Christmas Evening - Outside the Barton Farm

[the_best_sister]

The team settled down in the snowy hills about a half mile from the Barton residence and began to go through the drill. “Barton has been confirmed on site along with his family and the Kate Bishop person. Orders are to take out Barton. Anyone else who gets in the way is collateral damage.

“Hello!”

The former Hydra agents now mercenaries all turned to look at a short blond woman who was waving at them cheerfully.

“There’s been some miscommunication. The contract? Null and void. All you mercenaries can go home to your loved ones and egg nog. Or just your loved ones. Personally, I think egg nog is disgusting but hey, you do you,” Yelena called out.

All the mercenaries cocked and pointed their guns at her.

“Do you really want to do that?” Yelena asked. “See, if you start shooting now all those guns are just going to be so noisy. Totally tip off what’s going on. And then you got an angry Avenger plus this girl who’s not too bad with a bow picking you off from a rooftop while the family runs away. Honestly, I think you’re better off just going home.”

The mercenaries looked at each other and put their guns away.

“See? I’m so glad to know you all are perfectly reasonable-”

And then the mercenaries all took out knives.

“Really? Knives? Ugh. You guys are the worst.”

The first mercenary lunged at her, slashing with his knife. Yelena sidestepped, grabbed his wrist and twisted until the blade released into her hand. A quick stab to the chest and an elbow to the jaw sent him sprawling.

Before the second could close the distance, she flipped the first mercenary’s knife into her hand and threw it, striking true to the second’s chest. He howled in pain as Yelena dashed forward, sweeping his legs out from under him and planting a knee into his chest.

Two more came at her in tandem, flanking her from both sides. Yelena dropped low, firing off her electroshock charges from her bracers at the one on her left. While he stumbled back, cursing, she turned and caught the other by the wrist mid-swing, twisting him into a painful hold. She shoved him into his partner, sending both tumbling like bowling pins. She pulled out her silenced revolver and fired two quick shots taking them out.

A mercenary behind her attempted to sneak up, but Yelena whirled around, catching his downward knife strike between her palms. With a grunt, she disarmed him and slammed her forehead into his, dropping him like a sack of potatoes and then jabbing the knife in between his ribs.
The remaining mercenaries hesitated, then charged as a group. Yelena smirked as they ran toward her.

“Okay. This might be a cool way to die.”

She darted forward, spinning and striking with a flurry of punches and kicks that left no openings for their retaliation. One by one, they fell until only one was left.

“Okay,” Yelena said with a grunt, shoving the final mercenary to the ground. “It’s very simple. You go back to Valentina and tell her that Yelena Belova says the contract on Clint Barton is canceled. This way, I don’t kill you, and you get off scot-free. Good deal, no?”

“Valentina will kill me,” the merc snarled.

“True,” Yelena deadpanned, shrugging. “Better deal for me than for you.”

The merc’s face twisted in frustration before he suddenly pulled a revolver from his boot, aiming it at her.

Yelena tensed, ready to react, but before either could move, an arrow struck the gun from his hand with an unnatural precision. The merc howled in pain and shock.

Both Yelena and the merc turned to see Clint Barton, already nocking another arrow, his bow steady.

“I’m pretty hard of hearing these days,” Clint said, his voice dry but firm. “But even I can recognize a good deal when I hear one. Go on. Run.”

The merc wasted no time, taking off at full speed. Clint lowered his bow, smirking slightly as he turned to Yelena.

“You know,” he said, “of all the people who could’ve shown up to save the day, you were not on my list.”

Yelena scoffed, or at least tried to. The familiar pang clawed at her chest again—the same one she’d felt the last time she saw Clint. Her Clint. She finally understood what it was: grief, raw and heavy.
She let out a ragged sigh, her voice quieter than intended. “Natasha would have shown up.”

The smirk faded from Clint’s face, replaced by a deep frown. For a long moment, neither said anything, the weight of their shared loss settling between them.

Finally, Clint sighed, gesturing for her to follow him toward the farmhouse. “C’mon.”

Yelena didn’t move,her arms crossed, staring down at the ground.

Clint paused, looking back at her. “I’m not leaving you out here in the cold. Let’s go.”

“I should probably do something about the bodies,” she said, half-heartedly.

“I have people at SHIELD who owe me a favor. They’ll take care of it,” Clint replied, waving it off. “C’mon, Belova. It’s Christmas.”

After a moment of hesitation, Yelena took a step forward and followed him.

“And all the Who’s down in Whoville they say, Yelena’s heart grew three sizes that day,” Clint said with a chuckle.

“Who’s in who what?”

“Nevermind.”

*************

“I found another stray and invited her to dinner!” Clint called cheerfully as he stepped inside the cozy farmhouse.

All eyes turned to the door, and a mixed bag of reactions greeted Yelena as she followed. The kids stared curiously; Kate Bishop jumped to her feet in alarm, her eyes darting between Clint and Yelena.
Laura Barton, finishing up dinner preparations, eyed Clint’s body language and then gave Yelena a welcoming but cautious smile. “Who did you bring home this time?”

Clint smiled as he gestured toward Yelena. “Everyone, this is Aunt Nat’s sister, Yelena. Yelena, you know Kate.”

“Uh, yeah,” Kate muttered, still standing stiffly.

“Hello, Kate Bishop,” Yelena said with a smirk.

“Why does she always say my full name?” Kate whispered to herself.

“Yelena, this is my wife, Laura-”

“Any relative of Natasha is welcome here,” Laura said warmly, stepping forward with a kind smile.

“And these troublemakers,” Clint continued, motioning toward the kids, “are Cooper, Lila, and this little guy is Nathaniel.”

Yelena’s breath caught as she looked at Nathaniel. She glanced at Clint, their eyes meeting in an unspoken understanding. Slowly, she exhaled and forced a smile. “I wasn’t planning on staying. I should probably—”

“Nonsense,” Laura interrupted firmly. “There’s plenty of food, and it’s Christmas. Kids, go wash up.”

Kate, meanwhile, hovered close to Yelena.

“You’re not here to, uh…” Kate bobbed her head toward Clint, her voice wary.

“No, Kate Bishop,” Yelena said, rolling her eyes. “I am not fulfilling the contract.”

“Really?” Kate asked, narrowing her eyes. “Because that looks like blood on your—”

“What’s for dinner?” Yelena asked loudly, cutting her off.

“Ham, roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, and mac and cheese,” Laura called out.

“Sounds delicious!” Yelena replied enthusiastically.

“It’s homemade,” Kate muttered under her breath. “Not from a box.”

“But that’s the best way to make it,” Yelena muttered back and then smirked. “Do they at least have more than one fork?”

“Why do you keep dragging me about the fork thing?” Kate shot back, incredulous.

“Because it is a ridiculous way to live! Who just has one fork?”

The kids returned, and everyone began settling around the table. Yelena found herself sandwiched between Kate and Clint, with Nathaniel sitting directly across from her. As the plates were passed around and the chatter of the holiday filled the room, her eyes kept drifting to Nathaniel. Half-expecting, half-hoping for some shadow of Natasha to appear in his expressions, in his laugh, in anything.

It was ridiculous of course. Nobody could ever fill Natasha’s place. But as the sounds of the holiday filled the room, Yelena let out a long breath and for once didn’t feel like something needed to fill that void again.

She closed her eyes briefly, letting the weight of that realization settle in.
And then, without ceremony, she reached for a second helping of the mac and cheese.
It wasn’t half bad, really.

[NFB due to distance. Playing around with Yelena’s Clint Barton but with approval from so_hawkward. NPC deaths and violence under the cut. Happy Holidays to you all!]