Sorry guys. I wanted to get this finished last night, but I got so tired that the things I was typing weren't making any sense. So I had to wait until today. So this is Chapter Nine! And I'm really excited about the turn the story is going to take in the upcoming chapters. Um..there wasn't much musical inspiration for this chapter. Just Say Yes by Snow Patrol was the only one. So I hope you guys enjoy Chapter Nine. Read and Review :)

P.S. I don't own the Avengers.

Chapter Nine: A Moment

Natasha Romanoff

What the hell just happened? I replayed the situation in my head over and over trying to reach a definite conclusion as I stepped onto the elevator. I waited a few seconds, looking up at nothing in particular, wondering if Clint was waiting to catch the next elevator. He finally stepped on just as the doors started closing. The elevator ride was silent. I could feel his eyes every few minutes as he glanced over at me. But I gave him no indication of what I was feeling. My face was smooth and neutral with no tells of the wild rollercoaster I was on inside my head.

He tried to kiss me. It took an excessive amount of force and self-control to keep my breathing quiet and even when I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I was equal parts excited and confused and scared. On one hand, I could feel my heart beating in my ears with adrenaline. There was a part of me that had wanted him to kiss me, even needed it. But there was the other part that was frightened by the implications of what had just happened. Why exactly had he tried to kiss me? Did he really care about me the way I secretly felt for him? Or was it just a fluke, an action that had only come about because of the overtly emotional state I'd been in? I didn't know what to think about it, other than a tad bit of relief. I was almost glad that we didn't kiss. If we crossed that line, we'd both forever be compromised. I'd seen Clint compromised once; I wasn't in any hurry to see it again.

The ride down seemed longer than usual, with each second painfully dragging out in the quiet around them. I could tell Clint wanted to say something, but I could see he didn't know what to say. So he wanted me to say something, but I just couldn't yet. If I opened my mouth to speak, who knew what would come out? Finally the doors opened and we stepped onto the floor Tony had designated for the main living spaces. It included a large living room, an outstandingly modern kitchen, and a cozy dining room. I had no doubt that Pepper had helped Tony with the decorating. Her sense of personality filled the space around us. I couldn't help but smile as I moved to join the others around the large mahogany table. Pepper's smile was bright and warm, just like it always was.

I took my normal seat next to Bruce, who'd become one of my closest friends. Back in the Russia, I'd never really had friends. The Red Room wasn't exactly the most appealing environment for fostering friendship. For all you knew, you could be battling your so-called friend the next day in a death match. In the profession of assassination, it was just easier not to form attachments. But S.H.I.E.L.D. was a little different, and in New York, I'd found some roots, or the closest thing an assassin could have to that. And I'd bonded with the entire team. Bruce and I bonded over troubled pasts and now, he would talk to me about science and I would help him run his experiments with gamma rays. Steve was an all-around sweet guy. We had many sparring matches in the gym, and I tried as often as I could to try and bring him up to speed with the modern world. Thor, though I didn't get to see him as much, was a very loyal and affection guy at heart, and we had a strong brother-sister type of relationship. I absolutely adored Pepper and admired her strength. After all she had to put up with Tony. Tony, what can I say, I'd even grow to care somewhat about the arrogant billionaire. Don't get me wrong: he was still a pain in my ass the majority of the time, but I knew that Stark had my back and as much as I couldn't belief it, I now had his too. And then there was Clint…me and Clint…well we were…us.

Bruce smiled at me before turning back to his conversation with Steve. I felt Clint sit down beside me. Tony, the ever observant genius he was, raised an eyebrow at us, immediately noticing something was off. He'd been leaned back in his chair, resting lazily like always, but now, after flickering his gaze in between me and Clint, he shifted forward in his chair, placing his hands on the table. "Well Spidey, it's nice enough for you and Legolas to finally join us. We were getting a little worried you two weren't coming down. Anything interesting going on up there?"

