Thankyou to the few recent reviews I have received, honestly put a smile on my face when I saw them tonight which ended up being the reason I wrote this chapter tonight when I wasn't going to in the first place :-) I told you they boost my confidence!

It has been a long, hard three years since I was taken in by S.H.I.E.L.D. It took an extremely long time to actually finally fit in with others, and by fitting in I mean not getting stared at all the time. When I was doing my two year course to become Agent Romanoff, I spent all my classes in the very back row, or ate my lunch in the library or hid in my room any other time. Eventually Clint had been assigned to a mission that would take almost two years over in some poor country which was being ruled by a very dangerous force which could blow up the civilian population at the click of their fingers. We had only spent just over a year as partners, where he would look after me like I was some lost puppy, and it was a relief to finally have him off my trail all the time. Its good to breath in air that doesn't need to be shared.

After graduation, every agent that had finished the two year course was to be given a small mission to start off with to prepare them for the bigger ones. My graduate group and I had all been called into Coulson's office, the big room with the round table, where over a dozen missions were assigned to a group of agents, two or three at the most, but when I was the last one remaining in the room and my name had not been called out and Coulson acted like I wasn't there anymore, I felt my blood boil. I had changed my ways to come to this place and now I wasn't even being treated the same after three years of putting up with all this shit I knew everything about. I stood up from the chair I had been seated in and walked over to Coulson, who was stacking papers together and organizing his already perfect desk.

"Excuse me, Agent Coulson,"

He jumped so high that I thought he was going to hit his head on the roof… figuratively. "Holy shit, Agent Romanoff, I didn't even know you were still in here!" he panted, and I was so shocked at his reaction. The normally calm and collected man was leaning against his desk in shock. I smiled inwards at the thought, but pressed my concern.

"I noticed that I haven't been partnered with anyone or signed onto a mission which I was meant to be going on for graduating…"

His eyebrow raised at these words, him looking honestly surprised. "I sent a file to your room almost three days ago explaining what has happened, I thought you had received it?" now it was my turn to raise my eyebrow, tucking a loose red curl behind my ear.

"I never received a file three days ago, sir."

"You know what, I bet that stupid messenger put it in Agent Barton's room instead of yours. Run down there and check, come back here whether you have it or not, okay?"

I nodded and swiftly left the office, jogging slowly towards my room. I don't know why, but when I had my hand against the door handle that lead to Barton's side of the room, I felt my heart skip a beat. It felt odd invading his privacy, and I felt like a hypocrite when I remembered how angry I had gotten when he invaded mine. I shook my head, pushing the handle down and switching the light on. The room smelt like him, like his cologne, but more dusty and…empty. His bed was made, and there I saw the file, meant for me, placed in the centre of it. I walked over and sat down, taking the file into my hands and holding it against my chest. His bed felt like mine. The room was neat and tidy, with a few letters pinned onto the wall. There was a lamp on his bedside table and a chest of draws on the opposite wall. What surprised me the most was the shiny brown acoustic guitar leant against the wall in the corner. I stood up and walked towards it, strumming my fingers lightly across the strings, making a small noise that dragged on.

"You know, I find it weird how angry you get when I invade your privacy, but yet your still invading mine and I'm fine." Barton's voice suddenly filled the room, and calmly I stood up straight, turning to look at him. He was leaning against the door frame, his hair looking even blonder from the sun, his skin tanned and a few cuts here and there. His arm muscles seemed to protrude through his skin as he stood there in his vest suit, and I realised just how much two years can make you forget what someone looked like.

"Well, you're not naked and vulnerable and in a place you know nothing about, now are you?" I replied softly, walking over to him and keeping my eyes fixed onto his own. His lips tugged up in the corners as he tried to hide I smile, but I knew him well enough to see right through it. He closed the distance between us, just a step away.

"I didn't see a thing, I swear. I wouldn't have looked anyway." He murmured, his eyes burning into mine. And now that we were talking about this, three years later, I realised just how stupid I had been to have ruined everything. I simply nodded in reply, looking up at him. "I missed you, Agent Romanoff." He smiled, and my eyes widened in shock.

"You did?" he laughed quietly to himself, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, I did. It was a long two years, I had just gotten used to you when I had to be taken away again." His hand lifted up, and in the corner of my eye I saw it was shaking, and he slowly rested it on my face, cupping my chin lightly. I let out a slight gasp, resting into the palm of his hand. "Your hairs grown." He stated, eyes wandering down my chest to where my red curls stopped just beneath my breast, and I felt my heart beat quicken.

