Winter's Widow

Chapter 127: What Could Have Been...

Not cannon to this story, the idea just popped in my head an I felt like writing it. I repeat, this chapter is NOT CANNON to this story. Just for shits and giggles, and what could have happened when the group found out about them.

Natasha's pov:

All of us Avengers are hanging out in the living room right now just having a good time. I notice Clint who is next to me gazing down at my neck. He has a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"Hey Natasha..." Clint announces.

People turn their attention to us.

"You know there's a reason they call me Hawkeye, right?" His smirk doesn't fade for anyone.

"...Why?" I arch an eyebrow

"Because I'm deaf, Natasha. My eyes make up for that. My eyesight is 20/8. I notice things others don't see." Clint is up to something I feel it.

"Your point?"

"How long did you think you could hide those hickeys under that thin layer of makeup?"

Fuck.

"How long did you think you'd have to live after saying that?" I retaliate.

"Not long, still worth it."

I see the surprised eyes around the room.

"So Natasha, I know you didn't leave the tower last night. I would have known. I'm your best friend, and a fellow assassin." Clint rants.

"What about it?" I speak in a sour tone.

"That means that whoever gave you that, had to have been in the tower after hours. Only Avengers are allowed to stay after hours. You know what that means, right?" Clint smiles brighter than before.

I give him a mean glare.

"Whoever did that is in this room right now. Minus Wanda and Vision. Even still, it couldn't be either of them because they're in a relationship and are very loyal. So yes, someone in this room." Clint states proudly.

I let out an exasperated sigh.

"Clint I'm going to stab you with the knife in my pocket."

"Of course, but before you do that, we have to know. Who did it Natasha?" Clint looks so excited.

"And why would I tell you that?" I cock my head.

"I'll figure it out here and now using process of elimination."

"Is that so?" I smirk.

"It can't have been Tony, he has Pepper. Steve is probably too innocent, so I doubt it was him. Doesn't mean he's off the hook yet." Clint glares at Steve, who looks confused and inoccent as shit.

"It can't have been me, because I would remember. Probably. Unless I was blackout drunk...Was it me?" He looks at me innocently.

"No, Clint. It wasn't you." I give him a slightly sad look.

"Didn't think so. It can't have been Sam, he would brag about it."

"I'd like to meet the man who wouldn't brag." Sam crosses his arms in defense.

Clint thinks for a moment. Then, he smirks.

"Hey, Natasha?" He's got that evil grin.

"What?"

"You know that moment when you come home and see the trashcan ripped open, and then you see the dog with a super guilty look on it's face? #relatablemoment?" Clint crosses his arms.

"...Yeah?" I narrow my eyes.

"Then, riddle me this...Why does Bucky have that guilty puppy look on his face?" Clint turns my head to Bucky.

Bucky can't keep eye contact with me or Clint. He does have a guilty look. Dammit. He keeps looking between me and Clint.

"...No." Bucky mumbles.

"Uh oh...I think we found our culprit..." Clint raises his eyebrows.

"Nope." Bucky is short with words.

Bucky totally looks guilty, and I bet even Steve could see that. Bucky stands and starts backing out of the room. He turns around and just fucking leaves the room. Subtle.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Clint calls to Bucky.

No response. Sergeant Barnes, over and out.

"No, get back here! What do you have to say for yourself!" Clint shouts to Bucky.

...

"...Dayum!" Clint forces out.

"...W-what?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"No fucking way...That one?" Clint looks shook.

"Nope."

"Bullshit. He got up and just fucking left. It was him. But why? Why did you pick that one? Of all the people in this room, you chose that one?"

"...Yeah." I stare down at my lap guiltily.

"I thought you had higher standards!" Clint crosses his arms.

"...I like the killer hobo..." I mumble.

"...Why? Why defend the guilty party?"

"...I don't know..." I mutter in response.

"...Natasha, he's scary. He doesn't scare you at all?" Clint arches an eyebrow.

"I'm the Black Widow, nothing scares me, and certainly not that sweetheart." I roll my eyes.

"...Natasha. What do you have to say for yourself."

"...He's hot, ok?"