This Is The Life

She was a creature of habit if said creature was an endlessly patient predator and the habit was learning everything about her prey with meticulous precision before she executed the kill. And it seemed like this prey, this alpha, was a man of set routines. He got up every morning at 7 am, went for a run, returned home, and left for work exactly at 7:50. He dressed in nondescript yet pristine suits and moved with a determination that spoke of confidence and self-knowledge.

She had been monitoring him for weeks now, ever since she’d caught Clint’s scent drifting in the air. She’d been nearly overwhelmed by the sheer need to find him and protect him, to make up for her mistake and failure from years back. She’d almost tackled the alpha there and then but she’d reined her urge in and decided to wait. Knowing one’s enemy had proved to be a working strategy in the past and there was no need to change it.

But now, she felt like her time had come.

Silently, she slipped out of the shadows and followed the alpha, keeping her distance and hiding behind drowsy people getting their morning papers and soy lattes. She hung back when the alpha stopped for his customary paper and used the opportunity to check her knives one more time. She knew they were in place and in perfect condition but it was a…habit. A good luck charm.

She’d trained herself off from most habits but this was one she let herself keep.

Satisfied, she started forward again only to face an empty street when she rounded the corner. Annoyed, she let her lips press together in a tight line—and then she felt a gun against her side.

”I think we need to talk,” the alpha said mildly. ”Would you like to join me for a coffee?”

She could’ve disarmed and incapacitated him in seconds, but she decided to play along. ”Only if you’re buying,” she answered sweetly.

”Of course,” the alpha said. The pressure of the gunpoint vanished and the alpha stepped into her line of sight, the lines of his suit offering no clues of where he’d put it. Despite herself, she was impressed.

He cocked his head, a faint smile on his lips. ”I have to admit, I’ve been waiting for you to make your move,” he said. 

She didn’t say anything.

The alpha watched her intently for a moment and seemed to reach a conclusion. ”I’m going to make a phone call,” he said in that mild tone, tucked his hand carefully into his breast pocket, and took out a nondescript smartphone. ”See?” he asked before tapping the screen. ”Nick? I’m going to be late today. Something’s come up. Nothing you need to worry about. No, Clint’s fine.” He paused and gave her a sideways glance. ”He has a visitor but this time I think it’ll be a welcomed one.”

She raised a brow. ’This time?’ She didn’t like the sound of that.

After a couple of more polite words, the alpha ended the call and slowly pocketed the phone. ”I changed my mind,” he said, something sharp in his eyes. 

”Oh?”

”Yes. How about I take you home instead?”

She shrugged. ”It’s all the same to me,” she said, earning another faint smile. She had the strangest feeling the alpha was humoring her and she wasn’t sure what to think about that. If nothing else, it was a novelty.

He inclined his head and raised a brow. ”I assume you know the way, considering you’ve been following me for the past couple of weeks.”

She smirked, turned around, and started walking to his building. In the silence of her mind, she couldn’t quite deny she was impressed, though: getting a drop on her was rare and being aware of her surveillance tactics perhaps even more so. Whoever this alpha was, he was good.

She just hoped he was good to Clint, too.

The apartment building Clint and his alpha lived in was one of SHIELD Security’s, just as bland from the inside as it was from the outside. Plain walls, a clean stairwell, sturdy apartment doors without letterboxes. She’d only checked it superficially from the outside, not because she was wary about SHIELD, but because she hadn’t had the chance to hack into their security camera feed yet.

They stopped at a sturdy door on the third floor and the alpha knocked a sharp pattern on it before opening it. ”Clint? Everything’s fine, it’s me. There’s someone you should meet.” He beckoned at her to follow and closed the door behind her.

As she stepped in, she took a practiced look around. The colors were warm, the couch looked plush and inviting, and there was a rather efficient looking alarm system interface mounted on the wall by the door. She didn’t really care about interior design but a proper alarm system was a thing she could appreciate. But even more interesting was the one-eyed dog that walked slowly toward her before sitting down and giving her an oddly judging look. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

She heard rustling and then Clint walked out from a room from the left—apparently kitchen, considering he was covered in flour—and stopped as if being hit, staring at her with a stupefied look on his face.

”Surprise,” she said and waved.

