The Los Angeles Operation

Two

Natasha got dressed and grabbed a gun. She walked into the living room to find Clint slowly and carefully removing the bandages. She shook her head and sat down across from him on the couch. She looked at him for a moment, and reached her hand out, touching his.

"Can I help?" she asked softly.

Clint nodded and let her move his hand away. She lightly grabbed the bandage covering the cut on his cheek and pulled it away gently. He winced slightly. The cut was deeper than she had originally thought. There was blood covering the bandage, and the cut didn't look good.

"You need to get this looked at, Clint," Natasha said.

"You're lookin' at it."

She sighed. "I mean by a professional."

"I know what you meant."

Her hand moved down to the cloth bandage around his chest. She gently unwrapped the bandage. The cuts were deeper than they should have been.

"Clint, what happened? Really, what happened?"

"OK, maybe there were more than seven people. And maybe they had knives."

Natasha sighed. "It's a miracle you're still alive."

"Not really. The police showed up just in time."

"And they didn't take you to a hospital?" Natasha asked, surprised.

Clint shook his head. "I made sure I was out of the picture before they could see me. It wouldn't exactly paint SHIELD in very good light, would it?"

Natasha smirked slightly. "No, I guess it wouldn't."

Clint tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. She relaxed slightly. It was incredible that he could calm her down with a single touch.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Natasha looked at him curiously. "For what?"

"For letting me stay here and bloody up your couch. For helping me when you really didn't have to. For making breakfast. For at least acting like you care about me."

"I do care about you."

She noticed the way Clint's eyes seemed to brighten. "You do?"

"No, Clint, I let you stay here for some other reason," she said sarcastically.

Clint smiled. "I didn't realize-"

"I didn't say I loved you," Natasha cut him off, resuming her business-like manner.

The relieved and happy gleam in Clint's eyes faded. "Oh."

The bandages were still in the living room, along with the water and the cloth. Natasha cleaned his wounds quickly and dressed them again. She couldn't help but notice that Clint didn't take his eyes off of her the whole time.

"Is something wrong?" Natasha asked.

"No, I'm just looking at you," Clint replied, innocently.

"Why? It's not like I'm much to look at."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"Natasha... you're beautiful."

"No, Clint, I'm not. You've seen the things I've done; you of all people should know how hideous I am."

Clint rested his hand on her cheek. "Listen to me, Nat. You are beautiful. Not just beautiful, you are the most stunning woman I have ever met, and in more ways than one. You are incredible, Natasha. Don't let anyone, including yourself, tell you otherwise."