A/N: Hello everyone! I'm back with a new story! This is a one-shot and will not have anymore chapters or a sequel.
I would like to point out this is set before the Avengers movie. There is a quote that I used from the movie and don't want any confusion.
A big thank you to all of my followers who reviewed A New Life and Date Night Desserts! A special thank you to shadowbeats22107 for always helping me and supporting me! If you haven't checked out her stories, you really should. They are amazing!
Enjoy!
Unrequited
Natasha was sitting eating lunch in the mess hall of the Helicarrier. She had just ended her morning workouts and needed to refuel for an afternoon of training recruits. It was her turn to teach the newbies. Everyone had to do it. Most of the time, she found a way out of it, be it a mission or suddenly not being around. This time, Fury threatened no missions for a year unless she spent the mandatory two weeks training new agents. It annoyed her that it worked.
The only good part about this training sentence was that Clint would be there as well. Unlike her, he enjoyed showing off in front of the recruits. They all marveled at his flawless aim and spectacular agility. He always put on a show for the new agents, and they always fawned over him. The male recruits idolizing him and the women practically throwing themselves at him.
If Natasha were being honest with herself, he was attractive. Not in a ruggedly handsome kind of way. He was a bit shorter than most guys and had an older face. His sandy blond hair and piercing gray-blue eyes that could see through you, were one of his best traits. That and his arms. Oh, his arms.
Natasha stopped herself there, or else she would daydream about those arms all day. As it was, she was cutting it close. She had to be at the training gym all the way across the Helicarrier in ten minutes. She stood from her table and tossed the remains of her lunch in the trash, making her way out of the mess hall.
When she reached the training gym, she to a breath and schooled her features to that of indifference. She breezed into the room, commanding the attention of the new recruits. She flicked her eyes up to the rafters, knowing Clint would be watching them from above. She smirked internally, but kept her mask on. He was up there, watching how she was going to proceed. He would follow her lead, he always did.
As soon as she made her entrance, the recruits stopped whatever they were gossiping about and watched her walk to the front of the group. Most of them were young men, but there were a few women in there too. Most of them, guys and girls alike, looked over-confident and haughty. Natasha was ready to knock them down from their high horses.
"I am Agent Romanoff," Natasha introduced herself to the group. "Today we will start sparring to see where your strengths and weaknesses are." She spoke with a cool authority.
"And, uh, who are we sparrin' against?" One of the bigger guys mocked, "you?"
"Yes." Natasha answered curtly. "Would you like to go first?"
"Sure. But don't run off cryin' when I take ya down." He grinned, then said over his shoulder to his friends, "or when ya break a nail."
"What's your name, agent?" Natasha ordered.
"Jared Brandt," he looked so proud of himself.
Before he knew what happened, he was on the floor, Natasha pinned his arm behind his back, his nose grinding into the mats. The group gasped, but was otherwise silent. Then there was a soft thud on the ground behind her. The familiar footsteps alerted her that her partner had finally joined the party.
"C'mon, Nat," she could hear the smirk in his voice. "Let him up. He's worthless to us broken."
"Fine," she grumbled, releasing her hold on the big thug she took down in seven seconds. He returned to the group of recruits with a defeated posture, clutching his shoulder. She stood up and stepped back. Clint was now barely a foot behind her. She could feel him standing there, she always had a sense of where he was in a room before she even looked.
"Alright, listen up. There are a couple of things you need to before we get started," Clint announced. "I'm Agent Clint Barton, you may know me as Hawkeye." The recruits gasped when they recognized the call sign. "And this is my partner, Agent Natasha Romanoff, a.k.a. The Black Widow." The guy who Natasha had beaten looked scared. "Please, don't get on her bad side, or mine. You won't like the results." Clint continued. "Now, there are a few rules about training. First of all, we choose your partners. If you have a problem with it, you can leave. Second, you must past both the written tests and physical tests to become an agent. Lastly, if you disobey any orders or rules you will be asked to leave immediately." At that, several of the recruits visibly flinched. Not because of the rule itself, but from the threat in Clint's voice.
"Let's get started." Natasha called the attention of the recruits and divided everyone up and gave them partners to practice sparring. Natasha and Clint walked around the gym to watch the groups and see who could do what. After an hour of watching the recruits spar, Clint and Natasha had seen plenty to know what they needed to work on.
"Everyone, gather around the mats." Clint told to new agents, gesturing for them to line up along the sides of the sparring mats. Natasha was standing with him in the middle of the group, knowing why he was arranging them like so.
"Now, we will show you what real sparring looks like." Natasha didn't hesitate, she struck out against Clint. In the same moment, he had anticipated her move, he ducked out of the way and they began their match.
Watching Black Widow and Hawkeye spar, was just like watching a finely choreographed dance, except this was not rehearsed. They just knew each other so well, they were able to spar a thousand different times, with a thousand different scenarios and still know how to not injure each other without pulling punches. They knew and understood one another's moves as intimately as they knew their own.
Their dangerous dance ended with Clint pinning Natasha to the mat. It wasn't uncommon for the Hawk to best the Widow in sparring. He was one of the few who could beat her at all, he was the only one who could match her skill. Now, he had her hands pinned above her head as he settled his hips against hers and trapped her legs with his own. He smirked down at her.
"Do you yield?" He rumbled above her.
She flashed a feral smile and tried to escape him. He tightened his grip on her wrists and settled more firmly on top of her. She growled in contempt.
"I said," leaning down to her ear, he growled, "Do you yield?"
His voice sent a shiver down her spine and she hoped to a god she didn't believe in that he didn't notice. She knew she was beat, and so yielded to him his victory.
