I do believe this marks the first time I've ever used this particular cuss word in a fic, notably as I don't tend to use it under any circumstances. The circumstances insisted on it, though. :D This was fun to write - I hope you enjoy it!

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In the world of S.H.I.E.L.D., Coy Brunson was known as the Paperwork Ninja, the Paper Terrorist, and/or the person to whom Phil Coulson went when he had questions about paperwork. These skills plus her ability to keep her own counsel were responsible for the fact that for the last two years, Coy had been the personal assistant solely responsible for the insane amount of paperwork generated by Director Nick Fury. In this position, she had contact not only with every element of S.H.I.E.L.D., but with government agencies throughout the world.

Most people would know to stay on the good side of someone like Coy. Bobbi Morse was not most people. A year earlier, the blonde agent had requested a Lamborghini to help establish her cover as a wealthy heiress. She was given a Ferrari with the explanation that even at half the price the less expensive car could accomplish the same goal. Bobbi concluded that the decision had been made by Fury's paper queen (which was true). Unfortunately for Bobbi, on the day she vented to her friends at lunch and called Coy a fat cow, not only did one of the Paperwork Ninja's best friends hear and report back to the executive assistant, so did someone at her own table who liked Coy better than Bobbi. (All of which proved that adults, even those who work at S.H.I.E.L.D., never truly leave high school.)

Coy, being a ninja, did not actively set out to ruin Bobbi's life, although for the next year the agent's expense reports were reviewed with a fine tooth comb and rarely was she given the amount she initially requested. Rather Fury's assistant bid her time, confident that the opportunity to establish true dominance would arise.

Four days after Clint effectively threw her out of his apartment, Nick Fury called Bobbi Morse into his office and formally reprimanded her for behavior unbecoming an agent. The wayward spy had spent much of the previous few days telling everyone she could that Clint and Natasha were screwing each other and everyone in leadership, and that was why the two of them were so successful. Everyone heard about her accusations, and because Coulson had given key people a heads up as to possible behavior to expect from Clint's ex, word got back to Director Fury pretty quickly.

Such things result in paperwork.

When Coy Brunson called her best friend, Lizbeth Tuttle, to come up meet her for lunch, the clerical wizard remembered at the last minute an envelope that she needed to put in interoffice mail. So it was that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best PR flak and unrepentant gossip (the former genius being why the latter character flaw was tolerated) arrived at her friend's desk, Lizbeth found an empty desk rather than Coy. On that desk was a closed folder labeled "Barbara Morse".

Within 24 hours, it seemed that every employee at the agency knew that Bobbi Morse had been reprimanded for being a scorned, bitter harpy. Within 48 hours, the disgraced spy abruptly accepted a deep cover assignment and left the country.

Whether or not Bobbi learned the lesson that secretaries rule the world and one should not piss them off is an excellent question to which the answer could only be guessed.

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Although the objects of her ire, Natasha and Clint were ignorant to the soap opera stylings of Bobbi Morse's life. Thirty-six hours after Bobbi left Clint's apartment, the partners left on assignment to Caracas, Venezuela. The mission was to gather intel on a particular wealthy community in the city. To that end, Natasha was to operate as a wealthy trophy wife on a two week vacation to Venezuela, attending as many parties and functions as possible.

At the best of times, Clint was a bit too talkative on comm. This was not the best of times, and Natasha was about ready to kill her partner with her thighs.

"Oh, my heavens," Natasha told the insipid Venezuelan party girl to whom she was talking, "if I miss any of the good dirt tonight, I swear I'll have to kill someone!"

"Oh, come on, Nat. You know you love me!" Clint laughed.

So far this evening, the man with the eyes in the sky had contemplated the likelihood of aliens in the universe and whether or not they were abducting humans, whether dogs or whales were smarter, and was now on to even stranger topics.

"The dog-faced girl was convinced that unicorns were real and that they could shit rainbows. Wait, would unicorns shit? I should say poop – unicorns wouldn't shit. So yeah, Marla full-on believed that unicorns went extinct because Noah forgot to put them on the ark."

It had been that way for two weeks and no level of threat from Natasha could curb the archer. While his partner had no doubt that Clint was just distracting himself from thinking about his ex-girlfriend, she still spent much of her free time devising forms of revenge. Fortunately, tonight was the final party she had to attend, and she would soon have the opportunity to implement her plans, one of which involved erasing Clint's iPod and replacing it with nothing but Justin Bieber and Carly Rae Jepsen.

"So I've been thinking about what Bobbi said when she accused me of being in love with you."

"Seriously, Tia, there's plenty of time for that!"

"I really hadn't given it any thought. When we first met, I was still hung up on the Queen Bitch. Then I was focused on you not killing me or anyone else and then on figuring out how to work with you as partners."

"I know, right?"

