Natasha noted that he didn’t offer to demonstrate the pole dancing and only smiled back at him. Not that it was something she particularly wanted to see. She could appreciate the strength and flexibility that went into such a craft, but the negative connotation that went along with it was hard to ignore, especially after seeing first hand on a mission how pole dancers were treated. She would prefer to see Clint on horseback, a picture of beauty and grace.

Letting him mold her body against his, she settled back again and let her eyes close, a soft smile on her face as his breath warmed her neck.

“Now that is a part I would gladly play,” she said, finally letting the accent go. In fact, it was much closer to their real lives than any movie. They fought and they fought hard, and afterwards the buildup of adrenaline sometimes needed an outlet. More than once she had used his body to release the pent up aggression left over. “Why don’t they do that in the movies? Or have the girl seduce Bond, not in the traditional sense, but by being so capable and deadly.”