The Los Angeles Operation

Eight

Morse walked into the jet several hours later. Barton and Romanoff were already there, Clint sitting in the pilot's seat and Romanoff in the co-pilot's seat. The air between them was tense and full of frustration. 

"I'm ready," Morse said. 

It was a mark of how upset Natasha was that she didn't make a smart comment about Barbara's lateness. 

"Alright, sit down and strap in," Clint said. 

Morse obeyed. Clint started the jet and took off. Several minutes of uncomfortable silence passed. The only sound was the engine. 

Clint glanced at Natasha. Her eyes were slightly red. He cursed himself for saying the things that he did. He hated seeing her that upset. But he hated the fact that he had made her like that even more. 

He took a deep breath and reached over to take her left hand. He had barely grazed it when she jerked her hand away. She wouldn't make eye contact. 

"Tasha," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.” 

She turned away and stared at the window, obviously still too mad at him to say anything. 

Clint sighed. “I shouldn’t have said the things I did, and I am so, so sorry for it.” 

Still, Natasha said nothing. She was fighting back tears and she was not going to let him see it. 

Clint hesitated before going on in a voice so low that only Natasha could hear him. “Nat, you’re all I have, and I love you more than anything. I would give my life for you without a thought. Please forgive me. I can’t go through this.” 

Natasha still didn’t say anything. She was furious with him and the farthest thing from her mind was forgiving him. She didn’t care if he got down on his hands and knees; she was not going to forgive him. She was done with forgiving. 

Clint glanced at her. “Did you hear me?” 

Still, she did not respond. 

Clint sighed deeply. He hadn’t expected that to work. He knew that he needed to let her cool down, but he wasn’t sure that he could wait that long. She was his friend and (he was not ashamed to admit it) the love of his life, but above all she was his partner. He had worked with her for years on more missions than he could count; if they were at odds, it didn’t look good for this mission. He needed her on his side to give input and insight where he had none. There was no way that he could do this without her. 

He looked at her and saw her shaking slightly. He didn’t know why she was shaking, but he guessed it was in anger. 

He looked at her and saw her shaking slightly. He didn’t know why she was shaking, but he guessed it was in anger. He couldn't blame her for it, either.

"Where are we staying?" Morse interrupted Clint's thoughts.

"I don't know," Clint answered. "We'll find that out when we find the SHIELD car."

Barbara could tell that no one felt much like taking, so she took the hint and shut up.

The flight was a short one, but it seemed to take a life time in the tense silence.

*    *    *    *    *

About an hour later they landed the jet on a privet run way a few miles out of Los Angeles. There was a black Sudan waiting for them, the keys already in the ignition. They tossed their things in the trunk. Natasha sat in the back to make sure she wouldn't have to deal with Clint on the way to the hotel. She hoped that she wouldn't be forced to interact with him.