Natasha + Clint: One shots.

Four

Clint Barton always hated formal suits. The shoes always just a little bit too shiny, the jackets too hot and the long sleeves were always uncomfortable against his arms as they seemed to constrict every movement his muscles wanted to make. They were impractical.

Even he couldn't deny though that today, he looked good.

Every seam was in place, the shirt soft and comfortable against his torso, the tie not tight around his neck so he could barely breath. He smoothed down his jacket once again, sighing heavily as he looked at himself in the mirror while inspecting himself from all angles. He never cared this much about his appearance, but today was special, he wanted to look his best.

Natasha silently watched him from the door way, her arms folded as she leaned against its frame. She half smiled watching him fuss over himself, fidgeting with cuff links and fabric a she fretted about the smallest of things. It stung her, how much he cared.

She decided to make herself known to him, straightening up and stepping towards him, her heels clicking as she walked and her long, soft rose coloured dress floating around her legs as she moved towards him. He turned, smiling widely at her when he spotted her through the mirror.

"Thank god you're here, I was about to strangle myself with this tie," he quipped, straightening it again for the hundredth time. She reached out and straightened it back to where he had it before, smiling up at him.

"Stop fussing, you look great," she said, smoothing the tie down his chest perhaps for a little longer than necessary. "Do you really think I'd let you out of this room if you didn't?" She pushed her hands up onto his shoulders, brushing off dust that wasn't there. He smiled at her, unaware of her prolonged hold on him and she dropped her hands back to her sides smoothly. She stayed close in front of him as he thanked her, watching him frown slightly as his mind wandered to worry once more.

"Everything's in place, right? No one knows about this?"

"'No one knows that doesn't need to know," she told him confidently, again keeping the irritation out of her voice at the repeated question. "A few agents to make sure all areas are being watched around the perimeter, they don't even know this is happening, just that it's a restricted area. Fury and Coulson are keeping an eye on things while they are here too, as will Maria and me. " She nodded, "It'll all be fine Clint."

He nodded again, turning back to the mirror to study himself once more. "And she's down there? She's ready?"

"She is." Natasha nodded, forcing a soft smile on her lips to mask the next sting her heart gave when his shoulders visibly relaxed.

"God, I can't wait." He sighed to himself, fondly, so full of love for a woman that wasn't her.

She had spent years befriending her, gaining her trust just to make her life easier. Selfishly, so he could be around her. Trusted by the new girl on the scene to be working and travelling and hanging around with her. It had worked, but at a price.

And she just had to tell him how she really felt.

"Clint," she spoke before she could stop herself, rethink it through. But why should she? She knew how she felt, she knew she loved him. That all those nights of passionate kissed and sleepless nights weren't flitting moments they'd forget about or were as accidental as they portrayed. They meant something. She had smothered it. Smothered him from developing anything more than a friendship for her, and she regretted it. "There is something I've been meaning to tell you..."

He turned as she took a few steps towards him, face inches from his, eyes wide as she watched him. He looked concerned, a flash of worry. "What is it Nat?"

"They're ready for you downstairs." Coulson interrupted, lingering in the doorway. "Don't want to keep the bride waiting."

Clint's face lit up as he exhaled out his nerves. "Thanks Coulson. Can this wait Nat?" He asked her, grinning like a cat about to get the cream.

She smiled, fake and false but convincing enough for him. "It's nothing important. Just, Congratulations. I'm glad you found your right girl."

He smiled kissing her cheek fleetingly in thanks and rushing out the room to get into position. Natasha but her lip, dropping onto the chair near her as Coulson took a few steps into the room.

"You can't tell him Nat, not today. Not ever." He said sympathetically, pushing his hands in his pockets.

"I know, it was a stupid thought..." she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I missed my chance."

"There will be other men, someone you'll love more than Barton. Trust me, I know these things." He offered his hand out to her. "Unfortunately, for today you're my date." She gave a small genuine smile as she took his hand and let him guide her up from the chair. They linked arms and she rested her head on his shoulder for a moment. He blinked at the uncharacteristic affection from her, but smiled.

"Could be worse, Maria has to go with Fury." She teased half heartedly, grinning as Coulson chuckled and patted her arm. She didn't have Clint. She didn't have anyone romantically. But she had friendship, and guidance and for now, maybe that's all she really needed.