gave the cup a calculative look before shifting her gaze to Clint. “This isn’t as bad as I expected it to be.”
Clint rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you had faith in me.”
“It looks like it’s your first day. Of course I had no faith in you.”
“I’m so offended,” Clint lied. He didn’t blame her.
The woman took a seat at the counter, showing that she didn’t want to stop talking to Clint. He was surprised. She seemed like a really cool person, and most cool people had absolutely no interest in Clint. Most people ran away once they realized all he was good for was someone to grab a coffee with and self-deprecating humor.
“So, come here often?” Clint asked as he began to wipe down the customers. It was midday, and Bucky was still nowhere to be seen. Clint wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that he straight up left the building.
“You’re not the only one with a coffee addiction. I usually go for black coffee, but that would have been too boring for you to make.” She grinned. “My name’s Natasha.”
The name suited her well. It was a mysterious, yet powerful name. Clint was pretty sure that Natasha could break him in half without straining a muscle. The worst part was that Clint wouldn’t have even minded. Honestly, he’d thank her.
“Black coffee is the only real kind of coffee. You’re basically just drinking a milkshake.”
Clint was embarrassed by how hard it was to refrain from humming, My milkshake brings the boys to the yard. He was so immature, and this woman was too good for him.
Why was he even thinking about that? Clint had only known Natasha for ten minutes. He needed to slow down.
“Hey, this milkshake has caffeine,” she said before taking a dramatic sip, enunciating slurps through the straw.
“Probably not enough. You’ll just come crawling back for more.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? I don’t think you’d mind if I did.”
Clint felt his face grow hot. That wasn’t a good sign. “Shit, am I that obvious?”
Natasha smiled, and Clint felt his heart legit flutter in his chest. What was wrong with him? What did she do to him? “You are, but it’s okay.”
Clint noticed that Natasha had already finished her coffee, and he was sad about it.
“I’ll come back later. I think you were right when you said this didn’t have enough caffeine in it.”
“I’ll have a black coffee with your name on it when you get here,” Clint told her, and he could feel his cheeks hurt from grinning. He probably looked like an idiot.
“Can’t wait,” she said with a wink before walking out of the shop.
The shop felt too empty and quiet without her. Clint had absolutely no idea what to do with himself besides think about how captivating Natasha’s eyes were.
Where the hell was Bucky, anyway?
As the day went on, Clint found himself looking towards the door every few minutes, waiting for a certain redhead with bright green eyes to walk in. He had a hot pot of coffee ready to pour for her, but she never showed up. Clint tried not to think too deeply about it. He was sure that something came up, and she got sidetracked into doing something else. She didn’t seem like someone who would straight up blow him off like that. Besides, if she didn’t want more coffee, Clint couldn’t make her come back.
When Clint’s shift ended, he left the shop feeling both happy and sad at the same time. He was sad because he was expecting Natasha to come back and she never did, but he was really happy to have met her in the first place. Clint hadn’t known her for long, but he was able to easily tell that she was someone special. He was looking forward to coming back to work the next day, hoping that Natasha would come back to feed her coffee addiction.
Waking up before dawn was less painful when Clint had something to look forward to. Well, someone to look forward to seeing. He really wanted to see Natasha again. There was something about her that made her hard to stop thinking about. Clint would rather see her in person than in his thoughts.
So when the redhead who hadn’t left Clint’s thoughts walked into the shop, he had to try really hard to hide his excitement.
“Hey, how are you?” Clint asked.
Once again, Bucky had left him alone in the shop, so it was just the two of them inside. Natasha seemed to come during uncrowded times.
“I’m alright,” she responded. “Medium black coffee, please.”
The response felt a little cold to Clint. The sass that Natasha had shown him yesterday was completely absent. Instead of overthinking it, Clint went to go prepare her black coffee. He didn’t know her well enough to speculate.
“Here you go,” Clint said as he placed the cup in front of her. “Surprised you didn’t order another Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino again or something equally ridiculous.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Why would I order that? That’s not coffee.”
“I know. I warned you yesterday. Black coffee is much easier to make though, so thank you.”
“Yesterday?” Natasha asked, looking even more confused.
“Yeah, remember? You made me make you a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino yesterday, Natasha,” Clint said slowly, not knowing why she wasn’t understanding.
“I’ve never told you my name,” she said sharply, standing up from her seat.
“What? Yes you did,” Clint told her, but Natasha was already on her way out. “I swear I’m not a creep!” he shouted as she walked through the door.
Clint sighed as he took Natasha’s coffee cup, still mostly full. He honestly had no idea what he did wrong. It wasn’t usually hard for Clint to fuck up in front of others, but there was always something that caused it. He really didn’t know what he did this time, and he was pretty upset about it. He liked Natasha. She was one of the most intriguing people that he had ever met, and for some reason, she acted like she didn’t remember their first meeting the day before.
It was strange.
As the day went on, Clint tried not to think about it, but Natasha was hard not to think about. From the moment Clint had laid eyes on her, he just knew that there was something about her that made her incredibly intriguing, even if he couldn’t quite place it. All of that might not matter anymore, considering she acted like she had no idea that they had even met before.
Clint had the next day off and he was thankful for it. He didn’t dislike his new job, but he needed a break from waking up ridiculously early. He also needed a break from thinking about Natasha, but he wasn’t sure if not going to work was going to help with that predicament.
Wanting some fresh air, Clint took his dog Lucky for a walk in the park. It was a nice spring day, and there weren’t too many people around. It was nice to find a quiet area in the city. As he continued to walk, he saw someone familiar.
Natasha was seated on a bench, expressionless as she read a book. With a closer look, Clint could see something about the Cold War on the cover. Clint thought that was an interesting, yet different topic for someone to want to read about. Maybe she was a history nerd.
“Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to take a seat?” Natasha asked calmly as she placed her book on her lap.
