A/N: Hi there Blackhawk/Clintasha fans! I love these two so much! anyways, I wrote this just after the movie and never got around to posting - life gets in the way sometimes - but here it is :)

Hopefully you'll like it. It's PWP, but somehow, plot turned up... so its just basically P. :)

I love Joss, I worship at the Whedon Temple daily, and I love that he got to do the movies, and hopefully I've added enough Joss-y oneliners in this.

Oh, and all of the refrences to other shows. I read this again, and I'm so proud of this one! that never happens.

Hopefully you'll enjoy it!

'Let me tell you how this is going to work.'

The muscular man pressed up behind her, full body contact, showing just how much control he felt he had over her. To a certain extent he did. But this was the Black Widow we were talking about here; she doesn't give up control, she lulls you into a false sense of security, then strikes. You think you're in control and then you're bleeding out. Natasha smirked at the confidence in the man's deep, gravelly voice; laughing at his 'upper-hand.' The Black Widow controlled just how much control you had over her.

If this had of been an operation, this man would probably be chocking on an arrow through his jugular; but this wasn't a mission, and her partner wasn't up in the rafters, watching her every move. And instead of her black catsuit and her Widow's Bites, she was in an elegant dress with sparkly jewellery.

She looked around the glorious ballroom Stark had hired for the night; or knowing him, owned. Tony had put together a massive party for all those who had sponsored and helped putting New York back together after the Loki incident. He also invited many of the personal business owners, at the insistence of Pepper; the ones who had lost everything in the ordeal.

It was also a must that all the Avengers who defended Manhattan would attend.

Natasha didn't really like elegant parties; they reminded her of missions, and that was the last thing she wanted on her mind right now. However, she was coerced by her former employer, who basically demanded not be the only female from Stark Tower inhabitants to attend.

Pepper had a certain way about her, a persuasive aspect that Natasha was sure she had honed over years of working with Tony Stark. Needless to say, Pepper had been shocked at first that Natalie was actually Natasha working for S.H.I.E.L.D. – not so shocked about S.H.I.E.L.D., though – and the two had become fast friends, so Natasha had reluctantly given in.

She will give Stark give him credit, though. If there is one thing Tony knew how to do, aside from being a jackass, it was put on an amazing party. The hall was classy with crystal chandeliers, champagne fountains and women wearing more gems than the crown jewels and even more lavish gowns.

Nat was a balloons and streamers kind of girl, but of course, Tony had strung them up too, with a banner reading 'Thank You, Avengers', - which Stark denied until he was blue in the face - that he himself had arranged it.

Regardless of all the shiny, Natasha would rather be snuggled in a blanket watching some shitty movie and eating crappy pizza than dressed in this pale green, strapless, floor length gown, that was getting her more attention than she liked.

Too many S.H.I.E.L.D. newbies had already come up asking her to dance, with the occasional egotistical agent propositioning her, not to mention all the other older politicians and influential men offering to 'show her a good time.' She kind of wished she was on a mission, because then she'd be able to hurt these men. She hated not being as armed as usual, only carrying her favourite knife strapped to her thigh.

Rationally speaking, no idiot would dare attack Tony's shindig. Six avengers were inside as well as numerous shield agents; not to mention the protection detail covering the building, comprising of the newer Avengers and older more, experienced agents, in short, the Cavalry was here.

Regardless of all the man power, the original Avengers team had stashed various weapons around the place, because, let's face it: bad guys aren't the sharpest tools in the shed. Mijolnir was stashed under the table to her left, Tony's suit was in that closet in the far corner and he was wearing the SMART bracelets, Steve's shield was under the podium, Clint had three of his favourite bows and quivers behind the larger fake trees, and Natasha had a gun under every single table in the place that her team knew about. And as Tony would say, 'We have a Hulk.' Enough said.

'Hmm, and how is it going to work?' Nat purred, focusing her attention back on the male form behind her, leaving the flute of champagne she had been eying on the table.

'I want to see the Black Widow in action.'

'You've seen me action before.' Natasha reminded, stepping back into his warm body just a little more.

'Not the kind of action I'm talking about,' he breathed hotly on her neck. 'I want you to seduce me like you do your targets.'

