<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/pcUYv.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Natasha Romanoff<br/><strong>Title:</strong>Black Widow<br/><strong>Locale:</strong>Stark Tower: Landing Pad<br/><strong>Time:</strong>7:28 pm, Eastern<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Clint<br/><hr/><br/>Lowering her head slightly, Natasha cast Clint a sideways glance that clearly demonstrated how unamused she was, her nails scraping lightly against the top of the parapet as she dragged them backwards. She could see that he was tensed and weary as he might have been during an assignment where his life was on the line, but even the signs of that were barely discernible; considering the unfiltered verbal lashing that she'd given him, he remained irritatingly calm and composed.<br/><br/>The interrogation that followed was even more upsetting to her. Did he think that because she was currently obligated to call him a colleague that they were also friends?<em>Is that why he dragged me into this mess instead of finishing me when he had the chance?</em>Natasha wondered. Or was the frustratingly stoic marksman expecting even more than that to develop between them? She'd suspected it at times in the past, and - bizarrely enough - even considered the possibility of something happening with Clint in the past, but it had never gone anywhere past that.<em>It was just depression and loneliness, nothing more,</em>she told herself, just another byproduct of the thinly veiled cage which she'd been dropped into.<br/><br/>"You want to know what I'm not telling you?" Natasha pushed herself away from the wall and slowly inched her way over until she was standing closer to him, close enough for him to make out the venom-laced whisper that followed. "I don't tell you<em>anything</em>," she practically hissed the final word. Natasha was determined to let him know that she didn't need him, that she didn't need anyone.<br/><br/>She put a hand around his arm just above the elbow and spun him around, firmly but, surprisingly, not ungently, so that his lower back was pressed against the barrier again while they stood face to face, perhaps an inch at most separating them from one another. Something that might have been a flash of vulnerability manifested itself upon Natasha's face and danced fleetingly within her pale blue eyes before dissolving into the night.<br/><br/>Her eyes froze and hardened into ice again, but this time they glinted with a different brand of aggression than before, and there was something else too...<br/><br/>"...But, maybe sharing wouldn't be such a bad idea," Natasha picked up from where she'd left off, only now her voice was smooth and searing like a well aged shot of bourbon.<br/><br/>Her hand glided from Clint's arm over to his chest before stopping over his heart. Natasha listened to it beat through her palm, time almost seeming as if it had been put on pause while she and Clint lingered in a moment which was as dangerous as it was intimate. Their gazes clashed like blades in a duel. One good push was all it would take...but that wasn't what she was thinking about anymore.<br/><br/>After all,<em>needing</em>and<em>wanting</em>were two very different things.