Clint shrugged before sitting on the bench with her. Lucky laid down by his feet.
“So who are you?” Natasha asked. “Where did you get the dog?”
Clint furrowed his brows. “Clint? From Corner Coffee?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he was honestly so confused.
“And the dog?” she questioned.
“Took him from my landlord,” he said simply. She didn’t need to know the whole story.
It was weird. It wasn’t normal for people to ask others where they got their dog, right? Especially before asking the dog’s name.
“It’s a nice act, I’ll admit,” she said. “Who sent you?”
“What?” Clint asked. He actually didn’t know what else to say.
“I shouldn’t have to ask you again,” she said flatly.
Clint rolled his eyes. “Wow, you’re so weird,” he said as he stood up. “I’m gonna go. Maybe I’ll make you a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino tomorrow.”
Natasha stared back at him, green eyes filled with confusion. Once again, she was acting like she had no idea what Clint was talking about when he mentioned anything about their first meeting. She didn’t even act like she recognized him. It was the most bizarre thing.
The weirdness surrounding that almost made Clint forget what she had asked him. Who sent you? Clint had no idea why she would even ask that. He was just walking in the park with his dog, which she had said that she thought was an act. Why would he take a random dog and pretend it was his own?
Clint was definitely missing some important information, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.
The next day, Clint arrived at work without a plan, because he didn’t actually know how he was going to investigate the issue. He barely even knew what there was to investigate yet. The situation was too confusing for him, but he knew that he had to do something. Clint had to figure out how a girl who practically had flirted with him the first time they met ended up thinking he was someone in disguise sent to find her. It didn’t make any sense, and it was going to bother him until he figured it out.
As if on cue, Natasha walked into the shop in the afternoon, shortly after lunch. Once again, Bucky was nowhere to be found.
“Hi, what can I get you?” Clint asked.
At the last minute, he decided to act as if he didn’t know her. He was curious to see what she would do.
“A medium black coffee,” she said as she took a seat in front of the corner. It was what she had ordered the second time they had met.
Natasha watched him as he prepared the coffee. She didn’t bring up their weird conversation from the day before, which Clint was thankful for. It was one of the weirdest things to happen to him and he would rather not acknowledge it.
“Order’s up,” he said, placing the cup in front of her.
“Thanks,” she said.
She made no effort to continue the conversation, but she also did not look like she was planning on leaving. Clint took some time to clean up the work space to give her a chance to make a move, but she remained silent. Natasha was the most confusing, yet mysterious person Clint had ever met.
“So how’s your day going?” Clint asked.
“Fine. How is yours, Clint?” she asked.
Clint’s heart sped up. “You know my name.”
“It’s on your nametag,” she responded, pointing to his chest.
“Right,” he mumbled.
“Why would I know your name? I’ve never seen you here before,” Natasha said.
The comment startled Clint, causing him to drop his mug, and it shattered all over the floor. The mug didn’t matter though. What really mattered was that Natasha literally did not remember any of their past meetings. She had absolutely no clue who Clint was. She didn’t even know that they had flirted with each other only a few days ago. She probably had no idea what a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino was.
Damn. Clint had worked so hard to make that for her. There was a reason why that drink was listed in the ‘haha, you’re screwed’ section of the recipe binder.
“Aw, mug, no,” he said, sounding defeated.
“You’re a strange guy, Clint,” Natasha said before taking a sip from her mug.
“I’m aware of that,” Clint said as he searched for a broom to begin cleaning up his mess. He was about to say that she was strange too, but decided against it. It was for the best.
As Clint cleaned up his mess, Natasha still stayed. She could have left a while ago, but she didn’t, and Clint couldn’t explain why. He was glad that she stayed. Clint really liked her company. He liked being the subject of her gaze.
“So where are you from?” Clint asked when he finished cleaning up. He was careful not to say her name. He couldn’t drive her away while she wasn’t being defensive towards him.
“Does it matter?” she asked.
“No,” Clint was quick to respond. “Was just wondering. I’m not really from anywhere. Technically Iowa, I guess. I wasn’t there for long.”
Natasha drank from her coffee. “That’s very random.”
Clint shrugged. He poured a cup of coffee for himself. He could feel himself needing more caffeine, and it didn’t look like any other customers were coming.
“Got any hobbies?” Clint asked.
“Why are you asking?” Natasha asked, sounding slightly colder.
He was messing up. Clint was supposed to be making her comfortable, but he was doing the opposite.
“Just wondering. I like archery.”
Natasha tilted her head to the side as her shoulders relaxed. “Yeah? That’s actually pretty cool.”
“I could show you how to shoot sometime,” he offered.
“I already know how,” she said.
A moment later, her eyes widened, and Clint couldn’t figure out why. She almost looked like she was startled by what she had said.
Natasha stood up from her seat in a swift motion. “I have to go,” she said quickly before rushing out of the shop. Clint didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.
Another day, another strange meeting with Natasha. Why couldn’t Clint just have a normal meeting with an attractive woman? He really had the worst luck.
Clint did find out more information, so at least the weird conversation left him with something. He found out that Natasha didn’t remember their meetings from day to day. She also hadn’t said where she was from. Clint wondered if she didn’t remember, or if she just hadn’t wanted to tell him. It could go either way, Clint supposed.
It was a good thing that Clint was able to figure some things out, but he needed to learn more. Clint was too intrigued by this mysterious woman to stop.
When Clint was determined about something, he could never back down.
The more Clint thought about what he was doing, the more he realized that he was slightly stalking her. He didn’t want to do that. He was just curious about an attractive woman that he originally had a good conversation with. That was normal, right? He hadn’t followed her anywhere, and he had no idea where she lived. Any time they had met was by chance. He hadn’t sought her out or anything.
Clint may have been an asshole sometimes, but he wasn’t that kind of asshole. He had standards.
