Chapter 13

In the week that followed the little incident Natasha was given a bit more freedom as she proved that she was under control of herself. Fury allowed her access to both the cafeteria and the gym without assistance. She still wasn't allowed off the base and if it wasn't the cafeteria or the gym she'd have to get one of the other higher up agents to accompany her. She didn't worry about that though because she didn't go anywhere else.

She had also been given a room. It was still sort of away from everyone else, no one really wanted to be in a room so close to the Black Widow, and it was only a hall away from Barton's room. While the room wasn't guarded like the cell had been, there was a patrol man that walked down the hall every hour and there was a camera watching it from the outside as well. It wasn't much but it was a start.

So far, Clint was the only one who was openly friendly to her. He was the only one who would willingly come up and speak to her. Clint had never felt the need to have a friend. Actually, he'd never really had any friends except Coulson and maybe Hill on good days. Fury was his boss but he could tell the man had a soft spot for him, even if he hid it really well. However, Clint had never tried to get a friend. With Natasha it was different. For some reason he wanted to be close to her and to show her that he could be her friend and watch out for her, that she could trust him. He didn't understand it.

It was morning time and Clint headed to the cafeteria. Since it was breakfast time he figured that Natasha might be there. She naturally woke up early in the mornings so she would get there before a majority of the people would be awake. She would eat something quick and then head to the gym. Clint also had a habit of getting up early in the mornings. Some mornings he would catch her in the cafeteria and some she would already be in the gym. This morning, Clint arrived to see the table that she usually sat at was empty. He grabbed something quick and ate it while he was walking down the hall towards the gym. Just as expected, Natasha was there going to town on a punching bag.

A few feet away, sitting on a bench, was one of Natasha's old guards. He was watching her as she trained. Clint ate the last bite of his breakfast and threw the wrapper in to the trash can located by the doors then went to have a seat next to the man. They didn't know each other too well but they had a few pleasant conversations and he was nice enough.

"Good morning Agent Barton," he said with a nod.

"Morning Agent Adams," Clint sat down and rubbed his still tired eyes. "Thought you were off of guard duty?" Adams nodded and looked back to where Natasha was still going.

"I am," he said "just watching."

"You getting creepy in your old age?" Adams wasn't really old, but at thirty-six, he was a good sixteen years older than Clint. Adams chuckled and shook his head slightly.

"No, but she's good," he said and nodded his head in Natasha's direction. Clint looked and Adams was right. She was just doing a couple of basic moves but she had a gracefulness about her that most agents lacked.

"What are you doing up this early," Clint asked after a moment.

"Couldn't sleep," Adams replied "I was actually about to leave. I've been here about an hour." He said and before Clint could even make the joke he added "She just got here maybe ten minutes ago Barton. I'm not some pervert." Clint smiled as Adams gathered up his things and headed off.

"He admires you," Clint said when the door had shut. He had no doubt that she had heard them talking.

"I'm nothing to admire." She replied without slowing down with what she was doing. Clint watched her for a moment longer then got up and walked over to her. He notice that something about her was different this morning. She hit just a little harder, stared with a bit more intensity, and moved just a little faster.

"You look like you could use a partner." Her movements stilled and she looked at him. "Something is bothering you," something like disbelief flashed across her face and disappeared just as quickly as it came. He knew then that he was right. "It's better to have something that can hit back." He said after a moment. She continued to stare at him as if trying to figure out if he was being serious or not. "I haven't had an actual sparring partner in a while. No one that could truly match me." She continued to stare at him "I was hoping you'd be interested." He shrugged "it beats hitting the bags." He walked over to one of the sparring mats and turned to face her, he waited for her to make her decision. Internally, he breathed was jumping up and down when she gave a slight nod and walked over to join him on the mat. Outside, he simply nodded back and kept up his calm demeanor.

They took their stance, both sizing up there new opponent and waiting for them to strike. Her eyes watched his every move just as his did with her. She was the first to move. She aimed a hit at his face, which he blocked, but never saw the fist that was aiming for his stomach until it hit its target. He groaned slightly but knew that, had she wanted to, she could have made that hurt a lot more than it did.

"Holding back on me Widow?" He asked with a smirk "you must like me." The next hit wasn't as gentle. He coughed and smiled at her "there you go." He blocked a kick that was aimed at his head and landed a hit to her stomach as payback. He didn't hold back and she paused for a second and looked up at him. He thought he might have hit her too hard but then there was the tiniest of gleam in her eyes. She rushed at him and performed a complicated move that involved getting him into a head lock, kicking his knees, and flipping them so that she landed on top of him. "So, you going to tell me what's bothering you." He broke the hold that she had and rolled them over. She used his weight against him and was on top again when they came to a stop. He barely noticed that they were off the mat.

"It's nothing," she replied and it was more than what he'd been hoping for. He broke the hold again but this time he rolled away from her. They both got to their feet and almost simultaneously they were kicking and punching at each other. They blocked and dodged each other's hits as if they'd been fighting together for years.

"Something is bothering you." He said as he ducked a kick and grabbed her other ankle at the same time. He pulled but instead of falling to the ground she caught herself on her hands and used her free leg to kick him in the chest. He fell back but jumped to his feet at the same time she righted herself.

"I'm fine Barton," she came at him again and jumped up in the air. He felt her legs wrap around his neck and his arm being grabbed as she brought him to the ground. He tried to break the grip she had both on his neck and arm but he couldn't. She was the first person to pin him since he could remember and he couldn't bring himself to be anything but happy about it. He tapped her leg with his free hand about the same time another voice was heard.

"What's going on in here?" She released him and he looked up to find Coulson staring down at them. Clint smiled up at him and got slowly to his feet. The fall wasn't cushioned so it had hurt more than it would have if they were on the mats but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

"Coulson," he said. He turned to help Natasha up but she was already up. He rubbed his back and looked at his handler. "Just some morning sparring to start the day off." Coulson looked from him to the woman standing beside him. He had come in just in time to see her take his agent and best friend down to the ground. For a moment, if he were any less composed than he was, he would have rushed over and yanked her away from him. There was a hint of what Clint knew to be distrust as he looked at her, and Clint had a hunch that if he could see it then it was probably a neon sign for Natasha. She remained silent though.

"You have paperwork to do," Coulson said looking back to him. "Did you forget?"

"I wasn't planning to remember," Clint replied. Coulson crossed his arms over his chest and sent him a look that told him he wasn't in the mood. Clint groaned and looked at Natasha. "You sure you don't want to kill me now?" She arced an eyebrow at him like she was contemplating it.

"Enough of that," Coulson grabbed his arm and began dragging him out of the room.

"Ease up Phil," they both knew he wasn't talking about his handler's grip on his arm.

"You do know that she probably knows hundreds of way to kill you right?"

"We were just sparring," Clint sighed.

"I don't trust her."

"Obviously." They entered the room that was full of desk and other agents who've been caught behind on their paperwork. The air was filled with their despair. Coulson led him over to his desk and practically pushed him into the chair. "Hey Phil?"

"What Clint?" Clint flashed him a smile.

"She pinned me," Coulson rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You would be happy about that." He said "get your paperwork done." Clint groaned and his eyes slowly trailed up to the vents. A loud thump of a large file being slammed on the desk brought his attention back to his handler and his very serious look that he was giving him. "Don't. Even. Think. About. It."