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#13
JAN 14 |
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“Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me”
August 17, 1972
Spies and superheroes are not supposed to keep diaries or journals; too many secrets. But Dane suggested I keep one, at least temporarily, until I’ve sorted out this whole Ivan Petrovich situation.
It was two months ago that I first learned that, after all these years, Ivan was looking to defect to the U.S. That was itself two weeks after he had first made contact with the State Department…but the State Dept and I have not been on the best of terms for a while now, so I suppose I understand why I had to learn this through other channels. After a few days of wrangling favors owed, Clint and I were not only allowed to see Ivan, but to bring him home with us as our houseguest until the State Dept decides what to do about his request for asylum.
But that brings us to the question the rest of the Avengers keep asking me – why defect now? Is there some secret agenda? Is Ivan here to spy on us? It’s certainly possible – we were both spies! And since Clint and I are Avengers, there’s a whole world of other possibilities to consider. Is someone mind-controlling him? Is he a robot duplicate? An alien shape-shifter? A man wearing a very good mask? So I’m going to use this to help me keep track of his movements, my observations and anything that might be off about the man I once thought of like a second father.
I don’t remember Ivan ever being an early riser, but he was up before 10 am today. I had just gotten Yelena to settle down for a feeding and unbuttoned my blouse when he walked in from the kitchen.
“Ya sozhaleyu,” Ivan said as he put his hand up over his face and turned to walk back into the kitchen. He was dressed for the day already in a blue and white polka dot shirt and blue jeans, though he had said nothing about having plans to go anywhere today the night before.
“No, it’s okay. Stay. Just no Russian, remember? It makes Clint nervous.”
Ivan stayed where he was, but kept his head turned away.
“I was actually hoping you were up,” Natasha continued. “I’m supposed to be getting into costume and heading down to the basement to train with Clint. After Yelena is done – ow, not so hard! – I was hoping you would watch her for an hour or so.”
“Of course. I would be happy to do so,” Ivan said.
“It’s important that I get back into shape,” Natasha continued. Yelena was burping on her shoulder now. “I’ve got 10 more pounds of baby fat to burn off and I’m so out of practice. There…I think you’re done, right honey?” she asked Yelena, holding her baby up in front of her and smiling at her. Yelena gave an adorable baby smile back and wiggled her legs. “You be good for Uncle Ivan.”
“Can I still smoke?” Ivan asked as she was handing Yelena over.
“Not while you’re holding her, please. If you need a smoke, put her in her crib. You don’t have to hold her if she’s sitting on the couch beside you. See if any cartoons are on TV, she loves those.”
Natasha almost raced from the living room to the bedrooms, tossing off her lime green and red plaid blouse and matching skirt as fast as she could get them off. Despite the scale saying she was 10 pounds heavy, she still clung to the hope it was muscle weight and she would fit back into her costume just fine. And by costume she was thinking of her old, original one – the fishnet body stocking with black leotards over it. The skin-tight leather jumpsuit…she was afraid to try that one on just yet.
She was halfway done pulling the stocking up over herself when she was surprised by Clint’s voice from the doorway.
“Hey gorgeous! I…say, you are looking gorgeous…” Clint said hungrily as he sauntered in towards her in his Hawkeye costume.
“Oh, Avenger, I didn’t know you missed this costume…” Natasha said in her sexy voice. She put out her arms as Clint came towards her and she wrapped them around his shoulders. They kissed and…
Fifteen minutes later, Natasha was adjusting her costume again as she and Clint ran past the living room toward the stairs to the basement. It was so tight over her chest now it was uncomfortable. She saw Ivan and Yelena on the couch, watching television together. “Sorry, Ivan, we’re just heading downstairs now!” Before Ivan could say anything, Clint and Natasha ran down the stairs, smiling stupidly like they were a pair of teenagers sneaking around.
The basement of the new Barton home, except for the laundry room in the corner, had been converted into a gym. They had not had a gym in the old house, preferring to use the facilities at Avengers Mansion, but ever since the pregnancy they knew that Natasha would be home more and would need to be able to work out here. It had gymnastic equipment, a punching bag and rubber floor mats – all mundane fare a normal couple could have afforded to put in their basement.
“So, jiu-jitsu, boxing or freestyle?” Natasha asked as they stepped onto the mats. Natasha was ready for freestyle; Clint was 90% predictable and always preferred freestyle. It played to his strengths and was the only time he was ever wildly unpredictable.
“Oh, you can pick…” Clint said. “We haven’t done straight jiu-jitsu in a while…”
“No, freestyle would be fine.” As surprised as Natasha was by Clint’s offer, she realized she should not be; this was just like last night when Clint had asked her what she wanted for dinner. She ran through her usual mental list of ulterior motives for Clint as she assumed a defensive position and then launched into her attacks. She started with a feint that would look like she was going into a roundhouse kick, but then shifted into an elbow strike halfway through. For a moment, she was blinded by her own hair.
