Hey, this is my first story, so this will basically be a mix of all my favourite ideas for stories about clintasha. This probably won't get many views or any praise, but I want to make these good stories, so if you see this let me know what you think. This one will probably be a two-shot just because I have a tight schedule but I want to give any reader something so I know whether to continue or move on to something else

Sick:

Natasha rolled over, ignoring the immense wave of nausea that followed. The sheets were sticking to every inch of her body, and she was covered in a thin coat of sweat from head to toe. It took far more effort than it should to haul up her aching body and shuffle slowly towards the bathroom.

Clint was away on a mission in Burma and wasn't due until later that day. Natasha knew exactly what he would say if he saw her, probably some form of Russian cursing and then a lot of angry words.

The others (minus Thor, who was away on Asgard business) had no idea that she was sick. No, scratch that, she wasn't sick, just some tiredness catching up with her. The black widow doesn't get sick. Natasha dry-heaved a few more times before dragging herself back towards the bed. The bed was nice enough, stark had done a decent job on the decoration of the room, red and black blackout curtains, plain walls, and plenty of places to hide her many weapons. She crawled underneath the covers and shivered slightly as the nausea returned, oh this was gonna be a long day.

The next time Natasha cracked an eyelid open, the sunlight was peeking through the slightly open curtains in the corner of the room, letting the light spill into the room, the nausea was a little less intense than it had been earlier, but she took some paracetamol just to be on the safe side. the last thing she wanted was the guys seeing her vulnerable. So, she shuffled out of the room and began moving towards the kitchen.

The Avengers tower, courtesy of stark, had the top floors dedicated to the avengers living spaces, but right below them was a lounge, kitchen, and living space for all the avengers to meet, usually it was for watching movies and mealtimes, but there was the odd team-building exercise Fury sent over for them to do. SO when Natasha walked in, she wasn't that surprised to find Steve and Bruce already eating.

"You alright there Nat?" Steve asked, "I didn't see you in the gym this morning". Shit, she normally spends the early morning in the gym beating the crap out of the punching bags till an acceptable hour. Of course Steve would notice that she wasn't in there this morning.

"Yeah, just wanted to catch up on some sleep, plus my room was starting to become a bit messy" Natasha replied, it was a poor excuse but she couldn't exactly tell them about her throwing up in the bowl of the toilet at 3am.

She flicked the coffee pot on and leaned against the counter-top as it started to brew, she could feel a chill coming on, and the nausea was creeping back. the bathroom was at the other end of the room and she wasn't sure if she could make it. No, she thought, I'm the fucking black widow, I can handle a tummy bug. just then, the coffee pot flicked off and she was broken away from her inner argument. she poured herself a steaming mug of it and made her way towards the couch, where she curled up and sipped it gently. Just then Tony walked in,

"Mornin red, no punching bag attacks this morning?"

"Fuck off Stark"

"ooohhh, not in a nice mood this morning are we?"

God stark pissed her off so much, especially today.

"Hey Tash, wanna go spar?", Steve asked. He could sense the tension emanating from Natasha. It didn't help that she was basically shooting daggers at him from her spot on the couch.

She didn't really want to, but she knew it would look suspicious if she declined. So she followed Steve out of the room and headed down into the gym. Within five minutes Steve had her pinned to the floor with her hand twisted halfway up her back. She tapped out quickly before Steve could break her arm and legged it towards the bathroom.

She barely made it in time before she started dry-heaving the coffee from earlier. Steve stood in the doorway with worry written all over his face. "Nat, are you okay?", he immediately ran over to her and pulled her red locks out of her face.

After a few minutes, the nausea passed and she could move her body without immediately having to move back. she looked up at Steve and saw the concern etched in his eyes.

"'m fine", she mumbled.

"shit Nat you're obviously not fine!2 Steve cried "I'm gonna go get Bruce", he got up to leave but Natashas arm grabbed his shirt.

"No, no Bruce"

"Nat, your sick"

"No Bruce", she croaked out, "'m fine, just a little tummy bug"

Steve looked doubtful, but he knew not to disagree with Natasha, "Ok, but if it gets any worse I want you to tell me, or I will tell Clint"

Natashas eyes widened at that, "No no no, he can't know, I promise I'm fine" and with that, she picked herself up and walked out of the room.