Natasha rips off her blindfold as something grazes her hair.
She catches a glint of silver in her peripheral vision. Barton is lining up another arrow.
"Shit."
She dives out of the way, crawling into a bush for cover.
She sees The Winter Soldier take off in Clint's direction.
"NO! Stand down."
The effect is instantaneous.
The soldier freezes in place, crumpling to his knees and going totally still.
Well, at least that is one threat neutralized.
She crawls out the other side of the bush, looking for a way to gain some higher ground.
An arrow pins her right glove to the dirt.
"Damn it, Barton! Can we just talk about this like adults?"
He doesn't respond. He just moves off to find a better angle.
He must be really mad.
Barton can't seem to stop himself from engaging in banter normally.
Natasha runs for the far wall, intent on shimming up the drain pipe.
Clint drops down in front of her, arrow notched.
"Come on, Barton! I don't want to hurt you."
He lets loose a shock arrow that catches her boot.
"I guess I can hurt you a little." Natasha launches herself at him. She catches him around the midsection using the momentum to swing around behind him. She throws her legs up over his hips, using his own weight against him. As they fall to the ground she rolls under him, shielding his head and neck. He is on top of her then. He grabs furiously for her wrists, trying to immobilize her hands. She hooks a leg over his shoulder and flips them again. She straddles he waist and shoves his bow up under his chin, pinning him. They stay like that for a while, panting and glaring at each other.
"You're an idiot." He says, grabbing the sleeve of her jacket, trying to drag her off of him.
"You're the archer who sacrificed the high ground." She spits, digging the toes of her boots more firmly into the ground. She refuses to budge.
Clint gestures to the kneeling pile of soldier across the courtyard.
"Undo it."
She glares down at him, and then looks where he indicated.
"I don't know how." She hisses.
Clint takes advantage of her momentary distraction and shoves her over onto her back. Hard. He pins her legs under his, his hands like vises on her wrists.
He leans very close to her face, his breathing still heavy. "You had better figure it out." He growls.
They are breathing too loudly.
All she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears, and the sound of their gasps for air.
"I will. I promise." She vows, desperate for him to release her.
Clint gives her a look of grim satisfaction and rolls off of her.
They both lay there in the grass, struggling to breathe. After a moment, a calloused wraps tightly around her own.
"Thank you for saving me" He whispers.
"навсегда" She whispers back.
