5. A History |Clintasha (smut)

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A long history lesson. Full title

Natasha leaned against the nearest wall, scarlet blood trickling out of several wounds around her hands, face, and neck. Clint pressed his back to the wall, sweat soaking his neck, his bow balancing on the tips of his fingers, and a cut skimmed his upper bicep.

"Huh. Just like Budapest all over again," Natasha laughed harshly, looking over at the blonde.

"You and I remember Budapest very, very differently. Now let's go home. The mission is over, everything is fine and I'm sure Fury will be wanting a report back on his desk by morning." Clint turned, sliding his bow into its holster on his back and he walked out of the building, only looking back to make sure Natasha was following.

It hurt to walk, but people were safe. Natasha wouldn't go back and change a thing. Scars fade, wounds heal, but death is forever. Natasha knew that those HYDRA soldiers wouldn't be able to hurt anyone anymore. But she needed a break. She needed a break from all of the chaos that SHIELD caused on missions. She wanted to not be worried about saving people, or killing them. She wanted to be a normal person for once. But her history said otherwise.

Natasha just wanted to leave behind all the chaos that came with being an assassin. She wanted to get married, and not be worried about her kids or husband be taken for ransom.

Natasha didn't know exactly how to do that. Especially when the person she wanted to get married to had no idea that she loved him.

Not liked, loved.

Yes, there was a difference. Clinton Barton was the man she loved and she had no doubt that he only saw her as an accomplice, a friend. A fellow assassin.

She followed him, emerging from the tree line, towards the SHIELD van waiting to pick them up and take them back to headquarters. Waiting for them in the front seat was none other than Maria Hill, hair tied neatly back in an up-do, her bangs framing her face, sharp eyes watching the trees behind them.

Natasha climbed into the van and slid into the seat next to Clint, their legs brushing gently. She looked at him, and his eyes were closed, a muscle in his jaw feathered and she put a hand on his knee to relax him.

Clint opened his eyes barely, and looked over at her, a tired look masking his face. "I'm alright Nat. Thank you."

Natasha nodded, but she kept her hand on his knee, thumb brushing his thigh slowly. Clint put his hand over hers, and she held her breath, not wanting the moment to end.

"Tell me about the Red Room."

Nat stilled immediately, and moved her hand out from under Clint's.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry Nat, I forgot. I was just curious," Clint apologized frantically, his eyes worried. "It's just, you never seem to talk about it, unless you absolutely have to, and I already know a lot about you, but the Red Room is a gray area and I don't really have any information on it. Sorry. You don't have to talk about it-" Natasha looked over when Clint quieted, apparently realizing that he was rambling.

Natasha laughed quietly, the tension melting away from her body, shoulders pressing against the back of the cushioned seat behind her. "It's all right, Clint, I'm just not used to people asking about the Red Room so.. so, bluntly," She teased him, his face going a light pink. "Do you really want me to tell you?"

He nodded, although somewhat hesitantly, Natasha noticed, but she didn't think anything of it really. she started to describe what her time in the Red Room was like, but at that moment, Maria called from the front of the van.

"You two back there, we're almost to headquarters, grab your gear and get ready to vacate the van. I've got more agents to drive around." Then her voice was quieter like she didn't want Natasha and Clint to hear. "It's not like I have anything better to do, like paperwork, or actually running SHIELD because no one else does apparently."

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