This chapter is more light hearted this time, yay! (Well technically it is…)

"So how do you do it?" Clint asked as he plopped down in the chair across from her.

She looked up from the book of fairytales she had been reading and raised one eyebrow in question. Do what? She asked silently.

Clint sighed reading her expression. "I mean, how do you stay calm during every single mission? Even the ones that have gone south?"

Natasha looked at her partner in amusement. "You're asking me this now?"

"Well, when was I supposed to ask you?" He asked rolling his eyes. "When we're in the middle of the mission? That would be an interesting conversation." He snorted imagining it – hushed conversations over the comms and Coulson reminding at them to "Keep it down! You're on a mission not at dinner, have the conversation later, please."

"It would certainly confuse them." Natasha agreed, a brief smile appearing on her face that all too quickly disappeared. "You've read my file Barton. You know why." And that was it. She returned to finish the story she had been reading and then turned the page to reread her favorite one. Somewhere deep in her mind she had a feeling someone had told her the tale long ago, but she knew that was impossible. Why would someone employed by the Red Room tell them fairytales? Especially one where the heroine overcomes her evil stepmother, obtains her wish, and marries the prince of her dreams. That wouldn't have made very much sense at all. They had conditioned them to be weapons, not dreamers. They had created them to obey all orders given, not protest and find away around it. But if she hadn't heard it in the Red Room, then where was it from and who had told it to her?

"Well," Clint said gently pushing the book down so he could see more than the top of Natasha's crimson curls, "I think it's more than that. Come on Nat, you know you can trust me."

She did know she could trust him. Even knowing who she was and what she had done, he had spared her and brought her back to S.H.I.E.L.D. He had fought for her and had had her back during every mission they were assigned. He was one of her closest friends, so she knew she could trust him. But she didn't have an answer for him, or not one that he was looking for anyways. So she moved the book back up and continued reading. Maybe if she didn't give him an answer he would leave and she wouldn't have to destroy yet another person. Besides, this was the best part – the fairy godmother appearing and renewing Cinderella's sense of hope. But he was still there as Cinderella sped off towards the castle. "There's nothing Clint." She finally said.

He pushed the book back down using the least amount of pressure needed. " Yes there is. I've seen you sleep after all our mission, especially the ones that haven't gone according to plan. Every time, every single time you go to sleep with frown on your face but in the morning it's morphed into a smile. So something happens. Come on Nat, what's your secret?"

"Great, so now I know who watches me sleep. I guess I can call off that investigation. Where's my phone?" She said dryly. "But really Clint, I don't know what you're trying to find. There's no secret. I don't have a magical method that helps me sleep." She told him with a remorseful smile and then returned to her fairytale.

"Yes, you do Nat." He insisted again. "You have to."

She sighed, picked up a napkin and using it as a bookmark, closed her well-loved book. Moving her head ever so slightly indicating to the man who had become her partner what she was going to do, she left.


"What is this all about Clint?" She asked once they were in their "shared" office. She used it far more than Clint did and although there was a moveable partition between the two sides, for "privacy", she could always tell when Clint was there, which wasn't very often as he thought best while practicing and she thought best while in their office. It was simply a matter of preference.

He didn't say anything but picked up a report that was supposed to be filed a few weeks ago. Oops…

"Clint." Natasha said, one word conveying her confusion and worry.

"I see them sometimes, you know." He finally explained, moving files from his desk to the ground so that he could sit down. "Every single person I've failed. Every single person I've hand a hand in causing their death, they all come back and haunt me." He whispered not meeting her eyes.

So that was what was bothering him. Natasha though. Ghosts. Oh Clint. "I don't know." She told him. "I don't know why I can go to bed with a frown on my face and in the morning wake up smiling. I wasn't even aware it happened. Maybe it's something they trained me to do. Maybe it's something that was conditioned. Maybe it's a defense mechanism. I don't know. I'm sorry Clint." She apologized as she gracefully maneuvered her way across the room avoiding the piles of books, files and miscellaneous items that were scattered all over the room and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

He looked over at her, his eyes so tortured that she wanted to do something, say something so that he could have some sort of hope. This is what she had wanted to avoid in the first place, but what could she do now? She had nothing to give him, no secret she could tell him. But for some reason she began to speak not truly knowing what she was saying or even what it meant. "I don't know Clint. I guess it's like someone's watching over me. I know it sounds silly and childish, but it's like they promised to always be there and whoever it was said that, they were always truthful and I suppose, I just trusted them." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's silly, I know. So, go ahead. Laugh if you want."

"No it's not, Nat." He reassured her, life beginning to reappear in his eyes. "Is that what you meant when you said, 'Maybe this time I can stay'?" his curiosity peaked by what Natasha had revealed and his mind trying to put two unknown puzzle pieces together.

"When did I say that?" She asked trying to remember a time when those words could have been uttered.

"The first time we met." He provided a few more details, hoping that by filling in the blanks she would begin to remember. "I was supposed to shoot you, and you said that with the most peaceful and happy expression on your face that I've ever seen. Even in all the years we've been partners."

