Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Marvel's Avengers Assemble. I wish I did.
The next time they're said, the words are without the shroud of alcohol. Ten years have passed since Natasha was first brought to SHIELD by Clint, and by now they have taken up rooms in the tower with the rest of the team. Their relationship has barely differed, both of them finding no reason to disrupt the way they lived their lives. They move seamlessly through different stages – partners in the field, friends in the workplace, to something a little deeper and much more personal when they are alone. Neither of them questions the relationship they have because it works.
Natasha had just returned from a solo mission when he came to see her. Three months apart and a broken wrist left him with nothing to do but to almost pine for her, finding that he missed her much more than he thought he would have done. She had teased him before she left about him missing her, but he had brushed it off with a counter remark and a cheeky smile.
The coffee in her favourite mug is handed to her before the words are spoken again. She takes the mug and places it on the desk in front of her, next to the first aid kit that is strewn across the wooden surface. She's in the middle of dressing the wound on her thigh he speaks.
"I love you."
He didn't plan it; the words just slipped out of his mouth. He blinked a few times, surprised at what he has said and how fast the words managed to escape him – words that he had been holding back for some time, refusing to admit his feelings to her. He knows that he shouldn't have let himself get so involved with her, that he shouldn't have let his feelings take over. He knows that they won't be reciprocated by her and that he is foolish for even falling for her. Her response to his words is to immediately roll her eyes, acting as though she has not heard his words.
"Natasha. I love you."
He finds it easier to say them this time, licking his suddenly dry lips while he looks at her. She finishes dressing her wound and tapes the bandages down, not daring to meet his eyes.
"No you don't."
Her words are flat and uncaring as they meet his ears, the opposite to the feelings that are hiding in her eyes that refuse to look up to his.
"I do. I have done, for a while now."
"You shouldn't have let your emotions get in the way."
"They aren't in the way of anything, Tasha."
He began to grow impatient with her, finding that he is growing angry with the situation than anything else. He would have rather had her say that she didn't love him rather than tell him that his feelings weren't correct, telling him that he's lying to her.
"Love is for children, Barton."
Her voice is quiet, but firm with her words. He knew he had lost her at that moment. She didn't refer to him as Barton unless they were at work, or he had done something that had angered her.
"You're a liar, Natasha. You know you're wrong. Why can't you accept that this is happening? That this is our relationship now?"
It only takes a second before she's standing. The words start flowing from their mouths like they don't mean anything, screaming at each other with anger laced in their voices. Clint's bellowing at her, pointing fingers and telling her she's wrong while she defends her words, screeching at a decibel he didn't think she could reach. Their argument is loud enough to carry through the tower, their echoes bouncing off the walls as the argument becomes more intense. Soon noises start to accompany their voices, pieces of furniture being hit and kicked while they continue. He ends up storming out of her room, slamming the door shut with enough force to make the hinges groan. The mug of coffee that he brought for her is smashed against the other side, shattering to pieces as it impacts. He stalks off to his own room, leaving her to growl in hers.
It's a long time before either of them talk to each other after that and when they finally do, they return to how they were before the argument, like nothing had happened. They fall back into being partners in the field, nothing more and nothing less.