Hello everyone. Apologies for what happened with this chapter last time I posted it. I type mostly on my phone so sometimes the copy/paste doesn't work very well. Have yet to figure out why. Anyway, here is the chapter fully un-garbled and as it was intended.

She had just finished arranging her desk and stood back to admire it (she hadn't really had her own room before and liked that she had a space that was personal) when Clint called her and told her that dinner was ready.

"Chicken pot pie with fresh vegetables," he said as he set a plate in front of her.

"Thanks. For everything."

"Hey. No problem." The two happily ate dinner asking questions and chatting when Clint thought to ask, "Have you thought of a name yet?"

"No," she responded thoughtfully. I kind of want to stick to something close to Natalia but I can't think of anything."

"Natalie? Nadine?" He started listing names he could think of to no avail. His new friend simply wrinkled her nose at every one. "Well we'll think of something. Anyway, I asked about the name; it's your turn to ask something."

Wanting to avoid topics as touchy as family, she asked, "what do you like to do in your free time?"

Clint set about clearing the dishes while he answered. "I love reading. I get lost in a novel, fall into the lives of the characters, get caught up in their drama. I love that feeling and I always know that I can go back to a book and fall in love with it all over again anytime I want. I have one book that always makes me feel better. Read it thirteen times." He stacked the dishes and sat back down. "Naomi? Nicole? Natasha? Oh that's rather nice. Hmm. Anyway. I'll let you have first shower tonight."

The assassin nodded, lost in thought. She didn't speak again until she was out of the shower. "Damnit!" She cursed loudly. She had wrapped herself in her towel and walked to her bedroom when Clint heard her.

"You ok?" Clint asked through her door.

"I forgot to get pajamas. I have nothing to wear tonight."

"Oh. Here. Hang on." She could hear his footsteps retreat and return quickly. He knocked lightly and opened the door just enough to fit his arm through. "You can wear one of my shirts tonight and we can get you your own tomorrow."

She accepted the shirt gratefully and pulled it over her head. It was a gray t shirt with a band logo she didn't recognize across the front. It looked well worn but it was soft and comfortable and long enough that everything was covered. She opened her door and stepped into the hall towards the bathroom to hang her towel, only to find Clint in front of the counter struggling to redo the bandage on his wound.

"Here, let me," Natalia gently pushed him down to sit so she could reach his shoulder better. She deftly applied the ointment and gauze and sealed it with medical tape.

"So tell me something about you that no one knows." Clint said after she finished. The two shared the mirror as the finished their nightly routines. Natalia paused briefly, considering her response.

"I am afraid of spiders." She said matter-of-factly. The look of shock on Clint's face that the Black Widow, the world's deadliest woman, named after the spider for that reason, was afraid of spiders caused her to laugh. "Your turn." She added.

"I dreamt of being a baseball player when I was little." She laughed lightly again the two headed out of the bathroom toward their respective rooms.

"Good night Clint." She said quietly.

"Good night-"

"Natasha." She added for him.

"Good night Natasha."

The two continued in that manner getting to know each other for the next week as Barton continued to heal. With Natasha's help he would be as good as new faster than if he tried to bandage it himself. Natasha was fully settling in to her life in the U.S. and although she had purchased pajamas of her own she continued to wear Clint's shirt.

"Hey. I'll have to go back to S.H.I.E.L.D. soon. Do you think you'll be ready to go to work?" Clint suspected she was burying some trauma but she didn't show it. "I have heard rumors of what the Red Room does to and with its assassins."

"I'll be fine." Natasha said without missing a beat. Clint didn't believe it but said nothing.

"Speaking of work," Clint said as his phone rang. "Agent Barton. Healing fine, sir. Yes. Any day now. Today? Yes, sir. Er- well, you see, that's- yes, sir. I'll see you then." He hung up the call and turned to Natasha. "Guess I'll be going back sooner than I thought. I'm meeting Director Fury in an hour. Which means you're meeting fury in an hour. Suit up."

"Director Fury." Barton greeted, stepping through the door. Natasha was right behind him walking quickly and taking in her surroundings. Fury was digging through a filing cabinet and hadn't seen her.

"Agent Barton. You ready to get back out there? You're the best we've got and we can't have anyone less going after the Black Widow."

Natasha hid her laughter and Barton tried to hide the smirk on his face. "Actually, sir, I won't be going on another mission against her."

"Excuse me? What do you-" he spun around and took in the sight of the Russian standing just behind his agent. "Holy shit, Barton. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking she will make a great agent. She already has the necessary skills and-"

"I don't give a damn about necessary skills, Barton. I care about the fact that you brought one of our deadliest enemies into our headquarters. She works for the Red Room!"

"Worked." Natasha said quietly.

Fury swung his gaze to her and spat out a venomous, "what?"

"You said works. Present tense. I worked. Past tense. I no longer have any allegiance to them."

"Do I look like I care about grammar?" He questioned. "How am I supposed to trust you after what you've done?"

"Do you trust me, sir?" Barton interceded before Natasha could respond. "Just give me some time and you'll see. She'll be as good an agent as I am. Please, sir. You gave me a chance. Give her one, too."

Fury just stared at the two for a long time. "Fine. Leave before I make the rational decision and give orders to have you both terminated."

The two hurried back down the hall, still littered with staff and agents frozen from the initial shock of seeing the Black Widow in their office. Barton was trembling imperceptibly from both terror and elation, unsure which would take precedence. "Want to get lunch?" He asked with forced calm.

"Yeah!" She responded, all but skipping down the hall. Suddenly, seeing her act more like her actual age, Clint realized again how young she was and how mature she looked in the director's office. He wondered if that's what people thought of him.