Natasha Romanoff | The Black Widow (
study_in_scarlet) wrote2013-08-11 07:32 pm
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Dancing in the Dark (for
farmboyhawk)
They didn’t get a lot of time off together, at least not enough to make a trip away worthwhile, so for this one weekend they decided to stay in the city and play tourist for the day.
They had started with a walk through Central Park before grabbing an early lunch at one of the city’s many street vendors and then wandering through the American Museum of Natural history. Natasha found the Hall of Minerals fascinating while Clint had gotten a kick out of all the dinosaur bones. They both enjoyed laying under the big blue whale with all the normal people.
Afterwards they went to a nice restaurant for supper, blending into the crowd of normal couples as best they could and Natasha actually forgot if she was playing a role or being herself as they finished their wine and shared their desserts.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely as they left the restaurant, stepping back into the cool night air. Nearby a busker played guitar and sang with surprising melody and soul, barely seeming to notice as people threw change into his open case, so caught up was he in his music.
They had started with a walk through Central Park before grabbing an early lunch at one of the city’s many street vendors and then wandering through the American Museum of Natural history. Natasha found the Hall of Minerals fascinating while Clint had gotten a kick out of all the dinosaur bones. They both enjoyed laying under the big blue whale with all the normal people.
Afterwards they went to a nice restaurant for supper, blending into the crowd of normal couples as best they could and Natasha actually forgot if she was playing a role or being herself as they finished their wine and shared their desserts.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely as they left the restaurant, stepping back into the cool night air. Nearby a busker played guitar and sang with surprising melody and soul, barely seeming to notice as people threw change into his open case, so caught up was he in his music.
no subject
Clint got out of his shirt before he started fumbling around with the cream, to not get a new garment dirty half an hour in. Following her provocations from before, he hang it up on a hook on a door neatly, so she would see it from her hiding place behind the curtain and got to work then.
At least on his hands he could still rely, no matter how drained he felt after another restless night. There was less trembling than he would have thought, so he made himself look at least half way human again, without leaving any blood.
Some of these lines around his eyes and lips that had settled deeper after New York showed much more clearly now, but he'd have to live with that. He hadn't been Mr Helicarrier 2013 even before taking a ride on the Asgardian mental roller coaster.
"Need any help in there while I'm on it?"
He just couldn't let it be, teasing her a little.
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Drawing her eyes quickly upwards to meet his in the mirror when he spoke, Natasha gave him her most innocent look. “Well, there is this one spot on my back that I just can’t seem to reach,” she said. Two could play the teasing game, which was how it always ended up escalating.
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Clint quickly washed the last of cream of his chin and got out of the rest of his clothes without to join Natasha in the small cabin. Pulling her close softly, he nudged her wet hair with his nose, appreciating one of his favorite smells, while his hands started wandering up and down her back.
"So... Where was that evil little spot?"
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Winding her arms around his neck, she rested her head comfortably against his chest and let out a content sigh. “A little higher,” she said, closing her eyes and relaxing against him.
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He just held her gently against him while his hands cupped her delicate form, wandered upwards, fingertips meeting right between her shoulderblades in small, harmless rubs while the water washed over them.
"Better?"
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“Mm, much better,” she replied as Clint rubbed that hard to reach spot on her back. This was nice, just holding each other and being together, like the bath had been last night. Raising her head Natasha rubbed her cheek against his and smiled. “Smooth.”
Sometimes she liked the scratch of his stubble against her skin, but others she preferred when he was cleanly shaven. As long as he didn’t grow a full beard she wasn’t likely to complain, except to tease him.
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Chuckling, Clint caressed his chin against her forehead and rested his hands on her waist to softly step away from her before the nearness and the atmosphere of the warm water playing between them could lead to something more after all.
"Sorry, didn't mean to... We should be good little grown ups and start packing, huh? Guess I just needed to catch up a little. Just haven't had you for too long."
He flipped a strand of her damp hair out of her face and caught the drop of water threatening to run into her eye with his lips, leaving a kiss on her brow.
