The Gothic Geek - Thank you! And highfive for catching that Whovian reference! x)

Jenna - Wow! Thank you so much! It's reviews like that one that keep me inspired to work on this story, that really means a lot to me. :)

Mockingjay500 - Aww yay! I'm so glad that chapter made you happy! x) And thanks for saying, that because I was a little unsure about it myself so I was really encouraged by that. :)

Actually pretty happy with how this turned out. Hope you guys enjoy it! ^-^

Natasha froze. Clint was standing just outside her door, hands in his pockets, head tipped on its side as his bright eyes searched her face. The shirt he was wearing was light blue and rather snug, and suddenly all Natasha could think about was her friends' comments about his amazing abs.

She swallowed.

"Hi." The single syllable felt awkward on her tongue.

Clint simply nodded in reply. His bluish eyes were still fixed on her; he seemed more inclined at the moment to study her than to make conversation.

Natasha leaned against the doorframe.

"What's going on?"

Clint rocked back on his heels. "I'm here for the kitten."

Natasha reflected vaguely that it should be illegal for Clint's deep, masculine voice to pronounce the word 'kitten'.

Clint's forehead wrinkled. "It… is my day… right?"

Natasha frowned thoughtfully. "Mm, I think so."

Clint ran his fingers absentmindedly through his light hair. Natasha took a huge swallow of beer.

There was a noisy explosion of laughter from her guests, and Clint's eyes flicked toward the kitchen.

"Oh, sorry," he said after a moment. "Is this a bad time?"

Natasha started, realizing he was about to offer to leave and she didn't want him to. "Oh – oh, no, it's fine, sorry, come in," she stammered, tugging the door open.

Clint nodded and stepped inside.

Natasha led the way to the kitchen rather hesitantly. I swear, if any of them make any kind of comment…

She came around the corner and cleared her throat, interrupting their light chatter.

"Barton's here." She let a threatening note slip into her voice, subtly warning them to watch what they said.

Her friends turned around, and their faces cracked into four mischievous grins.

Der'mo.

"Clint!" "Hey, Barton!" "How great to see you!" "Come sit down!"

Clint blinked, looking surprised at the enthusiastic welcome, but started forward as Natasha crossed her arms and very obviously rolled her eyes.

"He doesn't come here for Girls' Night," she informed them warningly. And then, "He's not staying long."

She fixed each of her friends with a fierce scowl behind Clint's back, but they ignored her.

Clint shot her a quick glance, and she quickly rearranged her features.

"But he can have a beer, right?" May waved a glass bottle at them.

Natasha shrugged in resignation. "Yeah, 'course."

If they so much as wink at him…

She stalked into the kitchen and leaned back against the counter, as Clint was handed a beer bottle and beckoned into the barstool she had vacated.

"So, what brings you here, Barton?" Hill asked at length. With half a glance at Natasha, she added, "Duty calls… something like that?"

'Booty calls'. Warmth rushed to Natasha's face, and she huffed loudly. "Hill," she snapped. She glared at the commander, who responded with a beatific smile.

"He's just here for my kitten," Natasha added, boosting herself onto the counter. Gosh. She took a long drag at her beer.

Bobbi looked innocently at her. "Oh, he's here for your pussy?"

Natasha choked on her beer.

Some of her drink burned its way down her windpipe, and she was reduced to coughing uncontrollably, hiding her mouth behind her fist. Her eyes were watering, and it was through a blur of cough-induced tears that she saw her friends smothering gleeful grins.

I hate you guys.

Clint was watching her with a bemused, slightly concerned expression, and Natasha struggled to overcome the coughing fit.

Why does every stupid thing I do have to happen when he's around?

"You know," Hill said, as Natasha's coughing began to subside. "We were just talking about you before you walked in."

Oh hell no. Natasha tried to interrupt, but her windpipe was still irritated and all that came out was another cough.

Clint looked at Hill. "Me?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah," May spoke up, glancing impishly at Natasha. "Nat brought you up."

Clint's warm gaze shifted to her again. Natasha gritted her teeth and concentrated on giving May the most vengeful glower she could muster.

"She… did?" Clint asked doubtfully.

"Yeah, she did," Pepper cut in brightly. "We were just talking about your great idea at the conference last night!"

Natasha shot her a grateful look. At least one of them's on my side…

"Yeah," Bobbi was saying, leaning pensively onto her elbow. "Nat was just talking about how you just pulled that idea out of nowhere and just released it in front of all those people like it was no big deal. It takes a strong man to do that," she added pointedly. "Right, Nat?"