"I yield," she mumbled under her breath.
"I'm sorry," he smirked. "I didn't quite catch that."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not saying it again." Now she just sounded bored and annoyed.
"C'mon Tasha," he growled, "say it and I let you up." His grin was smug. She wanted to smack it off his face with a good slap.
She rolled her eyes once more but appeased him anyway. "I yield," she said loud enough for the not-quite forgotten recruits surrounding them.
Clint rolled off of her and stood up. He offered her a hand, which she took, and helped her to her feet. The recruits around them looked a mix between shocked, scared and amused. The one person who was amused was the egotistical Jared Brandt. It was clear he had enjoyed the fact that Natasha hadn't been able to beat Clint.
"Any questions?" Agent Barton asked the group of silent recruits. Agent Brandt stepped forward with a cocky grin on his face.
"I want a rematch with her," he pointed at Agent Romanoff, who just rolled her eyes. Of course he did. He saw that she got beat by Clint, who was in every way her equal, so he thought she had just gotten lucky the first time. Typical.
"Your funeral," Clint shrugged. That should have been Brandt's first clue, but being the moron he was, didn't heed the warning. He stepped onto the mat.
Natasha stood there looking bored, ignoring the burly idiot in front of her. She studied her nails on her left hand. Clint was smirking behind Agent Brandt's back. Agent Brandt was stalking toward the deadly spider, thinking he would catch her off guard.
When he got within five feet of her, she looked up and moved forward, launching herself off the ground. Her thighs wrapped around his neck. She twisted her body, pulling him down to the ground. She landed in a crouch on top of him, smirking. He looked shell-shocked.
"I warned you," Clint laughed at the felled recruit. He offered Natasha a hand again, helping her off the dumbass recruit. She walked away toward the rest of the group, Clint right beside her, leaving Brandt on the ground seething in anger.
"Now, tomorrow..." Natasha started speaking to the group of admiring recruits. Some still looked scared and others looked awed. They all respected the two agents more than they had upon entering the gym before training.
Agent Brandt got up and stalked up behind Agent Romanoff. He was pissed that she had bested him twice. He was about to 'show her' that he was better. Just before he laid a hand on the red haired assassin, his wrist was grabbed and yanked up behind his back, the other hand being grabbed and trapped as well.
"Don't even think about it," a deep voice growled into his ear.
The rest of the class gasped at the sudden scene before them. Natasha turned around leisurely, but had a cold, angry glare on her face directed at Agent Brandt.
"You are hereby dismissed from training. Take your belongings and report to Assistant Director Hill's office immediately." Natasha instructed Jared Brandt.
"You fucking bitch! You have no right to dismiss me! I didn't do anything! You fucking bitch!" Brandt snarled at Natasha, still restrained by Clint. He thrashed in the archer's hold, trying to free himself, but to no avail.
"You can leave on your own or I can call down a few agents to escort you out of here. Either way you will be leaving. Get you things and leave, now," she said in a dangerously calm voice.
Brandt stilled, his anger palpable. After a minute he spat, "fine." He shook off the archer's hold on him. Before they could react again, he had lunged at Natasha, knocking a punch to her head, her left temple to be exact. The force sent her to the ground, her head bouncing off the mats.
Clint lunged at Brandt, fighting him, beating him. When he was finished, Jared Brandt was unconscious on the ground with a broken wrist and several broken bones and most likely a concussion. As soon as Brandt was down, Clint turned his attention to Natasha. A couple of the female and one of the male recruits had moved to help her and make sure she was okay.
Clint dropped down beside his partner, shooing the others away, instructing them to get their partners and practice some more sparring, giving him and Natasha space. She was sitting up, holding her head in one hand.
"You okay?" Clint asked, he lifted her chin so she could meet his eyes. Her pupils looked normal.
"Fine," she groaned, "just gonna have a headache for the rest of the day. No concussion this time," she answered.
"Medical?" He offered.
"Not necessary."
Their short conversation didn't go unnoticed by the recruits. Some exchanged glances, others whispered about them. Their talk was about how well the two assassins must know each other to communicate so effectively with so little actually said. Others mused on how they must be sleeping together, in reaction to seeing Clint pound Brandt to a bloody pulp for trying to assault his partner.
Clint and Natasha ignored them for the time being, more interested in what they were going to do with their now former recruit. Clint called Maria Hill to inform her of what happened. Natasha called a couple of agents and a med team to escort Brandt out of the gym. He was still unconscious when they arrived, so it wasn't much of a hassle.
Clint and Natasha dismissed their trainees. A few minutes after the class dispersed, they were called up to Director Fury's office. A quick glance at each other was all they needed before heading up to see Fury.
Natasha strolled through the door without knocking, he knew they were coming, so why bother. Clint came in a moment later. They sat in chairs next to each other, across the table from where Maria sat. Fury was standing in the window, arms crossed over his chest. The four agents were silent for several minutes, but the air wasn't tense. If anything it was relaxed and only slightly miffed.
"He deserved it," Clint broke the silence, earning a smirk from Hill and Natasha. Fury huffed a laugh.
"No shit," the man with the eye-patch stated. He really didn't care that Barton had beat up a possible new agent. The idiot had thought it a good idea to attack one of the best agents in the organization. He deserved what he got.
Clint laughed and Natasha smirked. Fury turned to face them, and he too, was smirking. The only one who didn't look amused was Maria.
"We need a full report on the situation," Maria spoke up.
"From the beginning?" Clint asked. Maria nodded and looked to Natasha.