"If I'm distracting you, I could offer to take a walk around the block, though."
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“It’s fine,” she said, offering a soft smile. Running her hands over his shoulders, she slowly dropped them back to her sides before she could get carried away exploring his body. “I won’t be much longer.” Unable to resist she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before making a shooing motion with her hands. “Could you get my suitcase down off the top shelf in my closet? And if you want to look into some flights my laptop is in the living room, unless we want to ask Pepper for use of their private jet.”
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Clint forced himself to step out of the cabin and quickly dried off, not bothering with more than his pants for now, though... A little teasing was in order after all.
"But I don't think I'm in a mood for Stark's idea of humor right now. Maybe I should ask them to give me back my own baby."
And there it was already again, the ever lasting bitterness- he wasn't even sure he would have wanted to fly that jet again. No matter how many years he had spent to polish that small Falcon from a wreck into a quinjet engine-equipped beauty. But he doubted he would ever be able to forget what he had last used it for. Or what had happened there.
It was the simple anger that S.H.I.E.L.D. still kept their hand over his property even so many months after, that stirred his anger.
Scheduled flight it was, then.
Cracking his way into Natasha's laptop after getting that suitcase, wasn't exactly hard. The password was one of the codes common between the two of them to communicate. At least that had him smiling.
And the journey from JFK to Catania had only one stop, that sounded bearable. The options were quickly sought out, with either leaving right before dawn... which would bring them away before anyone could ask. Or early afternoon. Which would mean less trouble and much more possibilities to get held up.
Clint leaned his head back against the back rest with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. Maybe he should better keep in mind that they were not gone yet.
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Finishing her shower, Natasha dried off and wound her hair up in the towel before pulling on her robe. It didn’t escape her notice that Clint’s shirt still hung where he had left it earlier and she shook her head with a slight smile. Gathering up the clothes she had borrowed from him, she padded into the bedroom in bare feet, calling out to him as she went, “Find anything?”
It was tempting to slip back into Clint’s clothes, to surround herself in him, but she folded them carefully and set them on her bed beside the suitcase he had obediently retrieved for her. He had said it would be colder in the evenings, so she might have to pack a little of everything.
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There was no reason to believe, she wouldn't do anything to get them away from here tomorrow. If they failed, it wasn't her fault. He shouldn't make it his in giving up the mission before it even had begun. Worst that could happen was the little amount he still had left of reserves shrinking down for nothing.
"JFK 4 pm, all ready to go on your command", he shouted to the bedroom, violently pushing all hesitation aside.
"Is that pink you're wearing, Tash'?"
He couldn't help but grin.
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“You know I don’t wear pink,” she called back, even though that was precisely what colour her bathrobe appeared to be. He didn’t need to know that it was because a red sock had gotten left in the washer that one time, and he certainly didn’t need to know that she kind of liked it pink.
“Book it.” No hesitation, no question. This was what Clint needed so this was what they were doing. She would convince Fury if she had to threaten insubordination to do so, though she doubted it would come to that. Fury wasn’t always to be trusted, but he had a special soft spot for Natasha and if she had to use that she would.
Slipping a pair of panties on under her robe, she neatly placed a week’s worth into her suitcase, assuming there would be laundry facilities they could use.
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Clint waited until he had all confirmations in his e-mail account on his phone before he closed the laptop and settled back in the sofa with crossed legs. Half and half he waited that his phone would ring and Fury or Hill would be questioning what he was doing. He really wouldn't have been surprised if his cards and account were monitored. But either the news didn't make it to the head office so fast or maybe they would be awaiting at his place with cuffs.
Yeah, well, he did begin to develop some kind of black humor about this.
"Hey, I didn't say it doesn't fit you."
Watching her from the corner of his eye he got ready to duck from a perfectly aimed stiletto, just in case.
"As long as you're not secret owning some Hello Kitty-lingerie..."
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Packing a black bikini, she rooted through the back of her closet to find a few sundresses, something she didn’t often indulge in, and whisked them into her suitcase before Clint could catch even a glimpse.