The conversation that Clint was the most curious about was their conversation that they’d had in the park. There was no reason for Natasha to think that Clint was sent to find her that he was aware of. It meant that there had to be something else going on, and that made Clint worried. He wanted Natasha to be safe. Somehow, she became important to him, even though they had only met four times.
It was strange to care about someone so fast, especially when they barely knew each other. However, Clint usually was good at picking out the important people in his life quickly. As soon as he met Lucky and fed him pizza, he just knew that the dog was supposed to be in his life. He had that same gut feeling when he had met Natasha for the first time.
Not that he wanted her to be his pet. Definitely not. That was a kink he wasn’t willing to explore.
Anyway, what he meant was that he knew Natasha was a special person. Clint didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. He just really hoped that whatever was going on, that Natasha wasn’t in any danger.
Clint had work again the next day, and he wasn’t surprised to see Natasha in the afternoon. She had been right the first day when she said she had a coffee addiction. Clint was happy about it. It was what kept her coming to the shop.
“Medium black coffee?” he asked, and immediately winced. He was supposed to lay low and not show any signs of knowing her. He didn’t want to freak her out again.
Natasha stiffened. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” he responded nonchalantly, trying to play it off.
“Alright,” she said, looking slightly skeptical.
Clint poured her coffee and another one for himself too. He hoped that his luck continued and that they would have the shop to themselves again, at least for a little while so they could talk.
“Don’t you have work to do?” Natasha asked as Clint sat down on the stool across from her, behind his counter.
“Not at the moment. There’s a reason why I work here. I get to sit here and drink free coffee,” he told her.
“Smart,” she said. She glanced above Clint’s head, likely to read the menu. “A Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino sounds interesting.”
It had to be a coincidence. There was no way that she remembered. She hadn’t remembered anything that had happened between them yet.
“Yeah?” he asked, wanting to know more about what she was thinking.
“Have you ever asked someone not to order it?” she asked.
Clint tensed. It didn’t seem like it was much of a coincidence anymore. “Yeah, once.”
Natasha looked down at her mug, stirring a spoon in her coffee as she was deep in thought.
“I made one once. The person who ordered it said it wasn’t as bad as they expected it to be,” Clint told her, hoping that it would prompt her to remember more.
“Interesting. It looks like a pain in the ass to make,” she responded.
“Yeah, unless it’s for the right person.”
It slipped right out of Clint’s mouth. It was like he had no control over himself. Natasha didn’t seem to mind, thankfully. Clint couldn’t help but wonder if Natasha was regaining some memory back, but he didn’t want to be too hopeful. He wasn’t a scientist. He had no idea how amnesia worked, or if that was actually what was going on with Natasha.
Clint wondered if Natasha had any friends or family in the city, or if she was dealing with this amnesia on her own. He really hoped that she had someone. The thought of her going through this alone put an uncomfortable feeling in Clint’s chest.
“Thanks for the coffee, Clint, and the conversation,” Natasha said, handing Clint her empty cup.
“Feel free to stop by any time,” Clint told her.
She nodded with a soft grin before walking towards the door.
Clint really wanted her to remember to come back. Hopefully, her coffee addiction was strong enough for her to continue to come to the shop.
The next day, Clint didn’t have work. He took Lucky for another walk in the park. He wasn’t exactly seeking Natasha out. It was his and Lucky’s favorite park in the city. However, Clint definitely wouldn’t have been disappointed to see Natasha there. It was a stupid thing to wish for. She may not even remember the park. He was lucky that Natasha had remembered the coffee shop more than once.
When Clint didn’t see Natasha at the park, he wasn’t surprised. What were the chances of seeing her again on one of his days off?
With a deep breath of fresh air, Clint took a seat on the same bench that he had sat on with Natasha a few days prior. Lucky sat on the ground next to him and Clint was able to pet him behind his ears. Whenever Clint sat next to Lucky, he always made sure to sit on Lucky’s right side so the dog would be able to see him better. Lucky had lost his left eye, and Clint wanted to make sure that he was as comfortable as he could be.
Clint was distracted from his thoughts about his dog when he noticed someone with familiar red hair and captivating green eyes sat on the bench next to him.
“Come here often?” Clint asked Natasha.
“Maybe,” she replied.
“You like ballet?” Clint asked.
Natasha had a new book in her hand today, titled The Secrets of Ballet . Clint had no idea that she liked dance. It made sense that he didn’t know that. He had only known her for about a week, even though it felt like so much longer.
“I saw it on the shelf at the bookstore. I felt compelled to buy it,” she said.
Clint noticed that Natasha made no comment about his dog, which was a good thing. He was happy to not have to explain why it was normal to be in the park with his dog.
“Have I seen you here before?” Natasha asked.
It was unexpected, but Clint felt his heart flutter in his chest at the question. It was the first time Natasha had shown any sign of remembering him.
“Yeah, once. You met my dog and I a few days ago,” Clint told her.
Natasha hummed in response, beginning to flip through the pages of her book. It seemed like she thought Clint looked familiar, but she maybe didn’t remember their first meeting in the park. It was progress, and that was all that mattered to Clint. This, in addition to her remembering that the Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino was significant showed that she was slowly regaining some awareness of memories.
Clint just wished that he knew anything about who she really was. He wanted to help her. He didn’t even know if Natasha was aware that something was wrong. Clint wished that he could just ask her, but he knew that wouldn’t go well. She had gotten defensive with him before and he didn’t want to take his chances.
“I tried ballet once. I looked really silly in tights,” Clint said, hoping to lighten the mood.
Natasha let out a slight laugh. “Oh I could imagine.”
“Do you work?” Clint asked. He wanted to know more about her.
“Not right now,” she said. “Do you?”
She didn’t remember him from the coffee shop. That was okay. Clint didn’t exactly expect her to.
“I’m a barista,” he told her.