"I walked into the gym and greeted the recruits, explaining what was going to happen. Jared Brandt challenged me to a sparring match. I took him down in about seven seconds," Natasha explained, then added, "without injuring him."
Clint smirked and took over, "That's when I jumped down from the rafters, well I repelled down, but semantics..." he shrugged. He shook his head and continued, "Natasha got up and we called them to order. We went through some sparring exercises, then paired everyone up to practice with each other."
"We brought them back to the central mats, and showed them how to really spar. Clint and I fought for about twenty minutes before he pinned me." Natasha, against typical assumptions about her, didn't have a problem admitting when someone bested her. She just made sure it didn't happen the same way twice.
"When I addressed the recruits about whether or not they had questions, Brandt smirked and challenged Agent Romanoff to another match, thinking that because I had beat her, he could." Maria and Fury both had equally amused expressions at the thought of someone other than Clint being able to take down the Widow. "I even warned him what would happen, but he didn't listen. He believed she had gotten lucky the first time they sparred." Clint explained. "Fucking idiot."
Natasha snorted. "So I accepted the challenge and wiped the floor with his ass." She stated unprofessionally. That got a smirk from the brunette across the table and the director. Natasha rarely dropped the professional mask she wore at work.
"And what happened next?" Maria prompted the agents. Clint's expression grew serious and slightly angry.
"We turned back to the others," He started. "With our backs turned, he tried to sneak up on the Widow. Before he had a chance to touch her, I twisted his arm behind his back and trapped the other as well." Clint explained. He was good at hiding his emotions. His anger barely showing through voice. If you didn't know him, you might have missed it.
"I turned around and dismissed him on the spot. Told him to get his things and leave. He called me a 'fucking bitch' and thrashed around. No way he could've escaped Clint, though." Natasha smirked. "When he didn't comply, I threatened to call security to escort him out. He stopped thrashing and agreed to leave. Clint took a moment more before releasing him." Natasha stopped.
Clint picked up where she ended, "Next thing he did was attack Agent Romanoff. Before I had a chance to restrain him, he lunged for her and punched her in the temple." Clint gestured to the bruise on the side his partner's head. "She was knocked down from the force of the blow, her head hit the mat hard." Clint was glowering now. He usually was able to keep his cool, but when someone threatened his partner, they'd better watch out.
Natasha placed a gentle, reassuring hand on his shoulder, bringing him out of his head and back to the problem at hand. He still needed to finish his side of the events.
"I lost my temper and defended Nat. I beat him unconscious, leaving him with broken bones and probably a concussion. Once he was out I made sure Nat was okay," Clint finished.
Maria and Fury nodded, Maria writing something down on her tablet. Fury looked to Natasha, a clear question of whether or not she was okay written on his face.
"I'm good. No concussion, just a bruise and a headache." Natasha confirmed. Fury studied her intently for another minute before nodding, believing she was telling the truth.
"Now I have to ask, on the record," Maria said hesitantly, "are you two sleeping together?"
Natasha looked completely shocked by the question. "Of course not!" She defended. She looked to Clint, a mistake on her part. The look on his face was anger mixed with what Natasha interpreted as, was that shame? She wasn't sure why he would be ashamed, though.
"No," he addressed the Assistant Director. "We aren't." With that, he stood and left the room, the door slamming on his way out.
Natasha just sat there, shell-shocked. What had just happened? Fury studied the door, the floor, anything except the assassin left in front of him. Maria looked apologetic and addressed Natasha, "We just needed to know. It's nothing against being romantically involved, you're adults and can make your own decisions. Unfortunately, with partnerships, being in relationships often causes compromised missions. We're sorry if we offended you. That was not the intent. It was imperative to know what your relationship is." Maria over-explained.
Honestly, Natasha wasn't sure what to think of the accusation. She supposed it was natural for people to come to the conclusion that her and Clint slept together. They spent the majority of their free time together, hanging out and training. She could see how people would misinterpret their partnership and friendship as something more than it was.
Maria looked at Agent Romanoff thoughtfully before saying, "you're dismissed, Agent Romanoff." It was the nicest Maria got while still trying to remain professional.
Natasha nodded mutely and left. She went in search of Clint, knowing he was probably hiding in one of his usual haunts.
First she checked the shooting range and came up empty. Next she checked the small gym and when she didn't find him there, she checked the larger gym. She checked his nests all over base. Finally she decided to just check his room.
That's where she finally found him. He was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.
"Hey," she greeted quietly. "Everything okay?"
"Fine," he grunted. He stood and moved to leave the room. She caught his arm and pulled him to face her. His glare was met with a look of confusion and concern.
"Talk to me," she prompted, "Please." The 'please' caught him by surprise. She was rarely ever that polite with him. They were usually blunt and open about things. Rarely did they actually have to ask the other about anything.
"It's nothing, Natasha," he mumbled angrily.
She stiffened at the name. He never used her full name unless he was angry with her. It put her on edge. She wasn't sure what she had done, but his demeanor had changed during their debrief. His hurried exit baffled her.
"Go," he said. She shook her head. She didn't want to leave him without getting an answer. His behavior was so unlike him.
"Why won't you talk to me?" She asked.
"What do you want me to say?" He asked blankly. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not." She stated stubbornly. "You're not 'fine'. Something is wrong and you aren't telling me. Clint you tell me everything." Her last sentence was quiet, not quite a whisper.
"Not everything," he mumbled so she wouldn't hear him.
"Clint, please," she grabbed his wrist again, tugging him around to face her. "Tell me what you're thinking." She didn't care if she was begging. He was her best friend and now he was keeping things from her, when they had promised to never lie to each other.