The Widow in her allowed a smirk to form on her lips. 'The seduction usually ends with my partner putting an arrow through your skull before we get to the fun part.'

'It's a good thing your partner has the night off, then.'

'You forget, I did the job just fine before he came along. I can still kill you 10 different ways before you put a weapon in my hand.'

'You forget, I know how your body works, Nat.' he said, pushing his hips into her backside. An uncontrollable shiver ran through her and she could hear the smirk come to his mouth. 'I can never forget that you are flexible and agile,' she felt his hand graze her hip teasingly. 'And that you have numerous ways of killing me with that gorgeous body of yours; but that's half the fun.'

Slowly the Widow turned in the man's taunting, barely-there embrace, to find blue-gray eyes staring at her with such an intense lust, that if she wasn't as strong as she was, she would be a puddle of liquid on the floor in front of him.

'I've already seduced you, Clint. I have you wrapped around my little finger.'

Of course, Clint being Clint, he grabbed one of her hands and kissed her pinkie finger. Her eyes rolled teasingly, but secretly loving his small loving actions. Barton was the only who could do it and live, and he was well aware of how lucky he was.

'That wasn't seduction, Nat.' he whispered solemnly. 'That was me realising that after all the near death incidents, kidnapping and brainwashing,' Nat cocked her head slightly, her expression softening ever so slightly, as her fingers curled around his. 'I needed you to know that I had fallen for you - hard.'

Natasha smiled at the memory.

After Thor had left for Asgard with Loki in chains, Clint had whisked her away to a beach somewhere on the west coast, as far away from Manhattan as possible. She had no problem with the impromptu trip, wanting to spend every moment she could with Clint. After coming to terms with her feelings for her archer during his time being brain-jacked, Natasha was trying to find the right way to tell him, hoping he wouldn't laugh in her face.

She shouldn't have worried.

Clint made her dinner in the small cabin and they actually sat down for a meal for the first time in over a year. She could tell he was agitated, almost busting to say something, when he blurted it out.
'I can't do this.' he said suddenly.

'Eat dinner?' Nat frowned, slightly confused. It was the first time they had said something to each other in hours. He had been preparing their meal in the kitchen, while she had perched herself on the counter to read, just happy to be around her partner.

'This,' he gestured between them. 'Us.'

Nat cleared her throat slightly, a small twinge of panic, rising in her body. 'You um, want a new partner?'

'Oh, God no. How could you- this went better in my head.' Clint sighed, running a hand over his face.
All emotion had drained from her body at this point waiting for his kill shot. Clint sat there silently for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts, waging an internal battle.

Contrary to popular belief, Natasha did actually have emotions. Her control over them made her the spy she was, she just didn't let them show all that often. As much as she hated to conceal her emotions from him, it was a defence mechanism to keep herself safe in this instance. Clint was the only one she was ever truthful with. But love was something she had never had, never really knew what it felt like or what it was until he was taken from her. And her heart couldn't take his rejection; so she hid behind her work mask.

He stood suddenly, pushing his chair back with his legs, and knelt in front of her.

'Look at me, Nat.' he pleaded. She had only heard that soft, soothing tone once before, when he was taking her into S.H.I.E.L.D..

Her head slowly turned to meet his gaze. Clint looked vulnerable, which was odd for the confident archer. It was exactly how she felt, and there was a very good chance that Clint could see right through her cold, expressionless mask. He took her hands in his, thumbs tracing over her skin and he inhaled deeply. 'You're going to kill me, but I can't do this anymore.'

Her hands started to put away from his, but he held tighter. 'Please, just let me get this out.'

Fuck, he's leaving S.H.I.E.L.D.. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Her heart started pounding wildly in her chest. What would she do without him? She didn't trust anyone else – ever. Her life would never be the same. He brought her in, gave her her new life and everything she had come to know. God, without him at S.H.I.E.L.D. there was really no reason for her to stay there. Oh, god! She'd never see him again-

'I think I've fallen for you; well no, I know I've fallen for you.'

Well, that's not what she expected him to say at all. She let out the breath that she didn't know her lungs were holding.

