I thought I should post one more chapter before I left, so here it is.

I DO NOT own Avengers or Marvel!


Natasha trudged through the hallways of the Helicarrier with a blank look on her face. Phil had just handed her another mission folder, but she hadn't bothered to open it. Instead, she was searching for Clint. They had just gotten back from an observation mission from some middle of no where city in middle of no where Europe. Natasha hadn't slept in days and she just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep. But apparently SHIELD had different ideas for them.

She found him in the gym –what a shocker –pounding some fight dummies' face in. For a few minutes, Natasha watched silently contemplating whether or not to disturb him. It surprised her that he hadn't heard her yet, he always heard her. No one could sneak up on him, not even the great Black Widow.

"What do you want," he breathed heavily with sweat dripping off of his face.

"We have a new mission," she said.

"Where?" He asked sitting down next to her on the bench.

"Coulson said it was in Rome," she said handing him the folder.

"Have you looked at it yet?"

"No, I tried to, but my vision is blurred with sleep deprivation," she yawned.

He chuckled silently and opened the folder.

"What's the damage," she asked looking over his shoulder.

"Just another greedy man trying to get funding for an illegal project."

"Fun," she yawned loudly. Clint handed her the folder and she skimmed through the paragraphs without interest. "Oh, Fury has lost his mind if he thinks I'm going to wear a dress."

"Calm down, I have to wear a penguin suit," Clint said.

"Wear do they expect me to stash a gun if I'm in a dress?"

"You'd probably kill me if I told you."

"Don't go there, Barton," she hissed.

Clint held his hands up chuckling which earned a glare from Natasha. Sighing, she stood up and marched out of the gym muttering something in Russian that Clint assumed was not ladylike.

Natasha stormed into her room and flopped down on the bed face first. Almost immediately, she was asleep.


They arrived to the hotel a few hours later and the two dragged their stuff into the building. When they got to their room, there was another mission file waiting on the desk in the main room of their suit. Groaning, Natasha picked it up and skimmed it before flopping onto the bed. Natasha wasn't pleased to find that there was only a single king sized bed in the room.

"Looks like we're sharing," she said.

Clint groaned loudly as he dropped onto the bed next to his partner.

"We need to get ready for the gala thingy tonight," Natasha said.

"I don't want to get up," Clint whined.

"Well that sucks," Natasha said grabbing his hand and attempting to pull him off the bed.

"You do know that we aren't really married so you can't boss me around."

"Have I ever needed marriage as an excuse to boss people around?" Natasha scoffed.

"Nope," Clint said.

Natasha walked over to the pile of luggage on the floor and unzipped the drycleaners bag she had thrown carelessly on the top. The contents of the bag disgusted her and she had to keep herself from destroying it right there. She tossed the dress on the bed and pulled her shirt off over her head. Clint –who seemed unfazed by his partner stripping in front of him –began putting on his own suit. He didn't even blink when Natasha pulled off her bra.

"Can you zip me up," she asked holding the dress onto her body in the front.

Clint pulled the zipper up her back gently and looked at her helplessly. Smirking, she fixed his tie and turned to look at herself in the mirror. She hated with a burning passion the strapless, floor length, maroon colored dress that SHIELD had picked out for her. In her opinion it was too revealing and would just get in the way if she had to fight.

"I look ridiculous," she said.

"You do not," Clint countered handing her a gun.

Sighing, she placed the gun in the holster that was strapped around her leg.

"You actually look kinda pretty," Clint said.

"What have you been smoking, Barton?"

Clint chuckled a little as he too concealed weapons in his clothing. He extended his arm to Natasha and she took it plastering on a fake smile. They walked silently out into the hallway and waited for the elevator.

"Remember you have to be madly in love, so Widow, if he makes a terrible joke you have to laugh. Not threaten to castrate him," Coulson reminded into the comm.

"Fine," Natasha huffed.

Clint smirked childishly at and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Grow up you two," Coulson said over the comm.

"I'm guessing you got into the security feed," Clint said.

"That would be correct," Coulson said. "Now please don't screw this up, I would like it if Natasha actually lived to see her birthday."

Natasha rolled her eyes as they entered the elevator. The dinner was on the roof of the hotel which housed a nice restaurant. The party itself was being held in the fancy-shmancy ballroom on the first floor. Natasha knew she was practically required to dance with people other than Clint and she wasn't looking forward to it at all. In fact, she was ready to kill any man who tried to cop a feel.

"Nat, relax," Clint whispered into her ear.

A ding echoed through the elevator and the doors of the elevator slid open. The pair stepped onto the roof and Natasha felt every eye –male and female –drop on her body. The women of the room eyed her with hate and she figured if looks could kill, she would've died the second she stepped off the elevator. Every man in the room –including Clint –looked at her lustfully and hungrily.

"Why is everyone looking at me like that," she whispered to Clint uncomfortably.