Instead of saying anything, Clint brought his hand to the back of her neck and the other wound its way around her waist. He pulled her against him and crushed his lips to hers. It was over before she could react. He released her body as if it had burned him.
Natasha stood there gaping at him. She brought her hand subconsciously to her lips. She was speechless and couldn't seem to find any words. Clint looked upset and angry. He stormed out of his room, leaving a confused Natasha in his wake.
When she was finally able to compose herself, she rushed from the room and back to her own living quarters. She locked the door and slid down it until she was sitting on the floor, knees tucked up against her chest. Her fingers traced her lips where his had been as she thought about everything.
What was that? Why had he kissed her? And why was he angry? Why did he leave her? The thoughts swirled through her mind. She needed answers and the only way she would get them would be from him.
She stood from the ground and left her room. She hurried down the halls, looking for Clint in all of the places she had checked earlier. When she couldn't find him, she texted him and called his cell. He wasn't answering. She knew he was just ignoring her, but she needed to talk to him.
Natasha was so distracted with her thoughts, her face buried in her phone that she bumped into Maria. The brunette let out an "oof" sound as the sudden collision.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Agent Hill." Natasha murmured. "Have you seen Clint around? I need to talk to him." Natasha made sure to keep her voice calm and casual, not betraying the emotions roiling inside of her.
"He just left. He requested a mission and left about twenty minutes ago. He didn't tell you?" Maria looked surprised at the thought. One assassin left and the other didn't know about it? That couldn't be a good sign.
Natasha sighed, "Do you know how long he will be gone?" Natasha was trying to not sound desperate and thought she did a pretty good job of it.
Maria gave her a long, measuring look before answering. "About two weeks. He should be back by then, but it could be three weeks."
Natasha thanked the assistant director then left in search of Agent Coulson. He was in his office working on paperwork when she found him. He looked up upon hearing her enter the room. The look on his face was guilt mixed with concern.
"Why?" She asked bluntly.
"He requested it, Natasha. He didn't say why, but I assume it has something to do with you?" Coulson guessed correctly.
Natasha dropped unceremoniously onto the couch in the office with a sigh. Many times she had been on this couch with Clint and without. For briefings, debriefings, short talks, lectures and in complete silence just observing. She had spent a lot of time in her handler's office for varying reasons. It was one of the few places she was comfortable letting down her walls and opening up.
Her head fell into her hands and she sighed deeply, frustrated. She stayed that way for a while. Coulson didn't want her to stay quiet though, so he asked, "What happened, Natasha?"
"He kissed me," she mumbled into her hands. He didn't hear the words, just a muffled jumble of noise.
"What?"
She lifted her head and looked him directly in the eye and spoke clearly. "He kissed me." Her expression hardened from confused to angry. "He kissed me and didn't explain why and then he just left. What the Hell am I supposed to think about that, Phil?" She propelled herself off the couch and moved toward the window, staring out at nothing. "Why did he do it?" She asked quietly, not looking at him.
"Why did he kiss you? Or why did he leave?" Phil asked. He knew she could mean either one of those things and probably meant both of them. But he could only answer one at a time so he needed to know what she was thinking.
She looked at him then. Her eyes filled with confusion once more. She looked on the verge of a break down, which Phil knew would never happen. As comfortable as she was with him, as much emotion she let him see, no one would ever see her broken. No one except for the archer causing her turmoil.
"Why did he kiss me?" she asked, her voice dangerously close to cracking. She closed her eyes and steeled herself. She would not let herself lose control. She couldn't.
Phil stood from him desk chair and reached a hand out to Natasha's shoulder. He guided her over to the couch, where they sat down. Natasha took a deep breath, waiting for his answer.
"I think you know the answer to that question. You aren't blind to your effect on men. You can't have missed the signs from Clint." Phil stated.
Natasha just looked at him bemused. "Clint's never shown any interest in me that way. Maybe when we were first partnered, but he's always just treated me like a sister or a friend..." she trailed off.
"You don't believe that, do you? He's good at hiding, it's one of his best skills. It wouldn't be hard for him to hide his feelings, would it? It would be hard to hide them from you because you know him so well." The older agent explained. "And he may have done a good job keeping you in the dark, but the rest of us could see it from a mile away. There were plenty of signs."
"What are you talking about?" Natasha demanded. "What signs?"
Coulson just pegged her with a look that said really? But he answered nonetheless. "He is always with you. He won't hang out with anyone else. Whenever you get hurt, he stays with you in medical until he is forcible removed or you are allowed to leave, and even then he stays with you. When someone else threatens you, they don't live long after. The most recent proof was that stunt during training. Brandt is a class A jerk and deserved what he got. But Clint wouldn't have done for just anyone."
"So...what? What is it you're trying to tell me?" Natasha nearly shouted in frustration. She hated these mind games. She was terrible at all the 'feelings' stuff and didn't know what to think or how to handle it.
Phil couldn't believe how truly confused and naive she was. Did she really not know how much in love her partner was with her?
"He loves you, Natasha. He has for a while." Phil said slowly and clearly. He wasn't sure if it was the best idea, but given what transpired between them not long ago, he figured it need to be said.
Natasha went white as a sheet and swayed a little. Coulson held her shoulder as she wrapped her mind around that revelation. She clearly had never even considered this a possibility.
"You really had no idea," the handler stated in surprise. Natasha didn't seem to hear him, or if she did, didn't acknowledge it.
"So that's why- but he never- and then he- oh God," Her hand covered her mouth while the other clutched her stomach. She looked as though she were about to vomit. Coulson grabbed the trash can on the side of the couch and thrust it in front of her in time for her to spew the contents of her stomach into the bin.