'I want you - all of you. Even that part that is aching to kill me because I'm telling you this, because 'love is for children', and I know this; but fuck, Nat, the only thing I regret about the whole Loki crap, is that I could have died without letting you know that I love you. And I do Nat, I love you. Red ledger and all, and-'

Her lips collided with his, effectively stopping his ramble. He moaned into her, her hands leaving his and wrapping around his strong neck, pulling them closer to each other.

As they broke apart, they panted, foreheads together as they breathed the same air.

That was the first time Natasha had won over her widow training, letting her feel without guilt at the emotions surfacing. The first time she had kissed a man because she – Natasha - wanted too.

'You make me feel like a child, Clint.' she smiled, closing her eyes, revelling in the feel and smell of him. 'You make all the innocence they took from me, fall back into place.' she closed the gap and kissed him again. He sucked her bottom lip between his teeth and she felt the heat pool in her lower abdomen. 'Well, maybe not all the innocence.' she pulled back all the way, looking him in the eyes and cupped his face with her hand. 'I think I love you, too, Barton.'

He grinned at her, pulling her back for a sweet slow kiss, explorative and languid, before the heat and lust took over and their dinner was left forgotten.

'I want to be seduced by the Widow, I want to see why all of these marks are panting after you and instead of the kill, I'm going to fuck you instead.'

'You mean me fuck you.' she countered.

'The semantics can be fought over later. Sex is happening,' he grinned at her.

She laughed at him. He was insatiable. And she was very glad that there was a slit in her dress going all the way to her thigh. It would make it easier to manoeuvre. A rush of heat coursed through her veins as she thought about their later activities, and her body instinctively pressed into him just a little more.

'You've seen it enough times to know what it is I do, Clint,'

'Not on me,' he replied, grazing his fingers gently along the sheer fabric on her waist.

'Ok,' Natasha said, a little too breathless for her liking. Damn him for cutting through her icy exterior. 'I'm going to powder my nose, grab me a glass of whatever and wait for me here.'

His fingers dug into her hip and he bent to kiss her cheek. 'Can't wait,' he said hotly on her skin.

Nat sauntered off to the ladies room, putting an extra sway in her hips, knowing he was watching her leave, and that other men in the room would undoubtedly have noticed her too, though there was only that one she wanted staring at her arse.

Taking mascara out of her purse, she touched up the makeup, taking her time and minding her own business, when she heard her name being spoken by another woman, making her way to the bathroom. Slipping into a cubicle, Natasha waited for the voice to become clearer, until the woman was standing in front of the mirror Nat was just left.

'I don't know what Barton sees in her. He could do so much better,' the catty woman said. Nat recognised the voice immediately. This woman had practically been throwing herself at Clint since his first day (she was told by Clint himself, and other reliable agents), and had been a thorn in Natasha's side since the moment Clint had brought her in. And Clarissa Mason didn't like being told no. Clint was a very handsome man, and it was normal for women to appreciate that, but this... thing didn't know when to quit.

'Just give it up, Clarissa,' that was Maria Hill. Why was she talking to the uber-bitch? 'Clint has said no to you from the beginning, before Natasha even turned up, and you don't even have any proof that he's into her.'

'They're always together.'

'They're partners.'

'I don't care, I want him, I'll have him, and there's nothing she can do about it.'

It took everything Nat had to stifle the laugh rising in her chest.

'You're kidding right?' Maria scoffed. 'She's an Avenger, a Black Widow. The Black Widow. She took on the Hulk and survived. What makes you better than that?'

And there was the Maria Natasha knew.

'We shall soon see when I go home with Clint tonight and she doesn't.'

Natasha thought this moment was the perfect time to flush the toilet and come out of her cubicle, small smile curling at her lips, satisfied with the horrified look on Mason's face and the restrain on Maria's.

Clarissa had more makeup on than a cheap whore in Amsterdam and the shortest dress she could possibly find - it was a classy function and she was dressed like she was going clubbing - badly. Her face was priceless, though. Even with all of the makeup on her face, Nat could see the blood drain away.

Maria, on the other hand, looked like all of her Christmases had come at once, she was that gleeful. Oh yeah, Maria had played her. Natasha felt pride in her chest for the woman. She wasn't normally a field agent, but damn, with a little more practice (and being let out of the office more often) Hill could be an amazing asset for S.H.I.E.L.D. to have.