Her lips quirked. “So you make ridiculous frappuccinos and drinks like that?”
“I make a great Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino.”
She grinned. “I’ll have to try it one day.”
“Yeah, you definitely should. I work at Corner Coffee, only a few blocks from here,” he said. Clint wasn’t sure if that would help her remember, but it was worth a shot.
“Cool. I’ll come by tomorrow,” Natasha said as she started to prepare to leave.
“Wait,” Clint exclaimed without a plan. Natasha raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak. He had to think of something quickly. “Let me write down when my shift is and where the shop is. There are so many random cafes in the city. It’s easy to get confused.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop Clint from writing down the information on a random napkin he found in his pocket. When he was finished, he watched Natasha place the napkin in her jacket before making her way home or wherever she decided to go.
Clint was excited to see what would happen at work tomorrow. It was either going to unfold the mystery, or it would be a complete disaster.
The next day, Clint was counting the money in the register when he heard someone slam something on the counter in front of him. He jumped, completely startled. He was lucky that the pile of fives he was counting didn’t fall on the floor.
“What is this?” Natasha asked through gritted teeth. She had slammed an old napkin on the counter with Clint’s note on it.
Meet me at Corner Coffee tomorrow at 1:00. I’ll make you a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino.
-Clint from the park.
“I wrote that for you yesterday so you would remember to come meet me,” he said simply.
“Because you knew that I would forget,” Natasha said.
Clint winced. He had picked a poor choice of words. Natasha was smart; she figured him out.
“The park wasn’t the first time we’ve met,” she said. Clint would practically see the gears turning her head.
“It was our seventh,” Clint told her. There was no point in hiding it. Worst case, she would just forget again.
Natasha began to pace around the cafe. “You don’t even look familiar.”
That was a change from yesterday. At the park, she had asked him if they had met before. Her memories weren’t consistent from day to day. It was something that Clint had to make sure to take note of.
“You know that something’s wrong,” she mumbled. Clint felt relieved that she wasn’t unaware of her amnesia.
Clint took a deep breath. “I could tell.”
Natasha laughed, and Clint had no idea what was funny about the situation. “Something happened to me, Clint.”
Well, that was obvious.
“What happened?” Clint asked gently, taking a seat behind the counter. He wanted to make her feel comfortable. He wanted her to know that she could trust him if she needed someone to talk to.
“I don’t know you,” she said.
“So? You can trust me. I want to help. Besides, I owe you a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino.”
“I am curious about what a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino tastes like,” she said with a slight grin.
Clint didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d had one about a week ago.
Giving Natasha some time to herself, Clint began to make her drink. He had memorized how to make a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino, so he didn’t need to look in the recipe binder for instructions. He wanted to show Natasha that he cared, just in case she happened to remember any of their past encounters. Clint knew that he wouldn’t have put so much effort into memorizing how to make such a ridiculous drink for just anyone. Natasha was important to him, even though she couldn’t remember him from day to day.
It figures that Clint would like someone who couldn’t remember him. Things had never been easy for him. But Natasha was worth it.
“Here’s your Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino,” Clint said, placing the drink on the counter in front of Natasha.
Natasha raised an eyebrow. “This looks like a milkshake. Is this thing half whipped cream?”
Clint remembered calling it a milkshake when he made it for her the first time.
“What happened, Natasha?” Clint asked. He could tell she was stalling, but he also didn’t want to push.
“I don’t know.” Natasha let out a shaky breath. “I get flashes of things, memories I suppose. I think I had another life.”
Clint wished that he knew how to handle this. He had never been the type of person that people went to for advice. He had his own laundry list of problems. He wanted to help Natasha. He desperately wished that he could fix everything for her so she could be happy and safe, but he didn’t know how to do that and it was incredibly frustrating. Clint had no idea what to say, so he gave her a soft grin, hoping that would be enough to encourage her to continue.
“I know my name is Natasha. I have an apartment, but I don’t remember how I got here. It’s like someone set me up for this life, but I don’t know anything that happened before except for the small things that appear in my thoughts and dreams,” she explained.
“And you have trouble remembering things from day to day too, right?” Clint asked.
“I know I’ve been to this coffee shop before. I don’t remember ever seeing you here. There’s someone else who works here, right? He has a prosthetic arm.”
Clint wanted to roll his eyes. Of course she remembered Bucky, who was barely ever present for his shift, but she couldn’t remember Clint.
“It seems like some things stick,” Clint commented. “Yesterday, you thought that I looked familiar.”
“And today you look like a total stranger.” The words hurt more than Clint had expected them to. “I thought I was going crazy at first when I started remembering things.”
Clint wished that he could hold her hand -- that he could do anything to comfort her. “Do you have friends or family who you can ask?”
She shook her head no.
Natasha opened her purse and pulled out a notebook. “This is where I’ve written down things that I’ve remembered. It’s not much, but I keep adding to it.”
It seemed like Natasha was even more aware of everything than Clint had originally thought. She was able to tell what was an old memory, and what was new. It was encouraging to hear and Clint hoped that eventually, they would have more answers as to why Natasha didn’t have all of her memories in the first place.
“You haven’t opened it,” Natasha said quietly.
Clint shrugged. “You haven’t told me that I could.”
“I thought you’d be curious.”
“Oh, I definitely am,” Clint stressed. “But I’m not an asshole. Okay, maybe sometimes I am. I’m not going to invade your personal life without your permission.”
Natasha tilted her head to the side, staring at Clint with those captivating green eyes that hadn’t left his mind since the first time they had met. Clint wished that he could figure out what she was going on in her head. There were so many possibilities, and Clint had a feeling that he was at the center of it, which immediately made him feel self-conscious. Clint thought so highly of Natasha from the day that he had met her, but she hadn’t had the chance to develop any type of connection towards him. Having to give her a good impression every day felt like so much pressure that he could easily drown in.
