A/N: I am baaaaaaaack. I still don't own any of them. I hope you will enjoy another one of my drabbles. Warning: A wee bit of a CapAM:WS spoiler thing in this one, as it falls after on the timeline. JSYK. :)


A Still Small Voice

Chapter 8

Natasha was hearing way too many voices. This whole teamwork thing could be quite annoying when it meant having Tony Stark prattling in one's ear. She skirted down the hallway towards her target, a bank of computers where their bad-guy-of-the-month kept all of his bad guy plans. They had been putting down way too many wanna-be's like this guy Kingman in the months since SHIELD had fallen.

Faint bangs and pops emanated from the exterior walls as the boys worked to subdue the armed mercenaries hired to keep the good guys out of his little super-secret base. Natasha snorted at both their inability to keep her out and her self-appointed "good guy" status. Never failed to amuse.

"Clint, how is it looking out there? Neutralized?" She reached the door that Kingman had indicated as containing the computer nerve center during her brief but effective interrogation. She entered the security code and strolled in, ready to download and detonate.

"It will be as soon as Stark stops showing off." Clint sounded a bit breathless.

Tony's voice joined in on the conversation. "Aw, you never want to have any fun, Birdy. Have you always been such a stick in the mud?"

"Nat, what corner are you in? I am trying to get eyes on you. We still have a few stray cockroaches that are unaccounted for."

Natasha rolled her eyes a bit at his overprotective gesture, but smiled a bit nonetheless. "I am in the west corner, 5th floor, and all by my lonesome. Just keep my extraction point clear. I will be heading that way in 5."

"Copy. Got you covered." Clint's voice hadn't lost all of its worry.

"Never doubted it." And she didn't.

"Awwwww, isn't that cute. Such sweet talk."

"SHUT UP, STARK," they yelled simultaneously.

"Really, though, you guys are adorable. You need a couple name, something catchy, like Brangelina…I know, Clintasha!"

"Stark, would you quit your bullshit and pay attention to your six. We still have two hostiles somewhere around here."

She tuned out their bickering as she placed the final two charges and grabbed the extracted drive, ready to head for her exit.

"DAMNIT STARK, BEHIND YOU! ROCKET LAUNCHER! SHIT! NAT, GET DOWN!"

She barely had time to register his panicked order before the corner of the building exploded and she was thrown back into the room and buried in debris. When she shook off the dust and the ringing in her ears finally diminished, Nat could hear Clint's desperate voice calling out to her over the coms.

"Nat! Can you hear me? Nat, do you copy? I'm coming!"

As she tried to reclaim her breath to answer, she heard Clint's approach just on the other side of the rubble and echoed in her ear.

"I'm good!" She finally choked out an answer as she clamored to her feet and took stock of what remained of her surroundings. The door was blocked by several ceiling beams.

"Nat, thank god. Are you hurt?" Clint started breathing for the first time since he saw the rocket ricochet off Stark's suit and into the side of the building.

"I am fine. A little dusty and very stuck, but no injuries. Can you get me out of here? I was lucky the blast didn't set off the C4, but I would rather not test how far that luck goes by lingering too long."

Clint could tell from the smile in her voice that she was truly okay. He started to shift the larger pieces of ceiling away from the door.

"I should have this cleared out in just a few, but while I have you as a captive audience, there was something I have been meaning to discuss with you." His tone had shifted from business to pleasure.

She huffed, "This is definitely not the time for a personal conversation. We have Iron Ass still tapped in." She started to poke around the room, looking for anything to help accelerate her departure.

Clint chuckled even as he continued lifting and clearing. "Oh, Stark isn't on our line anymore. I had Jarvis sever our coms. No recordings either. Jarvis may be afraid of you, but he likes me. Right, Jarvis."

"Of course, Mr. Barton," the A.I. promptly replied.

"So since we are very much alone in our conversation, I have been wanting to ask you about terms of endearment."

He swore he could almost hear her tense up. "What exactly do you want to know about them?"

"Well, I was thinking…"

"Never a good idea," she interrupted.

"Like I was saying, I have so many nicknames for you, but no terms of endearment. I was hoping to run some of them by you, see which would be acceptable to you." He chuckled at the muttered Russian oath she let slip.

"You know that I am going to kick your ass when I get out of here, right?"

"I am hoping that we will get to one you can accept by the time we get you free. Maybe you will let me off with a warning?" Her growl was the only response to his wishful thought process, but he was having too much fun to stop messing with her now.

"What about honey? Or baby?" The litany of very nasty curses spilled into his ear, covering at least three languages.

"Okay, so no on both of those. What about sweetheart or sweetie?" Only silence met this suggestion, so he moved on.

"If those don't work, maybe darling?" She still didn't respond, so he stalled his movements and leaned into the door.

"Nat? Can you hear me? Are you okay?" Suddenly, he felt rather than heard her drop behind him from above.

"Shitshitshit." He turned, expecting to pay for his cheekiness with a few fresh bruises and probably a few lonely nights. When he saw her, though, she had a peculiar look on her face. She stepped close to him, barely a breath between them.

"So you know that I plan on making you pay for this little conversation later, yes?" She arched her brow slightly.

"Yes, I am pretty sure I won't make it out of this unscathed."

"Then why don't you just let me know what exactly it is you really had in mind as our chosen term of endearment." She stepped forward so they were separated only by their respective suits and his breath caught a little in his chest.

"What about love?" He kept his gaze on her, all humor gone from his mind. Her face gave nothing away for a few tense moments

Suddenly, she smiled, genuinely, softly. "Ok. I find that acceptable."

Unable to stand it anymore, he pulled her in for a kiss. When they pulled away, they were both a bit breathless.

"So, now that it is decided, can we get out of here? I would like to blow this damned place up. I have plans for you, and I would like to get to them." She turned and started strolling enticingly towards the exit.

"Am I going to like these plans?"

She threw a teasing glance over her shoulder. "Perhaps."

He grinned widely and started jogging to catch up. "Wait up, love."


A/N: So I really hope you like this one. It was originally supposed to be all fun and giggles, but they got a bit serious and sweet towards the end. And who am I to stand in their way. ;) Please please drop me some reviews if you have a chance. Life has been a bit hard lately, and they make things shiny. I still have tons of possible ideas left, let me know if y'all are still with me on this silly OOC ride.

Postscript: I cannot wait! for May. I am truly hoping that Nat/Clint become a cannon couple. I will do backflips. Or whatever the old lady equivalent of backflips are...