Short One Sorry All

You're bleeding."

Natasha glanced indifferently at the gash on her left shoulder. "Just a scratch."

Clint nodded. "Be sure to get it taken care of."

"Yeah."

Tony Stark watched his two teammates with careful eyes. They were always like this.

The words they spoke were little, but between all the side glances and pass-by touches, Tony knew. They were both very stupid. He was not saying this because he obviously had the higher intellect, but because it takes two very stupid people to be together all the time and not realize that they are in love.

Their love is not the normal kind of love, of course-they are both so odd that normal love is impossible. Between them, it is the love of great denial, it is the always-waiting-for-you-to-kiss-me, but-neither-makes-a-move kind of love that is bothering Tony terribly.

Clint returns with a tin box that looks like a makeshift first-aid kit. He walks over and hands the box to Natasha. "Before it gets infected, you should probably clean it now."

Natasha nods.

And then Clint went to sit on the far side of the flying aircraft.

And Natasha tended rather unproductively to her wound.

And Tony couldn't help but say, "You two really need to get a room."