Hi guys. I'm so rusty it's not even funny. Is fan fiction still relevant? Does anyone even still care about this ship? I feel like I am so out of the loop, but I hope you enjoy this….

Based on a tumblr prompt "One member of the couple says I love you when they are exhausted or out of it to the other, the next morning they either don't remember saying it or deny that they remember it."

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Clint buried his face into Natasha's curls, he was half asleep but just awake enough to appreciate the weight of her in his arms, the smell of her shampoo, the fact that at least for another night she was safe and besides him. Alive, breathing; injured, but not life threateningly so. It had been a long grueling couple of days, that the archer was currently trying not to think about. But now Clint and his partner were both safe, Natasha was in his arms, and though this mission had left both of them with new scars it could have been so much worse. As Natasha moved in her sleep, and he tightened his grip around her, Clint wished that this moment in the dark would never end.

They had been in Germany when the mission had gone south. Their source had betrayed them, bullets had gone flying, Natasha had been shot. Twice. But at the end of the day after some tricky maneuvering, a risky move and a few hours in the med bay of Shield, Strike Team Delta knew how much worse today could have gone. It hadn't exactly been pleasant for either of them to experience Nat getting bullets dug out from under her skin, but at least neither of them had needed any serious surgery.

The best thing of the day, was that Natasha had actually allowed them to give her some pain medication, without her putting up a massive fight. Clint had been her partner for almost three years now, and it was the first time he remembered Natasha quietly accepting medicine when she wasn't unconscious. Earlier Clint hadn't had time to question it, but now in his half asleep state the scenario flitted across his mind again. She hadn't been hurt that badly, pain hadn't motivated her to accept the medicine. He still vividly remembered the time she'd had two enemy arrows pierce her shoulder, skewering her so they came out the other side, and she had refused to accept any kind of pain medication. Instead she had done her mission debriefing as the doctor had removed the arrows, she never flinched, just occasionally paused and took a deep breathe in-between telling the details of that mission to Coulson. That had been at the start of their partnership, a rough time that they were both happy was now in the past.

What had changed since then? How come now she hadn't even flinched when the nervous nurse had cautiously brought out the painkillers to offer her? A thought suddenly occurred to the archer.

Maybe Natasha finally trusted Shield enough that she would allow herself to be put in a vulnerable state on the meds when she was on base. But that didnt make sense, just last week Clint had been on another mission, and gotten an annoyed text from Coulson. Natasha had been cut with a wicked dagger, needed multiple stitches and was clearly in pain but hadn't accepted any kind of pain killers. Even when Clint had contacted her, she had still refused. What was different about today? Maybe, maybe… Maybe she had let them give her the medicine today because Clint was there, and she trusted that even if she was on pain medications that could mess with her head, nothing bad would happen to her if the archer was present.

This thought was so sudden the archer gasped, and at the motion Natasha stirred, for a second he thought she was going to wake up. But though her eyes briefly fluttered, they stayed closed. It did make sense. Natasha wasn't one to express her feelings or admit if she trusted anyone, but now that Clint was thinking about it, this had clearly been a sign of trust. And in the last few months there had been a shift in their relationship.

Like how it wasn't even question now that if they were together, on a mission or at base, they would be sharing a room. Or how she had his coffee order memorized, and if she went to the cafeteria in the morning before he woke up, she would bring him back a tall iced coffee with an extra shot of espresso, and a blueberry muffin. There was the relief in her eyes he swore was there every time they reunited after they were sent away on separate missions, the way she continued to talk Fury into sending them on missions that required both parts of Strike Team Delta. There were the stolen moments they had indulged in recently under the cover of darkness.

Clint couldn't deny that he'd had feelings for Natasha for a long time, almost since the start of their working together. First feelings of friendship, and now feelings he wasn't brave enough to consider. But in spite of all that had gone on between the two of them, especially in the last year, Barton hadn't wanted to consider that maybe Natasha viewed him as more than a partner. That maybe she saw him as someone she really fully trusted, viewed him as an actual friend… Maybe viewed him as something more.

He carefully gathered her body closer against his, and whispered the words he was too scared to ever say to her conscious face. "I love you, Nat…" When suddenly, she fluttered her eyes through a haze of medicine and sleep and murmured "Love you too…" And then she was deep again in a medicated sleep. She'd been so quiet, very well might have been sleep talking. But hearing her say those words still made Clint's heart soar, his heart skip a beat. It was the first time he'd heard the words come from his partners mouth. And if he could, he would do anything in the world if it guaranteed that this wouldn't be the last time he heard her say those words.

Clint wasn't a fool. He knew she was probably sleep talking, and the archer couldn't forget that pain medication went a long way towards loosening someones tongue.

But he also knew that pain medicine didn't just make people babble nonsense, sometimes it was what was needed to make someone drop their walls and reveal how they felt.

Regardless of what this meant, if he never heard her say those words again, if they had not even meant anything, Clint held this moment tight and knew he was going to cherish this memory. He kissed his partners forehead, and finally let himself fall asleep.

The next morning, Natasha was doing her best to act like everything was normal, like she hadn't been shot just the day before. She moved quickly around the small room, joking with Clint about the odds that they would be sent on another mission sooner rather than later. Clint knew he shouldn't bring up anything about last night, in fact he almost suspected that he had dreamt the sleepy conversation he'd had with her. But he couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop staring at her. Eventually she called him out on it.

"Why are you so chipper, Barton? You're never in this good of a mood before you have your morning coffee. What, are you happy that for once I'm hurt instead of you?" Clint snorted, "Come on, it was your turn to get injured, I got shot last time. And you know I'm never happy to see you hurt." Romanoff snorted, "What is it then?"

For a second, Clint did feel a bit of a pang. He hadn't expected for her to remember her words of love from last night, but it still would have been nice. A man can dream. It really hadn't been anything more than exhausted, medicine induced ramblings…. The joy that had been rising inside of him dimmed just a little bit. Still, he smiled at her, gently grabbed her hand and led her to the bed urging her to sit down.

"It's nothing, Nat. I'm just happy you're ok. Stop moving, or you're going to rip your stitches and have to go back to that idiotic doctor. I'll be right back, when I get us breakfast is there anything else that would help you feel better?" "Um, can you get me a time machine so I never got shot in the first place?" "Ooh, that might be tricky… Would you settle for a chocolate croissant?" She sighed dramatically, "I guess that will have to do Barton…."

Clint was about to leave, when suddenly Widow grabbed his hand, pulled him in and kissed the breath out of him. When she was done he stumbled back, he could feel the shock on his face. "Woah, what was that for?" Natasha avoided making eye contact with him, but a slight smile was playing at the edges of her mouth. "Just. My way of saying I'm glad you're here, and thank you for taking care of me…"

He left the room and just like that the stupid unfiltered joy was back. Maybe she didn't remember what she had said last night, maybe it hadn't been anything more than exhausted medication induced ramblings. But Clint knew her. He knew she normally didn't do words, or emotions, or feelings. But he knew how she felt, and hoped that she knew how he felt. It had been nice to hear her say those words last night, but they were not a part of whatever this relationship was. Clint knew that he loved her, and even if she never acknowledged how she felt about him out loud again, he knew she cared about him to some extent. And when she figured out what those feelings she had for him were, he'd be here. Waiting. Loving her. Fighting with her, and bringing her chocolate pastries after every mission that they came out of alive.

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Please review, it will mean the world to me.