'Hill. Mason.' she greeted coldly. Natasha had a reputation to up hold, of course. She washed her hands, and pulled her skirt aside a little, showing the thigh holster for her knife, adjusting it a little threateningly.

'Romanoff,' Clarissa said quietly, packed up her small makeup bag and was out of the bathroom at the speed of light.

'I smell a set up,' Nat smirked, the icy exterior had melted away.

'I saw you head in here,' Maria giggled. 'I mentioned how good Clint looked in a tux and she took the bait. If only I had a camera!'

Natasha laughed at her friend's sneakiness. The two had bonded over the fact they were the highest ranking women in S.H.I.E.L.D. – apart from the council members – both stubborn, tough and had cold exteriors, but warm hearts; the two got on like a house on fire. Maria was another person that could bring out the best in Natasha, sometimes making her act like a teenager. It went against all of her Red Room training, but over the years, that tug at the back of her head had started to dissipate, letting her enjoy the small things in life. Giggling was something Natasha found she did around Maria and Clint, they just made it erupt out of her.

'Quick,' Maria said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the exit. 'I wanna see her get shot down.'

Clint was standing where Nat had left him, two glasses in hands filled with clear liquid almost to the brim. She smiled; he knew how she liked her drink. Vodka with a shot of more vodka and a large amount of it. Basically give her a bottle and a long straw and Natasha was a very happy woman.

The two agents watched as Clarissa made her way to Clint, looking like she was on a catwalk (and doing a terrible job of it) and attempting to look sexy. Nat saw the small grimace cross his face, but it was gone in an instant.

'God, he hates her.' Maria said next to her, obviously seeing his expression too.

A fake smile was on his lips as he greeted her. Nat saw her hand reach out for one of the glasses on his hands when he pulled it back.

'This is for someone else.' Nat repeated to Maria as she read Clint's lips.

Clarissa sidled up to him more, attempting to allure him with her... assets, and if she thrust her chest out anymore, he'd probably lose an eye.

'Clarissa, for the last time, no.'

The back of her head shook, like she was disagreeing with him, trying to convince him to take her home. His eyes rolled and focused on Maria and Natasha. To a normal person, the two women looked like they were huddled together having a quiet chat about something, eyes darting around the room as they talked, focusing on certain people in the process. He knew better though, and glared slightly.

'Busted.' Maria murmured.

Natasha just laughed, keeping her gaze locked with Clint's.

'Look,' she read. 'If I wanted you, don't you think after all these years I would have done something about it? No, I'm not playing hard to get, just leave me alone!'

Clarissa stormed off in a huff.

'Do me a favour before you guys sneak out for some nookie, walk past her with him draped all over you to let her know you win.'

'I'll see what I can do. Go back to Fury.' Nat said, nodding towards her superior, two glasses in hand, waiting for somebody. 'He looks lonely.'

'Shut up,' Maria sang with a smile on her lips, as they parted ways.

Clint had turned away from her, their game starting up now that Clarissa had been disposed of.

This was going to be fun.

'Excuse me, Mr Whedon-' her thick Russian accent flowed over her tongue as she tapped Clint on the shoulder. Clint turned and she saw the want behind his eyes. He loved it when she spoke Russian or put on her accent. This would be better than when she did this for work, because she knew everything that made him tick, made him turned on and knew how to use that to her advantage.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I seem to have wrong person.'

'That's perfectly fine, Miss...?' he asked, giving her a charming smile, the one she loved. Ok, so maybe he knew what made her weak at the knees.

'Call me Irena,' she purred.

'Aaron. It seems my friend has gone and left me, would you care for a drink?'

'My mother said never to take drinks from handsome strangers,' Clint took a sip from one and handed it to her, a show of good faith that he was being honest about his intentions. Well, as honest as a man can be in offering a woman a drink.

'But we're not strangers, Irena. I told you my name, you told me yours.'

She laughed a little giddily, all staged of course, but this is how he wanted it.

'I suppose. You seem trustworthy.' She took the glass from him, brushing her fingers against his gently and slowly sipped on it, never leaving his eyes. When she finished, her tongue traced her bottom lip, making sure all the droplets of vodka were gone before giving him a sultry smile.