When she finished, she wiped her mouth with the tissue Coulson had produced from the side table. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she opened them, Coulson could see her annoyance, fear, confusion and anger. He could only guess the meaning behind each, but was pretty sure as to what they were directed at.
"Thank you for telling me." Natasha said blankly before standing and moving toward the door.
"Natasha," the older agent called to her. "When you need to talk, I'll be here." He offered. He knew she may never talk to him, but he always reassured her he would be there for her.
She nodded once then exited the room. Natasha walked calmly, almost thoughtlessly to her room. She shut down her emotions and wore a cold mask of indifference as she passed agents and workers. No one would see inside her head.
When she felt safe back in her room, she collapsed on her bed. The day had been one crazy event after another and she was drained from it. The red haired assassin curled up into a ball, letting her mind drifted. She didn't think about Brandt or Clint or Coulson. She didn't think about the fight, the kiss or the revelation. She didn't fight it when sleep took over, just let it wash over her and claim her.
In the morning when she woke, she had a text message. She grabbed her phone and noticed it was from Clint. Anger struck her suddenly. He had kept his feeling from her, that she could understand. But he kissed her and left her without explaining. That made her angrier than having him lie to her face.
She ignored the message. Instead, choosing to go through her morning routine. She showered and dressed for her morning workout. After the workout she had her breakfast and moved on to training the recruits. Now that Barton wasn't there, she had Hill filling in and training with her. The brunette clearly felt inconvenienced by this change, but was professional anyway.
That night, before Natasha fell asleep, she got another two messages. Both of them were from Barton, and both of them went ignored.
The next two weeks passed in much the same manner. Natasha ran through her daily routines and ignored anything having to do with the archer. She had decided that if he could ignore her she would ignore him. If he felt like leaving her after something significant and important happened, then she would move on to other things.
She spent her time training the recruits. The weak, unworthy ones had been weeded out in the first few days. After the first week, there was only one girl and ten guys left. Natasha and Maria were disappointed in how many had left or been dismissed, but that just meant they weren't good enough to do this work.
By the end of the two weeks of training, there were only six men and one woman left. They were all promising agents. Natasha was slightly impressed that they had made it this far when so many of their peers had dropped out. They were set up in the testing center, about to take the written exam when Natasha's phone started ringing.
Natasha shared a look with Maria before walking out of the room and answering the phone. She didn't glance at the caller ID, figuring it was either Coulson or Fury. No one else would be interrupting her during the exam.
"Romanoff," she greeted coolly.
"Hey, Tasha," a hesitant Clint answered from the other end of the line.
Natasha stood frozen. She hadn't been expecting him to call. He had given up messaging and calling her several days prior because she kept ignoring him. She wasn't prepared to talk to him, to address the issues she had over what happened between them.
"Tasha?" Clint's voice was nervous and uncertain, "You there?"
"Yes," she replied blandly. "I can't talk now. I have to test the recruits. Talk to me when you come back." She was cool and professional, not giving him a chance to speak. "Goodbye, Clint."
"Wait! Nat-" Clint tried to stop her but she hung up on him. After she put her voice away, she sagged against the wall and let out the breath she'd been holding. She gave herself a minute to freak out over the fact that he called and she had brushed him off. She had been cold and hung up on him. He may have been an idiot for kissing her and leaving, but she was being equally as stupid, acting like a teenager trying to exact revenge on her best friend.
When she regained her composure, she reentered the exam room. Maria glanced up in curiosity. Natasha shook her head once. Maria gave a quick nod then looked back down to her paperwork. Natasha scanned the room of recruits, observing how well they were working and trying to determine who was having more difficulty.
A few hours later revealed that all of the recruits had passed their written exams, but only four of the men passed their shooting and weapons assessments. The top of the class was the lone female recruit by the name of Agent Sarah Whitley. Natasha would be sure to keep an eye on her progress as a junior agent. Natasha was proud of Agent Whitley for being the only girl left and to beat the boys by miles. It proved that women could be as tough as men, which didn't happen often in an organization like SHIELD.
When Natasha was finally able to retire to her room, she made a bee-line to the shower. The water was hot and helped to relax the tension in her shoulders and neck. Training was stressful. Making sure they passed and then filling out the paperwork for each of the recruits and teaching them how to fill out their own paperwork was a nightmare in itself.
Her door closing snapped her out of her thoughts and the tension returned to her shoulders. No one should be entering her room. No one had the clearance, except for Coulson, Hill and the Director, but none of them would come in unannounced and she hadn't heard a knock. The only other person who would be allowed in was currently on a mission.
She silently stepped out of the shower, leaving the water running. She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her body, then grabbed the gun that was hidden under the sink. She listened at the door, waiting for a sound to tell her where the intruder was in her room, and perhaps give her an idea of why they might be there.
"It's me, Nat," A gruff voice called from the other side of the door. "Stow your gun and get back in the shower."
Natasha whipped the door open to reveal none other than Clint Barton sitting on the edge of her bed, head in his hands. She just stared at him, not able to process all of the emotions suddenly bubbling to the surface. He looked up at her, a small, hesitant smile on his lips, as if he isn't sure if she is going to kick him out or not.
Natasha held his gaze for a few minutes before shutting the bathroom door, breaking the connection and giving her space. She leaned back against the door and took a deep breath, trying to reign in her thoughts and emotions. She turned off the shower and started to dry her body. The red haired assassin wiped the fog from the mirror with her hand and stared at her reflection. She wasn't ready to face her partner yet. After ignoring him for three weeks, after he kissed her and left her without an explanation, she was still angry.
