Disclaimer: I only own George Mayer, Drew Miller, Dmitri Kedrov, Yevgeny Polzin, Pavlev and Barsilov. Marvel owns everything else.

Natasha woke up. She didn't open her eyes right away, just savored the sensation of relaxing in a warm cocoon of blankets.

She lay motionless for several minutes, reveling in the silence until at last she opened her eyes and looked at the clock on her nightstand. With a jolt of surprise, she realized that it was nine o'clock. She must have slept through her alarm.

Natasha sat up and pushed her blankets off, cursing quietly as the chilly air met her skin. Then she swung her legs over the side of her bed, stood up, and headed into her bathroom to take a shower.

olxlo

When Natasha entered the kitchen, she was met by a welcomingly familiar sight. The other Avengers (with the exception of Thor, who was in Asgard) were all in the kitchen, assuming their familiar stances.

Steve sat at the kitchen table, so focused on the newspaper in his hand that he was forgetting to eat, and his spoonful of damp cereal was suspended in the air between his bowl and his open mouth.

Tony was sitting next to Pepper, chattering on about who knows what between bites of toast, while Pepper sipped her coffee and surreptitiously checked her phone.

Bruce sat across from Steve, making quick work of a bagel, and Clint loitered at the stove, tending a skillet of sizzling bacon, the tantalizing aroma making Natasha's mouth water. A typical Friday morning in Avengers Tower.

Tony paused in his talking when Natasha walked in, wringing out her soaked hair with a towel.

"She arrives at last! We were getting ready to send out a search party," he said by way of greeting.

"Sleepless night," she murmured as an explanation, sliding into the seat next to Steve. She felt Clint looking questioningly at her and she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze.

He raised his eyebrows. Nightmares?

She pursed her lips. Yes.

He sighed sympathetically and turned back to the bacon.

All of the Avengers occasionally had nightmares. It was what you might call an occupational hazard. Because of all they had been through; all the pain, tension, and worry, and that which they were fated to go through again. It was just part of life as an Avenger. Some of them had nightmares more often or more vividly, but all of them did.

The Avengers Tower had many floors, but Clint and Natasha had, through an unspoken agreement, taken rooms on the same floor, and just down the hall from one another. They did this deliberately so that if one of them cried out in the night, the other could go to them.

They knew that the others suffered from nightmares, too, but the two of them shared a special bond; and also, being spies and assassins on top of their straightforward combat, their nightmares tended to be among the more graphic of the teams'. So Clint and Natasha picked rooms near each other, and normally slept with their doors unlocked in case the other needed to come in.

Natasha glanced over Steve's shoulder at the paper. He was immersed in an article that discussed the U.S. economy. She detachedly skimmed it, spotting words like 'taxes', 'political', 'representative', 'candidate'… It didn't surprise her that Steve was interested in it, even though she wasn't.

Clint came forward and set a plate full of bacon on the table. Steve was distracted from his newspaper and joined Bruce in taking a handful, neither of them heeding Clint's warning that 'it's pretty hot.' Natasha took a strip and nibbled at it as Clint slid into the chair next to hers.

"I forgot to put my hearing aids back in after my shower last night," he murmured, looking intently at her. Natasha locked eyes with him, and saw the guilt and concern in his. He was afraid she had cried out in the night and he hadn't heard her.

She shrugged. "Well, that's okay. It was just the usual, you know. Red Room."

"Was it pretty bad?" Clint asked anxiously.

She gave a noncommittal shake of her head. "Nah. I probably didn't make a sound. It was just enough to keep me up, so that's why I slept in.

Clint hmmed thoughtfully.

Natasha stood up to get herself a drink. In reality, her dreams the night before had been terrifying. She was still haunted by memories of Clint when Loki had been manipulating him; his merciless, icy blue eyes, his cold, emotionless exterior, and, mostly, the hatred she saw in his eyes when they fought. Hatred for her. She had never seen that before. And she never wanted to see it again.

But she did see it again, in her dreams. She saw him, eyes icy and full of hate. Coming towards her where she lay powerless. Preparing to kill her, "slowly, intimately, in every way he knew she feared," just as Loki had said.

She also had dreams that her enemies were coming to kill her, and ones about the Red Room at KGB. But the ones about Clint were far worse, because he was not an enemy with a reason to kill her. He was a friend. And that was the kind of dream she'd had the night before.

But there was no point telling Clint that.

Actually, based on the working of his jaw as she returned to her spot next to him, he had probably guessed anyway. They knew each other too well to be fooled by lies.

"So who's going in today?" Natasha asked aloud, hoping to distract Clint from his guilt.

"Pepper wants me down at Stark Industries today, so I guess you guys are gonna have to get by without me," Tony replied, filling a saucer with bacon.

"We'll do our best," Natasha said dryly.

"I'm gonna be down there for a little while," Bruce said. "How 'bout you, Nat?"

"Probably," she replied, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Probably?" Clint repeated. "I take it you haven't checked your text yet."

She frowned. "Not yet. Why?"

"Fury wants to meet us at eleven. He didn't give much detail, but it sounds pretty urgent."

"A mission?" Natasha asked hopefully.

"Looks that way."

Natasha pulled the collar of her t-shirt down over her shoulder. She lightly traced her index finger over a faint white line on her shoulder, courtesy of a serrated knife blade. "Right on time. I'm just about healed up from our last one."

"Me, too," Clint said. He glanced at the clock on the stove. "And it looks like we've got… just under half an hour to get over there."

Natasha glanced at the clock to confirm his words. "Crap." She grabbed a handful of bacon. "I'll be ready in ten," she said, heading out of the kitchen.

"K, meet me downstairs. I'm driving!" Clint called after her retreating back.

The Avengers in the Tower... Clint and Nat getting ready to go on a mission. Stereotypical Avengers story. Right?

Or is there more to this than meets the eye? Stay tuned...

Reviews are like water in the desert. Sweet, refreshing, and imaginary, because this story doesn't have any yet. You're welcome to change that! :)