So, originally "Therapy" was going to be a one-shot, but people (you guys are awesome by the way) wanted me to do another chapter. (Oh, and anyone who is reading this is awesome because no one ever reads my stories.) This chapter is a prequel to the other one and it is kind of to explain why the end of the other one was funny, because some people didn't get it. Which is fine, 'cause I'm not the greatest author anyway.

There were only few times when Natasha was without Clint, and most of those times were during missions. But since he had been occupied with the therapists Fury was forcing him to see, she found herself wandering about. It was on one of these days that she ran into a familiar face. A young brunette lady, who was somewhat on the short side, named Sarah Jameson. Natasha saw Sarah blink in realization before rushing up, slinging her arm around her shoulder and saying, "Natasha, it's been a long time!"
"Yes, it has." She replied calmly, slipping Sarah's arm off of her.

"I remember when I first met you," she said happily.

"Please, I was there, you don't have to narrate-"
"It was in the afternoon and Fury had called me away from my sister's wedding-her marriage didn't last long anyways-and I was sent into a room where you were sitting in a chair looking dejected. Apparently they wanted to make sure it was okay to have you, master assassin, The Black Widow, work for SHEILD. So I asked you about your life, and you weren't very truthful. But you did tell me some stories of blood and-"

"Sarah." Natasha interrupted, "I was there. I remember."

"Of course, of course," she replied, not missing a beat, "Care to sit down? I was about to eat."

Natasha looked up and down the hall, "Where would you sit down?"

"My room," she replied cheerfully, "I just finished changing it."
"You know you're not supposed to do anything to your room, especially since it's just a temporary room."

Sarah ignored her, and began walking down the halls, soon followed by Natasha.

When Natasha walked into her room, she felt like she'd been slapped in the face. The walls were painted a bright orange, which seemed to have no effect on Sarah. She sat down on her bed, and then patted the space beside her, where Natasha sat down moments later. Sarah reached under her bed and pulled out a metal lunchbox, from which she pulled a sandwich. Chomping down, she asked through a mouthful of food, "So, what's going on?"

Natasha sighed, "Well, Clint's been occupied with going to all his therapy sessions."

Sarah nodded, "Yeah, I heard he's been giving the therapists a hard time. That's why I came here, but it looks like Fury's just going to give up."

Natasha stared down at her hands and hesitantly asked, "Do you think you could get a hold of the records of his therapy sessions?"
Licking the last bits of sandwich off her fingers, she frowned and replied, "I could, but I don't think there'd be much on them. Why?"
She rolled back her shoulders and as casually as she could, she said, "I want to make sure he still doesn't feel guilty about attacking me."

Sarah turned to face her, with her eyes wide, and she let out a squee before saying in a high pitched happy (and scary) fangirl voice, "I knew it! You LOVE him!"
Natasha glared at her, "When did I say that? I'm only concerned for him."
"Concern, yeah, okay." She replied, unconvinced.

"You know, I think you're just as insane as those criminals you are a therapist for."
"Quite possibly." Sarah replied, "Now, if this is going to work, you need to tell Clint he has another therapist appointment, and then I'll talk to him and find out if he's in love with you."

"Yes, thank you. No, wait! That's not what I asked!"

"Sure," she replied rolling her eyes, and then said quietly to herself, "Darned spies, always so secretive."

It's raining. I don't like it. So, that was the prequel thing and if you guys want me to, I could do a third afterward part….and maybe organize these properly! HAHAHA yeah, right. So thanks for reading! CLINTASHA FOREVER! DEATH TO MOCKINGBIRD! Hehehe, I don't like her. But, if you're reading this, you probably either don't know her or don't like her.