The conceited-looking figure on the Samuel Adams logo became the object of Natasha's scrutiny for the second time that day. Maybe if she stared at his abysmal haircut long enough, she would be able to stop picturing Clint in the shooting range, the muscles in his strong shoulders tightening as he slowly pulled back the bowstring to release an arrow…

"Oh, well thanks," Clint was saying. "It just seemed kind of obvious to me."

"It's a great idea," May replied. "I'd almost call it… mesmerizing."

Natasha's mind was instantly flooded with images of Clint's 'mesmerizing' biceps. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her, and she transferred her intense examination from Samuel Adams to her fingernails. They were starting to look a little rough, she should probably get a manicure before the conference tomorrow…

Pepper briskly cleared her throat. "You know, Clint, they really are going to use your suggestion."

I love you, Pepper.

"They are?" Clint was saying.

"They've fixed it with the UN," Pepper continued. (Natasha finally summoned the courage to lift her head.) "The conference is tomorrow, at the Supreme Court Building."

"Tomorrow?" Clint raised his eyebrows. "That was fast."

"I guess they wanted to get on your idea as quickly as possible," Pepper replied.

"That's really, really smart," Bobbi spoke up. "They're doing it right away. They're doing Clint's thing as quickly as possible. Good advice."

Blyad.

Natasha's face was hot as she sprang to her feet. "Okay, you know what, we are going to get the kitten. Barton?"

She stalked into the bedroom.

Strela was asleep in her bed. Natasha took a deep breath, composing herself as she crossed the room and knelt down next to the kitten.

Clint stepped into the room a moment later. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, then strode across the room and knelt down on her right.

Natasha kept her eyes trained carefully on Strela, to keep herself from getting distracted. "She sleeps most the time," she informed her partner. "Just feed her three to four times a day. She eats wet cat food. It's in the carrier. Here." She retrieved a few cans and slid them towards him without looking at him.

Clint picked up the cans. "Anything else I should know?"

Natasha shook her head. There was a silence.

"Okay. We have to put her in the carrier now. She'll wake up," Natasha said, more to fill the silence than anything else. She reached forward and pet Strela's head with her finger. "Okay, baby," she murmured (to Strela, not to Clint). "You gotta get up now. Okay?"

Strela shifted and flicked an ear. Then she yawned, and her blue eyes blinked sleepily. She stretched, and Natasha smiled fondly.

Clint chuckled softly, stirring beside Natasha. She glanced at him, and found his face mere inches away, his spectacular eyes fastened on her.

And instead of feeling uncomfortable or shy under his gaze the way she had so often lately, Natasha felt a warm rush of affection, so strong that her chest ached.

She loved him so damn much, it was insane. She couldn't think about anything else when he was around, yet she didn't even know how he felt about her.

And then May's words flashed unbidden through her mind: "Well, if you really want to know how he feels about you, a kiss on the mouth is a good test."

And suddenly, screw taking her cue from him, screw waiting for a hint; she would take May's advice and kiss him.

He was already so close to her, and it was all too easy for her to move in, getting rid of those leftover inches of air between them. She could see his eyes widening as she drew nearer, she could see him shifting towards her, she could see his hand moving to hold the side of her face, and then—

No.

It was all too easy for her to move in, but she didn't. She could see his eyes widening, his posture shifting, his hand moving, she could see it all clearly in her mind's eye; but it wasn't happening, she wouldn't let it happen.

She was in love with Clint, but he didn't necessarily feel the same way. And if she acted on her feelings when he didn't return them, what then? It could potentially ruin their friendship; and if there was one thing on earth she would never risk, it was Clint's friendship.

Natasha tore her eyes away from Clint's face and looked at Strela instead. Strela was blinking her round eyes calmly at them, and Natasha's attention finally slid off of kissing Clint and locked onto the job at hand: getting Strela in the carrier.

"Ready to go?" she asked the kitten. She slid the cat food into the back of the carrier, then carefully lifted the small bed and slipped it in as well. She was very aware of Clint' gaze on her, and was locking the carrier when Clint's voice speaking her name made her freeze.

She turned to look at him, relieved that there was a little more distance between them now.

Clint tilted his head towards the door. "What was…?"

Natasha looked at the door. It took her a second to piece together what he was referring to: her friends' suggestive comments in the kitchen.

"Oh. That?" Natasha laughed awkwardly. She could feel the beginnings of a blush on her face, and she quickly turned her head away on the pretense of double-checking the carrier locks.

"Nothing," she said after a moment. "They were just teasing me."

Well, that part was true, anyway.