'So, where are you from?' he asked, keeping up the ruse.

'From Russia. A very small town outside of Moscow. You wouldn't know of it.'

'I hear it's beautiful there, much like the woman in front of me.'

'You flatter me,' she said, running her hand down his arm, feeling all the muscles below the material; ones she had felt so many times before, but would never resist touching when she had the chance.

'I only speak the truth, you are breathtaking.'

'Your wife should not hear you speaking to women like this. You barely know me.' Natasha hummed, getting right into his personal bubble. His hand touched her side gently, guiding her into his body.

'I don't have a wife,' he smirked, lowering his face to hers.

'Then who was the blonde woman you were speaking to before? You two seemed to have a fight, yes?'

'Not my wife,' he laughed, his breath warming her face. 'But you have been watching me.'

'It's hard not to. You're a very, very handsome man.' Nat said suggestively, looking up to him through her eye lashes. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips before she spoke again. 'But I thought I might come over, and see if you needed company. A man like yourself should not be alone.'

'That I do. You are much more interesting that her. Much more beautiful too.' He said softly and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It was very Clint-ish and a break in their game. Natasha knew that was all Clint and not his 'Aaron' persona.

Wait, who was seducing who here?

The blush that was rising on her face was entirely her own; still marvelling in the fact that he thought of her as the most beautiful woman alive. He had told her that too many times she had lost count.

She was getting bored of this now, and the rise in temperature and pulling in her lower stomach had her wanting him. Fuck this, she thought. 'I find it hard to believe that you are not married, or have a... willing woman on your arm.' Natasha said suggestively.

And just like before, Clint being the man he was, closed the small distance between them, taking her arm and wrapping it around his. 'Oh, but I do, it seems. Unless, you are not willing?'

Natasha reached up and kissed his cheek, very close to his mouth, and moved to his ear.

'I am very willing... to do anything thing you want,' she whispered hotly.

A small moan escaped from his mouth as she gently bit down on his ear lobe. As she moved away from him, she could see his eyes had darkened immensely since their conversation had begun. They both had worked the other up enough, and he seemed to be fully satisfied with her actions.

'Would you care to dance?' Clint offered.

She downed the glass of vodka in one go, enjoying the feel of the warmth tricking down her throat. 'I think I have another dance in mind,' she said, no longer wanting this ruse to continue. This had been a tease not only for him, but for her also. 'A horizontal one.'

His shit eating grin, spread on his face as he took her hand and pulled her towards one of the door leading to other parts of the building. She tugged on his arm once; he stopped immediately and went back to her side.

Natasha nodded to Clarissa, leaning against the wall, glass in hand, watching other people laugh and dance. Clint scoffed, knowing the battle that had been going on between the women, well, the one sided battle. Clarissa never stood a chance.

Cold eyes met Natasha's, then flashed to Clint who was now kissing the side of her neck, pushing his erection into her backside. Natasha smirked and raised an eyebrow, 'I win', it said. The pair disappeared into the crowd, leaving a gaping Clarissa behind them.

Natasha pushed every door she could find in the empty hallway, desperately trying to find an empty room. Finally finding an open one, she was pushed inside and slammed against the door as it closed.

Clint's lips attacked hers, sucking and licking as he stole breath from her. He parted from her lips, and started on her neck.

'This would be the part where my partner shoots you.' She breathed heavily, back in her American accent.

'I'm not suicidal. I have too much to live for. You being at the top of that list,' he managed, slipping his hand in the slit of her dress, his fingers finding her heat in seconds. His hand slipped away and grabbed the knife sheathed on her thigh and threw it at the adjacent wall, without even taking his lips away from her skin. God, that was a turn on. The blade sunk into the dry sheet, and his hands slipped back between her legs. He always took her weapons off her, though it wasn't that he thought she would snap and slit his jugular while they had sex – much like her namesake – but rather that she was truly naked without any of her weapons, and only Clint got to see her like this. She removed the gun from his waist and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor, not caring where it ended up.

She laughed and he caught her lips with his again. Slowly Clint made his way down her neck, trailing down her breasts, attacking them through the material of her dress. He kissed down her stomach, his nose grazing as he went. Natasha's head hit the wall and she groaned. Her fingers threaded through his short hair, guiding him to her core.