She had always worn her hair long, but it had been months since she last had it cut and it was now halfway down her back. She knew she would have to get it cut shorter before heading back into combat situations, though she had not yet decided how short. Above the shoulder would be safer, or perhaps she could just keep it in a long braid. Clint loved it long.
Clint, meanwhile, was supposed to take the bait and go for an arm hold to counter her elbow strike, so she could, in turn, flip him, but Clint knew her way too well to fall for that and did not even try for the arm hold. Instead he went to his favorite, jab feints to put her on the defensive. Instead of falling back she stepped closer, but leaned back to avoid the jab. At closer range, though, she could kick up and hook her left foot behind his right knee and try to pull him off-balance. Clint took the bait this time, grabbed for her leg to pull her off-balance with him. Natasha let him hold her left foot so she could kick up, twist around as she gained altitude and go for a chest kick with her free leg. But again she was too slow and Clint saw it coming, this time disengaging and tumbling backwards to avoid the chest kick.
“Whoa!” Clint cried as he tumbled and she did not blame him. It had been a more aggressive maneuver than they normally used in practice, but she had lost the last two sparring sessions and was eager to prove herself.
“Sorry,” Natasha found herself saying and she paused to give Clint time to get back on his feet. But Clint spun around for a sweep kick instead. Natasha easily jumped over his leg and swung her leg up to connect with the side of Clint’s head, though pulling back enough not to hurt him. “You okay?” she immediately asked afterwards.
“You know…” Clint said, pulling himself up to a sitting position, “sparring practice is less effective if you keep stopping to ask if I’m okay.” He raised his hand for her to grab and help him to his feet.
“I’m sorry, I’m just not in it today,” Natasha said as she took his hand. And it was true – the moment she thought she might have hurt Clint the aggression just drained right out of her.
“I know what you’re into from earlier,” Clint said, pulling her down to him and giving her a kiss.
Natasha did not resist, but allowed herself to be pulled down onto the floor.
Thirty minutes later, Clint and Natasha came back upstairs, panting heavily. Clint went to the kitchen to get them water to drink, as they were both feeling dehydrated after their revised workout.
“How did that go?” Ivan asked.
“Great,” she said, which was true enough. She noticed some ash in the ashtray that was not there before and a whiff of air freshener in the air, but kept it to herself. “And how are you doing, my little rebenok?” Natasha asked, squatting down in front of Yelena on the couch and playing with her toes.
“I think she needs some daddy-daughter time!” Clint said, handing off a glass of water to his wife as he scooped Yelena up off the couch. Though he had a good grip on her, he spun her around the room with mock-carelessness. “Oh, look at that! I think our daughter’s going to be able to fly! Oh, but she’s got no sense of direction! She’s flying randomly in circles! Look, it’s Ultron! Take that, Ultron!” he said as he pretended to make her fly into the back of an empty chair. “Oh no, now she’s turning on me!” he added as he rolled onto the ground, hoisting a giggling, wiggling daughter up over his face.
“If you don’t need me, I’ll be steppink’ out for a bit,” Ivan said, getting up to leave.
Natasha nodded to let Ivan know she had heard him, but she was smiling and watching Clint from the couch while still holding her half-finished glass of water in her hand. She loved watching how good he was with Yelena.
However, as soon as Ivan was out of the house, Clint stopped giving Yelena tummy-kisses and said, “I don’t fully trust Ivan, you know,” in a low voice.
“Don’t be silly,” Natasha said in an equally low voice. “He’s just going outside to finish his smoke. You know, lots of parents let people smoke around their babies.” Natasha recalled how hard giving up smoking had been for her, but she had done that back in ’69 because it was giving her shortness of breath and not because Clint had insisted.
“Not my baby,” Clint said defensively. “But it’s not just that. You know, I still can’t find my Avengers phone. What if he took it?”
Natasha sighed. “You said yourself phones were meant to have cords so you don’t lose them. I’ll help you look for it later. I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” She sat down her glass on a coaster and got up to leave.
“Are you going to look for it now?”
“No.”
“Are you making me something to eat?”
“Soon. I’ll be right back…”
Natasha wrote more in her journal.
Clint doesn’t trust Ivan, but Clint is suspicious of everyone. Ivan isn’t being 100% honest with me, but it might just be trivial things like sneaking a smoke around Yelena.
She lay there, thinking about what to write a while longer before inscribing:
I’m afraid I’ve lost my edge. I’ve been awful, as uncoordinated as a raw recruit, in practice with Clint for three days in a row now.
She stared at those words until she heard a knock on her open door. Looking up, she saw it was Ivan. She closed her book with purposeful casualness.
“May I speak to you? Privately?” Ivan asked, hesitantly.