The alpha was Phil Coulson, one of SHIELD Security’s senior staff, a former Ranger and an emergency alpha, and utterly, unashamedly in love with Clint. The dog, Lucky, was likewise dedicated to Clint and just as blatant in his displays of affection.

”I need to go to work,” Phil said after a brief round of introductions that consisted more of him talking and her raising her eyebrow. ”Is that alright?” He made it sound like a general question but she knew he was only interested in Clint’s answer.

Clint rolled his eyes and waved his hand, billowing flour all over the place. ”Yeah, yeah,” he whispered. ”Go. Shoo.”

Phil brushed flour from his jacket and then spoiled the effort with nuzzling Clint close. ”Okay. I’ll be going. Text me if you need anything.” 

Phil gave Clint a brief kiss and brushed his nose against his temple. That wasn’t a surprise—alphas liked to scent mark their omegas—but what did throw her a bit was when Phil tilted his head slightly and Clint nuzzled the side of his neck. It wasn’t common for alphas to allow being blatantly scent marked outside the courting period or heat cycle and even then it was usually more about show than equality. This, though? This looked like deep, mutual affection. 

She liked it.

”It was nice meeting you,” Phil said before he left. ”I hope we’ll have time to talk more some other time when I’m not requested to herd…certain individuals.” Something in his voice hinted it was more of a demand than mere politeness.

Clint snorted and Phil rolled his eyes. Clearly, it was an old inside joke.

It made her feel lighter.

”I’d like that,” she answered and realized she meant it.

”So… cookies?”

They were sitting at the kitchen table, eating the cookies and drinking coffee. The cookies were crispy on the outside and soft and gooey on the inside and even though they were slightly too sweet for her, she was on her fourth cookie already. Perhaps it was the easy, warm feel in the small kitchen or the relaxed way Clint moved around. 

Clint grinned. ”Phil taught me,” he whispered. ”He’s the one who knows what to do in the kitchen.”

”And what do you provide?”

”Good looks and A+ company,” he said and winked.

She rolled her eyes and huffed. 

Clint was slouched in his chair, wafting an earthy, happy scent she didn’t remember from before. Of course, the before had been mostly constant fear and being on the run so all of…this was a novelty to her. And even though his scent didn’t affect her the way it did others (and she probably didn’t even smell it properly), she still enjoyed it. Mostly because it was Clint. She’d never imagined she’d have the chance to see him this content.

”Are you happy?” She asked quietly.

Clint grew serious and set down his cookie. He cocked his head and gave her a long, somber look, the kind that had somehow always managed to cut through her carefully crafted layers. From the moment she’d seen him shivering on the side of the road, he’d been her weak point, able to reach inside, to the place she thought was long shriveled up and died.

Now, she realized it wasn’t.

”Yeah,” Clint whispered. ”Yeah, I really am.”

She leaned her elbows on the table and said, ”Tell me.”

Clint shrugged and scrunched his nose, scratched at a dried piece of dough on his left thumb. ”Phil’s…” he started and drifted away. ”He’s my home,” he finally said. ”He makes me feel good just as I am. Even if fuck up, he doesn’t get angry. And when he screws up, he apologizes and explains why. He doesn’t push me or boss me, but he lets me know if I’m doing some stupid shit. I’m his.” He paused, something like awe in his eyes. ”And he’s mine.”

She pondered it for a moment and then nodded graciously. ”I’ll accept it, for now.” She couldn’t make up her mind yet because she didn’t have all the information.

”Gee, thanks,” Clint said and rolled his eyes but his cheeks were dusted with pink. 

She reached out and gripped his wrist. She needed to make him understand, to hear her. ”I know I don’t have the right,” she said in a low, intense voice, ”but you are important to me. I couldn’t protect you before, let me do this for you now.”

Clint stared at her with his eyes wide, glanced down at her white-knuckled grip, and nodded slowly. ”I get it,” he whispered. ”Thank you, Natashenka.”

She nodded and retracted her hand. ”You’re welcome,” she said. ”So, what’s his story?” She asked after a short moment, pointing at the dog staring adoringly at Clint. Or perhaps he was staring at the cookies? It was hard to tell what with the one eye and such.

She watched him closely as he launched into an enthusiastic narration of how he’d found Lucky, how they learned each other’s ways and all the things that made him such a good boy. The mutt preened under the praise and she found herself smiling at Clint’s bright eyes and the way his hoarse whispers broke with excitement.

