Natasha Romanoff One Shots

Lies

A new voice sounded over the intercom, one that Natasha hadn't heard in years. She had tried to forget it and almost, almost had. Except there it was again.

"Can Natalia Alianovna Romanova please come to Director Fury's office," he said, over and over again.

She froze, feeling everyone's eyes on her. Clint stood beside her, wearing an angry look.

"You know Barnes?" He demanded.

"Not now Clint," she said distractedly, forcing her way through the busy corridor.

She entered Fury's office and stood stiffly beside Clint. Fury and Barnes looked at her, Fury in disbelief and Barnes in. . .well, something like relief.

"Natalia," he said quietly, "what's happening to me? I feel like they're watching me. Everywhere I go they're there."

"James," she whispered. "You're not crazy. It happened to me, too. You just have to get used to it. They won't get you again. I promise."

"How? How can you promise when you don't know that you can?" James said, looking so sad that even Clint felt slightly bad for him.

"Because it's a matter of trust. You have to trust me to help you. Trust me to make a promise and then try and keep it." She smiled.

"Yeah, Nat. A matter of trust. Like trusting another person enough to be able to tell them things," Clint growled.

James looked at them in surprise. "Are - are you two together?"

Fury choked and stared in shock at James, as did the two assassins. 

"What?" Clint gasped.

"Are you serious?" Natasha said, surprised. 

"Um, is that a no?" James asked.

"Yes!" They both exclaimed at the same time. 

"Oh," he said. "It's just, er, HYDRA thinks you are and are planning on capturing you, Natasha, so that Hawkeye over here would come after you, and the Red Room are sending out more experienced killers to kill you now."

"I know," Natasha said simply. "They sent you."

Finally they were allowed to leave. James was being taken to Steve who would look after him. The two assassins headed to the gym but before they could get there, Natasha took off, sprinting full pace down hallway. Clint was pissed and she knew it as well as he did. 

"ROMANOFF!" He yelled. "Get back here!"

She looked back at him incredulously. "Are you insane? While you're looking at me like that? No way!"

She doubled her speed as an arrow came flying over her head, embedding itself in the wall. She turned round a corner, ducking under a new agent's pointing arm. The new agent looked on in surprise, stopping his conversation with Maria Hill. Hill just laughed as Clint rounded the corner, a furious look on his face.

"Natasha!" He shouted. "You lying, sneaky Russian!" 

Natasha didn't stop running, instead speeding up. Sadly for her, Fury opened his office door and got in her way. Clint barreled into her, picking her up and pinning her against the wall. Fury went back into his office.

Clint glared at her. "Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded.

"I don't have to tell you every single thing that goes on in my life," Natasha snapped. 

"Not every single thing, but the big things that could kill you, yes," Clint said angrily. "You actually lied to my face without batting an eyelash."

"I DIDN'T LIE TO YOU!" Natasha yelled. Everyone stopped in their tracks and froze. Natasha didn't just yell for no reason. "I didn't lie to you," she said, quieter. "I just didn't tell you."

"It's the same goddamn thing," Clint exclaimed.

"Barton, you are going to break my wrists if you do not let go, right now," she said.

Something in her voice warned him to let go but he plowed on recklessly. "I thought we trusted each other."

"We do. Just not enough, it would seem. And Clint, I did warn you." She kneed him in the groin and continued walking briskly towards the gym.

Clint winced and fell to his knees. 

Hill stepped forward from the crowd and patted him on the back. "You deserved that."

"Thanks, Maria," he groaned. "Let me know when she's coming my way."

"Sure. She's coming right now," Hill grinned.

Sure enough, there she was, her vibrant red hair a dead give away. Natasha knelt down beside him and picked up her gun.

"Don't steal my stuff," she said coldly. "And honestly, with the way you treat women, you should be used to that by now."

Clint scowled at her. "None of them are red headed Russian assassins."

"You always say Russian when you're insulting me. It's not an insult, you know," she said. 

"I know. I'm just reminding you of how terrifying you are because of your Russian-ness," Clint smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Fury came out of his office three minutes later when he assumed it would be safe and sighed as everyone looked to him for help. Fifteen bullet holes claimed the wall around Clint's head and shoulders. Now her gun was aimed at his arm. Her finger was on the trigger.

"Romanoff, if you fire that gun you will be on probation for the rest of your sorry life," Fury growled.

Natasha sighed in defeat. "You ruin all my fun, Fury. It wasn't even a proper bullet. See? It's a paintball."

"Junior training at 8:00 tomorrow morning," Fury ordered.

A strange glint came into her eyes.

"And no hurting them. At all," he said.

"Not even a little bit?"

"Nope." Fury looked at Clint for a few minutes. "Barton, you're doing it with her. Make sure she doesn't scare, kill or hurt any of them at all."

"Damn you, Fury," Clint muttered.

Fury raised an eyebrow. "Well, I assumed you'd be happy to. You could talk out all your problems with your girlfriend while they run."

The next thing he knew an angry Russian red head was attacking him before she was pulled back by her partner.

"Natasha, no matter how much the director annoys you, you are not allowed to attack him," Clint scolded. "Though he deserved that," he muttered under his breath.

Natasha snorted. "And here you are lecturing me about not attacking this sorry excuse for a boss." She walked off down the hall. "See you in the morning."