A/N: All dialogue in italics are Russian. Enjoy!

Three times she'd done it. Three times she'd left him, high and dry, claiming the most bullshit excuses. He was really fucking fed up. There was not going to be a time number four.

The first time she'd done it was the first time he'd met her. His assignment had been to eliminate the enemy agent known only as "The Black Widow." She was in a hotel in Smolensk. He went in claiming to be one of the engineers at a conference in the hotel. SHIELD believed she was there to kill one of the key-note speakers to keep him from spilling secrets to the US. He roamed around the floor for hours, looking for anyone who fit her description. That was when he ran into the redhead.

"So sorry." Her voice was husky, the kind made for dark spaces and bad things.

"No, entirely my fault." He held onto her arm for far longer then was strictly necessary. "Branson Price." He held out his hand trying very hard not to stare at her cleavage.

"Ilyana Novikov. Nice to meet you." Her hands were slim and she had.. caluses? Shit, those were gun caluses. This was her. This was her? The infamous Black Widow was this knockout lady? Wow.

He extricated himself and smiled slightly. "I'm sure I'll see you around."

"I'm sure." Her smile was cold. Shit. She'd made him. Now would be a good time to disappear. He ditched the shindig and grabbed his gear, taking to the high ground. Then, he waited.

He found her lurking in the rafters above the stage. They fought for what could have been hours, he wasn't really sure. All he'd been noticing was how good she was and how good she looked. When he had her down, a knife at her throat, he hesitated.

"I don't have to kill you," he said. "You come back with me, work with SHIELD, all will be forgiven."

She tried to spit at him, though it was difficult with her face pressed into a wooden beam. "Never, asshole. I don't need your handouts."

He sighed. "It's not a hand out. You're good, and you're gonna get killed working these kind of jobs."

"So SHIELD can protect me? I won't die there? Right." She sneered as he hefted her to her feet, shuffling her forward across the beam.

"Can't guarantee anything, sweetheart. But at least you won't have me on your tail." She grunted in response. He took out a small device and slipped it into her belt.

"Press the button on that and SHIELD'll pick you up." She smiled and he wondered how terrifying a last sight she would make. Then she swept his leg out from under him and cracked his head on the wood.

"I'm sure I'll see you around."

His last sight was her mighty fine backside hopping off the end of the rafter. His last thought was that he really hoped she would press the button.

She was in the Helicarrier two weeks later.

They ran missions together, they fought, they sparred. He pretty soon couldn't imagine a world without Natasha Romanoff. Then came Budapest.

It started like most missions do. After getting dropped in the middle of nowhere, they shoot a few infidels, everything's fine. Except it wasn't. Their intel was wrong, the terrorist group was ten times bigger then they thought. That's when Nat got shot. It was also when he lost his shit.

He watched the bullet slam through her side. He watched her fall to the ground and watched her crumple in pain. He yelled out loud, probably a stupid move, but he couldn't help it. She could die.

He gathered her body into his arms and ran. He dodged bullets and bodies to get to a small safe house. It was half a mile from where she fell, but he didn't notice his lungs were burning until he'd set her body down on the small cot that wasn't much more then some metal slats with a sheet on top. He collapsed to his knees.

"Nat. Nat, you gotta wake up. Nat, please." He fumbled around in the safe house, his breath pounding in and out of his body. Finally, fucking finally, he found the med-kit. He tried as best as he could to dress the wound with shaking hands.

"Clint, Clint they're coming for me." Her voice was thin, reedy, nothing like her usual dark tones. That's what scared him the most. Her wall was coming down. The wall she used to protect herself from what she'd done. The one he'd built in his own head. The wall that kept everyone else out.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. You weren't supposed to get hurt. I'm sorry." She was babbling, the words coming so fast, he could barely understand them.

"Nat, Natasha, sweetheart, look at me." He grabbed her face in his hands. "Natasha, it's going to be fine. I promise."