Clint’s story was interrupted when his phone chimed. He checked the text, snorted, and showed her the recent texts from someone called bck.

>>my sweet summer raisin cupcake with frosting in places I don’t wanna know, where the fuck are you? practice, man! get your ass here

Clint sent them back a finger and what seemed like an explosion of glitter? If the texts above it were anything to go by, this seemed to be their and Clint’s standard way of communication.

”Come on!” Clint said with a slightly maniacal grin. ”I’ll show you the gym.” 

He packed a dozen cookies in a container, gave a half-assed attempt to smooth out his hair, and whistled softly at Lucky. Another text and an almost-tumble down the stairs thanks to the enthusiastic Lucky and a tangled leash, and they were on their way.

On the outside, The Howler was nothing special but as soon as they entered, a warm cozy feeling embraced her like a soft blanket. The first person they saw was a blond alpha who barely spared them a glance before kneeling down to meet Lucky who practically jumped in his arms. The dog almost squirmed out of his fur as he tried to lick the alpha all over while he giggled helplessly. If the indulgent grin Clint was wearing was anything to go by, this was a common occurrence.

”Lucky, down boy, stop it—” he tried to chide, only for Lucky to renew his efforts to tell the alpha just how very good boy he was.

”Yeah, nice to see you too, you one-eyed terror,” a grumpy voice said from slightly behind her. 

She didn’t jump because she’d trained herself out of it long ago, but she went on high alert. Someone had managed to sneak up on her, again. Clint kept a dangerous company nowadays. Carefully, she turned her head to get a better look at the man and her eyes widened. 

Clint let out a sharp whistle to get their attention. ”Guys, I brought a friend. Steve, Buck, this is—”

”Natalia?” The man said.

”James?” She asked at the same time.

After a moment of stunned silence, Clint muttered, ”Well, fuck. I guess you know each other then?”

It was clear this James was no longer the man she’d known back in the— well. Back then. He was healthier, more grounded, and mostly because of his mate. He also seemed to have a purpose, a different kind of determination than she remembered. She was glad.

She sat on the wooden bench on by the wall, watching James and Clint go through their warming up routine, a cup of tea cradled in his hands. It was a quite nice Russian blend, robust and slightly smoky. She wondered if James remembered her talking about it when she was trying to keep him conscious or if it was just a coincidence.

Steve sat beside her and offered her another cookie from Clint’s container. She declined and he nodded, took one, and set the container on the bench between them. Lucky was on his back at his feet, snoring away. His legs twitched every now and then and his nose scrunched like he was smelling something special. Perhaps it was just the cookies.

”I should thank you,” Steve said without looking at her. ”When I got the word that he was MIA in Afghanistan, I was pretty sure I’d never get him back.” He paused. ”I’m sure you know what they used to do to mated alphas? Especially if they’re unconventionally mated.”

She let out an agreeing sound.

”I was just so goddamn relieved and happy when they found him,” Steve continued. ”I didn’t give a fuck about his arm, no matter what he thought. We’d been through too much for something as superficial as that to matter.

”He had nightmares—still has. He used to be really silent at first but after a couple of months, he started calling out to you.” Steve gave her a small smile, just an upturn of the corner of his mouth. ”He refused to talk about it but after some time…” Steve fell silent and took a mouthful of coffee. 

On the archery line in front of them, James was gesturing wildly around with his hand and yelling at Clint about something that involved anatomically impossible positions. On the far wall was a cluster of arrows in a formation that reminded her a lot of… oh. An alpha cock. She snorted. 

Steve looked up and followed her line of sight, huffed a laugh and shook his head. ”Yeah, it’s a thing they do. I don’t even know, honestly. I’m just glad they do it when they’re alone,” he said dryly, his eyes full of fond exasperation.

They watched silently as James and Clint got their disagreement sorted out and then started training in earnest. She cocked her head and took in Clint’s relaxed concentration and James’s easy confidence, both something she’d never seen before. Clint had always been too scared and the James she’d known…

”A couple of months ago something happened with Clint,” Steve said and raised a placating hand. ”Nothing permanent but it was a…confrontation with his brother.”

Despite herself, she curled her lip and let out a snarl.

