Loki's one shots

Target Practice (Natasha x Clint)

Clint went to the training room to do his Dailey round of shooting. Every day at 4:30 AM sharp he went there. For two reasons....

1. He always had room to improve

2............Natasha was always there

He had always had a crush on her, ever since Budapest.(which we don't speak of)

He tried to look like he was focused on making a bullseye. Ha. He didn't need to look to make one. He watched Natasha roll around, shooting drones while blindfolded. None of the bots got within twelve feet to her.

......

"Hey Barton!" Natasha's red hair suddenly covered Clint's face, making him sit up in surprise. "You getting enough sleep? You were dozing off just then....."

Clint turned red and turned to face her. "Yeah! I was just too deep in thought..." Natasha nodded and sat next to him.

They were silent for a moment, with Natasha studying her fingernails, and Clint staring at his feet. Clint's hand suddenly shot out, and squeezed the area between Natasha's rib cage and hip, causing her to squeal, and back-hand him across his shoulder.

"You're ticklish," he said, grinning with his new discovery.

They were standing now, and she backed away from him, a hand covering the affected area. "Don't push me," she warned.

"Or what?" he teased.

He stepped forwards, and she stepped backwards. They did this sort of cadence until they reached the locker rooms, where there was a dead end.

"I have you trapped," he laughed.

"That's what you think."

He raised an eyebrow. Natasha suddenly fell to the floor, trapping his ankle between her two feet, and twisted, causing him to catapult to the ground. He aimed a hit to her face; she blocked it. She swung an elbow towards his stomach; he caught it.

They did their odd tango throughout the room, each intercepting each other's hits, with occasional breakthroughs; Natasha dealt a fierce roundhouse kick to Clint's exposed ribcage, and he managed to sneak in a knife hand to her collarbone.

They stumbled into the bathroom, and as Clint raised his fist, she did a back flip, grabbed the towel ring, and swung herself into his chest, throwing him to the ground. He grabbed her face, and tilting her chin upwards, he managed to lower her to the floor. However, his position of dominance did not last long, as her heel smacked him in the solar plexus, and he let go of her with a miniscule whine.

As she got up, he threw his arms around her waist, ignoring the sharp pain induced by her fist to his temple, and they both crashed into the shower, taking the curtain down with them. Natasha kicked, and her foot activated the shower head, which spat icy-cold water down on top of them. They both screamed, and Clint hurriedly switched the thing off.

They sat in the tub, breathing hard, both adequately wet from the shower. They simultaneously broke into laughter.

Natasha was wiping laughter-induced tears from her eyes as Clint said, "I'll buy you a new shirt."

"Don't-don't bother," she said, and then entered a fresh round of laughter, doubling over. Clint had never seen her laugh this hard in his entire lifetime, and this provoked strong-bellied laughter from his as well.

"Ahhh," Natasha sighed, and leaned upon Clint, the back of her head on his chest.

"Well, that was relaxing," Clint said.