Natasha got to her feet and lifted the car carrier. "Ready?"

Clint nodded and stood, leading the way to the door.

They passed through the kitchen on the way out. Natasha's guests called out their goodbyes, and tossed a few meaningful glances that fortunately seemed to go unnoticed by Clint.

The two of them stepped out into the hall, and Natasha pulled the door to.

"Here." She held the carrier towards her partner. Clint's fingers brushed past hers on the handle as he took it.

"See you tomorrow." Natasha turned away, simultaneously disappointed and relieved to be saying goodbye.

"Wait. Nat."

Natasha froze. There was something in his tone that made her pulse speed up, and she turned to face him expectantly.

Clint had set down the cat carrier, and now he was gazing at her with sudden intensity in his blue-gray eyes. He took a slow step toward her, and her breath caught in her throat.

Then Clint moved forward, his hands lifting toward her, and then he was right in front of her, his arms slipping around her waist.

Natasha went rigid with surprise as Clint tugged her closer, pressing her to his warm chest.

Is he hugging me? Why is he hugging me? He's never hugged me before.

Before she had a chance to overcome her confusion and enjoy the moment, Clint was pulling back, one arm remaining around her waist while the other hand moved to hold the side of her face.

Last night after the meeting, she'd been sure he was going to kiss her. She'd thought he was reaching out to hold her face, like he was doing now, but then he'd stopped.

Well, he wasn't stopping this time.

He was looking seriously at her, his gaze traveling across her face, and she saw his eyes flick briefly down to her lips. Natasha's heart was throbbing painfully, and then Clint leaned in and…

...kissed her on the cheek?

Natasha's heart dropped all the way to her stomach.

Of course. He wasn't going to kiss her. He didn't want to kiss her. He only saw her as a friend. He had laughed outright at even the idea of being in a relationship with her.

Disappointment welled up in Natasha's stomach. And then she was pushing him away, and he jumped back, and she hastened back into her home without another word.

Natasha trudged back up the hallway toward the kitchen. She couldn't believe she'd made the same stupid mistake twice in two days. She needed to get it out of her head that Clint wanted to kiss her; just because she wanted to kiss him, he didn't automatically feel the same way.

Get a grip, Romanoff…

She entered the kitchen, and was instantly on the receiving end of four hopeful gazes.

"What happened?" May asked.

"Did you make out?" Bobbi added.

Natasha returned to her barstool and took a long pull at Clint's abandoned beer bottle, scowling. "He kissed my cheek," she mumbled.

"What!"

"Natasha," Pepper said, beaming. "That's—"

"Awful," Hill finished.

Bobbi stared at Hill in disbelief. "What?"

"If he was going to kiss you at all, it should have been on the mouth, not the cheek," May put in.

Pepper frowned. "But… a kiss on the cheek is a good sign, too."

"A kiss on the cheek is a platonic gesture," Hill informed her dryly.

Natasha took another sip of beer.

"Not necessarily," Bobbi disagreed. "It can be a positive sign, too – he probably just hasn't worked up the courage to kiss her on the lips yet."

"If he can kiss her on the cheek, he can kiss her on the mouth," May said flatly.

"Look, can we not discuss this right now?" Natasha interrupted, glowering. She was somewhat unsettled by how casually they were referencing the idea of Clint kissing her on the mouth, when it was the most thrilling, incredible, intoxicating idea she could imagine.

"Sorry," Bobbi said instantly.

Natasha sighed. "Just tell me what to do. I don't know what to do, I don't know what this means." She felt so helpless and inexperienced in this area.

"Well… it's looking like we don't either," Hill admitted. "We're kind of divided here."

"So now what?" Natasha asked again.

Pepper sighed. "Nat, we really don't know. This might be a good thing, it might not. It looks like all you can do is what you've already been doing – just wait."

Natasha groaned and drew a hand through her hair. "All this waiting will make me insane; one of these days I'm just going to snap."

"Well, maybe it won't be much longer," May said optimistically. "Just keep watching him, and maybe you'll see something different."

I guess that's what I'll do, then.

Really, it's the only thing I can do.

Right?

Sorry I didn't get this out yesterday. :/ It's been getting more challenging lately to post in a timely manner, but I'll keep plugging away! I doubt I'll have time to write tomorrow, but I'll certainly try to post sometime this week. :)

I appreciate your guys' support so much, honestly, I don't deserve it. :P All my reviewers are just so kind and it's uplifting. I know I've said this before, but thank you thank you thank you all!,! Shoutout to every reviewer, follower, favoriter, and reader - you're amazing, to be honest. :)