Steve nodded grimly. ”Yeah. It was bad. We had no idea what to expect so he managed to scare Clint here of all places,” the alpha said, frustrated. ”Clint handled himself really well but… I guess it triggered something in Buck. Shit went down and got cleared up, but afterward, he told me some of the stuff that happened to him—what he’d seen and been through.” Steve swallowed.

She raised a hand to interrupt him. ”Where is he now?”

Steve didn’t need to ask who she meant. ”He’s in jail for the next couple of hundred years.”

”Good,” she said with a hiss. ”And if he ever gets out, I’ll end him.”

Steve gave her a cold smile. ”Get in line. There’ll be three alphas to get through first.”

”Good.”

They shared an easy, understanding silence for some time, then Steve cleared his throat.

”Buck said he was alive because of a very special girl. And I swore to myself that if I ever got to meet that special girl, I’d let her know exactly how much she means to me.” He turned to face her. ”So, thank you. And not only for getting my mate back to me but also for being Clint’s friend. Our door will always be open to you, Natalia, whenever you want to walk in.”

She regarded him for a moment and then let her lips draw into a genuine smile. ”Thank you, Steve. That means a lot.” 

It didn’t take her long to realize this place was something she could call home. It was a…revelation. 

She’d gotten offers for a place to stay from both Clint and James but she firmly declined both—not because she thought she couldn’t stay with other people but because there was still something raw and painful between her and James and she frankly didn’t want to invade Clint and Phil’s space. And she was quite certain she didn’t imagine the relief in either party’s eyes. 

Yes, finding her own place was the right thing to do.

It was nothing special, just a studio with a view over the town and a convenient access to the fire escape, but it was hers and that’s what mattered. She purchased some tentative ornaments just to see how it made her feel and was pleased about the warmth that bloomed in her chest when she looked at the small blackbird figurine on her window sill.

”I still see them sometimes,” James said one evening, his voice pitched low but still clear over the noise in the bar.

It was a small, friendly place near the gym, one of the very few places Clint was willing to visit. He still wasn’t that comfortable with larger crowds but nestled in the middle of three alphas and with her on the lookout, he was feeling visibly secure. 

”The ones who just didn’t die.”

She nodded and downed her drink at one go. ”I remember,” she said and pretended the hoarseness in her voice was because of the vodka, not because of the memories. All the people she’d killed, all the people who had been killed when she’d failed… She blinked rapidly and shoot a quick glance to her side, not even one bit surprised when she met Clint’s concerned eyes, always so tuned in to the emotions of the people around him. She flashed a stilted smile and rolled her eyes, satisfied when he answered in kind.

James took a sip of his beer. ”It helps, knowing there’s someone you can look after,” he said knowingly. "Makes it easier. Gives you a purpose.”

”True,” she said and frowned at her empty glass. She was about to get up and get a refill when the waiter placed four new shots in front of her. She cocked her head and raised a questioning brow.

”Greetings from the brunette by the bar,” the waiter said.

She leaned back to take a look and caught Darcy’s challenging smirk. She’d come in with a bunch of Phil’s colleagues—who for some strange reason also knew Steve and Buck, what a coincidence—and was now looking straight at her.

Well then.

”Don’t eat her alive,” James said. ”We like her.”

”No promises,” Nat murmured, threw back two shots, and took the remaining two with her.

Considering everything she’d learned, she probably should’ve seen it coming.

On one perfectly ordinary Wednesday morning, she returned from her morning run to find her door slightly ajar. She paused for a split second, composed herself, took stock of what she was wearing and what to use as a weapon if needed, and opened the door.

A black alpha with an eyepatch and long leather jacket was waiting for her, his hands behind his back, his posture a picture of ease. It didn’t fool her for a minute. She left the door open behind her, preferring a clear escape route to a closed door, and matched his stance, giving him a cool look.

The alpha’s face stayed impassive but his eye glinted with something akin to amusement. ”Natasha Romanoff,” he drawled. ”I’ve heard good things about you.”

She cocked a brow.

He barked a short laugh. ”Yeah. I see what he means. Nicholas Fury of SHIELD Securities. You’ve probably heard of us. I might have a job for you.”

”I don’t do security work.”

”You might like our special branch of security work,” Fury said. ”Think about it.”

He walked out with a dramatic billow of his coat, leaving behind a black calling card and a slim folder.

She narrowed her eyes at his retreating back before closing the door. 

Perhaps this place—this town and these people—were for her after all.