But she'd had time to think. She had learned why he kissed her, but she had yet to figure out why he left. He loved her and apparently, according to Coulson, had been in love with her for a while now. She was confused and hurt that he left, but she also realized that she had feelings for him as well. She couldn't tell if it was just infatuation over the fact that he kissed her or if she really did like him.
Natasha couldn't ignore the fact he was waiting for her in the other room for much longer, so she adjusted her towel around her and walked out into her room. She didn't speak to him or look at him. She simply grabbed a t-shirt, underwear and some yoga pants from her dresser and got dressed. She faced away from him as she dropped her towel. She wasn't going to acknowledge him until she was dressed.
As soon as her towel dropped, she heard his intake of breath. Natasha smirked, knowing the effect her nakedness was causing on the archer. She slowly got dressed, making him wait and teasing him just a little. They had never been modest in front of each other and now was no different.
After she was finished and had no other reason to avoid him, she turned and crossed her arms, staring him down. His gray-blue eyes locked onto her own green ones. They were pleading with her to understand, to accept what he wanted to tell her, but hadn't voiced. She blinked, gave the smallest of nods and sat down next to him.
He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, before speaking. "I'm sorry." He sighed. "I shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have kissed you. I crossed a line and fucked this up." He dropped his head into his hands again.
She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up at her. "Just tell me why," she said. It wasn't question, but also wasn't a demand. It was said in a way that told him she already had an idea of the answer. She just needed to hear him say it.
"I love you," he whispered, afraid of her reaction. He stared into her eyes for a long moment, trying to gauge her reaction. After a minute, she nodded once. The hand that had been on his shoulder moved to cup his face. She stroked her thumb across cheek.
"Why did you run?" She asked.
He looked away from her, ashamed. "I didn't want you to just shut me down. You're always spouting 'love is for children' and I didn't want to ruin our friendship over this." Then in a quieter voice, almost that she couldn't hear him, he added, "I didn't want to be rejected."
She cupped his other cheek with her free hand and turned him to face her.
"I've had some time to think," Natasha responded. With reservation, she continued, "I'd like to try something."
Before Clint could respond, she leaned in and kissed him. Her velvet soft lips pressed against him, stunning the archer. Her lips moved against his as he sat stock still in shock. When he didn't respond, she thought maybe she had overstepped a line or something and started to back off. As she was about to pull away, he regained his composure. He brought his hand up to the back of her neck, keeping her lips locked to his, and kissed her back passionately.
The kiss only lasted a few minutes before the two pulled back, breathing heavily. Natasha rested her forehead against Clint's, her eyes closed. Her hands rested on his shoulders, his left rested on the back of her neck, his right cupping her jaw.
"Not just infatuation," she murmured to herself.
"Hmm?" he asked confusedly upon hearing her.
"I think-" she paused, "that I might l-love you too," she blushed and looked away. She chastised herself for the weak moment. He turned her face back to his with a finger under her chin.
"Why are you hiding?" he frowned. "We don't hide from each other, remember?"
"Then why did you hide this from me?" She snarked and immediately regretted it. He recoiled his hand from her and looked away. She sighed, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"
"No," he stopped her. "You're right. I have no right to ask you to be open with me when I kept this from you."
"Hey," she brought him back to face her yet again. "I didn't mean it. Don't do that to yourself. You didn't tell me because you knew I wasn't ready to hear it. I still don't quite know if I'm ready, but I'm willing to try." She rested her forehead against his. "We're partners, and this? These feelings? They don't change that, okay?"
"Okay," he pulled her against him in a crushing hug, confirming to himself that she was not about to abandon him for his stupidity.
"So," she broke the silence that had fallen over them, "you love me?" She asked like she couldn't really believe it.
She hadn't been raised with love, had been taught to believe it was a weakness. After she'd met Clint and returned with him to SHIELD, he had earned her trust and taught her, slowly, that there was such a thing as love. He taught her that people could genuinely care for each other without expecting something in return. Slowly, she started believing him. She could see that other people could love someone, but she never believed anyone could love her. She was too broken, her past was too red.
"I do, Tasha," Clint pressed a kiss to her hair. "I really do."
"Okay," she accepted his answer. She stayed cuddled up in his arms for a while longer. Clint eventually spoke, saying that he had to go shower and change. He had just gotten back from his mission and made his way to her room immediately after his debrief. She reluctantly let him go, closing her door behind him.
When he was gone, she leaned against the door, thinking about the kiss they shared just a short while earlier. It had been strange at first, because he hadn't reacted, he just stayed frozen. But once he started kissing back, it had been passionate and sweet and full of desire. Natasha recalled the familiar heat pooling low in her belly, how he'd been able to bring out that feeling so easily.
Natasha walked backed over to her bed and laid down on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling, not noticing the smile gradually growing on her lips.
Clint stood in the shower, thinking about their kiss. The passion and love he felt from Natasha. He thought about how she hadn't rejected him completely and called him an idiot for believing in love. She was actually starting to believe it too. Or at least, she was willing to try.
When he was finished cleaning himself and he had gotten dressed, he found himself walking back through the hallways to Natasha's door. He stood there for a while, just staring at it. He raised his hand to knock, but before he could, the door flew open.
Natasha stood there with a small smile on her face.
"Hi." she said quietly.
"Hey," he rubbed the back of his neck, smiling nervously.
"Do you want to come in?" Tasha asked, already knowing the answer. She moved into her room, figuring he would just come in.
"Mhm," he nodded and followed her into the room, closing the door behind him.