"I don't remember that." She conceded. "But I don't remember a lot about what happens when I dream or what I dream about." Her eyes taking on a far away look as she glanced around the room and her eyes landed on the American flag Clint had hung by the door. "Sometimes I think I can remember a glimpse of a gentle smile, a flash of blond hair, and just the slightest impression of someone dressed in red, white and blue." Then just as quickly as she had disappeared she came back to earth. "But I suppose I've just seen Coulson's Captain America trading cards a few too many times." A rueful smile appearing on her face as she admitted that fact.

Clint matched her smile. Coulson was incredibly proud of those cards and during one of Natasha's early days at S.H.I.E.L.D. had "kidnapped" her and shown her every single card in his collection, how he had gotten them, and the significance behind each of them. It had been a very "educational" day for his partner.

"Natasha." Coulson suddenly appeared in their doorway. "Fury needs you. Barton, you're with me."


"So I'm going undercover tomorrow." Natasha said as she pondered the situation before her. What was the right move? If she moved there, it would leave her open to an opportunity to attack her that he would no doubt take, so not there. But that was the best move she could make, but did she really want to risk it? Maybe he wouldn't take the chance, hmm…

"Really?" Steve asked as he watched her toy with one his pawns she had captured, as she contemplated what to do.

"Yes." She said finally moving her bishop to take another pawn. "Fury wants me to shadow someone named Tony Stark."

"Huh," Now it was his turn to think. "That name sound familiar." He admitted as he moved his bishop to claim one of her pawns, mirroring her move exactly.

"Didn't I tell you about him?" She thought she had, but maybe she hadn't. "He's the guy who revealed to the world that he was Iron Man." She rolled her eyes and moved her knight to protect her bishop. "Apparently some, and these are Fury's words not mine, 'weird things are going down' and he wants me to see what's really happening."

"You'll be careful?" He requested having his bishop retreat. It wasn't worth it to attack her and loose his bishop to her knight in order to obtain her bishop.

She nodded, concentrating on the board and advancing one of her pawns before smiling and saying, "I always am."

He just rolled his eyes at her because it most definitely wasn't true. But if she wanted to believe that, then that was okay with him. He wasn't one to advocate lying, but in this case if it kept her "safe" thinking that, then he wouldn't push the issue.

They played on in comfortable silence. They had played each other so often that they knew exactly what the other was planning on doing before they even moved. It was like two dance partners sweeping across the floor preforming the most elegant waltz. And they continued to dance until

"Checkmate!" Natasha cried happily.

Steve couldn't help smiling. "You win Tasha. Do you want to practice before you leave?" He asked offering her his hand, the board disappearing and in its place his shield and her widow bites appearing. If she wasn't going to be as careful as he wished she would be, at least he would know she was in good shape before leaving. They were never sure how much of what they did in "their" world translated to Natasha's "real" world, but even if nothing did, at least he would have some peace of mind that he had done all he could for her and had protected her in his own way.

She returned his smile, grabbed her widow bites off the boulder and took his hand. "Of course."


"The mission went well?" He asked as they sat on their boulder for once not playing chess but simply sitting together enjoying the night sky.

"When doesn't it?" She asked smiling up at him, her face radiant in the silver glow of the moon.

He smiled down at her and rested his head gently against hers that lay cradled by his neck and shoulder. In that moment the final pieces of the heart that had once been shattered into a million tiny fragments were finally put back together. The little girl, no, the little child, no, his Natasha was finally happy and if she was happy, then so was he. As his newly repaired heart beat, it wished that she would always be happy in everything she did. At the same time his heart was wishing that, hers wished that he could come back with her, that he wasn't just her imaginary friend who existed only in her dreams, and that he could somehow be real and that she would finally be able to remember him. Yet in that time and place, both were content to simply sit there, together.


Steve wandered around the woods killing time before he suspected Natasha would be arriving. Things were never set in stone, he supposed some things were just not meant to be explained, but he could always guess when she was going to appear.

As a young girl Natasha had once asked him what he did when she wasn't there, and the truth be told, he didn't really do anything. He read the books that appeared on the great maple wood bookshelf by the river. He drew sketches of his friends from the war and of Natasha, and he boxed using the punching bag he had found hanging from a chestnut tree in the southern part of the forest. While he enjoyed those pastimes, he enjoyed his time with Natasha the most.

He sat down on the hill beneath the maple tree, just watching the clouds drifting past him. He would never figure out how he came to be here, but it felt as if the whole world was changing and he was stuck in the same place, forever. And then he felt it. The tiny shimmering sensations that he had only witnessed as Natasha faded away. But this time it was happening to him. What was going on? He was dead, wasn't he? Even Captain America couldn't possibly survive crashing his plane into the ocean, could he? He wondered all those things as he gently faded way, but his last coherent thought before he disappeared entirely was of Natasha. I'm sorry Tasha. You'll be okay. I know you will be. Goodbye.

A/N: One more chapter… Anyways, as always, thank you so much for reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it and have/had a wonderful day! :)