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She never denied loving him. She just…discarded it.
"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" the god of lies and mischief asked her.
She spoke about love. She spoke about Barton. She did not say how the two connected.
The team wasn't particularly talkative around their shawarma. The Avengers hadn't been a team for long and they were tired and hungry and had little to talk about. Strike Team Delta, a subset of those gathered, just Clint and Natasha, also weren't particularly talkative. She had him back, but they had never needed to talk about all the things they shared in common.
She kept him in her sights as she chewed, content with his presence, that he was alive and mentally with her. He rested his battle-battered leg on her chair and occasionally exchanged comments with her on the little, mundane things that meant nothing. Pass a napkin. My place is probably trashed. Fury wants a report in the morning.
They didn't talk about gods or monsters or recovery. They never spoke of, Glad to have you back. I missed you. I… No, even thought passed that without voicing it. They never spoke of that at all.
Steve wasn't entirely certain what to make of SHIELD, of Clint, of her. They were all liars and spies and competent killers supposedly for the greater good.
Natasha raised her eyebrow coolly when he hovered uncertainly in the doorway to Fury's office.
"Barton won't be joining us today," Fury opened with. "Rogers, your new partner." He gestured toward Natasha.
At the name 'Barton,' she spared the briefest thought toward his next mission, the briefest emotion toward missing him. Steve stared at her for a moment, as if he'd caught the slip in her guard. Then he smiled.
"A pleasure, ma'am."
That made the corners of her lips turn up. "Just Natasha."
"So how long did you work together?"
Natasha studied his work with a practiced eye. "A little lighter touch, Rogers. Lockpicking requires skill, not strength. And if you mean Barton, we still work together when I'm not with you."
"Oh." Steve gentled his touch. "You love him, don't you?"
She drew her eyes from the lock to his face and looked her question. Why would he even bring that up?
He seemed to understand though, even if Clint was usually the only one who could read her face like a book. "Your face lights up when you talk about him."
Natasha opened her mouth, then closed it, then tilted her head in appraisal. She'd underestimated Steve Rogers and let him in closer than perhaps she should have. No one else in the years since she'd joined SHIELD had ever noticed. "Love is for children, Steve."
He dropped the lockpick.
"And you're a better soldier than spy," she added ruefully.
She settled in beside Clint after the longest mission yet. She felt old. She had done the thing everyone at SHIELD used to wonder if she would and Clint used to vow that she wouldn't.
But they didn't talk about that. They didn't say SHIELD is gone or I trust you or I'm glad you're still alive.
Clint handed her the first aid kit and a burrito. "I would've gotten Starbucks, but the line was too long."
Natasha huffed a small laugh and kissed his cheek softly. "You always forget my order anyway."
They smiled.