Clint looked up at her with a smirk before his head went under her silky dress, his lips kissing her thighs before grabbing her leg and hooking it over his shoulder. Fingers stroked her, moving her thong away from her body as he attacked her with tongue and lips suddenly. She cried out in pleasure, spurring his ministrations on more, adding his finger into the mix.

He pushed a digit into her entrance, slowly pulling it out and pushing back in as he sucked her clit.

Nat bucked and writhed against the wall, panting and moaning until with one last flick of his tongue, and one last curl of his fingers, she exploded around him. He licked her gently as she came down from her orgasm, panting and quaking slightly as his tongue ran over her sensitive clit.

Clint's teeth nipped her thigh and she giggled before he reappeared from the curtain of material, a satisfied grin on his face. She grabbed him and pulled him up to her lips, kissing and tasting herself on his tongue. He pulled back, holding up his fingers that were deep inside her glistening with her come and sucked if off his fingers as he stared into her eyes.

'You taste so good,' he said huskily, leaning down to kiss her lips again.

She pushed him back until his legs met the long conference table. He got the gist and sat down.
Nat slipped the tux jacket off his shoulders, throwing it somewhere behind him in the table.
He'd need that later.

Clint's gaze was intent of her face as she undid his tie; his fingers traced patterns on her hip, digging in as she unbuttoned his top button, grazing his skin lightly. He groaned, his head lolling back as her nails raked down the white shirt.

Natasha pushed Clint back so he was lying on the table, her standing between his legs, his erection straining his pants between them. She bent, cupping her lips around his length through the material, starting at the base and sliding along the fabric to the tip. Her fingers worked the zip and buttons as she ran her mouth along his covered dick, making him squirm in anticipation.

Finally his pants gave way, and she freed him, swallowing him in one go.

'Fuck, Tash.' he groaned, his hand coming to the back of her neck. Releasing him from her mouth, she smiled, loving that she had this power over him.

She sucked him, licked him, tugged him, until she couldn't take anymore, and needed him inside her.
Letting go of his dick with a pop of her mouth, Natasha hiked up her dress and crawled over him, satisfied with his panting and clenching of toned muscles.

She felt him kick his pants off him further, hearing them hit the ground made a smirk come to her lips. Natasha leant over him, reaching for his suit jacket. He took the opportunity to lick the tops of her breasts and neck. She moved back a little, placing a hand around the back of his neck, guiding him and keeping his mouth on her skin as she placed the jacket under his head.

'So much better than an arrow through the skull. Your marks don't know what they're missing out on.'

'They do,' she said, reaching between them as she hovered over his body, positioning him at her entrance. 'But you're the only one who gets to appreciate every aspect of me,' she smiled, taking his lips in hers and sinking down on him. They moaned in unison, the sensations so much more intense because of the teasing, and because of the love they shared.

Nat kissed him forcefully as she got used to his size, contracting her inner muscles around him as they made out. The man had stamina. He would make her come at least twice before he gave in himself, so she did everything she could to get him off quicker. It was her game with him. The one time she made him come before she got to two, he actually handcuffed her to the bed and spent hours teasing and tormenting her, making her orgasm another four times. He was more than ready to start another round after her first climax, instead of wanting his own release, he kept working her as punishment. By the time he had uncuffed her, Nat could tell his erection was giving him pain and was more than willing to go another round.

She couldn't walk straight for a week.

The pressure of them joined without movement became too much, and she started to ride him, desperately needing friction. Undoing his shirt, she trailed kissed and bites over his chest as he hung on to her thighs and hips, pushing and lifting, helping her ride him.

She sat up on him, hands splayed on his chest, looking down at him. Fuck, it turned her on to watch him enjoy her, a smile hinting at his lips as he took the sight of his partner pleasuring him.

Clint reached up and unzipped her dress slightly, only enough to free her breasts. He always liked playing with her boobs while she was on top, rolling her nipples between his fingers.

She started to feel the pressure building in her abdomen, her pace increased and her moans had become more vocal. Knowing she would soon release, he sat up putting his arms around her. She gasped at the change of position, but he caught in his mouth as he kissed her, slowing her movements on top of him.

