Author's note: Sorry for the wait, guys. I had no motivation to write at all and I had writer's block. That's my excuse. Also, I wrote this entirely in my iPod. If you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, PLEASE tell me.

Warning: Because I made the mistake of mentioning Clint taking care of Natasha when she gets horny, this chapter contains sexual material.

Later that Night...

Natasha swiped her SHIELD ID card and scanned her retinas and pushed the doors open when they unlocked.

Not many people were in the building, save for those who had the night shift and the security guards. She wasn't sure why she was here, exactly. Maybe there was something she could occupy herself with for a while, be it paperwork or just walking around.

She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for floor 3. The doors slid closed and she rode up the floors. Two beeps marked the arrival to the second floor, and three beeps marked the arrival to the third floor. The doors opened and she entered the main control room. Only half of the lights were on, and there was no one in the room, save for an intern who was asleep at their computer. Natasha smirked.

She made her way to the central monitor and tapped at the dark screen. It lit up, and she tapped the file labeled "Avengers Initiative" and then selected "Avengers Profiles." She scanned over the various files with each of their names on them, wondering which one she should look at first. She decided on Clint's, even though she already knew all of its contents and more. The file marked "Miscellaneous" looked appealing. Tapping it, she saw the file named "Hawkeye Initiative." Curious to see it's contents, she was about to tap it, but was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her. Turning, she saw that it was Phil Coulson holding a styrofoam cup of coffee.

"Hello, Agent Romanoff." he said casually.

"Hello, Agent Coulson."

"What brings you here so late at night? Thought you were enjoying a well deserved break."

"I should say the same to you. Why are you here so late?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"There seems to be a lot of that happening tonight."

"Why's that?"

"I was at a bakery a little while ago. The owners were still awake, too. Plus, I'm here for the same reason. I couldn't seem to get to sleep, so I figured I'd come here. Look for some busy work."

"Ah, I see," Phil said, "Want to accompany me to the Green Room? We could keep each other company." he offered.

"Sure, that'd be nice. I'd like to just sit down and relax for a while and just talk to someone."

XXXX

"Which bakery did you go to?" Phil asked Natasha.

"Two Little Red Hens. It's an adorable little bakery run by the two most adorable old ladies."

"I've never heard of them. Is their food good?"

"I actually don't know yet. I baked some cupcakes with them," she smirked, "We made a batch of red velvet chocolate cocnut cupcakes. I haven't tried mine yet; it's still in my purse."

"Care to share it with an old friend?" Phil winked.

Natasha smiled, "If you get us some napkins and a knife, I'd be happy to share with you."

Phil rolled his eyes dramatically, "What is it with you, making me do all the work? Jeez, woman." Phil said sarcastically as he rose from his seat on the Green Room couch, "I'll be right back, then."

Natasha smiled smugly and nodded. A moment later Phil returned, plastic knife and napkins in hand. He put the napkins on the coffee table and looked at her expectantly. She opened up her purse and took the plastic container out of it and set it next to the napkins.

"You ready for this, Agent Coulson? After all, I did make these. And I am an assassin."

"Natasha, I don't think you would intentionally kill me. By accident, yes. On purpose, no. Though, I've already cheated death once, and I'm sure I can do it again. But in answer to your question, yes, I'm ready. Are you ready?"

"I've been ready since I made it. Now shut up and hand me that knife."

Phil did as she said, and she opened the small plastic container.

The cupcake looked delicious. It was big enough to fit comfortably in Phil's hand. It was red velvet colored with chocolate icing and coconut flakes on top. It looked delicious.

Natasha cut it in half, placed one half on a napkin, and handed it to Phil. To his surprise, it was still warm, which made it even better.

Natasha still had a smile on her face, except now it was directed to the warm cupcake half she held in her hand. She took a bite of it, mesmerized.

It tasted like regular red velvet, but once she got past that, she tasted the peppermint. The chocolate icing added a nice flavor, and the slight taste of coconut topped it off perfectly.

"So how have you been?" Phil asked as he took a bite of the cupcake and having the same reaction to it as Natasha.

She groaned, "I've been having a shitty past few days."

Phil frowned, "Why's that?"

"Period." she said bluntly. Strangely enough, Phil didn't seem to react to her answer.

"Ah, I get it. Is that why you had trouble sleeping?"

Natasha nodded.

"That's rough. Cramps giving you a hard time?"

Natasha nodded again, "How did you know?"

"Why else would you be awake at this hour? You're obviously trying to distract yourself from the pain."

Natasha shrugged, "Yeah, but whatever. They'll go away at some point."

"That's an unexpectedly optimistic thing for you to say." Phil laughed, "This cupcake must have been made with sunshine and happiness."

"Oh yeah, obviously."

"So tell me about this Two Little Red Hens bakery." Phil said to her as he took another bite of his cupcake half.

"Well," Natasha shifted into a more comfortable position, "My guess to why it's called Two Little Red Hens is that it's because the two little old ladies who work there are twins. I saw an old photograph of a younger version of them in the shop with red hair, so I guessed that's why it's Red. I don't know why they chose hens, though. The women are named Marge and Myrtle. Marge has insomnia and her sister was staying up with her. Myrtle told me that Marge got insomnia thirty-some years ago when her husband died. She couldn't sleep without him," Natasha's eyes started to water, "So her sister let her move in with her," she sniffed, "And every night that Marge couldn't sleep, Myrtle stays awake with her. Every single night for thirty years," tears spilled over Natasha's reddening eyes, "And it's just so sad and touching and sweet and I want a sister who will do that for me but I don't because of the fucking Red Room and I'm an assassin and it makes my life so difficult and I hate it! I'm the only female Avenger, and I don't know anything about Pepper, so I never hang out with her and I don't want to do girl things by myself and I can't do them because I'm the only female and I won't do them because I'm not even like that! I hate girl things! I hate fluffy things and pink things and relationships and emotions and I hate shopping and I abso-fucking-lutely hate periods!" her voice raised a few octaves as she neared the end of her rant. She was crying now, blubbering like a baby. Phil handed her a tissue, and she accepted it graciously.