“Sure. Come in,” Natasha said. She sat up on the edge of the bed. If she was aware that she was still wearing her old lingerie-like costume, she did not seem to notice.
“I…feel there is some,” Ivan stammered awkwardly, “…oh, what’s the word? Discomfort I am causink’ in your home.”
“No. No, that’s not it at all,” Natasha lied, standing up and resting her hand on Ivan’s arm.
“You are sure your husband does not mind havink’ ex-KGB as a houseguest?”
“Don’t forget that I’m ex-KGB too and he’s crazy about me.”
“Da…yes, I can see that. But…” and here Ivan looked away, as if unsure he should speak.
“No,” Natasha said, holding Ivan where he was before he could turn away. “What is it?”
“I am just thinkink’ that what I am seeink’ here is a happy American housewife and not at all the ruthless spy I knew. I do not see the fire of Natasha Romanova.”
Natasha started to protest but then relaxed, pulling her hand away from his arm. How interesting, she thought, that she had been watching him to make sure he was the real Ivan, and here he was questioning her identity. She sighed. “No, you’re right. Can I…can I confide in you about something?”
“Of course you can. I hope you still think of me like I am beink’ family. You can tell me anythink’.”
“It’s Clint,” Natasha said quietly. “I respected him as Hawkeye, as an Avenger, before I fell in love with him. But as just Clint Batson…well, there was frankly never that much attraction there. But now, the way he’s become such a good father? And how good he is with Yelena? And more attentive to my needs. When I see that I’m just so…attracted to him. It’s powerful, you know, how turned on I–”
“Ah, I just remembered there was somethink’ I need to be doink’….” Ivan said as he flushed red and ran out of the room.
“Ivan – wait!” Natasha said as she chased after him.
The chase led back through the house to the living room where Clint, still in his Hawkeye uniform but without his mask, was patting Yelena on the back. “Hey, you two!” he said and then to Natasha alone he said, “I thought he was outside? Never mind.” When he saw Ivan was about to leave, he added, “Hey, hey, come back. Natasha, did you talk to him about…?”
“What?” Natasha asked, suddenly exasperated.
“You know…” Clint said, trying to be subtle. But when that was not working, he handed off Yelena to Natasha and turned on Ivan. “She was going to ask you if you’ve seen a special phone lying around here. It’s like one of those brand new cellular phones, but smaller.”
“And you think I have it?” Ivan asked.
“No, no he doesn’t think that,” Natasha interjected, stepping between the two men while still holding Yelena to her chest.
“Well, actually…” Clint began.
“I have it,” Natasha said. She closed her eyes and listened to the awkward pause around her. “I hid it. Two days ago. It’s in my closet.”
“What?” Clint asked. “All this time you let me think Ivan was up to no good? And what if there was an emergency and I was needed on Avengers business?”
“Oh please, you didn’t even know it was missing until today. I’ve been checking my phone for emergency messages the past two days. And ever since we gave our emergency numbers to the Fantastic Four, half your calls have just been invitations to Ben Grimm’s poker nights.”
“It’s important to be a part of the superhero community in non-emergencies too,” Clint said, annoyed to be revisiting this argument. “Now why on Earth did you take it? I haven’t even been losing that much.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s…I’ve just really liked this, you know? Us being home together. You and me and Yelena…and even Ivan.”
“How is Ivan family?”
“He’s like family to me! And like a godfather to Yelena. In fact, would you like to be her godfather, Ivan?”
“I’d be honored.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Clint said. “So, hiding my phone, being s-- ….being sexy,” he said in an awkward tone, uncomfortable saying the word in front of both Ivan and Yelena. “It was all to get me to stay home more often?”
“No, that’s –” Natasha started to protest, but Yelena was disturbed by the harsh tones coming from her father and started to wail.
Clint took Yelena who immediately started to calm down. This was, of course, because her father was calming down, but to Natasha it felt like they were siding against her.
“We’ll be playing with dolls. For a long time,” Clint said coldly as he stalked off to Yelena’s room.
Natasha, alone now in the living room with Ivan, looked down and avoided his gaze.
“I must say,” Ivan said at last, after lighting up another cigarette, “I may not have seen the old fire of Natasha Romanova in you before…but using sex to get results? Now that is the spy I remembered.”
Natasha did not try to protest this time. Instead she just left and wandered back to the bedrooms at the rear of the house. She heard Clint in Yelena’s room, making her laugh by talking for her stuffed animals. She smiled, still endeared to it, but not turned on by it this time. She returned to the master bedroom and saw she had left her journal sitting closed on the bed. She flipped it open to where she had left off, found the pencil she had been using earlier, and added:
Tomorrow, I kick his butt in practice.
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To Be Continued...
Next: In Black Widow #14: The Sentinels have returned, the Avengers need information and Black Widow turns to the X-Men for help. Find out where the X-Men fit into the 1970s-verse in “I’ll Take You There”!
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