I Have Some Secrets No One Should Know.
Reblog
8 years ago
♥ 48
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+ bannerandbarton

Breaking In, Shaping Up, Then Checking Out [@banner-and-barton]

banner-and-barton:

inheritorofmemories:

Natasha nods, finger circling the rim of her empty glass idly. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. As far as they’re concerned, I work alone. They’re less likely to recognise me if I take a partner in.” She takes a deep breath, knowing how Clint’s going to react to the next part of the plan. “Or,” she says, taking her new glass with a brief smile at the waiter, “I let them recognise me and get myself right at the centre of operations. You’d be able to get in while they were distracted with me.”

She’s trying to focus on the work, rather than the more personal conversation - it’s easier for her that way, to not be restrained like that. That’s not to mention that she’s already far too personally involved with Clint as it is. Adding a romantic layer to their relationship would only make it worse, no matter what she would prefer.

“No.”, was Clint’s immediate answer as soon as Natasha finished her sentence. “You’re not simply just let them know who you are. So they’re distracted? They might try to kill you, Tasha, I won’t let that happen!”, he said, his voice quiet, so they wouldn’t get too much attention, but still she would hear that he was not okay with that. Really not okay. 
“Please  just… overthink that okay? I’ll gladly help you out with being your partner or if it helps you more a freaking janitor, but don’t try to take this out on yourself.”, he said, knowing that she probably already knew he would be saying this.

He was now thinking about the job, not about Natasha and him. That was just something he should get his mind off, now, before it was too late to do so. 

Natasha sighs, eyes darting about the room as she leans forward. “If it’s the best way to complete the mission, I’ll be doing it,” she tells him, taking a sip from her freshly replaced bottle. “I wasn’t asking your permission, Clint.”

She’s irrationally irritated by his response - she’s been stuck behind paperwork for so long that she’s simply desperate to get back into the field in any way she can. He’s not her minder, as he seems to believe himself to be. “This is my operation, to run as I see fit.”

After a moment, she relents, drumming her fingers on the table. “They won’t kill me. Too much history. They’ll want to torture me first. That’ll buy enough time for retrieval.”