Natasha sat down on the bed and pulled her legs up against her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. She looked up at Clint. He looked so awkward standing in the middle of the room, like he didn't know what to do with himself.
She smiled, chuckling. "You can come sit down," she said like it was the most obvious thing- and it really was. The red haired assassin unfolded her body, letting her knees fall apart until she was sitting in a relaxed lotus position. She watched him shuffle awkwardly over to the bed, thinking. They had been friends for so long that they invaded each others spaces without thought to it. Now, there were emotions and it was a bit awkward when it shouldn't be. Clint sat down stiffly next to Natasha, not looking at her.
"God, Clint," she huffed a sigh, "stop acting like a teenager on his first date!"
He gaped at her sudden outburst. She just rolled her eyes, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and dragging him into a heated kiss. He squawked in surprise before relaxing against her. He slanted his mouth over hers and deepened the kiss. He slipped his tongue in her mouth and she moaned at the change.
Carefully, Clint lowered Natasha down on the mattress, moving so he was above her. He pulled out of the kiss and the two locked gazes. An unspoken question from him. An unvoiced answer from her.
The archer brought his lips down to his partner's neck. He nipped and kissed and suckled the soft flesh there. Exploring her skin, and yet still, knowing exactly how to please her and make her squirm.
His fingers teased the bottom of her shirt, tugging it up slowly, giving her time to say 'no' or 'stop'. She didn't. Instead, she grabbed the hem and pulled it over her head, discarding the material on the floor, leaving her upper half completely bare to him.. She framed his face with her hands, promising with her eyes that this was what she wanted.
She trusted him. He could see it in her eyes. So he trusted her, knowing that she was ready to take this step. He sat up and pulled his shirt off before leaning back down the capture her lips with his. He trailed kisses down her neck, her chest, between her breasts. He exhaled a breathy sigh as he continued down her stomach.
His fingers found the the waistband of her yoga pants, pulling at them. She lifted her hips slightly as he slid the clothing off her body, along with her panties. He looked up at her through his lashes and saw the lustful desire and intense need in her gaze. His breath caught in his throat at how completely naked she was, emotionally and physically and only for him.
She threaded her fingers through his short, sandy hair, playfully tugging at the strands. He smiled devilishly up at her before leaning down and biting the front of her left hip. She gasped in response to the sudden sensation. Her eyes fluttered shut as he peppered kisses and bites across her hips. She was very sensitive there.
His direction changed, his lips moving down to the apex of her thighs. Her breath caught in her throat as she thought about this, giving him this part of her. She didn't allow many men to do this for her, it made her feel too vulnerable.
She didn't realize she was holding her breath until Clint moved back up, his face inches from her. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek.
"Hey, hey, shh," he cooed. "Tasha, breath. I won't do this if you don;t want me too. I will stop." He assured her. "I won't do anything you aren't ready for."
She took a deep breath, her eyes stayed closed as she fought to control her thoughts. She trusted him, she wanted this, it just scared the hell out of her.
"I'm okay," she whispered. Then, her voice stronger, "I'm okay." She opened her eyes to a very concerned Clint hovering over her.
"Do you want to stop?" He asked, needing to be one-hundred percent sure she was ready for this.
"Y-yes, just..." she took another deep breath. "just maybe not that. Not yet," she looked up at him sheepishly.
"Anything you want, Tasha." He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then his lips found hers once more. She smiled then kissed back, sweeping her tongue across his lips, requesting entrance. He opened up and their tongues battled for dominance.
As she distracted him with her tongue, she flipped them over so she was on top. Gone was the shy girl, playful Tasha taking her place. She smirked at Clint's shock before lowering her lips to his neck. Her hands trailed patterns across his chest and down his stomach, tugging at the waistband of is jeans.
"You're wearing to many clothes," she mumbled against his skin. She sat up, unzipped his jeans and pulled them off almost to quickly for him to follow. He wasn't wearing anything underneath. Nice. She thought.
She grinned wolfishly as she bowed her head down to his already hard cock, kissing just to the left on his pelvis. He moaned as she playfully nipped at his hip as he had done to her. Turnabout was fair play, after all.
Finally, she turned her attention to his dick, licking the tip before wrapping her lips around him and swallowing him down. She boobed her head, each time taking him further down in her mouth. When he hit the back of her throat, she relaxed her gag reflex, swallowing all of him down until her nose pressed against his groin.
He groaned at the sensation of her hot, wet mouth surrounding him. He threaded his fingers through her ruby locks, keeping his hips as still as possible. He didn't want to thrust up into her mouth and hurt her.
She pulled back off him slowly, her cheeking hollowing as she sucked. She repeated the process a few more times before her tugged her hair.
"Tasha, gotta stop." He panted. "God, you feel so good baby. Wanna make love to you, Tasha." He groaned.
She released him with a 'pop' and crawled back up his body. He cupped her jaw with his left hand, his thumb sweeping back and forth across her swollen lips. Snaking his hand to the back of her neck, he pulled her into a rough kiss.
His right hand moved low on her body, finding the wet heat between her legs. He stroked her lower lips and she gasped, inadvertently allowing his tongue entrance to her mouth. He continued stroking her slit, then pushed a finger inside of her, causing her to moan in pleasure. He added a second finger, then, feeling how wet she was.
Clint rolled them over again so he was on top. She arched her back, pressing her breast to his chest. He grinned and lowered his mouth to one while his free hand played with the other. Natasha writhed underneath his expert touch, marveling at how well he worked her body.
