Hey guys, I was going to update this on Friday, but then I got distracted by brainstorming for later chapters (which I think you guys are going to love). Then I was going to update it last night, but college life got in the way. And I'm not talking about schoolwork. Anyways, here is the next chapter! Enjoy!

Clint sat on his bed later that night staring at the wallet. When he had gotten home from school, he had searched the wallet some more to see if there was more information on Miss Romanoff. A phone number. An address. Something that could give Clint some sort of clue as to how he could return the wallet to her. Knowing that she went to The Dalton School didn't really help and Clint just wasn't going to show up at the school one day and return it her. Besides, Clint had school himself to worry about. As much as he wanted to give this girl her wallet back, he wasn't going to skip school to do it, especially since he would have to travel to the Upper East Side in Manhattan to do it.

Clint had searched all the pockets and crevices in hopes of finding some sort of way to contact the red headed girl. In the process, he found that her wallet was stuffed with several platinum credit cards and gift cards to high end department stores. As if what she was wearing when he ran into her wasn't a clear enough indication that she was much better off than Clint, she owned all of these cards that clearly meant she could afford anything she wanted.

Fortunately, Clint did find another ID lodged in another pocket inside the wallet. It was a New York state driver's license which, of course, listed her home address. Why the ID was shoved in a pocket that was hidden from the rest, Clint had no clue. Either way, he knew of a way to give the wallet back to her since he knew her address.

However, there was a problem. Who was to say that Miss Romanoff wouldn't accuse Clint of stealing her wallet? It was perfectly valid. People from the Upper East Side could get vicious and nasty. There was no telling how she would react when he brought her wallet back to her. There was a possibility that she would thank him, and there was a possibility she would call the cops and frame him for stealing her wallet.

But Clint felt like she wasn't the type of girl to accuse him of stealing her wallet. She may be from the Upper East Side but there was just something about her that Clint saw that made her seem different from all the other snooty people.

He could be wrong. She could be just like everyone else from the Upper East Side. She could put on a nice girl façade and be just as cold-hearted and cruel as everyone else from that neighborhood. There was no way Clint would know unless he delivered her wallet to her.

As he continued to sit and stare at the wallet, contemplating how he was going to execute this, he realized that he was going to forgo a plan. He had vowed he would live a little. He was going to return her wallet to her and maybe she'd be really grateful for his act of kindness.

Then it was decided that Clint Barton would venture to the Upper East Side, find Natasha Romanoff, and return her wallet to her. And maybe, just maybe, he would ask her out.

And he would ask her out only if she didn't call the cops on him first.

When Clint awoke on Saturday morning, he got ready for his day like he normally did. He went downstairs and poured himself a bowl of cereal then went to sit on the couch to watch some cartoons. Eighteen years old and he still enjoyed the occasional Saturday morning cartoon.

He finished his cereal and headed back upstairs to get dressed. Grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from his dresser, he stripped out of his t-shirt and shorts and pulled on the clean clothes. He quickly ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth then ran back into his room to grab his wallet, his phone, and Natasha Romanoff's wallet.

He rushed down the steps and out of the house in hopes of avoiding his parents' and brother's questions. The last thing he needed them to know was that he had some stranger's wallet. He walked at a brisk pace down the sidewalk to the subway station to catch a train into the city. This whole trip was going to be exhausting and it was probably going to cost him a fortune, but he constantly reminded himself that he was doing it for good reason.

He reached the station and the train immediately barreled in, causing several patrons to take a step back. The train came to a stop and the doors opened with a whoosh. Clint stepped onto the train and grabbed a seat as quick as he could before anyone else could take it.

Once everyone was loaded onto the train, it lurched forward and sped off towards its next destination. Clint pulled out his phone and started playing a game from one of the apps. He knew he could so easily get lost in his game, but he knew he had to pay attention to the stops. In a few minutes he would have to switch to another train that would take him to the Upper East Side.

When he reached the station he needed to get off at, he rose from his seat and stepped off of the train to head to the platform that would take him to Midtown. Within a minute of arriving, the train bound uptown arrived. Clint quickly looked around at his surroundings and stepped on the train. The next time he would reemerge from the subway, he would be in the posh neighborhood of the Upper East Side.

Clint's eyes flitted back and forth between the driver's license and the building he stood in front of. He was almost certain he had the right address but for some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to walk into the building. He had traveled all this way from Brooklyn and across Manhattan to return her wallet to her and he was too chicken to do it.

"Young man, if you have no business with any of the residents of this building, I suggest you keep walking," the doorman said.

Clint shook his head to pull himself out of the daze he was in. He took a couple steps forward to approach the doorman. "Actually, I'm here to see Natasha Romanoff."

"What business do you have with Miss Romanoff?" the doorman asked inquisitively.

Clint hesitated. The doorman was most likely very suspicious of him right now. He would surely think Clint is a stalker if he told him why he was coming to see her. He barely even knew her. He had a legitimate reason for visiting her but he wasn't sure how creepy it would sound that he had her wallet.

"I, umm, I bumped into her the other day outside of the Met and knocked all of her books and papers out of her hands accidentally. She dropped her wallet and must've forgotten it. I'm just returning it," Clint said, holding up the wallet as evidence.

The doorman nodded. "That's very kind of you. I'll happily deliver it to Miss Romanoff." The doorman held out his hand for Clint to place the wallet in. However, Clint didn't budge. Instead, his grip on the wallet grew tighter.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather give it to her myself. I don't want her to think I'm a horrible person," Clint said.

The doorman stared at him for a couple seconds before gesturing towards the entrance to let Clint pass. Clint took a couple hesitant steps forward as the door man grabbed the door for him and held it open.