Everyone looked at Tony. Pepper lightly hit his arm. I couldn't help but notice a light blush creeping up on Steve's face at the hidden message apparent in Tony's statement. I turned my head slightly and raised an eyebrow at him. "Tony," I said, blinking a couple of times, "As much as I love you taking an interest in my life, I hate to disappoint you, but today has been just another normal day." I let sarcasm flow from my mouth easily, rolling my eyes after concluding my statement. He gave a nod and let the subject rest, but I could see it in his eyes that he hadn't given up his line of thinking. He knew something was up with me and Clint, and knowing Stark, he wasn't going to stop until he found out what. Shit… I thought. I'd have to find a way out of this.

I didn't look at Clint, but I knew he was as neutral as I was. No one should be able to tell a thing. No one could infer that we'd almost crossed a line, but somehow I knew that it was our neutral behavior that tipped everyone off that something was different. I held in a sigh as dinner was served, instead filling my mouth with a bite of food.

X.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.X

- Clint Barton

Dinner progressed normally, and after a few minutes, Natasha relaxed and become her normal self, which eased the slight underlying tension between us. Everyone else seemed to relax at that too. Natasha and I rarely fought, or at least fought in ways where it wasn't resolved in five minutes. And usually it was a very public fight in front of the rest of the team, never a private fight that we pretend didn't happen. And we didn't actually fight. We'd just…almost kissed. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but I knew it was.

I was itching to finish this group dinner where Nat and I could at least talk about what happened. That always fixed everything with us. It seemed to take twice as long as it usually did. Everyone was comfortable and joking with each other in their normal friendly matter. I joked around too, mostly with Tony, but it was mostly an act. I was incredibly nervous. I couldn't read Tasha. Usually, I was one of the few who could successfully read her, tell what she was feeling or thinking, but now, she'd locked me out of her head, kept her emotions in check better than I'd ever seen her before.

Finally dinner was over and the plates had been cleared. Everyone stood and moved towards the living room to hang out. I lingered behind, hoping Natasha would catch my drift. She started walking towards the living room, ignoring the fact that I was standing right behind her. "Natasha," I whispered, forcing her to stop. She turned around and looked at me with a guarded face. She waited for me to speak again. I didn't say anything. I just stared at her like I was dumbfounded, which I was. I didn't know what else to say.

"What?" Her eyes bugged out in irritation. I opened my mouth to say something, but I still hadn't found my words. We stared at each other for a long while. Eventually we heard Stark's voice from the living room.

"If you two don't join us soon, I'm gonna think something's going on between you two!" Natasha promptly turned and entered the living room with a death glare plastered on her face for Tony. I stood there a moment longer before following Nat's lead and entering the living room. Natasha had taken a seat next to Bruce and Steve and was staring off into space, ignoring whatever smartass remark Stark was making now. Pepper patted a space on a separate couch for me to join her, so I did. Pepper was always so inviting. It was one of the reasons she and Stark for perfect for each other. They were complete opposites. I shook my head, shaking off my thoughts and began to try and enjoy Tony's conversation. Then I realized it was Tony, and promptly tuned him out too. I tried to think of other things, but my thoughts always came back to her. I couldn't quite shake the image of spectacular green eyes when a cell phone ringing finally dissolved the shining specks of her irises. I blinked rapidly and looked around the room to find everyone's eyes on me.

"Oh," I said, realizing it was my phone ringing. I pulled it open. "Barton," I said with the best manner of professionalism I could manage. It was our handler.

"Barton, I need you and Romanoff to come in. Fury's got a mission for you." I looked to Nat and nodded. She stood wordlessly, knowing exactly what that meant.

"Where?" I was known for asking the needed questions. He told me the place and I tried my best to keep a calm expression, but I know it faltered slightly. Natasha immediately picked up on it and cocked her head to the side a little bit in wonderment. Still no words left her mouth, no expression crossed her features. She was just Natasha, the ex-Russian agent, the girl the Red Room trained to be emotionless, a task they'd succeeded in perfectly. She could turn her emotions off with the snap of the fingers. "Okay, we'll be there soon." I hung up, and having stood, began walking to the door. Natasha was in step with me without a sound as we headed for the elevator.