He shifted uncomfortably, as he didn't quite know how to react to this. He had never seen Natasha like this before, and it scared him. He didn't think the Black Widow was capable of crying because of overwhelming emotions, honestly. His mother had taught him how to treat a woman, and he had experience with women on their periods due to working alongside Maria Hill and many other female coworkers. He knew just what to do.

He pulled her into a hug, "Natasha, you are amazing just the way you are. You don't need to do girl things all the time, and for the times you do girl things, you don't always need a girl with you," he let go of her and looked into her eyes, "You don't need to feminize yourself just because you're a woman, and especially when you're even more of a woman once a month. Now wipe your tears; I can get you more tissues if you want any. You don't need to be afraid to ask me to do things for you, even if it's something as simple as that."

Natasha sniffled and burst into tears again, "Th-thank you, Phil. No one's ev-er told me th-at before."

Phil leaned over the small coffee table in front of the couch and grabbed the conveniently placed box of tissues. He pulled five out and handed them to her, taking the used tissue from her and tossing it in the small trash bin in the corner of the room, "I mean it. You deal with a lot of crap, and you're so strong. It's really impressive, actually."

"I-I have to deal with these da-mned cramps all the time. They hurt like hell and they won't go away!" she croaked.

"Are they really bad right now?"

"Yes," she frowned.

Phil thought for a moment, "Come with me. I know just what you need."

XXXX

"Phil, where are we going?" Natasha asked for the third time. He hadn't told her where exactly they were going or what they were doing, but she didn't have much of a choice. She could either go back to the tower and wallow in pain and misery, or she could stick it out a bit longer and see what Phil had in mind. They had left SHIELD and were heading to another place somewhere in New York.

"I already told you, we're going to get your cramps taken care of!"

She huffed, "How could we possibly do that? Are we going to see Miracle Max or something?"

Phil smirked, "Not quite. Thankfully you're dressed for it, though."

"Can you please tell me?"

"No. We're almost there, anyway."

She rolled her eyes and followed him down two more blocks until he stopped in front of a large building with rotating glass doors. Large glowing letters just next to the doors indicated that they were at Reebok's Sports Club.

"Why did you take me here?" she asked.

"Because what you need is here." Phil answered.

"Are we going to work out?"

"Not exactly. Come in, I'll show you."

"Is it open?" she asked, unsure.

"Oh, yeah. They open at five in the morning. It's currently five-oh-three. Come on, let's go inside."

XXXX

"Of course I've done yoga before. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Of course I do. Don't you trust me? I wouldn't ask you to do yoga if I didn't think it would help."

Natasha pondered on that for a moment, "I guess you're right... Besides, it'll be fun on this rooftop court."

The gym was equipped with swimming pools, activity-specific workout areas, weight lifting rooms, rooftop workout courts, and dozens of more things Natasha hadn't discovered on her trip up to the rooftop.

Phil walked over to a bin and opened it up, "Pick a color, red or yellow?"

"What for?"

"Yoga mats."

"Give me the red one. It'll blend in more if I bleed all over it."

Phil chuckled in a slightly awkward way and handed her the mat. They rolled open their mats and made themselves comfortable.

"Okay, we're going to begin with some deep breathing exercises."

XXXX

Natasha silently skipped into her room at 7:02 so as not to disturb the still sleeping Clint. Phil had been right; the yoga really did help get rid of her cramps. She was feeling great.

Pitting her purse back in it's place, she slipped off her clothes and pulled on one of Clint's shirts. Doing this, it came to her attention that the only time she ever wore someone else's clothing was when she was on her period. It made her feel safe, especially when it was Clint's clothes that she was wearing.

She swiftly climbed back into bed and snuggled up with Clint, who graciously accepted the newfound source of warmth, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

Natasha closed her eyes and lulled herself to sleep with the sound and movement of Clint's breathing.

When Natasha awoke, she immediately knew that Clint would enjoy what was coming. She hadn't woken up aroused in a long time.

She maneuvered her way onto her side to face Clint, pressing her body closer to his, wrapping one of her legs around one of his. Snaking her arm around his waist and back, she felt the firm muscles of his back that he had gained from many years of field training.

Clint's body shifted and he pulled Natasha as close to him as he possible could. Slowly, his eyes flittered open and they focused on the woman who was currently entwined with him. He smiled, "Morning."

"Morning." Natasha responded in a rather seductive tone.

"Didja sleep well?"

"Mmhmm." she looked up at him through her lashes.

"Mmm. Well that's always good." he said in a deep voice as he leaned down and places a kiss on her full lips, which she returned wholeheartedly.

The kiss deepened and Clint moved onto his back, Natasha perched on top of him. She framed his face with smaller kisses and moved her legs so she was straddling him. Their lips met again and Clint rubbed his hands up and down her back with his fingertips, a soft moan escaping Natasha.

She began rocking back and forth on his growing erection, easily causing a low groan to emit from deep inside of Clint. She sat up and ran a finger down the middle of his chest excruciatingly slowly, teasing Clint, who whined in protest.

She traced the waistline of his navy blue boxers, slipping the tip of her finger under it.

"Tasha... Are you able to... do this yet?" Clint said between groans.

Natasha leaned over him and put her lips to his ear, "Just because I can't, it doesn't mean that you can't."

The rest of her hand followed suit, and Clint moaned in pleasure as Natasha's hand escaped into his boxers.