"And yours in blonder," I said, still staring into his eyes. His mouth was open slightly, same as mine, and I could hear his breath, ragged as it dragged back and forth, in and out of his lungs. When he began to lean forward, I felt myself tense up, shocked at his move. When his lips finally made contact with my own, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and to my utter surprise, I began to move my mouth with his, slowly at first, tasting him, feeling him. I felt dizzy with all the thoughts racing through my mind, but I ignored them all. When his tongue slid into my mouth and forced it to open wider, I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head, and I closed the space between us, pressing my body against his chiselled frame and wrapping my arms around his neck, letting the file slip between us and fall at our feet with a thud. His hand moved from my chin to the back of my head, and it took nearly all of my will power not to grab his arm and snap it like my instincts were telling me to.

Instead I let his hand wander, trailing down to the small of my back where his other hand joined and forced our bodies even closer, our lips moving as one and our breathing ragged in the air. He began to steer me backwards, and I felt the end of the bed hit the back of my knees. I sat down, taking my arms away from his neck and shifted myself to the top of the bed where I rested my back against the wooden head set and opened my legs, allowing him to slide between them and lean against me, deepening the kiss.

He grabbed my sides and pulled me down so my head was on the pillows and I was laying down, him still between my legs and supporting his body with one arm as his other hand traced patterns along my hip bone, causing me to shudder at the light tingly feeling. I let my hands wander up and down his chest, unzipping his vest and pulling his arms through and tossing it to the ground, revealing his unbelievable body right in front of my face. I lightly traced every shape from his chest to his V line, and I felt him shudder this time. His hand came to the collar of my cat suit where the zip hung, and he broke the kiss to look into my eyes before slowly pulling it down, unzipping the black material and pulling my own arms out so it hung at my waist and revealed my thin waist and full breasts hidden beneath a bra. He then began to kiss me again, moving down from my lips and to my neck and finding my sweet spot almost instantly and biting and sucking down with such intensity that I knew it would leave a huge mark when he's done. I moaned something under my breath, somewhere between the words 'Clint' and 'fuck'.

His lips began to move down further between my breasts, cupping one in his hand from under the bra, and I was so confused as to why I was letting him do this to me when I wasn't supposed to even trust the man and now he had left his mark on me and we're touching and grinding and the moment is so heated yet wrong but we don't stop because it feels so good… until we both heard someone clear their throat.

Both our heads snapped up at the sound, and I felt my cheeks burn bright red beneath my skin when I saw Coulson standing there in the door frame and looking sternly at our position. Barton was off of my body so quick that I was left there, legs open and half the cat suit at my waist whilst Barton was already halfway into his vest and I quickly slipped my arms into the suit, zipping it up in hope to cover the huge purple mark on my neck and standing from the bed, collecting the file from the floor and staring at Coulson's eyebrows because I was too embarrassed to look into his eyes. I knew Barton felt the same.

"My office. Five minutes. Do not get distracted again." He said, sounding really pissed off, before he turned and walked back out of the room and leaving both of us there, panting after holding our breath in fright.

"Shit." Barton cursed, running a hand through his hair and letting out a shaky breath. I just nodded in agreement.

"I'll be in the bathroom." I murmured, walking quickly out of the room and almost running towards the mirror. My hair was crazy, all over the place in knots and tangles, my lips kiss swollen and make-up ruined. But the most noticeable thing that anyone could notice was the huge, purple-red mark only half covered by the collar of my suit, in the shape of a bite mark, and if you looked closely you could see the shape of each tooth in Barton's mouth. I sighed, squirting a dollop of foundation onto my hand and trying to cover the mark as much as possible before getting to work onto my face, applying a coat of mascara and some eyeliner. I ran conditioner through my curls, bringing back the bouncy-looking hair that caught everyone's eyes. No matter how hard I tried, my hair would not stay in front of the mark on my neck, and I was doomed with the reality that everyone would see the hideous thing.

"Sorry about that." Barton's voice came from behind me. I knew he had been there for a while, just never bothered to look.

"What was that?"

"What?"

"That," I said, motioning towards his room. "What in your right mind would make you kiss me? We're partners, Barton, that was totally out of the question!" I hissed.

"You didn't pull away." He replied calmly, "If you didn't want me to continue to kiss you, you would have pulled away. You wanted it just as much as I did." I was dumbstruck with the truth of his words. I closed my mouth and turned back to the mirror, staring helplessly at the noticeable mark on my neck.

"You didn't have to leave a mark on me." I pushed, annoyed when he chuckled.

"You didn't pull away. You wanted it." He basically repeated his last words, and I felt like slapping that smile right off his face. "We better get going." He turned on his heel and began to walk towards the door, and with one more helpless look at my neck, I followed behind him.

Time to face my doom.

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