She shook slightly and he clutched her. "I'm gonna die. They're gonna take me away, Clint. I don't want them to take me. Please don't let them take me. When you die they take your body away, they take you away and experiment on you. They bring you back and they make you a machine. I don't want to be a machine. I don't want to be a machine."

"You're not going to be a machine, I promise." He wrapped her wound muttering the same thing, over and over. "I promise, I promise."

The made it out of Budapest alive. She had a scar on her side, but that was nothing new. She had scars all over. When she woke up though, he asked her about what she'd said in Budapest, and she lied, said she didn't say anything. Said if she had said anything, she didn't remember. But she looked a little sideways when she said it. She lied to him. Then she walked away.

It was before the Avengers thing. She'd come back from a mission, one that obviously reminded her of her days before SHIELD. She only sat in her room with her shoulders hunched over when she was remembering the old days.

"What was it?"

"A kid. Little girl. She looked like my sister."

"'M sorry."

"I know." She looked down at her hands, twisted together in her lap. He grabbed one, on impulse. Probably a stupid one, since she could have shot him for that. But she didn't, she just leaned her head on his shoulder.

They sat there in silence until she spoke. "Clint, I don't want to remember, not now."

"Alright. What do you want to do?"

"I... just don't let me remember." Then she kissed him. And she kept on kissing him. And she didn't remember anything but him for the rest of the night.

She left the next morning. He woke up to an empty bed. When he confronted her later her response was something along the lines of "just needed a distraction." He told her how much shit she was shoveling and she hit him. She punched him in the gut. She'd never actually hit him before. Sure they'd sparred, and she'd smacked him when he was being annoying, but she'd never actually hit him. He backed away.

"Fine. If all I am is a quick fuck, that's fine. Not like I care."

"Clint." She sighed. She actually sighed like this was somehow his fault. "I just needed a distraction-"

"A distraction? That's all I am? If you wanted a distraction, watch shitty late-night cable. Don't come at me with your stupid doe-eyes. I'm not gonna do this, not with you and not with all that's happened. If you want a fuck-buddy, go grab one of the recruits. They'd just love that."

"I didn't-"

"I don't care." He turned away. "I'll.. I'll talk to you later."

He didn't talk to her until after his "cognitive re-calibration." When he woke to find her in his room, saw the way she looked at him, he knew he had to fix it.

He didn't get a chance until after the Avengers thing. As they got into the car and drove away, Loki safely delivered back to Asgard, he broached the subject.

"Tasha, we have to talk about this."

She sighed slightly, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I know. I was just.. upset. I wasn't trying to use you.

"Definitely didn't seem like that at the time." He knew he sounded like a grumpy two year-old, but it.. hurt. She might, possibly, actually be someone he cares about. A lot. And that really doesn't happen very often.

"I know. I promise though-"

He interrupted her. "Pull over."

Her trained reflexes immediately thought danger and she swerved across lanes of traffic and parked on the shoulder. "What-"

He kissed her. The kind of kiss that shows up in those stupid romantic movies he really truly doesn't watch. His hands were on her face and hers were in his hair and it was tongues and mouths and the best damn kiss he'd ever been a part of. He pulled back, needing to breathe, and rested his forehead against hers.

"I don't want this to be just a quick fuck because I think I just might love you and I don't want you to do something stupid and die when I'm not there and I love you so please don't leave me, Nat, just don't because when that fucking staff was rooting around in my head the only thing I could think about was that it would really suck to lose my mind without being able to see you again and I know Loki probably used me against you but I swear I'd never hurt you, Natasha, I promise." It all fell out of him in a breath. Every last thing he ever thought or felt about her.

She stared at him for a second, the silence hanging heavy in the car. "You're insane." But she smiled while she said it, which he figured was a good thing. Then she kissed him again, which he knew was a very good thing.

"I love you too, Barton. Even if you are nuts."

He smiled. The next time she walked away, he wouldn't have to worry about her not coming back. He'd just enjoy the view.