The Los Angeles Operation

Eleven

Clint woke up to the sound of a gun cocking. He groaned slightly and rolled over onto his back. He was exhausted. Clint forced his eyes open.

Natasha sat on the foot of her bed, cleaning her Glock 23. He looked at the digital clock next to the bed. It was 7:26.

“What are you doing?” Clint asked groggily.

“What does it look like I'm doing?” Natasha replied in a voice that clearly showed her annoyance.

Clint sat up to get a better look at the object in her hand. “Cleaning a gun.”

“Obviously.”

“Why?”

She gave him a look. “Because it needs to be cleaned. And I'd rather have a clean pistol when I'm fighting.”

He laughed. “You're not going to be doing any fighting, Tasha. Not on this mission, at least.”

She looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re not fighting. Not with that wound.”

“I’m fine, Clint. Stop worrying about me.”

“I will never stop worrying about you.”

She stood up and walked to the dresser. He noticed how stiffly she walked. He sat up on the side of the bed, watching her.

“What’s the problem?” she asked.

“Your stubbornness.”

She turned to give him a frustrated smile, but it turned into a wince as she twisted her side. She tried to hide it. She walked back over to the bed.

Natasha clutched her side suddenly and stopped. She stooped and fell forward. Clint jumped up and caught her. She struggled to push away from him but he held her tightly.

“Tasha, calm down! It’s alright!” Clint tried to soothe her.

She gave him a hard shove in the chest and broke out of his arms. “I’m fine!” she snapped. “I don’t need your help!”

Clint looked at her. This wasn’t like her. She could be pretty stubborn and self-assured, but not like this.

“Tasha… what’s wrong with you?” Clint asked, his voice a whisper.

“Nothing!”

Clint took a step towards her. She took a step back.

“Natasha, what happened? This isn’t like-”

Morse walked in the room just then. Clint had completely forgotten about Barbara. She looked at the two of them, and then smiled. “I half expected you both to be making out or something. I heard you made up.”

Clint didn’t know whether to laugh at the comment or tell her to shut up. “You clearly don’t know us, then.”

“I guess not. So, what’s the plan for today?”

“We find the terrorists and beat the crap out of them,” Natasha replied.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that.”

“It is easy, if you can keep your mind on the game.” Natasha glared at Clint.

Clint smiled slightly and gave her a meaningful look. “Well, maybe I’ve got more important things on my mind right now.”

“More important that saving lives?” Natasha asked.

“Maybe.”

Morse rolled her eyes. “You two assassins need to keep your heads in the game.”