Another week passed. The blue cube was still blue and blinking. There had been no sign of any more 'visitors' and Barton had run and re-run background checks on all the people with access to the cube. Other than a few people's questionable taste in late night internet browsing, they were all clean. Clint passed the time in the gym and on the range, but nothing took his mind off of HER for very long.

This evening, after a particularly long workout, he was lying on his bed-staring at the ceiling, feeling more than a bit lonely. Clint missed Natasha and wanted to so bad to just call her because. But for some reason that was out of the question for the two of them and Clint was really pissed as to why. Is not that he considered himself a big talker about feelings and stuff. One of the reasons he and Tasha worked so well together-in every way- was that they didn't have to talk about feelings. They always just DID. They instinctively knew how to fight as a team – her up close and him from a distance. They knew how to conduct surveillance- they could watch someone or something for hours and never exchange a word. And they could fight each other too- Clint's favorite part. They could spar for hours without really hurting each other physically, unless one of them was trying to prove a point, of course. But even then, it was never a hard blow – just a "told you so" kind of hit. And then when things just kind of naturally went to the next level, they'd never discussed it. Each knew the other was happy about it and that was enough. Even after Budapest when he told her he loved her, really truly loved her, so many things still went unsaid. He thought they'd have time after Budapest to talk about it. But then everything at SHIELD seemed to change in an instant. Promotion my ass was all he could think when Coulson had called the next day to say that Nat was to join Fury's senior staff and he and Coulson were being sent all over the world tracking down all kinds of god knows what shit. Clint appreciated Fury's pulling of some miracle with the Pentagon- giving Clint back his Army officer's status and a promotion to Captain at that. But what really bothered him was that it felt like he and Natasha were being separated on purpose. Clint had never cared what anybody thought about him and Nat. Rumors had abounded since the day he'd brought her in, and Clint did nothing to quell them. Phil was ok with it. Fury had no choice but to be ok with it and everyone else could just mind their own damn business. So why? Why had Fury broken them up? And when would he ever get a chance to spend more than a few hours at a time with Natasha?

Clint startled when he saw his phone glowing. He slipped his aids back in… the screen just said UNKOWN where the caller ID number should have been…

"Barton here." He said.

"Hi, it's me." Natasha said, trying to sound happy – even though she was miserable..

"Tasha? What's up?" how could she have known he was thinking about her?

"I, uh, I just thought I'd call and say Hi." Why can't you be here with me? -was what she really wanted to say.

"Ok, Hi," he said back playfully.

Her silence indicated she didn't appreciate his teasing.

"I miss you Tasha." He said, hoping he didn't sound too pathetic.

"I miss you too Clint."

"You on the boat?"

"Yes, training maneuvers over the arctic right now."

"Sounds cold. Wish I was there to keep you warm."

"Me too."

Clint was shaking from how sexy her voice sounded.

"Clint, I -I "her voice trailed off as Clint heard another ringing in the background followed by a few choice words in Russian…"I swear that MAN has me bugged! She hissed. "I have to say goodbye Hot Shot. I love you." She managed to get out before the line went dead.

Clint grabbed his forehead in shock. Natasha had just said 'I love you.' It was the first time he had heard her say the words since Budapest. Natasha was finally able to say "I love you" and she was on a fucking flying aircraft carrier over the artic and he was 1000 feet down in the ground in the middle of fucking New Mexico! Why? Why? Why? Clint grabbed his gear and stalked back down to the range.

It was midnight by the time he had exhausted his supply of incendiary arrows. He was walking back out of the locker room when his phone rang again. It was Phil.

"It's fucking midnight Phil, what do you want?" Clint snapped into the phone.

"Done blowing stuff up for the night?"

"I could go a few more hours. What do you want?"

"Need you to go to India."

"What's in India? Glowing red rocks like in Indiana Jones?"

Phil wondered what in the world had crawled up Clint's ass "No, it's a who, and the glow is more of a green…"

Fucking fabulous, thought Clint.