Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Reviews motivate me to write more, so here's the next chapter! Also, there are spoilers for BBC Sherlock. If you haven't finished watching the series, I'll put a * at the spoilers section.

Important: If there's an Avengers fanfiction that you'd like to read that hasn't been written, feel free to send me a prompt and I'll write it! I'll write any Avengers ship. You can also send me prompts for drabbles. I can't write sexually explicit fanfictions, though. I'm far too awkward to write them, even though I've read a ton.

Day Two

Natasha woke to a stabbing pain in her lower abdomen, "Noooo," she whined. She glanced at the clock, which read 5:56, "Cliiiint," he rustled a bit in the bed next to her, "Cliiiint," she whined again, louder this time. Still no response. "Clint Barton, wake up, dammit!" she managed to kick him in the knee with her ankle.

"Ouch! What was that for?" he said groggily, immediately waking up. Natasha only whined in response, clutching her lower abdomen, "Ooh, it's th' cramps, isn't it?"

She managed an "Mmhmm" as she curled into a ball.

"Do you want me t'get you an Advil or somethin'?"

"Mm-mm." she buried her face in her pillow, shaking her head.

"Tylenol?"

"Mm-mm."

"Uh... Heating pad?" he was running out of ideas.

"Mm-mm."

"Well... What else can I do to ease the pain?" he asked her as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, burying his face in her hair.

"Mmm... That..." her voice was muffled by the pillow, but he heard her nonetheless.

Clint began rubbing her lower abdomen. He began with making a small circle with his fingers, eventually managing to move his hand back and forth as she shifted positions.

She was now lying on her back with her right leg bent and her left straight. She had her left arm draped over her chest, and her right at her side. Clint continued to massage her, making larger circles with his hand, and every so often he would make patterns on her skin with his fingers.

She snuggled up to him and eventually, her breathing deepened and her body relaxed, and he knew that she had fallen asleep. He continued massaging her for a few more minutes until his arm grew tired, and soon enough, he drifted off to sleep once again.

XXXX

The second time Natasha woke up, it was at the reasonable hour of nine o'clock. She opened her eyes slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light that was filling the room. Thankfully, the cramps she had been experiencing earlier weren't plaguing her at the moment. She tried to move out of the bed, but Clint's arm restrained her. Turning her head in his direction, she saw that he was, thankfully, still sleeping.

Very gently so that she wouldn't wake him up, she maneuvered her way out of his grip. He subconsciously tried to reach out to find the source of comforting heat she had provided him, and e settled for the pillow she had been resting her head on as she slept, holding it close. She silently dropped to the floor and crawled to her dresser.

There was no real reason for her to be silent; Clint slept like a rock. It was very difficult to wake him up.

She pulled open the bottom drawer of the dresser and searched though various articles of clothing before she found what she was looking for. She pulled out Clint's folded black knitted sweater and took off his black shirt she had been wearing the previous day. She pulled the sweater on over her head, an opened the top drawer of the dresser. She found two socks and put them on her feet.

Natasha sat there on the floor for a few moments until she heard her stomach growl. Sighing, she stood up and shuffled to the kitchen in search of something to eat.

We she arrived at the kitchen, she hadn't expected to see Bruce already awake and making breakfast.

"Morning," she mumbled.

Bruce looked up, not having expected to see her yet, "Oh, good morning, Natasha. Sleep well?"

She shrugged, "I guess. I woke up at 6 with horrendous cramps," she grimaced at the memory.

"Well I'm sorry to hear that," he paused, "I actually read up on... You know...," he gestured to her, "Last night, and the Internet said that fruit helps ease the pain of cramps. So I thought I would make you some fruit for breakfast."

Natasha smiled at him, "Thanks, Bruce. That's really sweet of you."

Bruce had half-expected her to lash out at him for mentioning her period, and was grateful that she hadn't. He didn't have a plan of action if she did. Pushing that thought aside, he picked up the plate of fruit and set it down in front of her.

Natasha contemplated which piece of fruit she would munch on first, and decided to go with a kiwi slice. Bruce picked up an orange slice and ate it.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the rare peace and quiet that touched Stark Tower that morning.

Breaking the silence, Bruce asked, "So what are you planning on doing today? Sitting around doing nothing, or do you think you might work out at SHIELD?"

Natasha thought about that for a moment, "I think I'm going to stay in today. Probably watch stuff on Netflix, which I haven't done in a long time. And yourself?"

"Tony and I are working on some experiments today. We want to try to see if we can control the Other Guy, get him to recognize people who aren't enemies," Natasha noticed that he was careful not to use the term friends, "Like what happened when we were fighting Loki some months ago."

"You know, I was actually wondering about that a few weeks ago. How were you able to do that, anyway?" she questioned as she bit into an apple slice.

"Honestly, I don't remember too well. I think it was the fact that in my own head, I knew that the Chitauri were the bad guys," he paused, thinking, "It could also be that I intentionally changed into him. Actually, I think that's how I did it. It must be; it's the only logical explanation."

Natasha smirked, "Well I'm glad I could be of assistance, Doctor Banner."

"Yeah, thank you, Agent Romanoff. What would I do without you?"

Natasha smiled smugly and bit into another apple slice.

XXXX

"Stark!" Natasha called out. When there was no response, she walked down to Tony's lab. Peering into the extensive room through the glass walls, she saw that he wasn't in there. She sighed.

"Is there something I can assist you with, Miss?" came JARVIS' electronic voice.

Other than Tony, Natasha was the only one who didn't feel like a complete fool when she spoke to JARVIS, "Yeah, there is. Is there a home theatre in this place?"

"Yes, Miss. It is located on the seventeenth floor."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure, Miss."