We didn't much on the way to our floor. Natasha asked basic details about the mission, but there wasn't much for me to tell her. I didn't know anything. He said he'd brief us when we got there. "Do you at least know where we're going?" It amazed me that Natasha and I could be mad or upset or even weird with each other, but the moment that we had a mission, she acted like nothing had ever happened. She was the perfect picture of professionalism, the ideal partner. But I knew my next answer would trip her up, especially considering the awkward moment that was sitting in between us like an elephant in the room. I couldn't help but look at her when I said it.

"Paris." Her eyes widened slightly in shock. I'd broken her emotionless façade just a little bit, which secretly made gave me an inner pleasure. I always enjoyed pushing her buttons and getting a reaction. I drove her crazy some times, and I knew I did. I couldn't help it though. I needed to know that she could still show emotion deep down somewhere, especially when it came to us. The last time we were in Paris was…complicated to say the least, but it seems everything always is with Nat and me, so I shouldn't have been surprised. I saw her squirming under my gaze.

"Paris?" She almost stuttered. I'd never known Natasha Romanoff to stutter, and that thought alone brought a smirk to my face.

"Paris." I raised my eyebrows at her and waited for her to say something else. I thought back to our last mission in Paris, and I couldn't help but smile. Natasha glared at me, as if guessing my exact thoughts. I shrugged at her. It happened, and eventually she was going to have to accept that. The elevator door opened and she stalked away towards her room where she stored her weapons. We kept bags pre-packed so that we didn't have to waste time when a mission presented itself. She grabbed her bag of guns and knives and her bag of clothes, while I grabbed the one stowing my bow and plenty of arrows and my clothes. Each with our bags slung over our shoulders, we exited the Tower and headed for S.H.I.E.L.D. in my car.

I noticed from the corner of my eyes that Natasha was fiddling with her hands. I smiled. "You know, if you keep fidgeting like that, and someone's gonna think you're nervous about going back to Paris. What, afraid you won't be able to trust yourself?" She glared daggers at me. Paris always made Natasha nervous, which is why she hated me bringing it up. We were the only two people who knew exactly what went on in Paris, and for Natasha, that was two people too many.

"Stop bringing it up Barton." She said coolly. I was really starting to get under her skin. I threw my free hand up in defeat as we pulled into the parking lot of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base in New York.

"Okay, fine, but just because we don't talk about it doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"Shut up Barton!" She managed through gritted teeth. I didn't bring up Paris anymore, instead choosing to live another day. We got out and walked to where our handler was waiting for us.

X.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.X

- Natasha Romanoff

I was tired of Clint bringing up Paris. He did it just to piss me off because he knew it bugged me. I walked ahead of Clint, ignoring him, instead giving our handler a somewhat warm smile. He'd never replace Phil Coulson, who had come to be a father figure in my life, the only one I could ever remember really. My heart still ached with his loss, and I knew Clint's did too, but that wasn't our new handler's fault. It was Loki's. Our new handler's name was Maurice Belmont, who was decently good at his job. There was nothing particularly spectacular about Maurice, nothing that warranted a long winded discussion of him. He was just Maurice, our handler. Neither Clint nor I had made any attempt to get closer to Belmont. It wasn't anything personal. We just still missed Phil. And the loss of Phil demonstrated the point that the Red Room had hammered into me so long ago: forming attachments was dangerous. People that you grow to care about become targets; they become weaknesses that make you an easy target. It never ends well.

Maurice handed me a file as I approached him. "Natasha," he said cordially, "as beautiful as always I see." I thanked him and kept walking towards Fury's office. I could hear Clint and Maurice behind me and the shuffling of paper as Clint already began flipping wildly through his folder. I stood in Fury's doorway, meeting his eyes when he promptly looked up at me. "Romanoff," he said, nodding towards an empty chair in front of his desk. Clint followed and plopped down in the chair next to me, shooting Fury a serious look. Maurice stood quietly behind us. "Barton," Fury acknowledged.

