A/N- Hello, whoever is reading this! I'm glad your here. I was having some Clintasha feels and I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would write this. Enjoy!

The pair of assassins sat on the floor of Clint's bathroom, medical supplies littered around them.

"You first," the archer said. Natasha nodded. It was pointless to try to argue, even if his wounds were worse. She allowed Clint to ease her tattered shirt over her head. Natasha's eyes followed Clint's hands as unwrapped an antiseptic wipe and began dabbing at a gash on her side. She wrinkled her nose as the smell hit sterile, chemical stench was unpleasantly familiar, jogging painful memories that she quickly locked away in her brain as Clint taped some gauze in place.

He pulled out another wipe and help it to a shallow cut along her temple. His other hand rested lightly on the base of Natasha's neck, fingers entwined in her firey hair.

When the bleeding stopped, Clint lifted the soiled wipe and fastened a bandage in place. His eyes roamed her body, skimming over but not lingering on Natasha's exposed cleavage and curves, making sure she didn't have any more injuries. He reached out and ran a thumb over a large bruise on her stomach. The gentle caress, not unpleasant, sent a fluttering feeling through her body.

"Your turn," Natasha murmured. Clint sat back and allowed his partner to dab at an open wound on his arm. She wrapped her hands around around his forearm, applying pressure to the bleeding part. Once the blood clotted, she wrapped a bandage around it.

She pulled his shirt over his head. Natasha's lips parted when she saw his upper body. Although he wasn't bleeding badly, there was a fair sized laceration where his shoulder met his chest.

Natasha cleaned the abrasion with another antiseptic wipe, then threaded a sterile needle and a length of thread. She moved closer, practically sitting in Clint's lap, and began to sew his skin back together. He winced when the needle pierced his skin, but remained silent throughout the procedure.

After Natasha cleaned and tied off the thread, she surveyed the rest of his body. No more injuries. Clint put his arms around her, a hand gently stroking her hair. He gave a small smile as she laid her head against his uninjured shoulder. He placed a gentle kiss to her head.

"Thanks."

So that basically happens at eleven at night when I can't sleep. I'm working on a few stories, I hope to get them up eventually. Until then!