The Los Angeles Operation

Ten

“By who?” Clint asked, turning around in his seat again.

“Blue hoodie, dark glasses, sits with a slouch,” Natasha replied. “In the booth next to the door.”

“I see him,” Clint said.

“He’s been watching us since we came in.”

Clint turned back to her. “I knew there was something bugging you.”

“Stop gloating and let’s figure out what to do. It doesn’t look like he’ll be much of a threat, but neither did the Death T.H.R.O.W.S..”

“Neither did what?” Clint asked.

“Never mind. I think we should probably just watch our backs and keep an eye on him for the time being.”

“I agree,” Clint said, seeing the food coming.

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“What?” Clint said defensively.

“Just… you.”

“Come on, you know you love me.”

Natasha gave him and interesting look. It wasn’t the murderous look he had been expecting, or the annoyed look he got so often. It looked more… pained, like she was harboring a secret that hurt her. He looked at her, trying to read into her expression. But try as he might, he couldn’t. He could usually read into her expression easily and tell what she was thinking, but not this time.

“Natasha-“ he was cut off by the food being set before him.

Natasha wiped the look off her face. She knew that Clint had observed her expression. She wondered what he was going to say.

She picked up her fork and began eating. She took a bite of the catfish and made a face. "God, this is awful!"

Clint took a bite and said with his mouth full, "I think it's great."

"You would."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"For someone who looks so ticked you sure are thinking a whole lot of nothing."

She scowled.

"Natasha, please. What happened to you?"

"You should be expecting as much from a monster."

Clint sighed. "I thought we had agreed to put that behind us."

"We did."

"Then drop-"

"Clint, he's leaving," Natasha interrupted.

"What should we do?"

"I'll follow him, you stay here and pay the check."

"No, we're both going."

Natasha stood up. "What about the check?"

"You got a pen?"

"Why does that-"

"Just give me a pen!"

Natasha sighed and handed over her favorite pen. Clint scribbled down on a napkin 'Keep the change', and placed a 100$ on the table. He stood up and handed Natasha her pen back.

"Let's roll."

She rolled her eyes and followed him to the parking lot. Their Sudan was no where in sight.

"Where the heck did our ride go?" Clint asked.

"Hold on," Natasha said, walking over to a red Ferrari. There was a cell phone on the hood. She picked it up and spoke into it, "Hello?"