"Director Fury sir," he acknowledged back. Clint and I focused our attention halfway between Fury and the files as we flipped them open.

"Okay agents," he started, "this should be a pretty routine mission. I'm sure you two can handle it. Your target is arms dealer Fredrick Laclare." Laclare's picture was on the first page of the file along with the basic information about him including birthdate and hometown and details of the sort. I'd memorize those later. "He's in Paris for an auction, which involves him selling off his new products to the highest bidder. Bidders for the prize include some of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s and America's biggest enemies. We need you to get in, eliminate the target, get the weapons, and get out. Got it?" He glared at us. I looked at his gaze with unintimidated eyes. Fury still didn't scare me after all these years, and I was damn sure gonna make sure he knew that.

Fury was right about one thing. This did seem like a routine mission. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, I thought, as I scanned the folder. Clint didn't say anything either as he flipped through page upon page of information about Laclare. I closed my file promptly, "Got it." Clint looked up and nodded at Fury.

Fury had a small smile that only Fury could make. "Good. You leave now." I wasn't surprised by this. Neither was Clint. This was often Fury's tactic. We silently stood and followed Maurice as he led us towards S.H.I.E.L.D.'s personal air terminal. There was a plane on the runway waiting for us to board.

"This is where we part I'm afraid," Maurice said, setting a hand on my shoulder. I looked at him and nodded. "Be careful," he mumbled.

"Aren't we always?" Clint cheekily said. I shot him a look. Maurice turned to look at me.

"I'll keep him in line," I assured him. Maurice couldn't help but laugh.

"Good, someone has too. What an altruistic job you have!" He said.

"Hey!" Clint called, offended that we would talk about him like that right in front of his face. I shot him a look and turned back to Maurice.

"We'll be careful, I promise." I told him before grabbing Clint by the arm and pulling him behind me to the plane.

I took a seat towards the front of the plane after stuffing my bags in the overhead compartment. I had just started to relax when I felt Clint plop down in the seat right beside me. I let my eyes slowly and devilishly roll over to look at him. "Do you have to sit so close?"

He ignored my comment, a serious look embedded on his face. "Nat, we need to talk." Shit. He had me cornered on a plane. There was nowhere to run and no place for me to hide from the conversation I knew we had to have at some point. Why did it have to be now, when we were on our way to Paris? Paris of all places?!

X.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.X

- Clint Barton

I had finally found the words to talk about what happened. And as much as I knew Natasha wanted to dodge this conversation, she couldn't go anywhere. The plane had already taken off. We were suspended in the air and she couldn't get to the parachutes before me. So she was stuck. I'd entrapped the great Black Widow. I tried not to look smug at that thought, instead keeping my serious face for the conversation, because after all, it was a serious conversation.

"Talk about what Clint?" She sighed, pretending to not know what I was talking about. I really wasn't in the mood for her games right now. I needed direct answers from her and I was determined to get them.

"You know damn well what Natasha! Our 'almost-kiss'," I threw my hands around exasperated, "Stop acting like it didn't happen!"

"Is that what you're calling it?" I felt the sarcastic grin on her face. Then she let her eyes fall to the floor in the silence. "I never said it didn't happen," she quietly said. I felt bad for magnifying my tone now. I looked at her.

"So are we gonna talk about it?" I asked. I wasn't sure what to say beyond bringing up the subject of talking about it. I didn't know how to elaborate on the incident.

"What's there to talk about?" She asked. She sounded tired and looked weary.

"The fact that we almost kissed?" I looked at her shockingly. "Are you kidding me? Were you there tonight when everything went down? Or was that some other red-head that looked exactly like my partner?"

"There's no need to shout Clint."

"I'm sorry Nat, but you're acting like what happened didn't –"

"Almost happened," she quickly corrected, "And Clint, I'm not saying it didn't happen. Okay, I was there on the couch with you. I know what happened. But I think you're making too big of a deal about it. I mean it was just a moment. People have moments all the time." Her voice was calm and smooth as it rolled off of her cherry lips. It was hard to not be mesmerized by the movement of those lips.

"A moment?" I asked.