“And if I was?” She wasn’t. That cartoon kitty was detestable. “Keep that up and you won’t be seeing any of my lingerie.”
Which reminded her. In the back of her drawer she had a few rather special pieces that she proceeded to pack as well. If Clint had any reservations once they got there about ‘running away’, then she would make him forget them pretty quickly.
no subject
A little dozing, with his head against the back rest and his eyes closed, helped him find some energy back after the draining night, while Natasha was busy. The quiet, well-known noise of her smooth movements blended in with the atmosphere of an apartment similar to his. Seldom used but marked by years of ownership. A thin layer of dust, the faint note of her favorite perfume, lots of coffee.
He actually wouldn't mind if there was just a hint of this at his place from time to time. Well, one of the e-mails he had sent before, was the request for another key for his apartment being made...
This time it was the warm orange light of a sunrise over a calm, deep blue ocean shining through his mind in his half-awake dream. Definitely not the worst way to pass the time.
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Changing into a pair of jeans and an off the shoulder sweater, she tucked Clint’s scarf into her waist band to use again once her hair was dry and finally made her way back out to the living room, her damp hair hanging around her shoulders. Clint appeared to be sleeping when she found him, but she knew he was only drifting halfway. Still, she scuffed her feet a little so as not to startle him, figuring that was a better wake up than the roar of her hair dryer.
Moving around the back of the sofa, she leaned over to place a kiss on his forehead before opening her eyes to look at him upside down. “I just have to dry my hair and I’m ready to go.”
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Suppressing a yawn, Clint blinked at her lazily. The awkward angle had him grinning and crane his neck to steal a kiss.
"Take your time. We should appreciate it that we don't have to be anywhere for a change, I guess."
Also, he was pretty sure he needed another dose of caffeine before he was ready to move again.
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Seeing Clint looking so relaxed and dozy, Natasha smiled softly at him and brushed her fingertips over his freshly shaved skin.
“True. Today is all ours.” Leaning down to give him one last quick kiss, she soon disappeared back into the washroom, the sound of the hair dryer cutting the silence a moment later.
Today, and after taking care of business tomorrow then hopefully many days after as well would be free to do whatever they wanted.
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"I swear, one of these days they'll give me a Darwin-award, Nat."
With a little grimace, he tried to stretch some feeling back into his muscles. Great. Like they weren't over sensitive from always being too tense these days anyway.
"And I'm going soft. Not opposed to do some sparring from time to time, once we arrive. You haven't kicked my ass for too long."
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“Oh, I don’t know,” she called back to Clint as she tied his scarf back around her neck. “You’re pretty good at pulling yourself out of the stupid situations you get yourself into.”
When she emerged from the washroom she was grinning teasingly at him. Noting how he was rubbing his neck, she crossed the room and immediately took a seat on the sofa beside him, half turned to face him, and made a twirling motion with her finger to indicate he should turn around so she could work the muscles for him.
“I’m sure I can accommodate that,” she said. “It has been a long time. I’m surprised I haven’t gone into withdrawls yet.”
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"I'll make sure, you'll get your share. I'll insist on including at least one stick fighting round, though. Want to have a shot at beating you at least."
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“You always have a shot at beating me,” she said, a teasing note in her voice. “It just the only shot you always miss.”
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"Yeah, yeah, you want some salt and chili to treat that burn with?"
He didn't make it to sound offended, it felt much too good what she was doing back there.
"One of these days I'll throw you down in that ring, Nat. And I think, then I'll be allowed to make a wish, right?"
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“Is that how it works?” she questioned, working her thumb into a particularly tough knot. “The winner gets to make a wish?”
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While not exactly painless, that last move of hers had pressed some of that stinging heat out of his sore muscles, and he sighed again, soon hypnotized by the magic her hands were working on him.
"Should do that more often. You're great at this."
His hand sneaked back to softly caress her thigh while his shoulders fell even lower, complete relaxation settling in.
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