Here is my newest chapter. Hope you enjoy!

I DO NOT own Marvel or the Avengers or anything at all!

It had been over a month since the incident and Natasha still hadn't said a word to anyone about it. Her sessions with the shrink were pointless, all she did was sit on the couch and play with a pillow or anything to keep her distracted. The mousy man asked her questions and she didn't say anything in response. Natasha didn't want him to know that weakness that the man found in the dark cell, she didn't want anyone to know. Not even Clint. Unfortunately, he did know and she couldn't deny that.

However, he had not brought up the subject. Natasha suspected that Clint wanted her to bring it up. He should've known that she would never initiate that specific conversation or anything that related to emotion/relationships.

Like every night the new nightmares haunted her, she ended up in the gym, not in Clint's room. This was different than the other dreams; this was too personal for even Clint to understand. Natasha had sweat dripping off of her face and the feeling of exhaustion was swelling in her body. There were tears mixing with the sweat on her face as she continued to destroy a punching bag. Her knuckles were cracked and bleeding from the lack of wrapping or gloves. Clint –who had gone unnoticed – had his back pressed against the wall and watched her carefully. He knew very well what this was about.

Natasha stopped pounding the punching bag and stood still.

"I know you're standing there, Clint," she said startling Clint. Her voice was rough from the tears and barely above a whisper. "What do you want?"

"Why are you avoiding me?" He asked timidly.

"Because you know," she barked turning to face him.

"So what if I know?!" Clint demanded throwing up his hands. "We're partners, you know everything about me. Why do I have to find out about stuff like this when someone's using it against you?"

"I don't know," she whispered sheepishly.

"Nat, why are you so embarrassed about this?" Clint asked.

"Because I wanted it to be special," she admitted looking at him in the eye. "It was part of some stupid fantasy I had. Escaping this whole thing and just being normal."

"There is nothing normal about anyone who works here," Clint said.

"It was just something I had always held onto when they were breaking me."

"Fantasies like that are weaknesses," Clint reminded.

"That was the first weakness someone other than you discovered," Natasha whispered.

It was silent for awhile and it made Natasha feel even more embarrassed.

"Why can't it be special?" Clint asked.

Natasha eyed him suspiciously. The look on his face was familiar to her, he was formulating a plan.

"Dare I ask what it is you mean by that," Natasha asked pinching the bridge of her nose.

That's why they were currently in her room –obviously not thinking –doing things Natasha never thought she would do with her partner. He was pressed against her bare body and he was just as bare as she was.

"This is a ….terrible idea," Natasha moaned, her voice catching in her throat.

"Stop thinking," Clint said removing his mouth from her neck.

"If this all goes down hill, I'm blaming you," Natasha gasped.

"Whatever you say," Clint replied. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded her head silently. Gently, he entered her and an unfamiliar pain shot through her body. Being the Black Widow, she tried her best to hide how much it hurt when she felt something shatter inside of her. Clint thrust into her slowly at first and then began to pick up the pace. He cummed. She cummed. He collapsed on the bed next to her breathlessly. Eventually, Clint fell asleep. Natasha was left awake, wandering, Analyzing everything, thinking of the consequences.

"What have I done," she whispered to herself.

The thought haunted her the entire night. She had single handedly destroyed every boundary she had set for herself almost five years four years ago. It wasn't until the sun was beginning to light up the sky that sleep finally overtook Natasha. Slowly, her eyes closed and she entered into a dreamless sleep.

When Natasha awoke hours later, Clint was no longer there. Neither were his clothes. It seemed as if maybe the previous night never happened and things were still normal. Then, that smell wafted toward her nose. That smell that was strictly his. It was nothing Natasha could describe past the fact that it was his and that it was home for her. Clint was her home, despite how cliché that sounded.

Sighing, Natasha threw the covers off her body that was still glistening with sweat and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She trudged across the carpet and flung open the closet door. Too tired to care what she put on –not that she cared anyway –Natasha pulled on a pair of ripped up jeans and a t-shirt that was wadded up on the floor. She didn't care that it was several sizes too big, nor did she notice the fact that it belonged to Clint.

Yawning, Natasha dragged her feet toward the cafeteria. She was desperate for caffeine even if it came from coffee that had the consistency of jell-o. When she arrived in the cafeteria, Natasha made a beeline for the coffee maker. She poured herself a mug and had it burning its way down her throat before she noticed Clint was standing less than five feet away from her with his eyes trained on her. Pouring herself another mug, Natasha turned so she was leaning up against the counter, that's when she noticed him.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully.

"What's so great about it," Natasha grumbled. Silently, they agreed never to bring up what happened the previous night,

"Still not a morning person," Clint chuckled.

"I've been your partner for almost four years now, don't you think you should know that I never have and never will be a morning person," Natasha asked pouring what was left of her coffee into her mouth and refilling the mug.

"Don't you think you should have something real for breakfast?"

"Nope," Natasha said setting down her mug. Clint watched as she started to walk away.

"Nat," he said catching her attention. She turned to face him with a blank expression on her face. "Nice shirt," he smiled.

Confused, Natasha looked down at her shirt and smiled when she saw what it was his after all.

"Hope you no that you're not getting it back," Natasha smirked turning on her heel.

Clint chuckled and then noticed that every agent that was in the cafeteria was watching them expectantly.

"What," he asked. "Can't a guy talk to his partner?"

Everyone turned back to whatever it was they were doing. Clint rubbed his neck praying silently to whatever diety would listen that his stupid suggestion the night prior didn't destroy everything.

That chapter was really hard to write. I don't really know why it was though. Maybe it's 'cause I'm not exactly good at writing sex scenes. I'm going on a trip so don't count on updates until Sunday at the earliest. Most likely Monday will be my next update. The next chapter will be better, I hope. Please review! I'm begging you and I don't beg often.

Love,

Kaylie :)