“There’s a lot of shit in there,” she said, phrasing it like it was a warning.
“A lot of shit’s happened in my life too. Hit me.”
Natasha inhaled deeply as she opened the book to the first page. She took a moment to reread what she had written. As she read, Clint studied her face for any clues, but she remained expressionless. Natasha was a hard woman to read, but that was what made her so intriguing, and why Clint wanted to know who she was.
“The first thing I remembered was from my childhood. I woke up in bed with handcuffs around my wrists attaching them to the bed frame,” she told him.
Okay. Clint understood why it had sounded like Natasha was warning him. When she was a kid? Fuck. That’s some horrible shit, Clint thought.
“It kept happening, and it still does. When I wake up, I instinctively check my wrists. It feels like a phantom sensation, like it should be there.”
“Fuck,” Clint mumbled.
“Yep,” Natasha said, popping the ‘p.’
Clint couldn’t help but wonder why Natasha was sharing something so personal with him. He had known her for a week, but in her eyes, she had just met him. Under normal circumstances, Natasha didn’t seem like the type of person who liked to share details about her personal life. However, these circumstances were far from normal. It was always hard to predict how people would act in unfamiliar situations.
“I’m sorry,” he said. It would never fix everything.
“I thought it was a nightmare at first, but more memories help coming back. It took me weeks to realize they were memories and not something else in my head.” She looked down and took a sip from her straw of her drink, most likely to avoid eye contact. Clint figured he’d do the same if he was her.
He really hoped that somewhere, Natasha had some happy memories too.
“A few weeks later, I realized it wasn’t just me. I was in a room with at least twenty other girls,” she added.
“Fuck!” Clint repeated.
This was incredibly messed up. Natasha spent her childhood in one of the most horrible places ever. Not that Clint would want anyone to have that experience, but it literally brought a pain to his chest when he pictured a young Natasha with her wrists chained to her bed frame. It was absolutely fucked up.
It was the first time that growing up in the circus sounded like a good childhood.
“I remember some other things about that place. I can’t remember what it was called or where it was.”
“We can try to figure it out together, if that’s what you want,” Clint offered. He wanted to be supportive and to help her with anything she needed.
“I think I want that. I don’t want to drag you into this, though.”
Clint had been shoulders-deep into this since the moment he had met her, but he wasn’t ready to admit that out loud.
“What else do you remember?” Clint asked.
“It’s violent,” she muttered as two teenage girls walked into the shop. They were lucky that they were alone as long as they were.
The two girls both had their phones in hand, as they made their way to the counter. They wore matching school uniforms and most likely stopped at the cafe to get a coffee to go.
“Can I have a Wake the Duck Up?” the first girl asked.
“Same,” the other added quickly.
Natasha gave him an inquisitive look, clearly intrigued by the name of the drink. It’s the most popular drink ordered by teenage girls. When Clint had first heard the name of it, he automatically figured that it was listed in the “haha, you’re screwed” section of the recipe binder, but it was surprisingly in “easy drinks.” It was just an iced coffee with a shit ton of espresso with a mini rubber duck and a small umbrella with a rubber duck pattern placed on top.
Clint imagined them live-tweeting their trip to the shop as they prepared to post their drinks on their instagram stories. He tried to stifle a laugh at the thought. The attempt wasn’t successful, as evidenced by the glare on both of the girls’ faces. Clint could see Natasha smirking.
As Clint made the two drinks, he felt Natasha’s eyes on him. He didn’t mind. He liked being the center of her attention. She didn’t remember him from day to day, so he had to appreciate any moment that they spent together.
The teenagers left once they got their drinks, and Clint and Natasha were alone again. Clint hoped that the shop remained empty for a while.
“They got rubber ducks and I’m stuck with a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino?” Natasha asked.
“Hey, I worked hard on that drink. The recipe is two pages long.”
“ Охуе́ть,” she responded, and Clint had no idea if that was an actual word. “That’s another thing. Apparently I know Russian.”
“Oh?” Clint asked. That wasn’t something he had expected. “What does it mean?”
“Basically, it means holy shit,” she smirked.
Clint would have to memorize that. It may be useful.
“Can I have a rubber duck?” Natasha asked with a mischievous grin.
Clint snorted, unable to stop himself. “Of course.”
It only took a minute for him to find a rubber duck to present to her, and the smile on her face immediately made it worth it. Clint would give Natasha all of the rubber ducks if he could.
As much as Clint wanted to know more about Natasha’s memories, he decided that it was better to see her happy instead of asking her to tell him more. He had a feeling that Natasha didn’t spend enough time smiling, and this was probably good for her. It was good for Clint too.
“What are you going to name him?” Clint asked.
“Steve. It’s the first name that I thought of,” she told him.
Clint’s heart fluttered in his chest as she continued to smile. She was beautiful.
When Natasha had to go, Clint instantly missed her. There was no guarantee that she would come back, that she would remember him, or that he would ever see her again.
When Clint got off from work, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Natasha had told him. He rubbed his wrists just thinking about the image of her handcuffed to her bedframe. It was an absolutely inhumane thing for anyone to go through, and Clint wished that he could do anything to make her pain go away. He wished that he could give her answers as to why she had to go through that as a child, but he was stuck. There was nothing that he could do besides be there for her, if she remembered him or trusted him enough to continue talking to him about her memories.
Clint was lucky. Natasha came back to the cafe the next day.
“What is this?” Natasha asked, holding a napkin with a message for Clint to read. It was the napkin that he had given to her two days ago at the park.
“I gave that to you,” he told her. “I wanted to see you again.”
Natasha stared back at him with an intense gaze that made Clint feel restless.
“You’ve told me about your memory predicament. I’m here to help,” he told her in a gentle tone.
Natasha bit her lip as she opened her book. She scanned a couple of pages and Clint could only watch with a pit forming in his stomach.