"Yes, a moment. We were caught up in the moment. I was in a vulnerable place because of the Loki thing, and you were in the middle of comforting me, and we just had a moment okay. It's not like we haven't had a moment before."

"Is that what you call Paris?" I could see her nostrils flare just slightly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it is!" She replied, angrily looking me up and down. "Now would you please just let it drop?" And that's when I saw it. Natasha liked to pretend she didn't feel, but she did. And I saw it in her eyes. And now that I knew it was there – albeit buried deep – I wasn't going to let her slide like that. I was gonna make her say it.

"No Natasha, because that's bullshit!"

"What is?" She looked taken aback. She didn't think I was gonna call her on her lies, but I was tired of being in this exact place with Natasha.

"Your whole 'moment' speech!" I yelled. "Because you know that's not true Natasha! You feel something!" She was flustered after that. I'd thrown her off her game.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't fucking lie to me or to yourself Nat! You feel something! You felt something in Paris! You felt something tonight when you almost let me kiss you! If you would just stop trying to fight whatever it is you're feeling and just go with it, it would make things a hell of a lot easier Nat." I was really close to her now. It was more apparent in her eyes than ever. Even though the rest of her face would never betray anything, the eyes always tripped people up. And right now, her eyes couldn't hide her feelings. Her façade was cracking. Even still, she pushed me away and turned around.

"You need sleep Barton. I think the deprivation is finally getting to you."

I sighed and decided to wave a white flag for the moment. "Okay, okay, whatever you say, but I'm not giving up Natasha. I'm gonna get you to admit you feel something if it's the last thing I do."

X.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.X

- Natasha Romanoff

Clint didn't move seats like I'd hoped he would. He stubbornly sat there and almost pouted. Slowly though he did drift off to sleep. Sleep wasn't an option for me. I was far too shaken up from our argument of sorts. I rubbed my face with my hands. That was entirely too close. I slammed my eyes closed. I remembered the proximity of Clint. He'd been so close, close enough to make me nervous, close enough to make me seriously think about breaking the rules. And that was what scared me. He'd been right in the car. Paris didn't exactly hold a good track record for us. The last time we'd been here had been…well there aren't even good enough words to describe it. And I was nervous that I wouldn't be able to trust myself. I knew I couldn't trust him in that regard.

I flipped open my file again and decided to reread the details of the case. I needed to start getting into character anyway. Clint did too. But I looked over at him and he looked so peaceful sleeping, his face and body utterly relaxed. I couldn't wake him up. I'd let him sleep just a little longer.

My alias was Lena Ampère, a 27-year-old writer originally from France. My parents had immigrated to the United States for my father's work. They still live there in a New York loft. While studying writing at NYU, I met my now-fiancé, Eric Hirst. I glanced over at Clint. Why did S.H.I.E.L.D. always put us in romantic situations? Couldn't we ever just be friends or siblings even? I thought about us though and inwardly laughed at the suggestion. Siblings would never look at each other the way Clint and I did. Fury wasn't an idiot, and he wouldn't waste the chemistry. Just because it wasn't actively acted on didn't mean it wasn't there.

What was I doing? Why did I always let my thoughts somehow loop around and come back to Clint and me, us? There was no us, technically. I sighed. I'd been able to resist my feelings for the longest time because I'd never been sure about his. But with the 'almost-kiss' as he referred to it, he'd laid his cards on the table for me to see. And I couldn't deny his feelings anymore. I'd known about them for a while now, but as long as he never vocalized them or made them known in some way, my knowing could just be chopped up to speculation. But not anymore. My eyelids began to feel heavier with the weight of the realization. I closed the folder and set it aside, finally letting my eyes slid shut. The blackness of my mind became fuzzy as I bordered on sleep. But I do remember the last thing I thought: if I can't deny his feelings anymore, how long can I still resist mine? Paris was going to be as problematic as last time.

Jinxcharm:

OHHHH they're going to Paris. I wonder what happened last time? Well guess what, you get to find out in the next chapter.

Chapter Ten: Paris