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Believe it or not, there are men out there who resist the charm of Black Widow, and that's why Natasha is in this situation right now. She just woke up after being knocked unconscious, locked up God knows where, hands and feet tied up. Natasha's lying on the ground and when she makes an effort to sit up she feels dizzy and her head hurts where she was hit before, almost making her pass out again.

There are footsteps outside and her eyes open wide and fierce as they always are when Natasha faces an enemy, but her expression quickly changes to one of surprise when the door is kicked open by Hawkeye.

"Natasha, are you okay?" He asks frantically, running towards her and kneeling to untie her bounds.

"Yes. What are you doing here?"

"I had my eyes on you since the beginning of the mission. We'll talk later, we have to get out of here before this place blows up." Clint replies, helping Natasha up.

She followed him without another word, her head pounding but she ignored it.

When they arrived Clint's place he fetched the first aid kit before going to his bedroom, Natasha following him. He sat on his bed and she laid down, her head on his lap so that he could examine and clean her wound.

It was always like this. They took care of each other's battle wounds without a word, because neither of them really liked to talk about it. And after both showered - separately - they would lay down watching some crappy show that was on at the moment until they eventually fell asleep.

Clint lived for these moments, touching Natasha after a mission made him more secure that she survived once again, and when they laid down together, even in the silence with little eye contact, it was the closest he felt to her. These were the moments that kept his heart beating, even knowing that she wouldn't be there when he woke up. But it was good, because every time Natasha left he would always wake up with a little note on the bedside table.

I owe you.