“You gave me a rubber duck yesterday,” she said.
Clint smiled. “You named him Steve.”
“I told you about the handcuffs, and you gave me a rubber duck,” she said slowly, as if she was still trying to process what happened.
“Yeah. It made you smile, so that’s a win in my book,” he said before he could stop himself. He came off too strong.
“Oh.” She inhaled sharply, likely startled by Clint’s response. “Thanks.”
“Any time. Want a coffee? I can make a drink with a rubber duck, a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino, or anything you’d like.”
“I have written down that I enjoyed the Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino-” she paused to chuckle, “which sounds very hard to believe.”
Natasha hadn’t admitted out loud that she liked the frappuccino, but Clint’s suspicions were finally confirmed. He felt a tremendous amount of pride, knowing that he got Natasha to enjoy such a ridiculous drink. Clint would have to try it for himself someday.
Making Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccinos was muscle memory for Clint at this point. He had to make it just as good every time, because each time Natasha ordered one, it was like she was tasting it for the first time. Clint had to meet her expectations each time she drank one. When he presented the drink to Natasha, her eyes widened.
“That is a lot of whipped cream,” she commented. It was not the first time she said that.
“Do you want a muffin or something? I’ve never offered you food.”
“Sure,” she responded.
Clint made his way to the pastry section and looked through the options. “You seem like a chocolate person. I’m giving you chocolate chip.”
“Aren’t I supposed to choose which type of muffin I get?” she asked flatly.
Clint placed the chocolate chip muffin on the counter in front of her. “Under normal circumstances. I’m not what most people consider to be normal.”
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m not normal either,” she replied.
“You not remembering me after the first time we met kind of gave it away.”
His response earned a soft laugh from Natasha. “Was it that, or the handcuffs?”
“The handcuffs definitely didn’t help your case,” Clint said with a slight grin.
“It gets so much worse,” she said, a serious expression reappearing.
Clint sat down, placing his elbow on the counter and leaning his head against his hand. “Hit me.”
Natasha opened her book again, and Clint tried not to stare at her too intensely, but he was incredibly curious. He could only imagine what she had written in that book so far. How painful was it for her to read? When she remembered things, how real did they feel? Clint wished that he had met Natasha earlier on so he could be there for her as the memories resurfaced, holding her and telling her that she would be okay, and that she wasn’t alone.
Clint never wanted Natasha to feel alone.
Green eyes looked up and met Clint’s gaze, and the sight would never be less fascinating.
“I remember training for something as a child. I didn’t go to school with most children. I was given combat training,” she told him.
Clint already knew that Natasha’s upbringing was much different than a typical child’s, but he hadn’t expected combat training to be a part of her daily routine growing up. He figured that he shouldn’t try to predict anything that she was going to tell him. There was no point.
“I look at everything and my brain automatically tells me how I can use it as a weapon. It’s not on purpose.”
She didn’t show it, but Clint could tell that it scared her. He wanted to help her make that feeling go away.
“Are you a ninja?”
Natasha laughed, and Clint’s chest felt warm. “No. I don’t know what I was.”
“But how bout now?” Clint asked.
Natasha gave him a questioning look.
“It’s who you are now that counts,” Clint said with a shrug. “I wasn’t a child ninja, but I didn’t have the greatest childhood. Now, I’m a barista who makes great Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccinos.”
“I don’t know who I am now. That’s the problem, Clint,” she said as she tried, but failed to show her frustration.
“Hey, I’ve met you multiple times. You have a great sense of humor, and you’re a nice person. You’re really cool.”
‘You’re really cool.’ Clint wanted to punch himself because that was the best that he could come up with. Natasha was much more than just cool.
Natasha stood up, and it felt like a punch to Clint’s gut. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
Before Natasha had a chance to leave, Clint gently grabbed her hand. “I’m here for you, Natasha. Nothing’s too much for me to handle,” he told her, smiling softly. “You can trust me.”
Clint had a feeling that Natasha hadn’t had many people who she could trust in her life, even though neither of them could know for sure. It wasn’t fair, but they had to deal with what they got.
So Natasha told him more. She told him about her ballet training (which explained the book she’d had in the park), combating with her classmates, and all of the languages she knew. She said that she remembered killing people, but she never said that she wanted to. That was what made Clint’s heart break for her the most. She remembered things that she had done, but she couldn’t remember why.
Eventually, Clint’s shift ended and Natasha had to go, but they both made sure that she wrote what happened today in her notebook so they could resume their conversation the best that they can. Clint looked forward to it.
Before Natasha left, Clint gave her a hug. He wanted her to feel safe, even for just a moment.
Once again, Clint wished that there was anything he could do to find out more for her, but all that there was to do was wait.
Clint went back to work the next day, hardly able to keep his eyes off the door as he waited for his favorite redhead to walk in.
She never arrived.
It was the first time Natasha hadn’t visited the coffee shop during one of Clint’s shifts, and he felt lonely without her. It was a ridiculous thing to feel. They haven’t known each other for long. Bucky wasn’t exactly the best company, either. Clint had barely been in the same room as him since he started working there.
The shop felt cold without Natasha. It was most likely because Clint’s chest felt warm whenever he was near her.
By the end of the day, Clint was concerned. Natasha was addicted to coffee and she had written down in her notebook to come to the shop, so Clint knew that she hadn’t come because she had forgotten. There could have been something wrong, and Clint was scared.
He also had no idea why they didn’t just exchange numbers. Clint’s an idiot.
Not knowing where else to go, Clint went to the park where he had seen Natasha when his shift was over. It was his only chance of finding her.
Luckily, she was sitting on the bench. She didn’t have a book in hand this time. She was only staring out in front of her with the children playing on the playground as her only source of entertainment. Clint wished that he had brought Lucky. It would have been nice to introduce them properly.
“No coffee today?” Clint asked, sitting down next to her.
