Title: Not an addict
Author: Sofia B.
Category: Avengers
Pairing: Natasha & Clint
Rating: T to M (drug use and sexual situations)

Summary: Thought the battle is over, not even Clint in bed with her can make her feel better.

Note: Based on a song by K's Choice. Emotional and full of anguish.

Extra Note: Sorry about the delay. Tropical wave over the Caribbean have made life a little hectic on this island. This chapter was written as the rain and lighting came pouring down.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nada, zilch.

Natasha was getting extremely annoyed. Natasha was getting sloppy. Natasha was getting annoyed because she was getting sloppy.

Natasha is in trouble.

She was starting to believe that switching to snorting wasn't exactly the smartest idea. Injecting heroin was simple and easy; in the world of heroin injecting provided the greatest intensity and the onset of euphoria happened rapidly, as in 8 seconds.

Snorting had a relatively slow onset that took 5 to 8 minutes to get to heaven and another 10 to 15 minutes to reach its peak. Then it took forever to come down.

It took forever for her to put her face back on and get back home.

She had left Clint a little after breakfast time, closer to brunch to be exact, and told him she was going "shopping". She momentarily had felt guilty about the lie, but then it dawned upon her that she wasn't actually lying. The dictionary defined shopping as the act of examining and buying merchandise. And she was going shopping at Bianca's, she was going to examine and buy the merchandise that Bianca provided, and in this case it was heroin. She she really was going shopping.

The lies made her sleep better at night.

But after the meet up and the heroin trip that was now being snorted, it was 8 hours later that Natasha finally had enough clarity in her mind to go back home and act normal. Well, whatever normal for an avenger meant that is.

Covering up her tracks was becoming harder now, so to save her own skin, Natasha actually hightailed it to the mall to do some conventional shopping. Grocery shopping had actually crossed her mind, but that was her excuse two days ago. Coming home with another car load of groceries would surely raise suspicion, and truth be told, she could use a new pair of boots and a pair of heels and possibly a new dress for some gala that Pepper was organizing.

A few too many swipes of her credit card later, Natasha came home a little too late for dinner with a barrage of shopping bags and a few minutes before the rain came pouring down. Odd weather at that time of year, but a little rain never hurt anybody.

"Sex in the rain part 2," she mused, a sexy grin crossing her face as she made her way up the stairs to the kitchen. Lust flared in her loins at the idea of Clint stripping her naked and forcing himself in her from behind bent over the railing.

The kitchen was inhabited by all half of the troupe. Steve was washing dishes, while Tony and Thor were discussing the possibility of replicating Thor's beloved hammer.

"Strictly for scientific purposes of course," Tony defended when Thor's face seemed skeptical at best.

Thor had adjusted to human life considerably well, his style of clothing fitting him to a tee. The blue jeans hugged his hips nicely and he switched between regular plain dark colored t-shirts and t-shirts under a buttoned down shirt that stayed open. His hair was now pulled back into a low ponytail, completely different from his rather ridiculous battle gear. But in the end he still had his mysterious sexy smile and sultry gaze. She remembered that night when he told her she was beautiful and kissed the back of her hand.

Natasha could swear her panties got wet when Thor turned and smiled at her when she entered the kitchen. Clint who?

"Natasha, you missed a wonderful adventure to the land of the caged animals," Thor greeted her, a proud smile on his face. Natasha arched an eyebrow up and looked at Steve who mouthed "zoo" secretly in her direction. She chuckled at that.

"Cool, did you meet Tony's relatives?" Natasha teased, surprisingly not in a malicious snarky tone.

Tony shot her a non amused look. "No, but he did meet your sisters in the baboon cage," he retorted in his usual tone. To his surprise, no death threat was thrown at him, nor was a dagger thrown. Not a single word. Instead something very odd happened. A noise echoed through the kitchen that Tony had to do a double take to make sure he was hearing correctly.

Natasha giggled.

"Enjoy your evening boys." And with that she made her way to her quarters in the Tower. Tony raised his eyebrows at that.

"That was odd," he thought before turning back to Thor, trying blackmail now for the specs to the hammer.

Natasha was anxious to get back into her room. Her plan was simple: Rip off her clothes, rip of Clint's clothes and fuck each other senseless for hours on end in the rain until the sun came up.

Step 1: Enter room.

"Baby, I hope you are naked like I specified this morning," Natasha called out as she entered the room. It was dark, the lights were off and the curtains of the balcony door were drawn for the most part. Moonlight still shone through, illuminating the room enough to show the outlines of all the furniture.

"First things first, I want you in my mouth," she seductively teased, pulling her shirt over her head. She turned around abruptly when the light on the nightstand turned on. The sight of a fully clothed Clint did not amuse her one bit.

"I thought I demanded nakedness." Her hand on her hips, feigning anger.

Before her sat Clint in the one person seat, elbows on his knees, face atop his clasped hands, pensive look across his handsome features. Natasha paid no heed to the displeased observation he was giving her.

"How was your shopping trip?" he asked, his anger masked with a fairly platonic tone. Natasha shrugged as she unbuttoned her jeans and impatiently shoved it down her legs. "Fine, took forever to find a dress for Pepper's gala," she replied. Natasha's tone was far too casual to be true, and it angered Clint even more.

Clint hated being lied to.

Now clad in her sexy lace black panties and matching bra, Natasha seductively sauntered her way over to Clint, stopping right in front of him. "Hi," she whispered, bumping her knees into him. Clint didn't move from his position, he merely looked up to gaze upon her. He wondered how deep in she was at that moment, how many hits she was taking a day too keep herself happy, how much make up she was using to mask the evidence on her face. Natasha was a professional, Clint of all people knew how good she was at hiding.

