A/N: For Tiff.

I'll Just Bet You Are - Steph X Clint

Steph's POV

I was pretty sure I wasn't the only one who sometimes did things that might be a bit out of character as a result of their soulmark words. And really, how could you not. From a very early age, especially if you were born with your words like I was, that soulmates existed. Pairs or more of people who fate had decided were only complete when they were together. Sure, everyone knew at least one soulmate bound group who that just didn't work. Most people also knew someone whose soulmate faded into oblivion before they managed meet. But if you had yet to meet your soulmate, no matter how old you got, and your words hadn't disappeared, there was a tiny bit of your heart that could not get over the sheer possibility they represented.

So if, for instance, your soulmate words said something like, "hey! Watch where you're going!" you were more prone to not pay attention or just randomly run into people you didn't know. Or if your words said, "hey, can I buy you a drink?" you would probably be more likely to sit around in bars alone, hoping that someone was going to make you an offer and whatever you said in response would fit their words.

It was all very chicken and the egg. If the fates knew you were going to be together, and knew that you were going to say those words, then how could it be that you did something to cause them because they were said? Every time I really sat down and thought about it, it made me want a drink. Or a dessert. Hell, why not have both?

Still my words were kind of generic, so it was hard to really think of what I was going to say that would make my soulmate respond with the words he would respond with. And I was almost certain it was a he. Whenever I could manipulate the circumstances or my introductions in a way to try to make the person I was meeting say them, it didn't come close to working. But that was okay because one day it would happen.

When I woke up on St. Patrick's day, I felt lucky. Cliche though it may have been, that was the only way to describe it. It was going to be a lucky day. I spent my day stumbling across skips without even really trying and bringing them in without incident- almost like I was a professional or something.

I had plans to go to the bar and drink green beer with some of the Merry Men after work, and I had just enough time when I stopped by the bank to drop off the checks for all five of the days' skips to stop by the mall and pick up something for myself in celebration. My first stop had been Victoria's Secret where I grabbed an emerald green underwear set, just for fun. I wasn't planning to stop anywhere else, but I caught a shirt in the corner of my eye that gave me pause. I studied it and figured that it could be a precursor to the words I had written across my chest in the very same spot that the shirt would proclaim me "magically delicious."

I mean, come on, a shirt that said something my soulmate's words could absolutely follow directly over where those words were written presented itself to me already on holiday clearance a day early and on the luckiest day I'd had possibly in my entire life? There was no way that was a coincidence.

Dashing home with even more bounce to my step, I showered, shaved, buffed, and polished every inch of my body. I took extra time to examine myself in the new green underwear, satisfied with the result still and suffering no buyers remorse. With a quick glance at my watch, I dashed out the door just in time for the Merry Man DD service to pick me up mentally reminding myself not to call it that in front of Ranger. He always got a pained look on his face and told me his men were not toys nor did they live to serve when I said things like that. Then I would point out that he put me on lockdown with them and forced me to spend so much time with them that it was his own damn fault that I had them wrapped around my finger. After that, he would pout. Sure, he didn't look anything other than normal or maybe slightly pained, but I knew he was pouting on the inside.

Plus, the men kind of were toys in that some of them let me treat them like my own little ken dolls. As I slid into the front seat next to Tank, I peeked my head into the back. With great satisfaction I saw Woody wearing the "World's Tallest Leprechaun" shirt I had bought him, and Hector with the ridiculous rainbow shirt I'd forced him to accept despite some very dark and threatening mutterings. Try as he might, he just couldn't intimidate me anymore. Tank cut his eyes over to me and took in my outfit with a groan, "Little Girl, you're going to make us start a bar fight to protect your honor tonight, aren't you?"

"Hey, anything that gets me out of having to eat corned beef and cabbage with Cal at midnight because it's his weird ass tradition is fine with me!"

"Awwww, Steph, you promised!" I heard from the very back.

"Did I? Let's review," I shouted, "I believe I told you it was an interesting tradition. I verified that the pub did in fact have corned beef and cabbage and would still be serving it at midnight. I did not, however, actually agree to eat it with you! Besides, I'm planning to fill up on booze because I am celebrating."

"Oh yeah, Beautiful, what's that?" called Lester who looked less than thrilled to be sitting bitch in the backseat.

"Didn't you hear, Les? Today has been my lucky day! I caught five skips today without any issues!"

The men offered me various congratulations, and Tank did as well, but when we stopped at a red light he looked pointedly at my shirt and quietly said, "you know, you might not meet him today."

I pasted a smile on my face even though the idea made me want to cry and said, "I know, but it's worth a shot, right?"

We made it into the pub, grabbed a table, and took turns ordering the rounds. When it was my turn, I waved off offers to help, and wandered up to the bar. I was casually leaning with my arms on the bar, kind of framing my chest when I saw a man get shoved forward by a group of friends. I felt his presence next to me and shifted so I was facing him a little more as he opened his mouth. Whatever he was about to say was lost as he took in the writing on my shirt. He closed his mouth and then opened it again and said the words I'd been waiting to hear my whole life.