Natasha turned her head towards him, her green eyes not giving anything away. “You must be Clint. You look familiar.”
Well, that was a good sign.
“The one and only,” he said with a sheepish grin.
“You shouldn’t be talking to me,” she told him.
It stung much harder than Clint thought it would, and he didn’t even have an explanation yet.
“Oh?” he questioned.
“I remembered a lot more this morning. It’s not something that you want to know.”
“Try me,” he said softly. “I promise you I’ve heard worse.”
Natasha let out a sarcastic laugh before replying, “Oh, no, you definitely haven’t.”
Clint still thought she was wrong, but this was a rare time when he knew that he should keep his mouth shut.
“It was the KGB,” she told him, and then suddenly, things made a lot more sense. “I was an assassin.”
The weapons, the combat training, the Cold War book, the Russian swear words. The handcuffs. Clint hated how much sense it made.
Why couldn’t it have been anything else?
“I am not someone who you should be associated with, Clint.”
“Okay, maybe you have a point,” he said, and her face fell even though Clint can tell that she was trying not to show how she was feeling. “But that doesn’t mean that you can’t be someone who I want to be associated with.”
Natasha’s eyes widened, and Clint became entranced again by them. “What?”
“I like you, Natasha. Even if you don’t remember every time we’ve met, you still somehow managed to get me to like you. I still want to help you.”
“I can’t let you.”
Clint chuckled. “That’s not gonna stop me, Nat.”
So, it was settled. Clint wasn’t going anywhere.
Natasha came back to Corner Coffee the next day, and Clint wasn’t able to hide his smile when she walked through the door. She didn’t remember his face, but she did remember that she had tried a Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino before, so that was a win in Clint’s book. She ordered it again and Clint was thrilled about it.
“So how do you think you got here?” Clint asked before slurping from his own frappuccino. He finally gave in and tried the drink.
Natasha shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t remember anything after the KGB.”
Clint wanted her to remember something good, but it hadn’t happened yet.
“You will, one day. It may just take time,” he reassured her. “For now, we can have all of the Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccinos we want.”
She giggled, and Clint’s heart fluttered. “We may die of a sugar rush.”
“It would be a glorious death,” he responded in a dramatic tone.
When Natasha had to leave, Clint was sad, but he was confident that she would return the next day. They finally exchanged numbers so even if she forgot, Clint could text her.
“Ah, so you’ve met Natasha,” Bucky said, standing behind him.
Clint practically jumped a foot in the air at the sound of his voice, because Bucky rarely said anything to him. The man was practically a ghost.
“Yeah,” Clint told him. He was happy that he had met her.
“You know who she is?” Bucky asked before taking a long sip from his extra large cup of black coffee.
Clint froze, unable to take a breath. “You do?”
“Yeah, everyone does. I know you had a shitty resume but I didn’t think you lived under a rock.”
“What?” Clint asked through gritted teeth.
“She’s an Avenger! The Black Widow.”
Clint continued to feel like he couldn’t breathe. All this time, Natasha had no idea who she was, and it should have been easy for her to find out. She was part of a team, right? Where were they when she was alone and scared, not knowing anything about her life?
Nastasha was most likely sitting in her apartment, continuously running through everything she remembered about the Red Room and the KGB, thinking that she was nothing more than the assassin they had groomed her in to be. Thinking that she was a bad person.
But that wasn’t who she was. She was Natasha Romanoff, a badass superhero who helped save New York City from Loki and his alien reptile minions. She had dropped everything to join a fight where she had been outrageously outnumbered. And she thought that she wasn’t worth Clint’s company because in her mind, she was an ex-assassin for a corrupt organization.
Clint felt like he was going to throw up.
Throughout all of this, Bucky had never been anywhere to be found. The man was supposed to be an assistant manager of the coffee shop, but he rarely stayed in the building during Clint’s shifts. If he would have just shown up for at least five minutes, Clint and Natasha could have solved her mysterday a long time ago.
It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this situation was fair.
Clint couldn’t even begin to figure out how he was going to tell Natasha, but he knew that he had to do it soon. She had spent enough time on her own, confused and searching for answers. Clint wasn’t going to hold anything back from her like everyone else.
Perhaps someone had told her of her identity in the past, but she hadn’t remembered. Clint wasn’t too sure about that though, because Natasha’s book had too many pages written. Even though Clint wasn’t too knowledgeable about the Avengers, there had to have been someone who had recognized her somewhere. Maybe a kid at the park hoping for an autograph, or a teenager at the coffee shop.
Clint didn’t even finish his shift before he texted Natasha, asking to come over. He told her it was urgent, and she didn’t hesitate to text him back her address. He brought her another Twice Frothed Java Coffee Blast Frappuccino, hoping that it would help to make the reveal sound less earth-shattering, but he knew that it wouldn’t really change anything.
He really hoped that this wouldn’t break her. Natasha hadn’t broken yet.
When Natasha opened the door, her face immediately showed concern. Clint must have been doing a horrible job hiding his own fear. It wasn’t exactly his fault. Natasha was a fucking Avenger. The Black Widow. She was practically a legend, and she had absolutely no idea.
Natasha silently stepped aside, letting Clint in. He couldn’t even get himself to sit down. He was pacing around her coffee table as she stared at him, hands on her hips.
“Spit it out, Clint,” she said.
“I figured it out,” he told her. His breath hitches at the back of his throat. It feels like his voice had stopped working.
“Well?”
Natasha looked worried. Clint didn’t want her to worry. Even though the news was going to sound crazy to her, it was technically good news .
Clint stopped pacing. “You’re an Avenger. They call you the Black Widow.”
She tilted her head, but didn’t speak.
“They’re Earth’s mightiest heroes or something, I don’t know. I think that’s what Stark called you guys once. I saw an interview of him on a morning show when I had to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn to get to the shop.” He was rambling. He needed to slow down. “The point is, Nat, you are good. You are so good.”
