barbie assassin

To Love Assassins: Part 10

Prompt: What happens when you, the personal assistant to Tony stark, ends up having two assassins as soulmates? Let’s just say it ends up being a wild ride.AN: Cause the idea for this triad has been on my mind for forever, and then the premise came, and I was like hell yes!
AU: Soulmark appearing at first touch

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9


“So… a kid?”

    You nod, “Yep. That’s what three pregnancy tests and a doctor say.”

    Tony smiles, “Yeah well … we Starks make pretty awesome kids. Look at how you turned out! You weren’t even planned.”

    You smile, “Yeah, well, hopefully our little family will be a little more conventional than the one I was raised in.”

    He gives you a sad smile, “Yeah, your childhood wasn’t the best.”

    You lean your head on his shoulder, “Maybe not, but you did your best. You always kept me safe, and you always kept in contact. Constant calls. Nearly stalkerish.”

    He lets out a laugh, “You’re the light of my life kid. Best day of my life was when I found out about you.”

    A silence engulfs the two of you until your father lets out an expletive, “You’re a cheater. My genetics produced a cheater. I can’t believe this.”

You smile at the TV screen, where your car is proudly displayed as the winner, “Best two out of three?”

He smiles, and nods, “Absolutely!”  As the two of you steer your cars around the track he

Asks, “So where is Legolas, and Assassin Barbie?”

    “Clint is fending off recruiters for other agencies, apparently he is very in demand, and Nat is doing something with Capitol Hill.”

    Your father scoffs, “Probably making them wet themselves.”

    “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

    “How are they doing with this whole baby thing?” You wince, and he laughs, “That bad, hunh?”

    “Who knew superspies would be so overprotective?”

    He scoffs, “Everyone on this freaking planet.” His face turns serious, “When you’ve lost everything before you tend to get a bit overprotective when you gain something else.” He pauses, “You know … thinking about it, maybe video games aren’t best when you’re pregnant?”

    You groan, “Not you too.”

    He keeps a serious face for a second more, before laughing, “Nah, I’m not that stupid. Your mother would have killed me for it, and you’re a lot like her, so …”

    You smile as you move your car ahead of his and into the winner’s circle, “Good thought. For someone so smart you really suck at this game.”

    He scowls and tosses the control away from himself, “Kids used to let their parents win to make them feel good about themselves.”

    You smile, “It’s the other way around, typically. You were merciless, especially when it came to chutes and ladders.”

    There’s a moment of silence before he asks, “Change the game?”

    “And gain revenge for years of torture from that game? You’re on.”

    The rest of the day is spent in the throes of board games. You’re both too competitive for your own good. You realize this, but you’re having too much fun to stop. When Nat and Clint return, it’s to find you and your dad in the middle of a rockem sockem robots match. You scowl as he wins the round.

Clint drops a kiss on the top of your head, while Nat takes a seat next to you. You pass the game over and allow her to take your spot, and watch as she destroys your father. When he loses, he looks up at you and says, “We never agreed to subs. You cheat. My genetics created a cheater.” He then looks straight at your stomach and says, “DO NOT BE LIKE YOUR MOTHER. EITHER OF THEM. Cheating is bad.Be like grandpa. He plays fair.”

You roll your eyes as Clint leans back into the couch and smiles, “Looks like someone’s okay with the idea of grandkids.”

Your dad looks at Clint, “Grandkids? Yes. You impregnating my daughter? Not so much.”

You let out a laugh, “How did you think it was going to happen?”

“Immaculate conception.” At that all three of you burst out laughing. The look of horror that washes over your father’s face makes it even better.

You stand up and stretch, “Anyways, we need to get going.”

He stands up and hugs you, “All right. Be safe kid.”

“Will do.”

He then bends so he’s eye level with your stomach, “Be good for your moms and give

your dad hell.”  

    Clint scowls, “Thanks Tony.”

    Your dad smirks, “Any time, Katniss.”

    You pull Clint away before he can retaliate. The ride back to the farm is a quiet one. Clint pilots while you and Natasha sit curled together. There’s a tension in the air that makes you a little uneasy. Neither Nat or Clint say anything once you reach home. You watch as they go their separate ways, and you know something is up. It continues into the night, and when you head up the stairs to go to bed, Nat moves to follow you, while Clint makes himself comfortable on the couch.

    You know better than to interrogate them together. You wait till you’re in the room to ask, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

She smiles at you, “Nothing you need to worry about.”

You pull on one of Clint’s tee-shirts, “Too late.”

She comes over to you and wraps her arms around you, “Stress is bad for the baby, let

us work this out. It’s between us.”  

    For a moment the sting of loneliness hits you. Clint and Nat had a bond that was forged through fire. Most of the time it didn’t bother you, but in instances like this it gnawed at you. You shrug out of her arms. A look of hurt flashes across her face. You don’t say anything, instead you grab a pillow and a blanket, and you simply say, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

    You scuttle out of there before she can say anything. You spend the night in the guest room that had been set up for your father. Of course, you find yourself unable to sleep. The next three days are lonely for all three of you. The animosity between Clint and Nat is so thick you could cut it with a knife, but they won’t tell you anything.

    Sometimes they’re screaming at each other in Russian, other times they won’t even look at each other. It drives you crazy. And whenever you bring up possibly talking things out, they shut you down claiming stress as an excuse.

    On day four of the crazy you pack a bag. They’re so busy ignoring each other that they don’t even notice you grab the car keys and slip out. It’s a long drive to the nearest airport. And as you stand there deciding where to go, you briefly consider your dad’s place before dismissing it. Instead you buy a ticket for home.

    The flight is somewhat longer than you’re used to, but you take it in stride. You send a message to your father, letting him know where you’re going, before turning your phone off. A driver is waiting for you at the airport. It takes another hour to get there, and at the sight of the house you can’t help but smile.

    You smile, and thank the driver before pulling out a key, and entering. Despite the amount of time it’s been since you’ve been here, the house is clean, and the fridge is stocked. You send a silent thank you to your father, before heading upstairs to your room. As you set your bag down, you smile at the fact that nothing has changed.

    You take a bit of time to re-familiarize yourself with the house, you stop in the living room. You smile at the sight of all the pictures. Pictures of you with Edwin and Anna. Pictures of you with your dad. And one lone picture of you with your mother, and one of you with your mother and father.

    In both pictures your mother looks gaunt, and pale. She’s near death, but she doesn’t seem to care. You trace your fingers over her face before pushing away, and going to make dinner. After all, you were eating for two.