Natasha stepped into the report office and smiled. Clint was sitting with his back to the door, muttering to himself as his pen traveled across the paper in front of him. She walked quietly up behind him and dragged her fingernails up the back of his neck.

Clint exhaled and dropped his head forward, allowing her to run her fingers up into his hairline and across his scalp. His pen slid from his grip and he held very still.

Natasha's grin widened, and she flicked the back of his head.

"Ouch," Clint complained. He dropped his head back and smiled up at her.

She smiled back, gripping the sides of his chair. "What are you up to?"

"Apparently after I did those reports last week, Coulson decided it was a good time to cash in some others I forgot to do a while back."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Slacker."

"Hey, don't act like you always get yours in on time," Clint returned. "Coulson's probably just waiting for the right moment to spring them on you.

Natasha smirked down at him. "Good to know. I'll stay out of his way."

Suddenly, Clint's fingers slipped under the hair at the back of her head, and he pulled her down and kissed her. Natasha made a noise of surprise in her throat, then kissed him back.

Finally, she pulled away, smiling and slightly breathless. "Thought we agreed to keep things professional in the workplace."

"Then stop smirking at me like that in the workplace," he said playfully.

Natasha chuckled and straightened up, walking around his chair to lean back against the table, arms folded. "Hey, by the way, what's the latest on the Tarif situation?" Clint asked more seriously. "Have they reached a verdict yet?"

"Not yet," she replied. "Word is the World Security Council's getting involved. Tarif's an international target, so Langley's got the Council up their asses trying to get custody." She shrugged. "That's all I know. I'm not following it too closely; in my mind, it's a done deal. We did our part, now it's time to move on and let the corporate bigwigs handle the rest… Why are you smiling?"

"Nothing," Clint said. "I just…" He paused, and gave her the special smile he reserved just for her. "I'm so in love with you, it's ridiculous."

Natasha smiled and uncrossed her arms. "Get over here, you."

Slowly, Clint stood up and took a step toward her. "Thought we agreed to keep things professional in the workplace."

Natasha's smile grew. "Shut up, you moron, or I'll—"

"Or you'll what?" he cut in. He chuckled as he stopped in front of her, taking her by the waist and resting his forehead against hers.

Natasha smirked, resting her hands on his collarbones. "Sure you want me to finish that sentence?"

"Agent Romanoff?"

At Coulson's voice from the doorway, Clint jumped away from Natasha. He hurriedly returned to his seat as Natasha smoothed her blouse.

"There you are," Coulson said, walking into the room. His eyes flicked briefly between the two of them, but he didn't comment. "You know, it's lucky you're already in here, because I have a job for you." He passed her a stack of folders.

Natasha frowned. "What are these?"

"Old mission files," Coulson said happily. "Turns out there are some from a while back you forgot to turn in reports on. I just figured since you're already here, now would be a good time to do those."

Natasha carefully avoided looking at Clint. She forced a smile.

"Be happy to."

"Great," Coulson said. "I'll expect those back by the end of the day." He turned and strolled out of the room.

Natasha turned to Clint, who was beaming at her. "Go ahead, gloat all you want."

"Oh, I will," Clint said gleefully. "You better believe I will. Join me at the slammer table, sweetheart, cause you've got some report filing to do!"

"Shut up, Clint," Natasha said through his laughter. She rolled her eyes, shaking his head as she joined him at the desk.


I'd love to hear your final thoughts on this! And thanks so much for reading. :)