As some of you wonderful reviewers have requested, this is the second/original version of Hell Hath No Fury. More sap and all around fluff, exactly how I like my fics.
Lol, I have to apologize for my mess up with the spelling of Furry which should be and now is, fury. *blush*
Hell Hath No Fury…(The sappy edit)
"What the hell is going on Nat!"
Clint burst into her room, eyes blazing, muscles straining against the fitted leather of his mission suit, looking ready to kill something or someone at any moment. Overall a very appealing sight. If he had been any other man he'd be dead right now considering she was cleaning her guns, but as it were, this was not an unusual occurrence between the two SHIELD agents.
She had been expecting him.
Still Natasha took a moment to admire the picture he made before calmly addressing his accusation. "I have no idea what you're referring to."
"Like hell you don't! I come out of a debriefing with Fury and find out Bobbi's in the infirmary. Oh, and you're the one that put her there. So I repeat what the hell is going on?"
Pacing the room like an enraged tiger, he was making her decidedly nervous. It was only years of training that allowed her face to remain carefully blank.
Knowing it would aggravate him, she threw a coy glance over her shoulder. "Who said I put her there?"
"Oh I don't know, maybe the half dozen agents that witnessed you kicking her ass!"
This was completely out of character for Natasha. His fiery partner was known for her short fuse but she had never gone off on a fellow agent without a reason. To Clint's knowledge Bobbi and Natasha were little more than passing acquaintances. He couldn't fathom what could have provoked his Tasha into beating the blond within an inch of her life.
A practiced sigh passed her painted lips. Natasha placed her beloved weapon safely back in it's case and turned to face her partner.
"Oh well, it was just a misunderstanding. Nothing to worry about Clint." Nat offered with a shrug of her shoulders.
"She looks like a purple Smurf, Tasha. That is something to worry about."
She turned on him, one perfectly sculpted brow arched in amusement. "Dose she now? You didn't happen to get pictures did you?"
"Natasha!" Clint was about to tear his hair out in frustration if she didn't quit with this innocent shit she was pulling. He knew her too well to buy that line.
"What? I told you it was a misunderstanding."
Making for the door, she breezed past him in hopes of escaping before she said something she couldn't take back. Two steps from freedom and he caught her arm in a surprisingly firm grip, yanking her back to stand in front of him.
"Bullshit! What exactly did she misunderstand for you to put her in the infirmary?" The steel gray of his eyes burned into her, demanding the truth. Something in her snapped at that look.
"That she could break your heart and not answer to me about it! That is what she misunderstood. She's lucky I didn't put a bullet in her." The Widow all but screamed.
Wrenching her arm from his lax grip she stalked away from him, least she do something she might regret later. Yeah, like knock that dumbfounded look right off his handsome face, she thought darkly.
"Nat…" Clint trailed off at a loss for words.
Well he hadn't been expecting that.
Clint and Bobbi had been seeing each other; or at least as much as they could between missions, for little over a year. With long ash blond hair, a lean body, tanned skin, and none of the biting wit he was accustomed to, she was the anti-Natasha. Bobbi was exactly what he had been looking for, a distraction. But, like most things in his life, they hadn't worked out. Admittedly, the fact she'd been cheating on him for the last two months of their relationship may have played a large part in their breakup. Overall, he wasn't that torn up about it.
Despite his feelings regarding his ex, he was stunned by his partner's confession.
"Seriously Clint, I wouldn't have killed her. I just maimed her a bit. I promise."
Natasha was a little concerned when her normally unflappable partner all but collapsed on the corner of her bed. She had said too much, her mind raced. Now he would request a new partner and leave her behind all because that stupid bleached bimbo couldn't keep her mouth shut. Going on and on about cheating on Clint, like it was some sort of accomplishment. Bobbi had no idea how lucky she had been to have had Clint. On second thought, Natasha should have shot her, to hell with the consequences.
"Are you alright?"
Concern quickly morphed into annoyance when his shocked mask gave way to a shit eating grin.
"Wait a second here. Do you mean to tell me you did all of this to…defend my honor?"
"Don't flatter your self Barton."
Ignoring her sarcasm, he stalked after her. "I'm shocked Widow. I'm flattered, and truthfully more than a little turned on, but I'm shocked."
Crimson stained her cheeks prettily. Disgust filled her at her body's reaction to his words. She was the Black Widow for heavens sake, master assassin, the most lethal agent in SHEILD, she did not blush.
"Keep it in your pants, Hawkboy. The Mocking Bitch and I had an axe to grind and you just happened to be a convenient excuse." She sneered, hoping he would drop it.
Silence stretched between them, his eyes taking her in, studying her. Stripping her bare with his knowing stare until he saw something lurking in the corner of her eyes. A glimmer of hope sparked within him.
Jealousy, with a strong thread of love reflected back at him.
"I don't think so, Tasha. I think you care about me, maybe even more than you should."
He'd cornered her without her realizing it. Clint watched her moss green eyes darting about the room, almost frightened, looking for any escape. For a second he considered giving her an out, he could do it. Throw out a few witty comments, and act like nothing had happened as he had so many times before.
No dice Nat. He was tired of this game. It was time to dance.
There was a slight trembling in her limbs, a hitch in her breath, she wanted to run. Seeing no escape that didn't end in violence; still a viable option in her opinion, she looked up at him defiantly.
"It's alright Tessa. I'll give you a truth in return." He soothed, boldly stepping into her until their body's aligned from hip to chest. "I was going to break up with her anyways. Do you know why, Nat?"
She wanted to make some sarcastic quip that would wipe that smile right off his smirking face but the words wouldn't come. She had admitted too much and now he had her.
"Because she's not you Natasha, and I was getting tired of pretending she was."
Supple curves sagged against him provocatively. Clint took this as permission to gather her close without fear of being laid flat on his back with a poison tipped dagger held at his throat.
Swallowing back traitorous tears, a rare smile graced her lips at his confession.
"Poor substitute if you ask me, Barton."
"You have no idea…" He trailed off burying his nose in her fragrant curls, in return her deceptively strong arms wound around his neck in a tight embrace.
So this was happiness, she thought in wonder.
Pulling back after a time he gazed down on her breathtaking face, his lungs contracting painfully when she met his eyes with pure adoration shinning back at him.
How did he get so lucky?
"Be mine Natasha Romanoff?" He whispered, caressing her face as if she would disappear with the slightest pressure.
"I always have been Clint."
With that she flipped him onto the bed and proceeded to show him just how good the real thing was.
This was the original version but I felt it was very OOC for Natasha and too sappy for what I was going for. Still, I hope everyone likes the alternative ending. PLEASE REVIEW!