One night at the Avenger's Tower, Natasha had been in her own suite cleaning her weapons when she was alerted by JARVIS that someone was at her door.

"Hey Nat, whatcha up to?" He had asked, standing with his hands behind his back.

"Just cleaning my favorite gun. Why?"

"I was bored. Wondered if you're up to playing a little game for entertainment."

Raising her gun she had teased, "Russian roulette?"

Clint chuckled. "Not that entertaining. How 'bout a game of Truth or Dare over vodka instead?" He had said, bringing the bottle from behind his back.

She then had smiled, opening the door wider so he could enter. "You know me so well."

And that's how Natasha and Clint ended up playing a one-on-one game of Truth or Dare until it was so late it was technically morning.


As of now, Natasha was splayed lazily across her couch when Clint reentered the room. He threw a large sized manila envelope at her feet and sat down next to her.

"Dare's complete. Lucky for me he turned in early."

With a raised brow, Natasha grabbed the envelope and emptied its contents. Long blonde locks of hair spilled out on the coffee table. She immediately starts laughing.

"Haha, nice going Barton."

"Yea I know, I'm awesome. I probably won't feel like it tomorrow though when Thor wakes up and realizes he's had an overnight haircut."

Natasha grabs the Vodka bottle and offers it to him. "Well, you deserve a drink for your brave feats."

He smiles and accepts the bottle. After taking a swig he says, "Thanks. Now it's your turn. Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Okay, um… Oh I got it. Which member of the Avengers would you say is the most attractive?" He looks at her expectedly.

"What!? Why even ask that?"

"Cuz I always wanted to know your type. So c'mon, spill. And be honest."

"Fine." Natasha's grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

She's quiet for a minute then says, "It's not really fair to pick just one. I mean everyone is attractive in their own way."

"Yea sure opt out on the easy road." Clint smirks.

"No no I'm serious. Bruce is attractive in that distinguished yet reserved way. Then there's Tony. Excusing how much of an egotistical smartass he can be most times, he's still handsome, dashing, and charming and if all else fails at least he's got brains. But just because I find my teammates attractive, it doesn't mean they're my type."

"Hmm, if you say so." Clint answered sounding generally unconvinced.

Natasha grabs the bottle back from him and takes a nip before continuing. "Just take Captain Rogers, for instance. There's no denying he's strikingly handsome and around him it's easy to feel like chivalry isn't dead after all, but as for my type? Ha! I'd either corrupt him or eat him alive."

Clint snorts, "Guess they don't call you Black Widow for nothing, eh?"

Natasha jabs him in the side with her elbow, but there's laughter in her eyes. "And then there's Thor who is probably on the same level with Steve in the looks department."

She notes Clint rolling his eyes. "Hope you feel the same way about him with a buzz cut."

This time, Natasha picks up a nearby decorative pillow and thrashes him with it. "Hey! You said be honest. And I may not be interested in him per say, but I'm not blind. The man seriously does look like a god in all his stunning glory. Though, like I said, just because I find him and the others attractive, it doesn't mean they're my type. You know that better than anyone. For starters, I've seen you look at Agent Hill."

"Who Maria? Heh, yea she's pretty hot."

"Right, and would you date her."

"No! And don't tell her I said that."

"Which part?"

"Both."

Natasha snickers and Clint uses the distraction to commandeer the Vodka. "Remember when Jane came here to visit Thor. I heard you tell Tony that you thought she was — and these are your words—'abso-freakin beautiful.'"

Clint looks up at her in surprise.

"Oh don't worry, I won't tell Thor you said that."

"Good, because I don't need another reason for him to go whack-a-mole on my head. And you're right, she really is lovely."

"But would you consider her your type?"

"Course not. She's about science and theories; and while I admire her abilities, that's not really my thing."

"Exactly! So that proves what I was trying to say all along."

"Okay, you made your point. I get it. Buuuttt, you still haven't told me who your type is?"

Suddenly, a wicked gleam comes into Natasha's eyes. She smiles mischievously and slides over closer to Clint so that she's speaking right into his ear, "Looks like you win in the double threat department. I find you attractive and I consider you my type."

Clint grins at her, relishing in her nearness. "Aw Nat, just what I wanted to hear."

Natasha narrows her eyes and replies, "Glad to satisfy you," in a voice just as sultry, before snatching the bottle of Vodka from his grasp and downing the last of it. "And now I'm satisfied."

Clint risks putting his arm around her and mutters, "I'll just pretend you didn't only say that to steal my alcohol."

Natasha just smiles at him smugly.


A/N: This fic had originally been written as a one-shot meant to end here. Because of all the reviewers, most significantly special agent Ali, who inspired me to write more chapters, I wanted to dedicate the rest of this story to them. Thank you for being my motivation till the very end. Especially you Ali, who inspired, followed, and reviewed each chapter until completion. - Sept. 2013