Hey guys. I am a bad person. A very very bad person. I am sorry for not uploading.
But between balancing school, tutoring, my activities, homework-because 7 hours of school clearly isn't enough for the teachers-how much time do you think that leaves me for stuff I want to do?
None. But, I digress, and now, hear I am!
I love you fellow reviewers! Watching cartoons and movies and reading comics so I can write the characters better.
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, just my imagination.
Clint: HEY GUYS, I'M BACK! READ BELOW SO YOU CAN SEE-
Natasha: *clamps hand over his mouth* Yeah... He's really chatty. I'm not going to let him spoil the story.
Clint: MMPH MMMM MMHPH MPH MMM!
Tony: Yep, that's right, Clint, everyone loves me.
Clint: MMMPH MMM MMM MMM MPHHH!
Tony: Why, of course you can have my autograph! Thanks for asking politely.
Clint: MMMMM MMMM MMMM MMPH MHP!
Natasha: Watch your language Clint.
Tony called once. "Hey Spidey, how you holding up?"
"Please. Have some respect for your elders," Natasha replied, "You're no better as a child either."
There was a long silence, and then Pepper's faint voice calling for Tony to give her back her phone. "I can't be on for much longer," Tony whispers into the phone, as if he's hiding, "How's Katniss?"
Natasha sighs and bites her lip. "I guess he'll be..." She choked back tears. "Okay."
Then there was a squeal, a hideous crackle, a deafning beep, and then Pepper, sounding breathless and Tony screaming in the background, "Sorry, who is this?"
Natasha stayed silent, letting the line fill with only breathing. "Natasha." She said at last, and Pepper gasped slightly.
"Oh, sorry about that, the kids ambushed me so Tony could take my phone," Pepper explains. "How are you and..." She paused for a long time, "Clint," She said hesitantly, "Doing?"
Natasha glanced at Clint absentmindedly, and swallowed hard.
She could hear Pepper taking small breaths. "Well uh... Sorry, I've got to go, Tony's pulling my hair, and Thor-Ow! Bruce-I mean Hulk, no hitting!"
Black Widow turned off the phone very hesitantly, and shut her eyes tightly. Please let Clint okay. She held his hand, gave it a gentle squeeze and leaned back into her chair, wishing herself away from here, entering a memory.
"Don't let go. Promise me."
"Clint, calm down, this isn't the Titanic."
He shrugged, or tried to equivalent of shrugging, which is hard to do when you're dangling off the top of the Eiffel Tower. Their weapons and gadgets had been taken away, and they had never accounted for the fact that this mission in Paris, the city of loooove-as Clint had said, could result in the two hanging off the edge of the Eiffel Tower. Clint was gripping onto the metal rungs so tightly that his hand dug into the rusty nails. Natasha was holding onto his other hand, and both of them were just swinging in the wind.
"I'm going to try to swing in so my feet can touch the bars," Clint informed her, but she rolled her eyes.
"Now you think of it?" She snorted, but he ignored her and tried to push his feet in. It was no use, the closest bar he could stand on would mean pretty much a ten-foot drop.
He looked down at how far away the bar was. "How did we end up here in the first place?" Clint whined, looking at the skyline away from him.
"Well someone," Natasha shot him a glare, "Lost all our weapons to the target, efficently lost the target, got led into a trap, and then I had to come clean up your mess."
"Well, you're not doing a very good job now, are you?"
"Shut up, Legolas. You got us into this mess, now you're going to get us out of it."
"Alright." And then Clint, without any signs of warning, released his grip on the bar, dropping both of them down onto the bar below him. This time, both of them managed to grab it with their hands, standing on top of the thick bar, so they were finally safe. The Paris skyline was really beautiful from this height, so very breathtaking. The wind whipped Natasha's red hair around her beautiful features, exaggerating them greatly. Clint watched her stare into the skyline.
"It's really quite beautiful, isn't it?" She asked, squinting slightly.
"I've seen more beautiful," He replied absentmindedly, also staring at the night skyline.
She'd rolled her eyes at this comment, but Clint would look at her again, both of them sitting, the moon illuminating her features.
"Afraid of heights, Barton?" Natasha asked suddenly, making his eyes snap away.
He looked down, and where as other people would sweat at heights, he laughed. "No."
"Then close your mouth and don't ogle me." She teased, and he flushed red, looking away, hoping that the moon would hide his crimson cheeks. Suddenly Natasha stood up, balancing on the bar, looked down and held up her arms, sandwiching her ears. She looked like a precision diver.
"What are you-" Clint asked, but she jumped off the tower, flipped and then her arms to her side as she dived down head first. "NAT!"
There was a loud crack suddenly, and Clint cringed, staring down. "NAT! NAT, ARE YOU OKAY?"
"Hurry up, slowpoke!" He heard her voice carry up, over the wind. He relaxed the tension in his shoulders, and hesitantly, leaped off the tower.
Natasha kept her eyes closed, until she felt a gentle squeeze on her hand. Snapping her eyes wide open, she saw Clint trying to smile, resulting in a grimace, at her.
"Clint!" She exclaimed, face splitting into a surprised grin. He tried to sit up, but winced at the pain. She gently pushed him back down. "Don't. You'll tear your stitches."
"Ugh," He groaned, as she put a pillow behind his head to prop him slightly upright. "This is the second time I've been shot."
"It's not fun."
"Tell me about it. So how long was I out?" Clint sounded annoyed, like he missed a lot of stuff.
"Just a day," Natasha answered, shrugging slightly. "You didn't miss a lot."