"But what if she was right? What if I got so angry at her asking me to drop you as my partner because I love you?"

"Oh, don't be silly!"

"No, really. Do I love you?"

"What difference does it make, mi negra?"

"Are you kidding?! It makes all the difference in the world! Tasha, are we in love with each other?"

"Oh, Tia, I had no idea you were so funny!"

"We are, aren't we? We're in love with each other! Oh, we are getting into this when you get back tonight."

"I can't wait – it sounds fabulous!"

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Later that night, Clint made his way to their new safe house to find Natasha already there. His partner was sitting on the couch facing the door, legs and arms crossed, staring at him. Had he any doubt before, Clint knew instantly he was serious trouble.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he immediately launched into damage control as he set down his gear and headed towards her.

Still Natasha sat silent.

Clint knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees.

"We got all of the intel we needed, Tasha. I kept things interesting, that's all."

If anything, Natasha's expression grew darker.

"I've been stressed!"

Natasha delicately reached down, picked up Clint's hands and removed them from her person.

"Give me your iPod," she told him.

Clint's eyes widened.

"Come on, that's not –"

"NOW."

Her dejected partner reached into his pocket, pulled out the shiny black MP3 player and handed it to her. She pocketed it and then looked at him.

"Now isn't a good time for us to talk about love."

Clint blinked.

"Will tomorrow be better?"

Natasha gave him the look that deserved.

"You are in rebound mode, Barton, and I am not a rebound."

"No, you're not," he agreed. "Bobbi was!"

"What?" Natasha finally looked something besides irritated.

"Over the last few years, I've fallen in love with you. I didn't realize it, though, until Bobbi tried to make me give you up."

"Put that together in the car, did you?"

Natasha looked away and Clint put his hands back on her knees.

"This isn't a flash in the pan, Tasha. It's not a rebound. It's real, and we both know it. If you want to wait to act on it, I understand, and it's okay, because I'm not going anywhere."

Clint sat back on his heels without taking his hands off his partner, who sat there and looked at him.

After a few moments, Clint started to stand up, saying, "I'm going to get –"

Natasha grabbed Clint's shoulders, pulling his lips to hers and melting into the embrace.

It may be postulated that while attraction isn't a choice, love is. Accurate or not, as Clint's mouth trailed down Natasha's neck and her hands slid up under his shirt, the two of them very firmly acknowledged how much they loved each other, both to one another and to themselves.

Best. Night. Ever.

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EIGHT MONTHS LATER

"Unicorns are delicate, but their rainbows are deadly, Nat, I'm tellin' ya."

"I can't believe you're still going on about this."

"I can't believe we're on the helicarrier on our day off."

Natasha sighed. "Hey, at least when S.H.I.E.L.D. gives annual reviews, they don't kill you if you fail."

Clint shook his head. "I'm amazed the Soviet Union had any long term assets at all. Seriously. How did any of you survive long enough to gain actual experience?"

Natasha was about to reply when the two of them heard a familiar voice in the hallway.

"It was the world's stupidest assignment, I swear. I mean, it wasn't hard – socialite sent to get intel, but –" Bobbi cut off when she walked into the lounge and saw Clint sitting on the couch and Natasha lying there with her legs in Clint's lap.

There was a loaded pause.

"Oh, look," Bobbi shot cattily. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s golden couple. Have you made it official yet? Gotten matching tattoos?"

"Funny," Natasha said, not moving from her comfortable position. "I didn't hear anything about you being a socialite."

"No," Clint chimed in. "From what I heard, you were sent in as a hooker."

Bobbi bristled and Natasha laughed.

"High-priced call girl, Clint!" Natasha clarified. "It's much classier. Especially on such a stupid op."

"You don't know anything about it," Bobbi grit out.

"Well," Clint noted, "we know that if you try to smear our names again, you'll be drummed out of the agency. Right, sweetie?" He patted Natasha's leg.

"Right, honey," the ruthless spy affirmed.

Bobbi looked like she was about to jump the spy pair when her friend put a hand on the blonde's arm. Bobbi paused.

"This isn't over," the spy-slash-prostitute said in what was surely meant to be a threatening tone of voice, but which impressed Clint and Natasha not at all.

"Hell, yeah, it is," said Clint. "Thank all that is good and holy in the world."

His ex grimaced.

"Oh!" said Natasha. "You mean interaction between you and the two of us, not you and Clint's relationship! I recommend that you do consider this over. Because if you don't, we will destroy you once and for all." The Russian's angry look was actually quite terrifying. "Your call."

Bobbi opened her mouth only to be cut off as her friend dragged her out of the room.

Clint pulled Natasha into his lap.

"You are so hot when you're threatening people."

"It's my cross to bear," smiled Natasha as she leaned in to kiss the man she loved. She felt his grin in return.

/fin