"Third floor, apartment 3B," the doorman muttered as Clint walked past him. Clint nodded and stepped into the luxurious lobby of the apartment building. He crossed the lobby to get to the elevators and pressed the button to summon an elevator.

It felt like an eternity until an elevator reached the lobby, but when it did, Clint rushed into the small box and pressed the button for the third floor. The elevator doors closed and it gave a sickening lurch as it was thrust upwards. Clint was suddenly nervous. He wasn't sure how to present himself. Does he tell her that he was sorry for running into her and making her drop her wallet? Does he just blatantly tell her he found her wallet? Does he just hand her the wallet and scram?

He was yanked out of his thoughts when the elevator doors slid open. He stared at the hallway for a second before stepping out of the elevator. There were only four doors in the entire hall but they were spread out with a good amount of wall space between them. Clint slowly and quietly made his way down the hall, checking the first two doors on both sides of him for apartment 3B.

Fortunately, apartment 3B was on his right and he turned to face the door. He stared at the door for a good few minutes before plucking up the courage to knock on the door. He hesitated at first, his fist hovering just a couple inches away from the door, but he eventually loudly rapped on the door three times.

"Stark, I swear to fucking God, I told you I don't want to drink Vlad with you," a voice from the other side of the door said. The door was angrily wrenched open to reveal a fuming Natasha Romanoff. The moment her eyes focused on Clint, her angry demeanor vanished and was replaced with a friendly façade. "Oh hi, sorry. I thought you were someone else. Can I help you?"

"I, uh, I…" Clint stuttered. She was standing right in front of him and he didn't know what to say. So, he just held up her wallet in response.

"Oh my God! You found it! Thank you so much!" she cried happily, snatching the wallet from Clint's hand. "You're the boy I ran into, right?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me!" she exclaimed.

"Umm, yeah, it was no problem," Clint said. He took in her features, but quicker this time. Her pale porcelain skin. Her red lips which stood out against her pale complexion. Her bright red curly hair. Her curves which were accentuated with a curve hugging ensemble.

"Just, thank you so much, umm…" she trailed off.

"Oh, Clint. Clint Barton," Clint said, holding out his hand for her to shake. Natasha took his hand into hers and they shook hands.

"Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. Thank you, Clint," she said graciously.

Clint nodded his head and then opened his mouth to say something when someone from within the apartment called out Natasha's name. "Natasha, babe, who's at the door?"

Immediately Clint saw Natasha's face fall in disgust as she heard the person make their way to the door. The door was pulled back further to reveal a blonde haired, blue eyed boy who was perfectly dressed in preppy clothing. The watch on his wrist was no doubt expensive and his hair was perfectly coiffed.

Natasha plastered a fake smile on her face as she turned to face the blonde boy. "Alexei, this is Clint. He found my wallet and he was just returning it to me."

"Ah, thank you so much. Natasha's been so worried," the boy named Alexei said. He reached out his hand to offer it up for Clint to shake. "Alexei Shostakov."

Clint took Alexei's hand and shook it. "Clint Barton. It was no problem."

Clint couldn't realize how stupid he had been. Of course a girl as gorgeous as Natasha Romanoff would have a boyfriend. She was from the Upper East Side. She was bound to have a boyfriend that was just as rich as her.

"Well," Alexei said, turning towards Natasha. "Think we should get ready for lunch with my parents?"

Natasha nodded and then turned back to Clint. "Thank you so much, again, for bringing me my wallet."

Clint nodded. Natasha flashed him a small smile before quietly closing the door. The sound of the snick echoed eerily throughout the hallway as Clint stood all by his lonesome, left to deal with how stupid he had been.

Clint dragged his feet as he made his way out of the apartment building. The doorman politely opened the door for him when he reached the front door. He bid the doorman a good day and started making his way back down Park Avenue to the nearest subway stop.

He shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and hung his head gloomily. He had been stupid to think that he could ask her out. Of course she had a boyfriend. She was from the Upper East Side. Even if he did ask her out, there was no way she would say yes to a boy from Brooklyn. Girls from the Upper East Side didn't date outside of their social class.

"Hey, wait!"

Clint turned around to see Natasha running after him, her curls bouncing with every stride she took. She stopped in front of Clint to catch her breath. "I'm sorry about Alexei. He doesn't know when to keep out of other people's business."

"He's your boyfriend I'm assuming so I guess it's his business too," Clint said with a shrug.

"I'm just…sorry," she said.

"It's okay."

Natasha looked at his for a couple more seconds before handing him a business card. "Ignore the front. It's my dad's business card. My number's on the back. Maybe we can get together some time?"

Clint hesitated to take the card but eventually, he did. He stared at her phone number, written in perfect penmanship, on the back of the card. He pried his eyes away from the phone to look into Natasha's captivating green eyes.

"Yeah, that would be cool," Clint said nonchalantly.

"Great," she said with a smile. "I've got to go but give me a call or text me some time, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Clint said. Natasha flashed Clint one more smile and she headed back up the sidewalk and disappeared back into her building. From where Clint was standing, he could see the doorman to Natasha's building wink and tip his hat at him. Clint chuckled to himself as he continued down Park Avenue, feeling like he was on cloud nine.

So Clint returned Natasha her wallet and got her number in the process. But things aren't going to be rainbows and butterflies for this story my dear readers. You guys know I have a penchant for romance, but I also have a knack for twists and turns. So buckle up you guys, it's going to be a bumpy ride. Also, my stories will be updated between Thursdays and Sundays (so weekends) throughout the week for those of you that have alerts for this story and any of my other stories.

As always, thank you for adding this to your favorites, signing up for alerts, and reviewing. Reviews are greatly appreciated so please let me know what you think of this chapter!