"Picked up anything you liked?" he asked. Natasha nodded and forced his clasped hands apart, straddling his hips.

"I think I just did." She laid a soft kiss on his lips before trailing off to his cheeks.

Clint took in a deep breath, trying hard to keep his cool. "Gather info before you get angry," he kept telling himself.

"You've been gone all afternoon, you missed dinner," Clint stated. it didn't even affect him when Natasha rolled her hips into his crotch. She moaned a little into his ear. "I picked up something with a friend I ran into, lost track of time," she defended, pushing herself down further into him. Her lips attached to his neck, nipping and sucking softly on his silky skin.

Clint sighed, he wasn't going to play this game with Natasha. They were too old for that. he was going to go in for the kill, because he was growing angrier by the second.

"So who is this elusive friend of yours? Somebody I know?" Clint continued, secretly hoping Natasha would just come clean. He knew better though, she wouldn't, not even if her life depended on it. That was how strong she was, and it annoyed it severely.

"No," she breathed, biting on his shoulder.

"Stop lying to me and just tell me you are coked up," he murmured, pulling away from her mouth.

The kissing stopped. "What?" Natasha asked, her face lifting to meet his eyes. She chuckled a bit, assuming she was in a delusional state of hearing, and in the back of her mind she told herself to kill Bianca for getting her this high. Delusions were her least favorite part of getting high.. "Did you get high off of cow manure at the petting zoo with the Brady Bunch?" she teased, fiddling with his belt buckle. When his hands harshly grabbed her wrists to stop her actions, her body tensed and she locked eyes with him again.

The seriousness in his grey orbs scared the living shit out of her. "Probably not as high as you."

Natasha panicked. He was on to her, Clint knew her too well. She immediately forced herself to stay calm and took in a deep breath. She was the Black Widow, and nobody overpowers the Black Widow, not even the love of her life.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she retorted, trying to sound offended by his actions. "I'm not high." She tried not to gasp when Clint harshly grabbed her face with his hand, forcing her eyes closer to his. "Don't lie to me," he hissed, searching her eyes for tracks.

Instinctively, Natasha whacked his arms away and pushed herself off of him. Stomping her way to the bed, she grabbed her jeans and started to dress herself. Her near frantic actions made Clint's jaw clench. It took every ounce of strength he had to bite his tongue to give his mind a few extra seconds to thoroughly and properly word out his thoughts.

"I ran into Bianca today, she said she was "shopping" with a friend. You and I both know what Bianca's kind of shopping is," Clint managed to word out. Natasha froze.

Shit.

"And because she is in New York, you automatically assume she is here for me? She is a United States citizen Clint," Natasha managed to respond, albeit not in a confident voice she was aiming for. She angrily put her shirt back on. She needed to think quickly if she was going to save her ass.

"Natasha." His clenched teeth and forced tone was not making it any easier for her.

"And you guys really really are a piece of work," she continued, fidgeting to reposition her shirt. "You tell me to go relax to curb my anger, and when I do you turn around and tell me I am high on drugs. What the fuck do you want from me?" she exclaimed. Her own anger was starting to rise as a defense mechanism and she felt as if her head was about to explode. She needed to think quicker.

"Tasha, please tell me you aren't high," Clint repeated, anger still evident in her voice.

"I try to please every one of all you by doing things I absolutely don't like, like buying a dress for Pepper's bullshit and it still isn't enough!" she continued.

Clint had enough, she was avoiding his question and he was losing his patience. The hawk, the ever patient hawk had reached the end of his rope.

"Natasha!" Clint bellowed, grabbing her and slamming her entire body harshly against the wall. Her head bounced with a thud against the concrete, and she bit on her lip to suppress the grunt of pain when Clint pushed her shoulders hard again, pinning her against her will. "Are you or are you not back on cocaine? And don't lie to me or so help me God I will snap your neck!" Natasha's eyes widened. Never had Clint yelled at her in this tone of voice and never had he hurt her body so.

But more importantly, he gave her the perfect opportunity to cover her tracks.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm NOT doing COCAINE." Both breathing heavily, it took Clint a moment to release his painful grip on her shoulders. Her eyes answered the truth to his question. She was in fact not doing COCAINE.

"You love the fact that you didn't lie, but didn't tell the truth either eh?" the little voice in the back of her head taunted her.

"Tasha," he whispered, anger vanishing and hurt and regret now seeping his entire body. Before he could think, Natasha pushed him away roughly, and reached for her bag.

"Baby please," Clint called out. But Natasha didn't stop. With that, she left the room and presumably the house.

Clenching his fists, Clint punched the concrete wall, breaking the skin of his knuckles.

Though he got the answer he wanted, he knew that whatever the situation was, he had just made it much much worse.

The rain had completely drenched her when she entered the bar.

Her usual bouncy red curls now clung to her face, but thankfully her jacket had protected the rest of her body. Not that she cared how she looked at the moment, all she wanted was a drink, or 12, and to forget about the event that just happened.

"Screwdriver," she ordered and took a seat on the empty bar stool of the somewhat hip New York bar she found herself in.

Lost was the only word that could describe Natasha's feelings at the moment. Was she experiencing some kind of heroin trip, or did Clint really just manhandle her? The pain in her head and shoulders suggested the latter, but Natasha couldn't be too sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore and it scared the living shit out of her.

"Rough night?" a voice asked.

Natasha looked up to find a handsome young man with chocolate brown hair standing in front of her, a drink in hand offered to her.

"You could say that," Natasha mumbled, but surprisingly enough letting him take a seat and accepting his drink.

"Natasha," she introduced herself, extending a hand to him. The young man smiled back, taking her hand in his.

"Peter Parker."

OH YES, I went there :)

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