"Because you look amazing," Clint whispered back.

Natasha rolled her eyes and tried to shed the look of discomfort she figured was probably painted on her face.


"Just get me one drink, Clint, please. I'm begging you, I can't handle this if I don't have something stronger than lemonade," Natasha pleaded.

"Um, we are in America and last time I checked, you aren't old enough to have anything stronger than lemonade here," Clint said.

"But my cover is twenty-three and married to you," Natasha said desperately.

"Then, why don't you have an ID for you cover?" Clint asked well aware of what the answer was.

"Cause Coulson said he didn't want me drunk on a mission," she said sheepishly.

Clint smirked at her and then ordered her a red wine.

"You know I meant vodka or tequila or something that would actually make a dent in my sobriety, not a girly glass of red wine," Natasha said taking the glass from Clint.

"I know what you wanted," Clint reassured.

Natasha muttered something in Russian and started to sip on the wine.

"Do you have that diamond ring I'm supposed to be wearing?" Natasha asked setting down the empty glass on the table.

"Yeah, here," he said digging into his pocket and producing the ring.

Natasha slid it on and inspected it. Not that she really knew what any of it was, she was aware of the large size of the diamond and the ring of rubies surrounding it.

"I have pretty good taste don't I," Clint joked.

"Amazing," Natasha whispered still admiring it.

"So, we need to decide not, how long have we been married?" Clint asked getting down to business.

"We've been married for almost a year although we've know each other since childhood," Natasha replied.

"Do we have any kids?"

"No, but I'm secretly pregnant," Natasha smiled.

"Then why are you drinking?" Clint asked playing around.

"'Cause no one is watching me," Natasha replied.

"If you haven't noticed, everyone is watching you,"

Natasha rolled her eyes and stood up brushing off the front of her dress. She stuck her hand out toward Clint with a devilish grin spread across her face.

"What?" Clint asked.

"Dancing with me won't kill you," Natasha said smiling innocently.

Carefully, Clint took her hand and they walked onto the dance floor in the middle of the room. Awkwardly, they pressed against each other –they hadn't fully recovered from that night months ago –and moved across the floor slowly. It was no lie they were both good dancers, Natasha had picked it up as a child and dancing was a piece of Clint's past not even Natasha knew. He hadn't told her any of it, in fact. Clint had told her that it wasn't easily and that he had a brother. She also knew that Clint had run away from it, but she wasn't sure what 'it' was.

"People are staring," Natasha warned.

"Let them stare," Clint smiled pecking her on the lips.

Natasha had to remind herself that this was all for show. The kiss felt nothing and something inside of her felt slightly disappointed.

"We need to stay on track," Natasha reminded through gritted teeth.

She was mad. Not mad at Clint, but mad at herself for feeling something.

"Aye, Captain Natalie," Clint said putting emphasis on her cover name.

Natasha glared at him and he chuckled. The song ended and they returned to their seats. At their table was another couple and –thanks to SHIELD –the greedy doctor and his wife.

Clint engaged himself in small talk with the men at the table and Natasha looked around the room discreetly as the other two women at the table began a conversation.

"Hello?" One of the woman said catching Natasha's attention

"Sorry, what did you say?" Natasha said fake smiling.

"I asked how long you've been married to your husband," the woman married to the doctor asked. Natasha examined her carefully. The woman couldn't have been much older than her –far too young to be married to a fifty year old doctor -, had long brown hair that curled at the end, was bony, had piercing blue eyes, the ring on her finger was huge, she wore a long purple dress that Natasha thought was awful and the smile on her lips was obviously fake.

"Almost six months," Natasha said. Clint's arm draped over Natasha easily and she shot him a pleading look. " I'm Natalie," Natasha lied.

"I'm Taylor," the doctor's wife replied.

"And I'm Melanie," the other woman smiled warmly. Melanie had long hair that was dark, her eyes were green –not as bright as Natasha's, -she was skinny, but not so skinny it seemed unhealthy, she looked to be about twenty-five and her husband didn't seem much older. Her dress was a light pink that looked nice against her pale skin and she lacked the wrinkles that the other woman did. Melanie seemed almost warmer and happier.

Natasha followed their conversation slightly, but quickly grew bored with only talking about the newest line from some Italian designer. When the salads were served, Natasha was thankful for an escape from talking about material things.

"So, got any dirt," Natasha whispered to Clint discreetly.

Leaning over, he kissed her cheek then whispered a reply in her ear.

"No, but I did get an invitation for the two of us to attend a charity event his daughter is putting on."

'They have kids?" Natasha asked incredulously.

"No, he does. His daughter is older than you."

Natasha rolled her eyes and started to push the wilted lettuce around the fancy glass plate that was set in front of her. This was not going to be fun.


Remember, I will not update often -if at all -for the next couple of days. Please review!

Kisses,

Kaylie

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