Clint wanted to hug her, but he knew that would overwhelm her. She remained expressionless through Clint’s terrible explanation, but he knew that her thoughts have to have been going a mile a minute.
“I don’t get it,” she finally said.
Neither did Clint, but they had to work with it.
“Listen, I don’t really know anything about the Avengers, but I do know that they're all badass motherfuckers who have saved the world more than once,” Clint told her. “Look them up on Youtube or something.”
Clint could see Natasha’s hands trembling slightly. “I think I need a minute.”
He could understand that. Before leaving her apartment, Clint told her to call him at any time. He was scared to leave her alone, but he also wanted to give her space if she needed it.
On his way home, Clint picked up a pizza for himself because he didn’t know what else to do to occupy his time and his thoughts. He ate most of the pie himself and then he gave Lucky a slice, because he wasn’t a monster who let his dog starve while watching his owner eat human food.
Clint just wanted to know why Natasha had been left alone. That was bothering him more than the fact that she had lost her memories. Natasha had said that it felt like someone set her up for this life, but she didn’t know how she got there. Where were they? How could they leave Natasha alone?
Clint wanted to march right up to Avengers Tower and yell at each of them. Even though Thor and the Hulk could literally break him in half if they wanted to. Clint wasn’t scared.
After too many hours of watching Dog Cops while cuddling on the couch with Lucky, Clint was surprised to hear his phone buzz. It was nearly midnight and he had a text from Natasha, asking him to come over. Clint’s heels were hanging out of the back of his sneakers as he speed walked out of the door of his apartment. Natasha silently let him in when he arrived. Clint tried his best to read her facial expression, but he couldn’t get anything from her.
Natasha held a glass of red wine while sitting on the couch. Clint sat next to her and waited for her to speak. He had rambled to her enough today.
“I talked to Stark,” she said quietly, almost mumbling.
Clint felt all of his muscles tense. “What?”
“I went to his tower. It’s hard to miss,” she explained. It was an interesting coincidence, because Clint had just been thinking about going too.
“What did he say?” he asked her calmly. He didn’t feel calm, though.
“My memory was wiped on a mission,” she began to tell him, her voice sounding shaky. “We were infiltrating a HYDRA base and they wiped me.”
That didn’t explain why she was left alone after.
“HYDRA was an affiliate with the KGB and the Red Room. They wanted me back. The only way to keep me from them was to hide me in plain sight.”
Okay, so that definitely made Clint feel more at ease, but he still wasn’t happy about how it was handled. There had to have been something that they could have done to make her less confused and alone.
“Stark said that they have a sorcerer who has been working on a spell to bring my memories back. He should have it ready within the next few days.”
It was good news, so why did Clint feel like his heart was about to pound out of his chest? Suddenly, breathing became a lot more difficult, his chest aching with each exhale. Everything started to look blurry and the only thing keeping him grounded were Natasha’s vibrant green eyes, staring at him with concern.
“Clint,” she said slowly. “What’s happening?”
It was delayed, but Clint finally realized why he was freaking out so much. It was for an incredibly selfish reason.
He didn’t want to lose her.
“Do you want your memories back?” he asked, sounding more human.
The edges of her lips quirk up.“I suppose it would be nice to know that I want to order a ridiculous frappuccino when I go to the coffee shop.”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.”
“Something’s wrong,” she said. She hadn’t forgotten Clint’s freak out, unfortunately.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about, Nat,” he said, grinning slightly to reassure her. “I’m really happy that you’re finally getting the answers that you’ve been looking for. It must feel so nice to finally know.”
“It is.” She nods. “Something’s still wrong with you.”
Clint almost groaned in response. “It’s nothing. I’m happy.”
Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Clint.”
Clint sighed. He wasn’t going to get out of this one. “If you get your memories back, that means you’re going to get your old life back. Which is a good thing,” he stressed. He wanted her to know how happy he was for her. “But at the same time, I’ve really started to like you. I know you don’t remember all of the time we’ve spent together, but you’ve really made an impression, Nat.”
Natasha looks at him with kind eyes and Clint finds the strength to continue talking. “I just want to be a part of the life you’re getting back, if you’ll have me.”
Clint waited for her to say something back, but instead, she retrieved her book of memories from the end table and held it out for him to take. “You never ended up reading it.”
“You never told me I could,” he said. He had said it to her the first time she showed it to him.
“You can,” she told him, smiling gently.
Clint took the book and found that some pages were folded at the top. He decided to read those first.
It would be an understatement to say that he was surprised at what he found.
‘Met a nice man at the coffee shop today. He had a nice smile and made me a great drink, even though I wouldn’t admit it to him. Want to go back again.’
‘Talked to the barista at the coffee shop today. He was asking me questions. He was funny and had nice eyes. I remembered that I know archery.’
‘Saw the barista again. I like talking to him.’
‘Met a man at the park. He was kind and asked me to meet him at the coffee shop tomorrow. Is this the same barista? I wish I could remember.’
‘The barista’s name is Clint. I told him about my amnesia. He listened to me without judging my past. I feel comfortable talking to him.’
‘Clint has such a big heart.’
‘I told Clint about the Red Room. He still wants to help me. I don’t know why.’
‘I really like Clint. I want to remember him more. He deserves it.’
Clint read her words, written in an elegant script, over and over again. It took him time to process what he was reading. He hadn’t realized that Natasha had written about him almost every time they had met. Clint hadn’t even thought of the possibility.
“Oh, wow,” he said, because he couldn’t think of any other words.
Natasha leaned forwards and placed a gentle kiss on Clint’s lips. The moment that it happened, Clint felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. It was perfect.
“I may not remember every moment we’ve spent together, but I know that I want you in whatever life I’m given,” she told him sincerely.
And with that, Clint felt ready to take on the world with her.