A/N: I was listening to this song that I think is the most perfect Clintasha song ever (there's a hint in the tile and chapter name, BTW ;) ) which I'll be using to attempt to make a Clintasha vid out of when the DVD's released in September. Yeah, weird way to start off a series. Whatever. The others will be longer, and will probably make more sense.
-~•~-
Names.
For some reason that's what she thinks about as he revs up the car. Clint and Natasha. Hawkeye and Black Widow.
Hawkeye and Black Widow go together, but not in a romantic way. Like leaves and trees. More specifically, a bow and arrow. Partners. Nothing more.
Clint and Natasha seems different. Not because of identity or anything like that. But while Hawkeye and Black Widow is sword and hilt, gun and bullets, Clint and Natasha is something else entirely. Nat can't place it exactly. Both names go together so well, so irrevocably perfect and bound that no one can deny it. But Clint and Natasha is so different. You can't compare it to anything. Poison and wine? No. Peanut butter and jelly? Definitely not. (She never got that one, anyway.)
Clint and Natasha...is just Clint and Natasha. That's it. That's everything. It can't be contrasted with anything else.
Natasha stares out the windows at the trees as they pass. She doesn't know where they're going, but it doesn't really matter. She's with her partner: the one person she actually trusts and the one person whose back she'd watch no matter what. Love has nothing to do with it. Trust and debt are more powerful than anything.
Clint chuckles softly as she explains about the names. Sometimes she wonders why she ever says things like this, but he always understands what she's trying to say. They don't need words.
He smiles at her. "I like the bow and arrow analogy."
"Really?" Natasha says flatly. She shoots a look at the black box in the back seat that's hiding his favourite weapon.
"Well, it's us. Clint and Natasha. The bow and the arrow."
She grins back. She doesn't know how to smile with anyone else. Natasha isn't sure he does, either. But he's still better at it then she is. Apparently she's lifeless when she's in her own skin. Natasha supposes that's because she's become so practiced in having a blank expression. It's better for spies. It keeps them both safe.
Her and her partner. The only problem with the bow and arrow analogy is that bows and arrows don't protect each other. They can't.
But she and Clint can. And she'd hit him really hard on the head a thousand times if it meant they were both safe.