"Oh, good." His face had lit up again. "I was just worried that, you know, something big happened and-Have you been crying, Nat?"
She quickly turned away. Yes, her eyes might have been bloodshot, but she hadn't looked in a mirror for a while, so she wouldn't know. "No." Natasha answered quickly.
Clint chuckled, and it was a simple thing. "Your eyes were sweating again, weren't they?"
"What do you mean again?" She snapped, trying to stop from laughing, "I have never cried before!"
"Aha! So you do admit you were crying!" He grinned, proud. "It's nice to know that you missed me."
Natasha gave him a gentle slap on the shoulder-She didn't want to hurt him again, and said, "Of course I cried, you idiot. You were shot through the heart. I was just trying to stop your ego from expanding."
"Can my ego get bigger than Stark's?"
"Yes it can. With proper compliments and care, it can get bigger than Stark's. Although that would take a long time, Stark is a celebrity."
"Touché, but I'm going to take that as a compliment."
"I take that back, it doesn't need a long time, you can inflate your own ego."
"Ow, that bruised it really bad."
"Just doing my job, the world needs more room for more people's egos."
The next day, Clint was able to get out of the hospital. His healing was strangely fast, and the doctors were doubtful, but after a lot of nagging and 'persuasion' from Fury, Clint was back at the Stark Tower, which was running with kidmania.
"KATNISS!" Tony had cheered when Clint had first gotten back, and jumped onto Clint's leg, holding on tightly.
Bruce was walking in the wake that Tony had created, carrying a big laptop. "Tony, your equationth wrong."
"Shut up, Brucie." Tony muttered, and snuggled into Clint's leg. Clint plucked little Tony off his leg, and held him against his chest.
"Hey little green man," Clint teased, "Found anything yet?"
Bruce shook his head reluctantly at first. "Unfortunately, no. We did however, find thomething related to why you and Nat'th pieceth are thuck together."
"Ooh, do share!" Clint said, taking a seat on the couch. Bruce clambered up the couch with the laptop on his lap to show them.
"Well, firtht of all, where ith Natatha?" Bruce asked, looking around for the red-headed assassin.
Clint shrugged. "She's coming, don't worry."
"Okay," Bruce smiled, showing a gap-toothed grin. "Tho, howth your wound?"
Hawkeye's hand absentmindedly flew to his chest, where he could feel the banadages. "Just peachy."
At this minute, Natasha entered, wearing a tank top-that she felt fit her more like a mid-riff-and shorts. "Hey guys. Clint." She nodded in his direction. "After this, I was thinking we could try sparring again. But you know, nothing too big, wouldn't want your heart to explode."
"We could install a heart monitor or like a pace-maker," Tony suggested, putting his small hand on Clint's chest, right over his heart. "I could design it. It would be easy." He grinned devilishly.
"Maybe if my heart crashes," Clint says, taking Tony's hand off his chest. "I don't want an arc reactor just yet."
Bruce slid along the couch so Natasha could sit beside Clint. "Thank you," She said, sitting down comfortably beside Clint.
He watched her from the corner of his eye, fake-yawned, and put his arm down behind Natasha, who rolled her eyes.
"Ah, true love." Tony grins, spoiling most of the mood.
Clint frowns. "Go away, Antonio."
"I live here."
"Anyway," Bruce stepped in, stopping the fight that was probably going to break out between Clint and little-five-year old Tony, "It'th really quite interethting. We figure that the reason your guy'th pietheth fit together tho well ith the thame reathon why you guyth haven't turned into little children yet. None of the other pietheth can thick together, tho it'th thoundth lame, but it'th the moth logical."
"So... You're saying," Natasha looks up at the ceiling as she focuses, trying to make the pieces fit together right-no pun intended. "That our pieces are stuck together, because they're supposed to stick together? Like it's what they were meant to do?"
"That'th correct." Bruce nodded solemnly.
"It all makes sense." Clint says, arm still around Natasha's shoulders, "But if the other pieces of the capsule won't fit back together, how do we make it work again?"
"That'th where we're having trouble figuring it out." Bruce answered, looking back down at the computer, where the blueprints of the capsule are. "We can't figure out what about your pieceth that make them thick together. If we could find thothe elementth,"
"Then we can fix the time capsule." Tony finishes, and everyone in the room looks satisfied again.
A silence fills the room as the two assassins process all this slowly.
"So..." Clint starts, looking at the two miniuature scientists. "Any ideas?"
Oooh, kind of cliffy! There will be more, I promise, and then... I have an idea to make it very angsty.
Clint: MMMPH MMMPH MMMM!
Me: What's that you say, Clint? Oh, tell our readers about the awesome translator I just installed for you? Why yes, of course.
Clint: MMMPH MMM MMPH! (Please review!)
Natasha: Okay, I'm letting go, he's spitting and licking my hand. *releases Clint.*
Clint: TONY YOU SUCK THAT'S NOT AT ALL WHAT I SAID I SAID NAT PLEASE RELEASE ME YOU ARE A HORRIBLE AUTHOR AND I AM BACK ALIVE AND *pauses and gasps for air.* That's all.
Me: Love you too, Clint.
Steve: Hang on. What?
Me: Uh... *disappears.*
Steve: YOU COME BACK HERE! YOU CAN'T JUST WRITE YOURSELF OUT! YOU-Natasha, what are you doing?
*Natasha is wiping her hand on Steve.*
OH CURSES MY QUESTION MARK IS SCREWED IT`S NOT ? IT`S ÉÉÉÉÉÉÉ AHHH FIX IT FOR MEÉÉÉÉÉÉÉÉ