"I'll just bet you are," he said with such a carnal promise in his voice that all I could do was look at his muscular physique, especially those arms, and lick my lips.

Finally I shook myself a little and my mouth just started talking before I could really think about it. "Fuck yeah, I am one lucky bitch. And I love today," I replied.

Slowly a smile broke out over his face and he pulled his shirt up over his equally muscular torso until I could read my words across his chest. I laughed because they were in pretty much the exact same place as mine and then clapped a hand over my mouth. He didn't look more than a year or two older than me, so he'd had my words since he was a small child.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered.

He dropped his shirt back down before he pulled my hand away from my mouth, kissing it and placing it on his back. Then he mirrored the action with his hands on the small of my back and pulled me closer. "Trust me, Honey, there's nothing to be sorry about unless you have to break it to me that it isn't your handwriting."

"Steph," I said without really thinking. After all, my soulmate definitely needed to know my name. "And, it is your writing, but I mean, you must have had that when you were a kid. Gosh, your parents probably hate me."

"Well, I got them when I was five, but they weren't around to know. Really, with my background, it wasn't really a problem. And the name's Clint Barton. Now, do I get to make sure my handwriting matches your words."

It was getting a little difficult to think with the fact that he was so hot, he was standing so close, and there was an undeniable force I felt pushing me to solidify our bond- something I'd only heard of spoken in soft whispers but obviously never experienced for myself. And we definitely couldn't do that in public. I licked my lips again, fascinated by the way his eyes followed the motion.

"Ummm, well. I can't really. And we just met." I worried my lip in my teeth, trying to fight off the desire coiling in my belly. That pull was relentless, so finally I just said, "fuck it."

I took a step back from him just far enough to create a little space and pulled out the neckline of my shirt far enough for him to get a glimpse down at my cleavage and his writing. It must have matched because the next thing I knew, his hands slid down to cup my ass through my jeans as he pulled me up into him and gave me a kiss that was just barely not something that would get us thrown in jail. I could hear clamoring around us but didn't really fully register it until Clint pulled away panting. When we looked up, we both froze.

Obviously not liking me being manhandled in the bar by a complete stranger, the Merry Men had tried to intervene. Then Clint's friends had tried to protect him. Both groups were clearly kind of intense, and now they were holding weapons on each other. Except for Lester who had been disarmed by a small woman with red hair and she had him in a position I was sure he'd enjoy if he didn't look to be a second away from peeing his pants.

"Do you think you can convince her to teach me that?" I whispered to Clint.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I'll be spending a lot of time trying to get her to only teach you that."

"Sweet, that's going to be so useful at work."

Clint startled next to me, "what exactly do you do?"

I was slowly taking in the people around us and recognizing them one by one. "I'm a bond enforcement agent," I replied slowly and without thought. Eyes wide I turned back to Clint and said, "wait a minute, what did you say your name was again?"

He gave me a grin that put Ranger's wolf grin to shame and said, "exactly what you think I said."

"Beautiful, you let him touch you like that and you didn't even know his name?" Lester said sounding surprisingly scandalized.

"Like you're one to talk, Les, you're a giant man-whore. And Clint is my soulmate." I replied scowling at him. Then to the woman I was 90% certain was The Black Widow on top of him I said, "And you really might want to get off him before he gets ideas and says something that will make you break him."

Her smile widened and I heard Clint groan next to me and felt his arms tighten around my waist as he pulled me into him more securely. In what was one of the raspiest voices I'd ever heard from a woman, she said, "thanks for the warning, I'll take your word for it." As she stood, she stepped to the side, grabbed a stack of napkins from a nearby table and dipped them in water. Rubbing on her arm to take off what seemed to be a thick layer of makeup, she flashed me the words I had just spoken written on her arm grey. I in turn showed her the writing on the palm of my hand. When she nodded in recognition, Clint put a hand over my mouth and tried to use his arms to cover up my ears.

I was laughing as he said, "nope, the rest of you can talk to her and meet her tomorrow. Tasha, back off. Steph and I are going to go get to know each other a little better."

A shiver went through my body as I thought of all the ways I wanted to get to know him. When the Merry Men made a move to protest, I pointed at them and said, "stay. I can make this decision for myself and I'm going with Clint. I will see you tomorrow… late." I grabbed Clint's hand and pulled him with me toward the door calling back over my shoulder to a distressed looking Tank, "I'm sure he can take care of any crazies who can come after me between now and then!"

We stepped out of the pub and I threw up my hand hailing a cab instantly. Really, it was my favorite day. I gave the cab driver my address as Clint asked, "Uh, should I be worried about that last bit?"

"Nope, not today. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow if you want, for now just-" I cut myself off by pulling his mouth into mine. It had been a great day, and I knew it was about to be an amazing night.