Hello again! As promised, I have another chapter for you all. It's a bit different from previous ones, but we'll be back with the usual adventures with the next update. This chapter just sort of happened out of nowhere, so it doesn't really fit with the story so far, but I liked it. Review if you liked it (or didn't!) so I know whether to do something like this again. Anyway, here you are.

Having suffered from panic attacks himself, Tony knew how to recognise them. The speed at which his daughter's body had gone from stiff as a board to floppy was startling, even to him. The complete lack of concern or assistance from the paparazzi was angering, but he had to focus on Rosalina. Was she breathing? Yes. Fitting? No. Elevated heart rate, eyes not focussing; definitely a panic attack. He would have seen if slapping her helped, but that would have just caused a scene. When she did come round, it seemed like hours had passed. There wasn't even enough time to ascertain as to whether she was alright before she jumped in the suit and flew off.

"Rhodes!"

"Go, man, I'll catch up."

Pushing through to the car, he waved the chauffeur away. Tony called for JARVIS to track Rosalina's flight path and set off in the general direction she had flown. One global positioning had calibrated, he sped after his daughter.

The click of Pepper's heels on the hardwood floor of her office was starting to get irritating. After signing angrily to one another for 20 minutes, Clint decided it was definitely Natasha's job to see what was wrong. Hearing Pepper sigh after what must have been the fifteenth failed call, she entered the room. Not noticing her enter, Pepper threw her phone across the room in anger, almost hitting Natasha. Luckily the spy's reflexes were sharp enough that she could catch it before it shattered a window, or her jaw.

"What have they done now, Pepper?"

"Rosalina jumped out of a window yesterday, and now she's disappeared…"

Ah, yes. Would it be sensible to tell Pepper that she knew where she had gone? Deciding against it, Natasha tossed the phone onto an office chair and enveloped Pepper in an embrace. She wasn't usually so touchy-feely, but she could recognise when Pepper needed emotional support. It was draining, being around the Starks.

"Has Tony gone to find her?"

Pepper scoffed. "Of course not; he said she'll turn up eventually and not to bother! He's going to London in a few hours for that conference thing. I've tried ringing her myself, but she won't accept my calls, and Tony's line is engaged..."

It was at that moment that Pepper started crying uncontrollably into Nat's shoulder. Thinking for a moment, she considered whether to go and get Rosalina herself. She still had that jet Fury had given to her as part of their wager. He was stupid for denying that SHIELD would become nothing more than an Earth-bound police force. Staring out of the window, she patted Pepper's back, the tears soaked through her shirt. She was about to try and say something comforting when she saw one of Rosalina's suits flying away from the tower. She tensed in surprise for a millisecond before relaxing again, bringing her attention back to the crying woman clinging to her.

"Pepper… I know his isn't terribly helpful, but Tony's right. Rosalina has recently suffered the loss of her planet." Pepper tensed and raised her head to look her dead in the eye. "I know, she was born and raised on earth. I understand that. But she spent four years of her life on Vulcan. She dedicated countless others to getting herself there in the first place. If you keep trying to get her to open up, she'll just keep it closer to herself. Trust me. Just give her time to work out what's going on in her head. She'll come to you when she's ready."

Pepper's puffy eyes started watering again, a weak smile of thanks spreading on her lips. She wiped her eyes, sniffing as she made her way over to her chair. Sensing it was time for her to go, Natasha made her exit. Clint put his hand on her shoulder as she closed the door quietly behind herself. He followed when she walked to the elevator, pushing the button for his floor. Natasha headed straight for their weapons room, picking up one of the antiquated sniper rifles she knew he favoured, cleaning it. He sat on the table in front of her, hands gripping the edge either side of his knees.

"She got my shirt wet."

"Shut up, idiot."

"Alright spidey, no need to go all Russian on me."

Quick as a flash, she slammed the butt of the gun into his abdomen. Grunting with the force of the blow, he grabbed the gun and pulled her towards him. With the gun now in his hands, he placed it next to him, gripping her to him.

"You're always so violent."

"You know I hate it when you call me that."

"Yeah, but you're cute when you're angry."

Glaring at him, she tried half-heartedly to wriggle out of his arms. Clint gripped her tighter. 'So, you want to play?' she thought, flashing him her murderous smile as she flipped him onto the floor. They sparred jovially for a few minutes, Natasha eventually giving up and allowing Clint to pin her to the floor. He smiled down at her, brushing stray locks of red hair off her face. The door suddenly opened to reveal Bruce, prompting them both to jump to their feet.

"Oh! Hi guys. Um, I was just wondering if it was okay to go up and see Pepper? Tony asked me to pass on a message…"

"I should imagine so, Bruce."

"Okay, thanks. Sorry if I was interrupting…"

"Not at all." Natasha smiled innocently.

The doctor nodded, retreating quickly. Clint called after him just before the door shut.

"Watch out for projectiles, Doc!"

That earned him a playful slap from Natasha. Lightly gripping her wrists, he pulled her towards him again, encasing her in his arms as he spoke softly in her mother tongue.

"Your talk with Pepper got a bit personal. Are you alright?"

"Yes, asshole, I'm fine."

"You're not going soft on me, are you?"

"No. I want to protect Rosalina from her mother's overprotective tendencies."

She felt Clint smile against her hair. "Are you sure Pepper's the one being overprotective?"

"Well, we never had kids, so she's the closest thing I've got to a daughter."

She realised immediately that she had said something wrong by the look of sheer shock on Clint's face. He held her almost at arm's length, staring at her.

"Did you just say what I think you just said?"

Natasha considered trying to get herself out of the following conversation. 'Well. It's started, so we may as well finish.' Taking a deep breath, she answered. "Yes, I did. I said 'we', Clint."

"Why did you…?"

"I don't know. Slip of the tongue."

"I never knew you… I always just assumed…"

"That I didn't want kids?" A slow nod came in reply. "Well, I suppose so. After everything the Red Room did to me, everything they made me do, I didn't want that to happen to them. To… my babies."

The size of the room suddenly made her feel exposed; vulnerable. Kneeling down on the floor, she sat with her hands in her lap, staring at them. She clenched her eyes shut as Clint stroked the back of her hands with his thumb, not wanting to see his expression as she continued.

"To become the Black Widow, I had to kill the other girls. The competition, if you will. I had to commit atrocities just to survive. They taught me not to feel, to believe that they were the only ones who would care for me. That love was for children. Then you spared my life, and I'm still not sure why. I'm grateful for that, Clint; for that second chance. But I could never be normal, not after what they did to me."

She felt him shift round to sit next to her, pulling her into a hug. Natasha rested her head on his chest, allowing the sensation of him stroking her hair to calm her. Reassure her that everything was okay. He was there. Feeling a tear well up, she automatically steeled herself.

"They operated on me, messed up my organs. I can't have kids anyway, so I don't know why I care so much…"

The gentle kiss on her head was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Allowing herself to relax into her partner's embrace, Natasha remembered all the times she had fallen asleep like this on missions. How Clint always made her feel safe. They had silently told one another for years, communicating their feelings through the squeeze of a hand, a reassuring hug, a friendly slap. Allowing the tears to fall silently from her eyes, Nat nestled into Clint's warmth.

"I love you, asshole."

"I love you too."

Do we like the Clintasha, or not? I have no idea how this chapter happened, but I just sorta went with it. Reviews always most welcome.