Hello, whoever is still here! I sincerely apologize for the amount of time it took to get this chapter up. I got back from St. Louis and I had some writer's block and then I had to do back to school stuff... and I was lazy. I'll admit it, my laziness added to the lateness of this chapter. I'm very sorry. Please forgive me. Anyway, here's the chapter.

Natasha sat on the couch in the apartment silently. She had been sitting like that for at least the past hour when Clint had sat down to watch TV. They sat in a comfortable silence until Clint finally decided to find out what was on Natasha's mind. He cut right to the chase.

"Tasha, what's on your mind? You've been sitting still for at least an hour. You're not sleeping because your breathing pattern changes when you sleep, so you must be awake, which means you're thinking. What's going on in there?"

Natasha finally sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Just... sifting through memories," she answered cautiously.

"Care to enlighten me?" Clint asked.

"No," Natasha lied immediately.

The sniper's eyebrows raised. "Really? Because the tense look on your face and your body language tells me that you want to say something important."

Natasha huffed at his correct deduction. "Cocky American," she muttered. Clint didn't take the bait, he was used to her wounding his pride.

"You're holding it in, Natasha. Don't."

The redheaded Russian fidgeted with her hands uncomfortably, making Clint do a double take. Natasha Romanoff was calm, cool and collected. She never fidgeted. "I... Well..."

"I don't believe it," Clint said. "The Black Widow is at a loss for words."

Natasha glared at him. "Shut up," she deadpanned.

Her partner put his hands up in mock surrender. "Whatever, just say what you want to say."

She huffed again. "Well... I guess I just..." Natasha trailed off once more after realizing she had no idea how to say what she was feeling. A frustrated sound came out of her mouth, and she punched the pillow sitting next to her.

"Uh, would showing me what you feel be easier?" Clint suggested.

"No!" she snapped.

He tried again. "You've always been better at-"

"I'll manage!" Natasha insisted. She closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath, Clint waiting patiently to hear what she wanted to say. "It's just... I mean... I've never had any... good relationships with... men," she began. Clint nodded intently. "I, uh, didn't ever have the chance to... grow up, or be a teenager. I was used and thrown away and I never knew how it felt to... enjoy being with people."

She looked up at her partner, expecting to see judgement or fear in his eyes. Yet she was still surprised that the only thing in his eyes was acceptance. even though thats all he showed her when she opened up.

Natasha took another deep breath and continued. "And, well, um, since you brought me to SHIELD, I realized that not everyone is all bad, and that... some people are actually mostly good. And... they might even be... likable."

The corners of Clint's mouth perked up a little. "Tasha, are you saying...?"

"Maybe," she replied somewhat cryptically.

Clint threw his head back and laughed. He had been waiting, hoping, praying for this to come for so long that he wasn't sure if it would ever happen. Natasha was finally letting things out! Not holding them in!

She narrowed her deadly green eyes. Was he laughing at her? She just came as close as she ever would to talking about her feelings and he was laughing at her?

Natasha raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Clint when he finally opened his eyes. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye dramatically as he settled down and cleared his throat.

"I'm not laughing at you, Tasha. I'm laughing out of sheer happiness."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

Clint returned his face to it's usual serious masquerade. "Natasha Romanoff, are you saying that you like me?"

"Yes," she replied simply after a short pause.
The biggest smile Natasha had ever seen on him graced Clint's face. He drew her into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his face against her neck. He held her tightly for a few minutes before responding.

"I like you too, Tasha. I like you a lot."

Natasha smiled into his chest before snaking her arms around his muscular frame and embracing him back. They stood there, allowing themselves to be held without worrying about playing a character or having a gun held to their heads. No guns, no knives, no arrows, no blood, no running, no red, no nightmares. No Black Widow or Hawkeye, no sniping or seducing.

Just Clint and Natasha.

Soooo... we're getting to the end of the song. This was "You're holing it in, you're pouring a drink, no nothing is as bad as it seems we'll come clean." Or at least my weird interpretation of it. Anyways, the song is almost over. There will probably only be one, maybe two more chapters:(