Hola mi niños. Welcome back. :) Now I hope all of you don't care too much about the Natasha and Clint thing because if you love them you're not gonna love this chapter (or the rest of the story too much). However, if you really love just Natasha in general, and you want her to be happy, congrats because she totally will be, I just have a different path for her. So keep on reading and remember to please review, you guys are amazing!

Everything happens for a reason.

—0—

"NATASHA!" Haven screamed as soon as she entered the house. She spotted Clint sitting on the couch on the phone with a giant smile on his face. Haven almost squealed, everything had to have worked out. "Clint!" She whispered. He turned to look at her. "Where's Nat?"

Clint put his hand over the phone. "She's in her room I think." He immediately turned his back to her and continued talking to whoever he was on the phone with. Haven's smile fell as he did it. That wasn't the best sign.

The dancer sprinted to Natasha's room. The door was locked. She continuously knocked until the door flew open and Natasha pulled her in quickly, slamming the door and locking right after. The assassins eyes were bloodshot and puffy; she'd been crying.

"Nat…" "I waited too long Haven."

"What do you mean?" She pulled her new friend into her arms and sat her gently on the bed.

"Him and-and his o-old girlfriend, Bobbi, a-are b-back together. I didn't e-even get a ch-chance t-to tell him how I f-feel."

"Oh, sweetheart." Haven pulled Natasha's hair out of her face and into a ponytail. "Everything is gonna work itself out, ok? I know you don't wanna hear this right now, but someone better is gonna come along and sweep you off your feet. And then you're gonna forget all about liking Clint."

"I just don't know how to act in front of him anymore." Natasha admitted. "Everything is gonna be so awkward."

"Why don't you take some time off, you know?" Haven suggested. "My dad told me you were a ballet dancer at one point, before the whole assassin thing. One of our dancers broke her leg and can't do her part for a few months. You could go back to SH.I.E.L.D. when it's all over if you'd like, but I think you should spend some time away from Clint after this vacation."

The red head thought it over for a long time. "I think you're right. I've never taken a break before, I really need one."

To Natasha's surprise, Haven jumped up and pulled her with her. "Let's go out to eat."

"Yes please."

—0—

Natasha and Haven spent an hour asking around about the best place to eat before finally getting a frequent answer. It was a diner smack in the middle of town called Dallas's.

"So how are things with you and Steve?" Nat asked. Haven didn't even bother denying her feeling around Natasha.

"I don't know honestly. He's shy most of the time so I never know whether he's blushing because of what I say or because I'm the one saying it."

"Trust me," the assassin laughed. "There's no way that kid doesn't like you."

"Hold up." Haven's eyes widened slightly. "Hottie on your six."

Natasha slightly turned around to see what Haven was talking about. "Oh my god…" She whispered. It usually took a lot to get a reaction out of Natasha. But when she turned around and saw him, she couldn't contain the comment that slipped past her lips. He was tall, dark and handsome, with the lightest blue eyes, perfectly messy brown hair, and an amazing jawline. He wore a black jacket and jeans, his left hand hidden in his pocket. Immediately, she turned back around to face her companion. "He's beautiful."

"You're telling me." Haven giggled. "Shit, he's walking over here, play it cool." Haven placed her fist under her chin while making a sarcastically serious face and staring out the window next to their booth.

"Haven, that is not playing it cool." Natasha chuckled.

The man that'd the girls had been talking about sat two booths in front of them with his back facing them, listening in on their conversation unknowingly.

"How does a person become that beautiful?" One of the girls said. The handsome stranger smirked. Her voice was beautiful, he thought, not too deep, with a hint of seduction.

"I don't know man." The other replied. "Swooning over another guy, Stark." The comment caused the strangers head to shoot up.

"Nah, my super soldier's the only one for me."

"Poor Steven Rogers, stuck with you." At this point, the brunette man had stood up from his booth.

"Shut up Natasha!" The girl laughed. "There's just the problem of getting him to date me."

"Yeah," Nat agreed. "And getting that hot guy behind us to date me."

Without them seeming to notice, the guy the girls had been ogling over had made his way in front of their table.

"Excuse me?" He spoke, his voice rough and deep. He focused his attention on the brunette girl. "I couldn't help but overhear you say something about a guy named Steve Rogers, ma'am."

"Uhh…yeah." Haven nervously said. "He's my best friend, why?"

"I just…He's a really really old friend of mine, in fact best friend. I haven't seen him in a few years. Do you happen to have his address or anything?" Normally, Haven would be scared. But seeing as she had Natasha, a well-trained top ranked assassin, with her, and the fact that she felt no bad vibes coming off the man, she wasn't scared at all.

"Actually, I'm on vacation with him and a couple other people down here. Why don't you walk back to the ranch with us, I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."

"You came to vacation down here in Oklahoma?" He raised an eyebrow. "Ticket mess up, my dad is an idiot. Anyway, is that a yes?"

"Definitely a yes, ma'am."

"I can definitely see how you two are friends." Natasha laughed. "I've never met anyone other than you guys who call girls 'ma'am'."

"Just…being polite."

The girls paid for their drinks and headed out of the diner.

"I'm Haven by the way, and this is my friend Natasha. We're from New York. What about you?" Haven introduced them and asked.

The dark haired man smirked and held out his right hand to shake both of theirs. He held his hand in the red head's slightly longer, making sure not to break eye contact with her. "James. I'm from Brooklyn."