![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redfiona99Title: The Night Raven
Author: Red Fiona
Fandom: Marvelverse (specifically, Avengers Assemble and Black Widow)
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, Marvel does, and no money is being made from this.
Characters: Black Widow and Hawkeye
Rating/Warning: PG-12 gen fic, vaguest of vague spoilers for the Black Widow film.
Notes: Written for the 30 Day AU challenge, on the theme of mythical creatures.
Summary: There's so many reasons the raven could be coming for her.
They're in Budapest again, she's in Budapest again. Well, she says again but it's not again for this new version of herself she's busy putting together, it's only the second time since she left the Widows, and the first time since Clint decided she was worth taking into SHIELD's fold.
The night is hot in that odd, humid way Budapest sometimes is and she cannot sleep. She should, it will be a long day tomorrow (they always are), and she knows it is safe to sleep because Barton is on watch and nothing will get past him.
Still she cannot sleep.
She swears she hears the rapping of a raven on the window. She has looked once, and seen nothing, and Clint is starting to look at her like she's mad.
He must have heard her moving about, as quietly as she's shifted. "There is no bird." He'd asked her what she was looking for, and fool that she was, she'd told him. Not what sort of bird, because that would make him think she's not up to this and she couldn't stand that, not now.
Still she hears the rapping, although Clint swears there is none. She knows it's a Nachtkrapp, come to peck at her sins, although if anyone else said that, she'd call them fanciful.
She shifts again, hoping that the change in position will let her sleep, even if she knows it's a forlorn hope. One of them ought to sleep, and since she's front of house all day tomorrow, it should be her.
"You might as well come over," he says.
"Won't I distract you?"
"No more than you shuffling over there does." Which, fair point.
He's built himself a nest near the window, as comfortable as he can be - nothing reflective, nothing flapping, clear view over most of Pest.
She sits next to him, and he slings an arm over her. It ought to be annoying or encroaching, but it isn't, because it's Clint and he knows why a raven might come for her, because the ravens might come for him too.
Author: Red Fiona
Fandom: Marvelverse (specifically, Avengers Assemble and Black Widow)
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, Marvel does, and no money is being made from this.
Characters: Black Widow and Hawkeye
Rating/Warning: PG-12 gen fic, vaguest of vague spoilers for the Black Widow film.
Notes: Written for the 30 Day AU challenge, on the theme of mythical creatures.
Summary: There's so many reasons the raven could be coming for her.
They're in Budapest again, she's in Budapest again. Well, she says again but it's not again for this new version of herself she's busy putting together, it's only the second time since she left the Widows, and the first time since Clint decided she was worth taking into SHIELD's fold.
The night is hot in that odd, humid way Budapest sometimes is and she cannot sleep. She should, it will be a long day tomorrow (they always are), and she knows it is safe to sleep because Barton is on watch and nothing will get past him.
Still she cannot sleep.
She swears she hears the rapping of a raven on the window. She has looked once, and seen nothing, and Clint is starting to look at her like she's mad.
He must have heard her moving about, as quietly as she's shifted. "There is no bird." He'd asked her what she was looking for, and fool that she was, she'd told him. Not what sort of bird, because that would make him think she's not up to this and she couldn't stand that, not now.
Still she hears the rapping, although Clint swears there is none. She knows it's a Nachtkrapp, come to peck at her sins, although if anyone else said that, she'd call them fanciful.
She shifts again, hoping that the change in position will let her sleep, even if she knows it's a forlorn hope. One of them ought to sleep, and since she's front of house all day tomorrow, it should be her.
"You might as well come over," he says.
"Won't I distract you?"
"No more than you shuffling over there does." Which, fair point.
He's built himself a nest near the window, as comfortable as he can be - nothing reflective, nothing flapping, clear view over most of Pest.
She sits next to him, and he slings an arm over her. It ought to be annoying or encroaching, but it isn't, because it's Clint and he knows why a raven might come for her, because the ravens might come for him too.