'Clint,' Nat moaned, resting her forehead against his. She started rocking back and forth again, moaning and clenching around him.

'Come for me, Tash,' he breathed on her lips, rocking her back and forth in his arms, pushing her just that little closer to release.

'Ah! Fuck, Clint!' She came, convulsing around him, panting and quaking.

'God, you're gorgeous.' Clint smiled, pushing little pieces of hair out of her face, before kissing her breathless.

'I love it when you come around me,' Clint bit down on her lip, and her body jerked.

He picked her up, switching their places and laying her down on the table. Slipping out of her, Clint bent to taste her again. Nat's back arched on the table as he licked her gently, humming into her heat.

'Clint,' she whimpered. 'Oh, Clint I need you.'

He chuckled, trailing kissed up her lithe body to her lips. Her legs wrapped around his hips. Clint slipped into her in one smooth motion.

'Fuck me, Clint.'

'My pleasure.' Clint smirked, sucking on her breast once before standing up and grabbing onto her thighs.

He slammed into her, and pulled himself out completely, before thrusting into her again. It had her crying out his name and begging for more. He leant down and kissed her again, before finding a rhythm and pounding her into the table.

Desperately she clutched at any part of him she could, his shoulders when he bent low enough, his arms as they gripped her thighs; anything just to hold on for dear life as he pleasured her. She started to clench her inner muscles around him, and he started to moan louder. Smirking to herself, she knew he was close.

'Not fair Nat,' he grumbled between pants.

'Totally fair,' she gasped as he hit just the right spot. 'Oh, god!'

He thrust harder and faster into her, hitting his target every time now he had found it. In seconds she was coming again, gasping and spasming as his pace became erratic. He followed after her, unable to control his hips as he came inside her walls, still convulsing with a mind of their own. Clint sagged on her, though light enough that he didn't crush her.

As they caught their breaths, their eyes focused on the other, a matching sweet smile on both of their lips, both leaning forward for a slow, languid kiss.

Eventually, they moved, clothed themselves and we're ready to head out when they heard voices coming from down the hall outside the office they had consummated. Clint walked over to the wall and pulled out her knife before bending down and delicately placing it back in her holster, kissing her leg next to the leather strap.

He worshipped her, and that made her heart pound harder in her chest.

'It's not right.'

Clint and Natasha both groaned as they recognised the voice. Clarissa. Of course she would come along and ruin the moment.

'This ought to be good.' Clint mumbled to her, standing up and making sure they looked not too much like they had been caught in the act.

'They're S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, they shouldn't be hooking up. It's against regulations.'

'And this has nothing to do with your jealousy?' they heard Maria ask sarcastically.

'No, Agent Hill. You'll see director. They came out here all over each other-'

Clint opened the door wide to show both he and Nat standing in the office, with that sex glow about them. This was better than she could have thought.

'Director,' Clint and Nat greeted.

'I told you,' Clarissa exclaimed, elated to have caught the pair.

'Barton, can you explain?'

'Do you really want the intimate details of how I made love to my wife?'

Maria couldn't stop the burst of laughter coming out of her mouth, and Natasha beamed at the horrified look on Mason's face.

'You really should have done your research, Mason. The director officiated.' Natasha smiled sweetly, taking her husband's hand and walking off.

'Now, let's discuss the reasons as to why you pulled me away from my lovely date,' Nat heard Clarissa gasp again. Ooh, she just caught on that Maria and Fury was an item. 'And your demotion. And your silence on the matter. What do you say, Miss Mason?'

'You think that was a bit too cruel?' Clint asked her quietly when they had got out of earshot.

'Nope. Do you think she'll keep quiet?'

'Nope. But Fury will go all MIB on her and wipe the memories if she doesn't. Maybe send her to Antarctica.'

Nat hummed in agreement. 'Take me home, Mr Barton.'

'As you wish, Mrs Barton.' He beamed, opening the door for her.

His exaggerated yelp was heard down the street as she punched him lightly on the arm.

'Sorry, sorry. Mrs Barton-only-when-we're-in-the-bedroom Romanoff.'

'Better.' she smirked. 'But I'll make you pay for that later.'

'I look forward to it.'

A/N: Reviews gove me a happy :)