Sunlight streams through the window and falls on my face. Turning into the pillow, I groan. I do not want to wake up. I don't want to, but I have to. I have to get up and get ready to report to base. Swearing silently in Russian, I mentally hurl abuse at Fury for scheduling the debriefing for eight in the morning. It is six in the morning. I stretch and pull on my robe before brushing out the ruby curls cascading down my shoulders. I walk into the kitchen and immediately head for the coffeemaker. There's already a pot made. Clint. I smile slightly to myself, knowing my partner is up and getting ready for the meeting. Because over half the pot is gone, I know he stayed up late last night. I turn around to see a girl about my age padding through the halls, obviously lost. She had long blond hair, blue eyes and was wearing only a shirt. A man's dress shirt, gray. My eyes narrow as I realize that not only is this girl wearing Clint's shirt, but she has the audacity to wear a shirt that I gave him. She smiles when she sees me. I do not reciprocate.
"Can you tell me where the bathroom is?" She asks.
"Clint's bathroom is just over there." I inform, pointing to the door across the hall. I look at her knowingly, and she blushes slightly and hurries off. I suddenly decide to go work out, ignoring the fact that I should be getting ready. The gym is empty and I head straight for the punching bag, not bothering to tape up my hands. My fists crash into the bag and I don't care when it tears my knuckles up. I don't stop when the tan bag is stained red with my blood. I don't even feel it. I only punch harder, and I don't stop until Pepper comes in. She sees the blood and rushes over to me, grabbing my arms. I could fight back, if I wanted to, but this is Pepper.
"What are you doing?" She shrieks.
"Just working out." I say, shrugging her off.
"Why aren't you wearing tape?!" She asks, exasperated.
"I needed it to hurt. I needed a distraction." I inform her. She blanches at my words.
"Natasha, what's going on?" Pepper asks, the concern in her voice sparks cynicism in my mind.
"Nothing. I'm just stressed." I lie. It's very easy to lie, but not as easy to lie to Pepper, especially since I lied about my whole being when I played Natalie Rushman.
"Is this about that girl Clint brought home? " She asks knowingly.
"No." I respond firmly. She nods. I know she doesn't believe me. I look at the clock on the wall. Its seven.
"Shit, I'm late." I run upstairs and shower and pull on the first pair of jeans I find and a SHIELD t-shirt, grabbing my leather jacket as a run for the door. Clint is waiting by the car.
"I almost thought you'd be late." Clint grins.
"I'm driving." I replied. He tosses me the keys to his Corvette. We're paid handsomely at SHIELD, and Clint loves this car. I am the only one other than himself that he trusts to drive it. As we drive down the roads, New York is a blur. When we hit the freeway, I push harder and harder on the acceleration. Clint looks concerned. He must know I'm frustrated, he's been my partner too long to not know.
"Damn, Nat, slow down." Clint tells me. I slow down, but not because he told me to. We are at base. I get out of the car wordlessly and he follows. I endure the meeting silently. As Fury tells us off for every SHIELD protocol we broke on our last mission, Clint grins at me wryly, remembering the chaos we caused. I train my eyes elsewhere, stealing glances when he isn't looking. God, why does he have to wear that stupid smug grin? As soon as the meeting is over I leave for the door, wishing we had driven separately.
"I'm driving this time, Nat." Clint says, taking the keys from my hands and dropping into the drivers seat. I can't protest; it's his car. Around halfway to the Tower, Clint breaks the silence.
"What's wrong, Tasha?" Clint is concerned. When I'm doing something crazy, which is most of the time, he calls me Nat. He only calls her Tasha when she's hurt.
"Nothing." I reply shortly.
"Bullshit. What's wrong?" Clint returns, this time more frustrated than concerned.
"Nothing." I insist. I have rarely lied to Clint this way. When we get home, the team notices the wall of ice I have built between us. Pepper drags me into her room.
"You're jealous. " She declares without preamble.
"Of who?" I scoff. She raises an eyebrow at me. She is one of the few people on the planet who can see through my emotionless face.
"That girl Clint slept with." She replies.
"I am not jealous. Insulted, maybe. Angry, yes. Jealous? Never." I return.
"You love Clint." She persists.
"Love is for children." I shoot back instantly.
"Fine. How do you feel about Clint?" Pepper softens.
"He is my partner and my best friend. He is a part of my life." I respond carefully.
"Do you want him to be more?" Pepper inquires, sitting beside me.
"Yes. But as we are not dating, he has the right to be with whoever he wants." I answer truthfully. As much as I have lied today, I feel the need to tell Pepper the truth.
"So you were jealous." Pepper states. The statement is a mixture of triumph and apology.
"No, I was not jealous. It's just...that shirt she was wearing. I got him that shirt." I reply thickly. I bow my head, but do not cry. Pepper puts her arm around me and gives me a quick hug. I sit, motionless. I rejoin the team in the living room, and sit down next to Steve. Normally I would sit next to Clint, but I am still irritated. Clint's jaw is set in frustration. Finally, he grabs my arm and pulls me into the elevator, pushing the button to the gym floor. I could have fought him, but I knew we needed to have this confrontation before we could go back to being what we were yesterday. It's been barely twelve hours and already I miss him. We step into the ring.
"What's going on, Nat?" Clint asked.
"That girl. Who was she?" I ask, avoiding the question for now.
"Her name's Chloe. Why?" He responds, oblivious. I answer his question with a question.
"Are you dating?" Clint's face contorts in confusion.
"No. She was just some girl. I don't even have her number." Clint responds. Then it dawns on him. "Wait, Nat, are you jealous?"
"Pepper says I am. I think I'm just insulted." I reply.
"Insulted?" he asks.
"If you needed to be with someone you could have just come to me."
"No, I couldn't have done that. I can't do that to you or myself. I wouldn't have been able to keep my feelings in check."
"Feelings?" I repeat as if they were a foreign word.
"Of course I have feeling for you, Nat. But I know you don't and that's ok. I don't want to ruin what we have." I feel a smile tugging at my lips.
"Idiot." I mutter as I walk toward him. He looks alarmed and is a split second away from putting up his arms in defense when I push him into the corner and lean up to kiss him. He leans down into the kiss and when our lips meet the world disappears. I have no idea how much time has passed. All I know is my arms around his neck and his one hand cupping my face with the other on my waist. We break apart, breathing for the first time in what seems like years. He flashes me that smug grin, and I roll my eyes but cannot help myself and suddenly I am in his arms. He leans down, hooks an arm under my knees and carries me to the elevator. He doesn't let me down until we've reached the couch. I sit on his lap, my small body encased in his muscular arms. Bruce rolls his eyes. Steve blushes. Thor grins. Tony just pours himself another drink. Pepper is not in the room. We watch the movie in a comfortable silence, until Pepper comes in.
"Finally!" She exclaims, wearing a triumphant smile. I ignore her, and lay my head on Clint's chest, hiding a small, sleepy smile. Clint whispers into my ear, electrifying the skin on the nape of my neck.
"Спокойной ночи, мой паук." I smile when I hear him speaking my native tongue, which I taught him over the years. I turn my face towards him, look into his gray-blue eyes and whisper back.
"Спокойной ночи, мой ястреб."
He falls asleep before I do and, sitting up, I press a kiss to his lips and whisper the words I know he hasn't heard from me.
"Я люблю тебя." I then curl against his chest and let sleep over take me, not seeing the smile on his face.