Slowly, so as not to scare her, he trailed kisses down her body. She knew what he was doing, knew that at the slightest hesitation from her, her would stop and they would do something different. But she wanted this, wanted to let him do this for her and now that she was prepared for it, she wasn't as scared.
When he reached her center, he glanced up at her. She nodded once and smiled. That was all he needed before swiping his tongue across her slit. She gasped, her back arching up off the bed. He continued to lick her and suck her. He pushed his tongue inside her and wiggled it, eliciting a moan from above him.
He moved his lips to her clit, sucking and kissing it. He brought his left hand up, pushing two fingers inside as he sucked on the bundle of nerves.
She was panting, so close to the edge and needing release. He curled his digits, massaging the soft spongy spot within her. Baring his teeth, he grazed her clit with a light nip, sending her over the edge. She fluttered around his fingers as her eyes rolled back in pleasure.
When she calmed he pulled his fingers from her, causing her to whimper at the loss. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked her juices from them, smiling down wickedly at her. She squirmed under his gaze.
He released his hand, and bent low to her ear, murmuring, "you taste so good Tasha." He bit down on her earlobe and she gasped. Her hand wound its way into his hair, her nails scarping over his scalp lightly. Her other arm reaching between them, seeking out his erection. She grasped him in her hand and pumped once, twice.
She lined him up to her center, pulling his hair until he was looking her in the eye. They locked gazes as she guided him. He pressed the tip of his cock to her cunt, slowly, carefully, sliding into her in one smooth motion.
The both moaned in pleasure then. The sensation of her heat encasing him, how he filled her so completely, had them both breathless and needy. Clint stilled once he was fully seated inside of her, allowing her body time to adjust.
He peppered kisses over her eyes, her cheeks, her nose- anywhere he could reach. She nodded when she was ready. He captured her lips with his and pulled out slowly, and pushed back in. He set a gentle rhythm of thrusts, matched by her own hips. They rocked against each other, bringing each other closer to release.
When Natasha couldn't take the slow pace anymore, she wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his ass, pressing him closer, harder. Clint got the gist and started moving at a quicker pace. Evidently not quick enough for Natasha. She growled and tried to make him move faster.
"I'm not gonna break, Barton," she prodded, hoping he would trust her.
"I know, Tasha." He kissed her again. "I just want this to be good for you." He looked a little shy with his answer and her resolve softened.
"I know," she smiled softly, "it'll be good because it's with you." She kissed him then smirked. "Now move." She rolled her hips up into his. He moaned and thrust sharply into her in reply. She gasped as he set a new, faster pace, thrusting more insistently into her.
She was dangerously close now, and he could tell. Her breath coming out in pants and moans and whimpers. She kept uttering things like 'please' and 'more' and 'faster' and he was all to happy to comply.
He reached down between their bodies, finding her clit and pressing his thumb to it, rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves. He saw the exact moment when she found her release. Her brows creased in a frown, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Her nails dug into his shoulders as her body clenched around him.
All he could think at that moment was how beautiful she looked and how much he loved her. She was allowing herself to be vulnerable to him, giving him something she gave so few others.
He brushed her hair out of her face and slowed his thrusts, easing her down from her high. She opened her eyes when her heart had calmed slightly and smiled up at him. He moved inside her and her eyes widened a fraction.
"You didn't...?"
He shook his head and smiled, "I was focused on you."
She smirked up at him. "Well then, we'd better take care of that." She flipped him over onto his back, allowing him to slip out of her. She lowered her body until she was level once more with his cock. She took him in her mouth and sucked.
This time he gripped the sheets instead of her hair. His hips thrust unwillingly into her mouth, but she took it in stride, opening her throat and swallowing him down. Her head bobbed slightly, letting him use her mouth as he sky-rocketed towards orgasm. As she felt him tighten up, she took him all the way down and hummed tunelessly. The vibrations sending shockwaves to his system.
He came in thick spurts down her throat as she swallowed around him. His cock pulsed inside her mouth. When he was done, she pulled away. She opened her mouth to show him his come on her tongue before she swallowed it.
He groaned and pulled her up to kiss her passionately. He moaned as he tasted himself on her tongue. She smirked when she pulled away.
"Damn," he chuckled. "I...damn."
She laughed, "Is that all you can say?"
She rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers traced patterns over his heart. Her smiled faded once he couldn't see her. She didn't know what to think know. Was that okay? Did this change anything between them? He had admitted to her before that he loved her. She was most definitely in love with him. But now she was sure he still wanted her like that. Was it just a ploy to get with her?
Her mind continued to race. Clint noticed the sudden change in her mood and grew immediately concerned.
"Hey," he called to her, "I didn't mean- I mean, I just- I-" He growled. "Dammit I'm messing this up." He dragged a hand across his face.
She refused to look up at him, still feeling insecure about this. She hated feeling insecure with him.
"Tasha," she could her the pleading in his voice. He cupped her chin and tilted her face so he could meet her eyes before releasing her chin and entwining his fingers with her. "I love you." He assured her.
"I love you so much, Tasha." He dropped a kiss to her head. "And that- that was amazing. You are amazing, but it doesn't change anything. I still love you."
"How did you-"
"Know?" He smirked. "I can read you a lot better than you realize."
She blushed. "Thank you."
"For what?" His confused face was adorable to her and she smiled.
"Everything," she kissed him lightly on the lips before resting her head over his heart.
"Anything for you, Tasha." He promised. She fell asleep listening to his heartbeat.
Natasha's fears didn't go away over night and Clint still didn't know how ready she was for this change in their relationship. But they worked on it and tried to be honest with each other from then on. Because they did love each other and didn't want to hurt each other.
The end...
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please leave a review!