With the disclaimer that life is kicking my ass there are still 15 minutes in Wednesday, today's submission is from folie_lex.

Send your unfinished fic to bc.unfinished@gmail.com.

Rating: PG-13
Warnings: This author has chosen not to use warnings.
This is the part that he hates. When he’s so far away, he has this feeling that she’s exposed and no matter how brilliant she is at her job and how alert and quick he is he will not be able to cover her in time in case she does need it. The way the sleazebag she’s “entertaining” tonight casually slips the small pills into her wine class, without her noticing merely proves him right and some form of fear takes over him.

~ ~

This is the part that drives her insanely mad. The careless way he can compromise a mission, to keep her safe. She knows it’s a bit ungrateful of her, seeing as it is this line of his thinking that has her owing him her life. Even so she can’t control the flash of anger that goes through her when the arrow throws her glass off the balcony railing.

DeLuci’s bodyguards come rushing in at the noise. She hears Clint over the com telling Coulson that “there’s been a slight change of plans, boss” and asks him to prepare earlier “much, much, much earlier, like 45 seconds from now, earlier” pick up for the target, as one of his arrows swishes barely past her ear and goes through the throat of Goon #1. Tasha spars with the second guy, using a nearby deck chair. She ends the match easily by smashing his knees with it, as another arrow punctures the third bodyguard’s arm to his chest while he’s going for the gun holstered under his jacket.

“Romeo” himself is crawling on all fours to his desk to get his own piece, but the constant rain of arrows is making the task very difficult and dangerous for him. Natasha is hovering over him with what is left of the chair and slams him hard on the head as the stealth quinjet begins to descend on the balcony.

~ ~

This is the part they both dread. That situation where they are both right and they are both wrong and neither can convince the other about the validity of their argument. They generally have no problems resolving any disagreements on the training mat, but in fights like these...

They’re both yelling, at least their version of yelling: Tactical terms are being thrown around with special enunciation (compromised and exposed being the most repetitive by Natasha and Clint respectively); more curt tones and slightly higher volumes than are necessary are being used.

And then comes the moment he regrets. The moment when he’s so frustrated with her, and he’s exhausted by the fight, and that the concern and worry that was burning at the pit of his stomach for the most part of the mission has worn him out, that he says the wrong thing. That she probably just enjoys the danger. That she’d rather not have a partner (who’ll have her back no matter what), as a distraction, so she can go off completing her missions while walking closely to the edge of demise, just like when he first met her. That maybe she’s screwed up so much that a part of her can’t live without creeps like DeLuci leering over her, like she’s some piece of meat.

For her it is the moment where she feels betrayed.

~ ~

This is an image he’ll never forget. The real pain showing in her eyes (it’s a flicker of emotion, present for barely a fragment of a second –because she is a professional - but he catches it anyway). He knows what’s coming next and he doesn’t flinch or move to stop and deflect. He just lets her palm firmly collide with his cheek. The sting on his face is well deserved and he hopes that at least the resounding slapping sound is as satisfying to her as it ought to be.