The tap on the door to her room in S.H.I.E.L.D. had not been unexpected or unwelcome. Before every mission, if he was in H.Q., Clint would stroll by and delight in getting in Natasha's way as she packed her minimal belongings and cleaned her weapons. It had become one of their rituals.
'Don't you have anything better to do?' She'd sighed good-naturedly only to be surprised as Agent Foster's worried face appeared around the door.
'Am I disturbing you?' The blonde stuttered, she seemed unwilling to venture further in to the Widow's private domain.
'What can I do for you Agent Foster?' Natasha smiled but her tone could have frozen the sun.
'I... I wondered if we could have a little chat... woman to woman.'
Natasha raised the pistol she had been cleaning and looked down the barrel, making the young agent even more uncomfortable. 'Is it regarding the mission?' The Widow asked, 'It should be very straight forward and Barton is an excellent agent.'
The two handlers had been working in tandem during briefings and preparations, however on the ground; Foster would be assisting Hawkeye whilst Natasha would be working with Coulson.
'No... No... I am sure Cli...' she stopped herself, seeing the raised eyebrow on the assassin's face, 'I mean Agent Barton... I am sure he will take very good care of me.'
'The brief is simple, I am sure you will be back in your cosy office where you belong in no time.' If Foster understood the jibe, she showed no sign.
'No... It was about Agent Barton actually...' The girl looked up nervously.
'What about him?' Natasha asked sharply.
'Well, it's a little delicate...' Foster wrung her hands, she took a shuffling step forwards.
'I assure you there is absolutely nothing delicate about Agent Barton.' Natasha snorted as she folded her arms across her chest and waited for the girl to spit it out. Her stance did nothing to put Foster more at ease, nor was it designed to.
'It's just... well I wondered if... you see...'
Natasha coughed pointedly.
'You and Agent Barton are close and I wondered if you knew if he was involved with anyone?' Foster gabbled quickly. She glanced up to see the Black Widow's reaction.
The inference was clear. This insect was asking Natasha if Clint was hers. The temptation was to say yes, claim him, and put a stop to the handler's silly ideas once and for all.
'Agent Barton and I are partners.' Natasha snapped.
'Yes I know, but are you in love?' The desire for information had made Foster bold.
'Love is for children.' Natasha said coolly.
Encouraged, Hannah continued to gabble. 'It's just that... we'll obviously you are really beautiful and some people seem to think that you and Agent Barton are together and some people say that 'oh no, The Black Widow would never get involved with another agent' but you see I really like Agent Barton and I don't know whether he likes me or not I mean I think he probably does but...'
'Stop talking!' Natasha snapped holding up her hand. 'I don't see as my relationship with Agent Barton is any of your business.' Before the other woman could reply she continued. 'And your interest or romantic intentions towards him are none of mine. Now we have a job to do. I would suggest you get on with it because if you are unable to concentrate on the task in hand without indulging in adolescent fantasy Agents could die, Agent's like Barton.'
Opening and closing her mouth, the tears welled up in Foster's blue eyes.
'Don't just stand there in the doorway blubbing.' Natasha added as the girl still a. Foster moved to take a step into the room, clearly expecting some kind of comfort. Natasha stopped her with a look.
'I meant go and indulge your inappropriate emotions somewhere else.' She snapped waving a hand dismissively towards the door.
Running down the corridor with tears streaming down her face Agent Foster almost ran directly into Clint Barton as he made his way to the Black Widow's room.
'Agent Foster? What's the matter?' He asked in concern. His hands rested upon her shoulders where he had steadied her. Unable to speak, the girl simply sobbed.
'Did something happen, has someone hurt you?' Tearful women were not an area Hawkeye excelled in, so in the current situation he was at something of a loss.
Hannah shook her head; she merely looked back along the corridor towards his partner's door just as the Russian kicked it shut. Renewed sobs wracked her shoulders. It was obvious the girl had a run in with Natasha.
'You don't want to take any notice of Agent Romanoff...' He said kindly, before adding as an afterthought, 'unless she threatened to kill you... if she threatened to kill you, you might want to take some notice.'
Eyes wide with horror at the idea, Hannah shook her head.
'Then you probably don't have very much to worry about... probably...' Even to Clint's own ears he didn't sound very sure.
'I... I... only...' Foster stammered.
Placing a friendly arm around her shoulder, Clint steered her down the corridor and away from his partner's room. 'Agent Romanoff doesn't really like to be disturbed before a mission.' He said gently, feeling the need to redress any offence caused by his partner, especially as he felt at least partially responsible for unleashing the widow's wrath. 'It would probably be wise to remember that.'
With Clint's arm around her shoulder and his undivided attention, Agent Foster was suddenly feeling very much better.
They walked to the military transport together as normal.
'I missed you last night, what happened to you?' Natasha asked.
Clint grunted. 'I was clearing up a mess. A certain agent leaving your room in floods of tears...? I can't stand tears!' He said in exasperation. 'What did you do to her Tash?'
This was not a conversation the Black Widow wanted to have. Damn the girl. 'I didn't do anything to her. You know I hate being disturbed prior to an operation. I don't know how you tolerate the wet little thing.' She snapped.
'Ok... ok...' He held his hands up in mock surrender. 'It's a good thing I didn't get to you then if you were in that mood. I smoothed it all out in the end.'
She knew he was trying to make light of it, but the words cut all the same. He had spent the time... her time... with Agent Foster.
Natasha was aware he was still talking but she was deep in thought. Much as she hated to admit it, she did think of Clint as hers, exclusively, and she had believed he felt the same way. Rather than admitting how she felt to Foster, or even more importantly, to Clint, she had just assumed everything would always stay the same. Now ridiculous as it may seem, someone else could be threatening to take him away from her. The thought filled her with such terror at losing him that the realisation of her feelings struck her like a thunderbolt.
The two assassins would fly into a private airfield in Budapest; their handlers would take the commercial route. Once they had each reached their designated destinations, Coulson would make contact with her and Foster with Barton. 'Hey!' The shout caused both to look up. Agent Foster was running across the tarmac. Barton seemed just as surprised as Natasha. The blonde stopped in front of them, breathless. Her look towards The Black Widow suggested she would like some privacy, but with her newfound introspective Natasha did not feel like obliging.
'Hannah, is something wrong?' Clint asked putting down his bag.
Foster dithered for a moment in an agony of indecision before suddenly grasping Hawkeye's face in her hands and planting a kiss on his lips.
Once he was finally released Clint's face was a picture of shock.
'For last night.' Foster explained, blushing to the root of her hair.
'Um... thank you?' Barton responded uncertainly running a hand through his hair.
With a small kind of bob, Agent Foster turned and almost skipped back down the runway with the object of her affections staring after her. Mouth open Clint looked at Natasha in astonishment. 'What the..?' He said.
'Last night?' The Russian said, her expression leaving no doubt about what she thought his comfort entailed.
'Tash...' He said, but she had already turned and was striding towards the aircraft.