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She’s four years old when she meets him. He’s six and three quarters and likes the color purple.
She learns that his name is Clinton, but he thinks it sounds funny so he’d rather she just call him Clint.
She tells him that her name is Natasha and she likes it just the way it is, but he gives her a nickname anyway.
She smiles at that because she’s never had a nickname before and because she thinks he’s the coolest person in the whole wide world.
They get into their first fight when she’s seven and he’s nine.
It’s not with each other, but rather with a boy who is picking on a younger boy at school.
Natasha steps on the boy’s feet and Clint pushes him to the ground.
They both get their parents called and no recess for a week, but they don’t care because they did what they thought was right.
They go to different schools when Natasha is eight and Clint is ten.
They promise that, even thought Clint’s in middle school with the older kids, he wont stop talking to Natasha.
And he doesn’t.
By the time she’s in middle school though, they see each other less than when she wasn’t.
She’s ten by this time and he’s twelve and he takes archery classes every Tuesday and Thursday, while she had ballet lessons Monday and Friday.
So they hang out on the weekend when Clint doesn’t have chores to do.
They drift a bit when Clint goes to high school at thirteen and he joins the school’s archery team.
She takes dance more seriously though, so she doesn’t feel as bad when they don’t hang out as often.
They do both get cell phones the summer of Clint going into freshman year, so they text and call each other a few nights a week.
When Natasha is thirteen and Clint is fifteen, she’s a freshman and he’s the youngest junior to ever break an archery record at the high school.
She congratulates him and asks him if he would come to her ballet recital.
He say’s yes, of course.
Until he has to say no, because there are some 'hot shot archery people' coming to the school that day hoping to see Clint in action.
That is when they get into their first fight with each other.
Natasha doesn’t speak to him.
He doesn’t try to speak to her because his coach has him so focused on practicing.
Natasha stops trying after she gets the lead part in a show later that week.
More fights and less talking and now it’s the end of Natasha’s freshman year and she never want’s to see him again.
He told her she was annoying him anyway, so she’s pretty much doing him a favor.
--
Over three years go by before they talk again.
--
It’s two in the morning and raining when Natasha hears a knock on her door. She groans, because who ever the fuck is at the door is lucky that she was awake anyway.
She walks towards the front of her house and opens the door to reveal a soaking wet Clint in a very thin jacket.
“Clint,” Her eyes go wide before she continues, “what the fuck are you doing out in the freezing rain at two in the fucking morning?”
She pulls him inside, drags him into the living room, and gives him a blanket. “Sit down, I’ll go make you something warm to drink.”
Before she can walk away, he grabs her hand and pulls her down next to him on the couch.
“I’m sorry.” He says, abruptly, avoiding her eyes and staring down at the carpet.
“What?”
“Tonight, I was at Tony Stark’s house tonight and Pepper, I think, was going on about you got into a really good college on a dance scholarship. And she was talking about how proud she was of you because of what happened in high school.”
“Clint..” She was quiet, keeping her eyes on him.
“I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about. She was saying how your family was going through a tough time and you’re dad up and fucking left and how you had to almost give up dance and I didn’t fucking know any of that!” His face was now bright red, fist clenched tight.
“Clint, you were busy with archery.” She sighed before frowning at him.
“Like that fucking matters Nat, I was your best friend.” He grit his teeth.
Natasha scoffed, “Yea, you were my best friend, alright.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you have to admit you were a pretty shitty best friend. From missing my recitals to ignoring my calls, you seemed to hit every point on the ‘shitty best friend’ list.”
“Look Nat, I wasn’t trying to-“ He started.
“Bull shit, Clint!” She stood up and ran a hand through her hair, “You.. you deliberately avoided eye contact in the hallway, ignored my calls and used the same old ‘I have practice today.’ If you were so busy with pratcie then how did you have time to date Bobbi Morse for two whole years!?”
Clint stared at her, wide eyed before quietly speaking. “That’s why I’m here. I fucked up, Nat”
“Yea, ya did, Clint.” She folded her arms across her chest and sighed.
“I fucked everything up. I thought that if you cared more about ballet than me sometimes, it would be ok for me to do that with archery, but I got too involved with it.” He ran a hand over his face and slumped further into the couch.
“You think I put ballet before our friend ship?” She asked, offended.
“Felt like it, yea.”
“Well looks like we both fucked up then because I had no intention of doing that.” She sat back down next to him and rubbed her eyes.
“I’m sorry too.” She said, looking over at him.
The two sat in silence for what felt like hours, looking out the window, watching the rain. It was an hour before one of them spoke.
“Is it too much to ask for a redo, or a start over or something?” He asks, with the smallest grin on his lips.
Natasha sighs and laughs lightly before leaning against him, “Only if you give me one as well?”
He smiles and rests his head on her shoulder, “Anything for you.”