Partners
"Why did you make me do that?" a grumpy Black Widow asked her possible partner in Russian.
"You know I know you speak English Natasha," Clinton replied to her in flawless Russian.
"Yet you continue to indulge my speaking Russian. Now why do we do that?"
"It was a step class Natasha, it's fun," he smiled.
"You and I have very different ideas of fun," she said eyeing him wearily as she stripped to be more comfortable. His eyebrow quirked up at her disregard to his presence while she changed into the skintight S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform.
"Come on its lunch time," he said.
"Well lead the way then, I hope you have food for me," she kept speaking in Russian.
"It's a cafeteria for the whole crew so you're included in that."
"Excellent," she said. They walked into the cafeteria together and got some food. They sat together at a table away from most people.
"How are you liking it here?" he asked.
"I'm going stir crazy," she said stabbing her fork into her potatoes. "They aren't letting me do anything, I'm not allowed out for missions which they say they want me for but don't assign to me. "
"You're on probation Natasha," he said. "You should get a hobby," he suggested biting into his green beans.
"I have a hobby, weaponry, I'm not allowed to do that either. Because apparently I can't be trusted with those," she rolled her eyes.
"Your on probation what do you want them to do? Besides your dangerous enough with your hands."
"Hey," a guy said sitting down at the table with them.
"Do not sit down, take your tray away, and leave this instant," Natasha's Russian accent came out strong.
"What did she say?" the guy sitting beside her asked.
"She said hi how are you," Hawkeye smiled.
"Oh can you tell her I'm good and I appreciate her asking," he smiled at her.
"Sure thing," Clint said.
"I hate you," she glared at him.
"No you don't you hate your decision to pretend to only speak Russian."
"Drooling girl coming up at two o'clock," she said nodding to the brunette who sat across from Clint.
"Hi Clinton," she smiled pleasantly at him.
"Hi Susan how are you?" he asked in a much less lively voice than he had spoken with Natasha.
"Oh I'm good thank you so much for asking, recently," Clinton began tuning her out as she went on one of her rants.
"She likes you," Natasha said in Russian.
"No she doesn't," Clinton replied back giving her an odd look.
"Either that or she commonly doesn't wear underpants," Natasha said.
"Underpants?" Clinton quirked his eyebrow.
"Yes she isn't wearing any and she's angled her lower half directly towards you in the hopes that you'll notice since she is also wearing a particularly short skirt."
"No I meant why did you say underpants?"
"What would you prefer I say?" she was clearly confused.
"Most girls say panties." Natasha scrunched her nose up at him and he smiled ear to ear, "you can't say it can you?"
"I'm perfectly capable of saying it," she replied looking back down at her cooling food.
"Then say it," he said poking her side.
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Chicken!"
"Pardon," Natasha said suddenly speaking in English and holding her hand towards this Susan woman.
"Oh I didn't no you spoke English," she said her face lighting up.
"Very selectively," Natasha pretended to struggle with even those two words. Clinton rolled his eyes recalling the long conversation he had had with her in English convincing her to come. "I well he," she pointed to Clinton, "telling me," she motioned to herself knowing it helped keep up her façade. "You beautiful," she gestured to Susan who blushed vibrantly, "was wondering, for food at night," she winced like she knew she was doing poorly in attempting to communicate. "But very shy," she said pointing to Clinton once more.
"Of course I'll go to dinner with you Clinton!" Susan exclaimed smiling ear to ear.
Susan skipped off and Clinton looked over at Natasha with murder in his eyes, "why did you do that?" he asked clearly upset.
"Don't make fun of me," she smirked triumphantly.
A red light suddenly lit up the cafeteria area. "Hawkeye please report to the landing bay," the loud speaker summoned.
"That's me," he said.
"Wait," she called finally speaking flawless English. He looked back both because she called him and because he was surprised that she finally spoke openly to him in English. "You said I was your partner," she said.
"You will be my partner if you pass your probation," he said. "Come on," he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. "Why are you asking?"
"Because if you're going on a mission I want to go too. We're going to be partners, I want to go partner."
"You aren't cleared, you're on probation, and you can't go."
"Hawkeye get into the craft," Director Fury said as he met the two outside of the main room. He steered them both towards the plane. "What are you doing here?" Fury asked turning his eyes to Black Widow.
"I want to go," she said staring at Fury.
"No you're on probation," Fury said in a very end of conversation voice.
Fury went into the control room and Hawkeye ran out onto the plane with a regretful look backwards. Natasha sighed and stood in the hallway.
Fury and Hill stood in the command room watching Hawkeye fight several men from an opposing organization. "Sir," Hill said suddenly standing from her chair and pointing to the screen.
"He'll see it," Fury said watching the man sneak up behind one of his best agents.
"He hasn't seen him yet," Hill said watching the screen in horror.
The man jumped at Hawkeye, knife drawn, and everyone winced in anticipation. Suddenly a heeled boot connected with the face of the attacker and pinned him down. "Lights out," a Russian voice said as she shot the guy in the face.
"Natasha!" Clinton shouted turning and seeing her.
"You almost died, I saved your life," she said. "You're my partner, and I'll save you every time. I have trust issues and people issues and issues everywhere in between. But you're my partner, and I'll protect you. That's what partners do right?" He nodded smiling at her.