"Oh, and where's Barton?"

"Mister Barton is in his training room on the twentieth floor. Would you like me to tell him that you are looking for him?"

"That would be nice. Tell him to meet me in the home theatre ASAP."

"Of course, Miss."

XXXX

"Sir, Miss Romanoff wishes for you to meet her in the home theatre on floor seventeen."

XXXX *

"Tasha? You in here yet?" Clint called out as he opened the door.

"Over here," Clint moved in the general direction of her voice.

"A little light would be nice," he mumbled. JARVIS heard him and turned on some dim lights, 'That's so cool,' thought Clint. He saw the top of her red head poking out from the other side of one of the many couches that littered the room. She was searching for the remote, giving up after another few seconds.

"JARVIS, turn on the TV please." she huffed. The huge TV set came to life along with the many speakers and subwoofers, "And turn down the volume to five!" she added quickly, not wanting to burst her ear drums. Turning to Clint, "Come, sit." she patted the spot next to her on the couch.

Clint hopped over the back of the couch and landed next to her, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her to him. She giggled as she tried to break free, and even though she was more than capable of doing so, she didn't attempt to. He kept a firm grip on her, pulling her down with him as he moved to lay on his back.

"Clint, let go!" she said through giggles.

"Nnnno."

"Clint!" she began to squirm in his arms and maneuvered her way onto her stomach, still held in his grasp. As her giggles faded, she laid her head on his chest and took a deep breath, taking in his scent. He kissed the top of her head.

"Clint?"

"Hmm?"

"You smell nice."

"Thanks. It's aftershave." he smiled.

"That doesn't make it smell it any less nice."

"I should hope not. I take pride in my lack of facial hair."

Natasha made a breathy laugh.

They laid like that until Natasha wiggled her way out of his hold and picked up the touch-screen remote that controlled the TV. She typed " " into the search bar and tapped enter. The screen immediately changed to the familiar website with the red background. She tapped the search bar and typed in "Sherlock."

"Sherlock? Is that like Sherlock Holmes?" asked Clint.

Natasha responded with a nod, "It's the BBC version with Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman."

"Is he related to Morgan Freeman?"

Natasha only glared at him.

"It was an honest question…" Clint muttered.

Natasha ignored him and pressed play, "I heard someone talking about this show when I was out with Steve yesterday. It seemed interesting. Apparently the director-writer guy is making the fandom go crazy right now. So I decided to watch it."

"Makes… sense."

They sat patiently as it loaded, and were startled when they were immediately shown gunfire.

"This is intense already." Clint commented.

"Poor guy."

"Can he not walk or something?"

"Shh, you'll figure it out."

"Oh, he walks with a cane," there was a pause, "He didn't use a coaster."

"Shut up, Clint!"

"…His cane looks like a hammer – Ouch!" Natasha had punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

"I said shut up, assbutt!"

"Assbutt? Really?"

"Shh."

Clint mumbled something under his breath.

"How will a blog help him get over his trauma?" Natasha asked this time.

"Shh, you'll figure it out." He mocked. Natasha punched him again.

XXXX

"JARVIS, tell someone to get me some chocolate."

"Yes, Miss. Who would you like me to tell?"

"I don't care. Just tell someone in this house. I need it now."

There was a short pause, then, "Yes, Miss."

XXXX

"Sir, Miss Romanoff is requesting chocolate."

"And why are you telling me this, JARVIS?" Tony asked him, "Can't you see that I'm currently preoccupied?"

"Sir, I'm afraid that she is being very adamant about this."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"I can get her some, if you don't want to leave your work," Bruce offered.

Bruce and Tony were creating research regarding the Hulk. Bruce was currently hooked up to various machines that were tracking his blood pressure and brain activity.

"Nah, that's fine. I'll get the Queen her chocolate." He huffed and got up from his seat in front of his many computer screens, "Don't… move." He told Bruce.

"As if I can," he laughed.

"Wish me luck, Doctor. I'm heading to the battlefield." Tony saluted him and walked out before he could get a response.

Tony stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, "Why does this building have so many floors?" he asked himself as the door opened.

"JARVIS, where's the chocolate?"

"In the cabinet above the sink, sir."

"Why is it in the cabinet? Shouldn't it be in the closet?"

"I'm not sure, sir. Mister Rogers stored it there. I would advise asking him about that."

Tony opened up the cabinet door and was shocked to see the vast amount of chocolate that was stuffed into the small space.

"Did she really need to buy all of this chocolate?"

XXXX

"JARVIS, is anyone getting me my chocolate?" Natasha demanded.

"Yes, Miss. Mister Stark is gathering it for you as we speak."

As soon as he said this, Tony walked into the room, his arms filled with bags and boxes of chocolate.

"I didn't know which one you wanted, so I brought them all."

Natasha was torn between wondering if Stark was being sarcastic and not caring because she finally had her chocolate, "Put it on the table."

Tony made his way around the couch and dropped the packages of chocolate on the coffee table, "You know, you could have gotten this stuff by yourself. Or had Clint do it."

"Do you even see Clint anywhere around here?"

"No, but why make me do the dirty work?"

"I'd hardly call it dirty work, Stark. And I'm too comfortable to get up and get it." Natasha was curled up in the middle of what appeared to be a bird's nest made of pillows and blankets.

"Did Bird Man make that for you?" Tony asked, indicating the nest.

"Yeah. He's good at making nests."

"Obviously. Anyway, am I done here?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, "Yeah. Get out of my face now, Stark."

"Touchy, touchy." Tony mocked being hurt. Natasha ignored him, turning her attention back to the television.

XXXX

Author's Note: I'm having writers block. What should happen next?