A/N- For those of you hoping for a longer chapter, I'm sorry to disappoint. But this scene ended where it ended and there wasn't a whole lot I could do about it. Cause everybody dies... I mean...

Ch. 16

Clint, I'm staying with Dr. Z.

He repeated her words in his head, making sure that they meant what he thought they meant. Staying? As the truth sank in, Clint stepped back, breaking their physical contact and turning away from Natasha. He could feel her eyes follow him in the mirror, but she stayed where she was. He knew he should talk her out of it. Except that it was insane, so there was nothing to talk about. Plus, no one could talk Nat out of anything if she had made up her mind. But who agreed to this plan in the first place; Rogers? Super strength or not, Clint promised to kick his ass when this was all over.

Normally, Clint would punch a wall to blow off some steam, but that would get them killed. He couldn't yell, couldn't swear- this wasn't anything like their usual arguments. When walking a few circles around the bathroom only made him more frustrated, Clint gave in. There was no logic that he could see- she would just have to explain it to him.

Then he would talk her out of it.

He moved back to where Natasha was leaning against the sink, facing him with a searching look in her eyes. Taking another step, Clint pressed forward until she was effectively trapped with his arms resting on the marble on either side of her body. It reminded him of their kiss on the ship in a bittersweet way; a moment he regretted immensely but wouldn't take back for the world.

"Why?" He whispered, leaning his cheek against hers. He didn't want her to see the emotions reflected in his eyes. The fear, the doubt.

"I don't want to stay. There's nothing I want more than to get as far away from Dr. Sociopath as possible. But this is our only shot at taking that bastard down. Think about it- he's going to lead me straight into the Black Widow headquarters. We won't ever get this chance again. Do you understand why I have to do this?"

Natasha ran her hand over the nape of his neck and down to his shoulder. She didn't mean to tell him in such a blunt, cold way, but their time was limited. Steve and Fury agreed that it was worth the risk, if she was volunteering. Maybe she should have talked to Clint about it first, but it wouldn't have changed anything. She was a spy, after all. This was her job. It was just easier to do her job when her body wasn't flush against his bare chest, with his breath sweeping lightly over her neck. It was easier if she didn't think about what exactly she was going to lose if this didn't go well.

In a moment of weakness, Natasha gave in to the possibility of changing her mind. She wanted to leave now, run away with Clint and create a life that included true happiness. She wanted to shoot Dr. Z between the eyes and go live in a house with a white picket fence and bake or something. But everyone wanted things they couldn't have and dwelling on it only made life harder. Natasha knew that shooting Dr. Z would give her temporary satisfaction- a lot of temporary satisfaction- but the knowledge that the program would go on, taking and training young girls to fight and kill, would eat away at her. No one should go through that. Natasha was willing to die to make sure it never happened again.

Clint sighed, saying "Hell, Nat, of course I understand. I just want to find a better way to do it. One that doesn't involve letting you out of my sight. I didn't exactly bring an armory with me- it would be a little too much weight to jump the train. If things go sideways, our chances of fighting our way out of some Russian facility aren't great. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Clint pulled back to see if there was any chance Natasha was wavering, but her eyes were as steady as ever. This was her ultimate fight- something she had wanted to do for years but had never had an opportunity. He wasn't going to talk her out of it. But he could see that there was something else, something she didn't want him to know. More good news, probably.

"Just tell me, Nat. I need to know we're on the same page here."

"There are... risks... you should take into account. I'll need you to get to me somewhere between arriving at the facility and going to the lower levels. The security down there is too much for a single infiltrator and once I'm in- well you'll just have to rescue me before that." Natasha turned her head away, not used to losing her nerve. Clint didn't need to know the details. It would only distract him from the mission; make him emotional and cloud his sharp eye. She was pulled from her thoughts by Clint's hand cradling her cheek and turning her back to face him.

"Hey- we're still Hawkeye and Black Widow. You don't have to share all your secrets with me just because things are changing between us. Just tell me what I need to accomplish this mission, okay?" Natasha nodded, wondering if there was a single human being on the planet who knew her as well as Clint did. They were broken, each in their own way, but her sharp edges fit well against his. Her pain, his heart. She supposed that was how love worked, if you believed in that sort of thing.

"There is a delay between arrival and admittance. Even for Dr. Z- they verify everyone's identity before opening up. As long as you can transmit our location to SHIELD, we don't even need to get inside. I've built up a tolerance for most sedatives, so I shouldn't be totally out of it, but I'll get you descriptions of the most experienced guards just in case I'm not at my best. We just need to get out in one piece so that Rogers and his team can do their thing. I probably don't need to tell you this, but I get to kill the good doctor."

"Fine," Clint muttered, "But you'd better let me shoot him once. I'd hate for him to die without repaying the favor." That put a smile on both their faces; nothing like the promise of violence to restore a good mood in a room full of assassins.

Natasha turned off the blow dryer and took a second to gather her thoughts. She would have to be extremely careful not to show Dr. Z any change in her demeanor. She was supposed to be coming to terms with losing Clint for good; instead she was spending the night with him before overthrowing the Russian agency that created so much torment in her life. It would be a challenge, but the Black Widow loved to rise to the occasion. Just having a plan put her in a better mood. So when she pushed Clint back against the wall to whisper in his ear the smile was back on her lips and her hand was back on his belt buckle.

"I'm going to go set up an alibi. I'll be back with something to help that bullet wound and maybe a little food. My guards will follow me when I leave, so take the opportunity to prep the room in case you need to hide tonight during the security sweep. And Clint? Just because we can't have sex doesn't mean I plan on spending the whole night playing cards or knitting like a good girl. See you soon." As Natasha turned and left the bathroom, then the bed room, Clint stayed exactly where he was, trying to remember how to breathe.

I have a thing for belt buckles. Apparently. Can someone give me an idea of what is acceptable under a T rating for my budding BlackHawke romance? I'd hate to break the rules too badly, since this is my one and only story.

Oh, and thank you for all your reviews! They really do make me laugh, and I go back and read them again when I'm getting stuck with the story. If I didn't love my job so much I would quit and write ALL THE TIME!