Risk

Eighteen

James had tried several times to contact Natasha, but with no such luck. Her phone was heading straight to voicemail each time her pressed her name on his phone, and his texts were delivered but not read.

He tried to let it go, knowing she would probably be fine and normally not caring that she'd be out so late with friends. Yet, tonight he was uneasy. Instead he ended up checking snapchat to see if it gave him a clue to if she was still out or not.

It was the only social media he had her on, for obvious reasons, but he rarely went on it unless he got any notification from her. She currently had a few pictures of her night out on her story, consisting of several of lethal looking cocktails and a row of shots. He left it at that, but ended up noticing Maria has uploaded too, something she never did. He clicked the video, reading the caption -I'm the worst aunt in the world- as he watched the short clip, brow furrowed.

~~~
Natasha was sat on a low wall, bottom lip pouting as she kept her eyes shut and her head on Clint's shoulder who sat beside her. He held a bottle of water to her mouth, trying to encourage her to drink. "You have to drink something's that's not 30% ethanol, Tasha."

She murmured against the bottle, pushing it away from her lips and nuzzling her forehead to his neck.

"Tequila is not your friend. " He hiccuped, having to wrap his arm around Natasha to keep her upright even though he himself was swaying slightly. It worked with Maria's swaying camerawork.

"Feed her more fries, try and sober her up." She said, watching Clint trying to persuade Nat to eat.

"You're just guilty you encouraged this." Clint teased, causing Maria to laugh as he stopped paying attention to the fries he was trying to push against Natasha's lips.

"I've gotta keep pretending I'm young!" She argued, descending into more laughter as she watched Natasha. She had screwed up her face, at Clint's distracted attempt to feed her a fry, trying to push it away from her mouth but instead hitting the full pack of fries out of his hands unintentionally, scattering then across the ground.

Natasha finally opened her eyes at the noise, frowning down at the ground. "Awww Clinton," she slurred slightly the patronising nickname she knew Clint hated, lifting her head to look at him. "What did you drop your fries for? I'd have eaten them."

Maria laughed harder, Clint staring at Natasha with an incredulous look. "You are soooooo lucky I tolerate you."

She grinned sleepily up at him, saying nothing but patting his cheek affectionately before resting her head on his shoulder again, resuming her attempt to fall asleep while nestling into his neck.

"Where is that damn Uber." Maria complained, and the video ended there, returning him back to the normal homepage.
~~~

A stirring of distrust began in James' gut, an ugly beast growling with jealousy and discomfort that grew the longer she wasn't there to convince him otherwise.

***

When Natasha's memory finally started to return, she realised she was passed out on her bathroom floor, her body cold against its shiny tiles. She sat up, stretching out the ache from the awkward position she'd been in and immediately regretted moving so fast as her stomach lurched in protest. She spent the next 10 minutes vomiting up the remnants of alcohol from her system that she hadn't last night, clinging to the bowl as her body ached with the movement.

"How you've anything left in your system, I don't know." Came a mumble from behind her. Clint was laying in the bath, one leg hanging out over the edge and his arms folded around himself. He slowly sat up, looking just as bad as she felt.

She sat back, flushing the toilet and leaning against the wall and examining herself. She was in pyjama shorts and a tank top, displaying the bruises on her knees from kneeling on the hard floor all night and around her arms from being hoisted around in her drunk state.

"Maria needs a job where she gets out more and doesn't roll all her drinking days into one." She murmured sleepily, slowly easing up onto her feet and taking a moment to check her balance. She grabbed her toothbrush, cleaning her teeth for the longest amount of time

"She trained you to be the little party animal you are, but she didn't train you how to handle your alcohol." Clint teased her, letting his head fall back against the bath with a yawn as he stretched.

"Yeah yeah, I was a mess." She rolled her eyes, rinsing out her mouth once she was done. "So were you, I do remember your moves on the dance floor, obnoxious and obscene as always." She joked.

"You love my moves. A lot actually." He murmured cheekily.

"Keep telling yourself that." She smiles faintly, as she watched him ease himself out of the bath with a groan . "You should take my bed today, get a good rest and recover. You look like shit."

"Won't you need it? No offence Tasha, but you've looked better." He accepted the nudge she gave him in the ribs.

"I'll be back to my stunning self once I've showered." She assured. "Plus I need to got get my things from James."

"Works for me." Clint shrugged, rubbing his eyes. "But I'm not moving from it until you're home, so take your time."

"I'll do my best." She shook her head with a smile, shooing him out of the bathroom. "Speaking of showering, you should probably have one too. This place smells like vodka and regret."

"Is that an invitation to join you?" He smirked, not bothering to turn around as he heard he slam the bathroom door in response.

"Idiot." She breathed to herself, fighting the smile on her lips as she undressed.

***

"Oh!" Clint exclaimed, pointing towards Wanda as she walked through the door still in last nights clothes. "How nice of you to join us!"

Natasha smirked as she pulled her coat on, feeling only a little more human than before. "Was your little course mate crush one night stand everything you wanted it to be?"

"Don't mock me," she grumbled, dumping her bag on the nearest chair. "He was very sweet, and lovely."

"How boring," Natasha sighed playfully, making Clint laugh. Wanda narrowed her eyes at her.

"I hope you enjoy your hangover." She murmured ruefully, but accepted Natasha's hug as she prepared to leave. "What about you two? What did you get up to?"

"Maria and Clint had to haul me home, physically drag me out an Uber and up here. " Natasha shrugged a little. "Then I fell into bed and woke to
violently vomit up tequila."

"It was Budapest all over again." He groaned, burying his face in the sofa.