The Los Angeles Operation

Seventeen

It felt like days has passed before Clint came to check on Natasha. He knocked on her door, then entered. 

He smiled softly but sadly at her. “Hey, Nat. How do you feel?” 

“Alright, I guess.” That wasn’t true. Her leg hurt badly and she had a headache. She was also more than a little ticked off with Clint. 

He walked in the room and closed the door behind him. “Glad to hear it.” He sat down on the edge of her bed. 

“Did you bring my report?” 

“You mean the one Bobbi and I just finished for you?” 

Natasha gave him an angry look. “Darn you, Clint! I needed to do that myself.” 

“Why?” 

“Because all of the hard work happened when you weren’t around, that’s why!” 

Clint was taken aback. “I was only trying to help you, Tasha.” 

“I told Coulson to tell you to bring my paperwork up so I could do it.” 

“Like I’m gonna let you do any reports while you’re in the Infirmary.” 

“You’re not my father. It’s not your job to restrict me.” 

“God, you are annoying tonight.” 

“If you had brought my report like I had asked, then maybe I wouldn’t be.” 

Clint glanced at the clock on the wall. “Okay, I need to go.” 

Natasha grabbed his hand. “Wait! I was hoping that we could talk.” 

Clint frowned. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I wish I could.” 

“Please? There’s something I really need to tell you.” 

Clint stood up. “Can’t it wait?” 

Natasha was a little offended… and surprised. “I… guess it can.” 

“Good. We’ll talk later.” He turned to leave. 

“Out of curiosity, where do you have to be?” 

He didn’t turn to look at her. “I promised Morse we’d start archery training again….” 

Natasha felt like she’d been slapped in the face. “What?” 

Clint turned to face her. “I made a promise, Nat. I’ve got to keep it.” 

“Why did you even come up here?” 

“To check on you.” 

Natasha swallowed hard. Anger boiled inside of her. “Are you taking her out to dinner as well?” 

“Well… kind of.” 

“What do you mean ‘kind of’?” 

“She asked me to come over for dinner. Just as friends, of course. We’re gonna recap on the mission, and I’ll tell her what I thought of her performance.” 

“Wouldn’t it be better if we both did that?” 

Clint hesitated, trying to choose his words carefully. “Not really. She needs someone to give her an unbiased opinion. You’re not mad, are you?” 

“No,” she lied.

“Good. ‘Cause you’ve got nothing to be mad about.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you when I get back from dinner, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

She watched him go. He didn’t look at all reluctant about spending the evening with Morse. Of course, why should he be? He seemed to like her a lot.