study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

She reacted just as strong as he had hoped and he knew, he had found just the perfect spot. That smile on his lips grew even deeper and he couldn't help giving the tender flesh of her nipple in his mouth a playful bite, trying to push her even further in this delicious zone of overtaking arousal and adrenaline.

His hands on her thighs were gentle but firm, holding her bent right at that point where every of his quick, deep thrusts grazed her g-spot, sweetest torture for both of them, when her grip on his arm tightened as much as the wonderful warm massaging of her muscles around him. Sweat was stinging in his half closed eyes and laying heavy on his tongue from greedily tasting her skin again and again, fromcircling her hard nipples, teasing the reddened fingerprints on her breasts before he brought one hand back there from her leg to make new ones.

He could hardly hear her panting over his own but he could certainly feel it against his own body and knew, she was more than ready to feel this orgasm he had promised her. He gently reached for her hand on his arm and brought it to his mouth for a tender kiss before he softly urged it to her leg.

"Want you to hold yourself open for me, beautiful", he murmured, rubbing his cheek softly against her already sensitive nipples to rail her up further.

Natasha let out a strangled gasp at the bite and her muscled involuntarily contracted around him again. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, tingling at his every touch. She had never felt more connected to another human being than she did Clint, and he knew her better than anyone, inside and out, and even the very knowledge of that made it all better.

Their movements were harder, rougher, but when he kissed her hand it was gentle. He never once forgot himself, never once failed to remind her how important she was to him. She wanted to kiss him back but he was already moving her hand to her leg, making a request she was quick to fulfill. Holding her legs bent as he’d positioned them earlier, she spread them wider, opening herself up to him as much as she could. A shiver ran through her whole body at that mild scratch of his stubble against her already overly sensitive skin. “Please...” she whispered. She wasn’t one to beg, but she needed that release, needed to let go, needed to feel him do the same against her, inside her. It wasn’t just a ‘want’ anymore, it was a need, a need so strong she didn’t mind asking for it.

Though making Natasha wait or hear her ask for that release just so close within reach certainly hadn't been his intention - well, not this time - Clint couldn't deny how much he loved that desperately turned on, rough tone in her voice. Or how she looked when she was threading on that narrow edge before letting go, with her skin flushed from head to toe, that certain glance in her eyes, her pupils blown wide with lust.

She was everything he could ever have wished for and never had imagined to be with one day, in every part of their lives, and in bed it was no different. She was a goddamn dream come true. The way she laid there before him, offering herself, her nipples hard and red, her body shivering and writhing against his, and so hot for him that every of his quick, deep thrusts was a wet, erotic sound mixing into both their moans... She definitely wouldn't have needed to ask, ever, for him to make her feel good. To fly away with him into these spheres of heavy dizziness, delicious heat in their veins erasing every thought, and that demanding, overwhelming pulse inside being the biggest and best worry on their minds.

Right now it was just as overwhelming for him as for her, so he didn't even try to hold back - and was pretty sure, he couldn't have, anyway - but leaned down to answer her whisper with a kiss, messy and breathless. Their tongues wrestled for claiming their partner's mouth until they both panted for air, and the feeling of her lush curves, her silky sweat-stained skin pressed against his, nearly left him losing control at once.

With a strained grunt, he straightened back up to rest his weight more on his thighs again forgather proper leverage and put the rest of his energy to good use. Every hard, long thrust hit exactly where he knew, Natasha needed it and in between, he kept on pulling out of her nearly all the way, just to bury himself inside her again. Just to enjoy that wonderful feeling of her hot, slick flesh enveloping him, all but pulling him in to have them connect in this most intimate way of deepest trust and familiarity.

Only a few moments he gave himself to find back at least a hint of control, then he moved away his hand from her breasts to bring it between their bodies and find her nicely swollen clit with his thumb, rubbing it tightly, nearly harshly to give her that last needed push.

She kissed him back greedily, wanting to taste him and devour him, to feel him pressed along her body. One hand slipped from her leg to grasp his hair, holding it tightly until they came up for air. It was only reluctantly that she let him straighten up and she let her hand drop to his shoulder, her nails digging into his flesh with each thrust. She tried to speak but the words were incoherent, tried to keep her eyes on him but it was near impossible.

By the time he pressed his thumb against her clit she was pretty near to exploding, and that last bit of sensation was all it took to make her scream as her orgasm flooded over her. Clamping hard around him, her nails dug harder into his shoulder and her own leg, her other wrapping around him once more to hold him to her as she shuddered and moaned through the aftershocks.

If she hadn't already taken him with her with her muscles contracting around his rock hard cock so hard, his whole body shook violently with lust, her nails torturing his skin in the best way possible would have been the last straw. Just that perfect adrenaline spark to set fire to the smoldering heat in every cell, and it was enough.

He wasn't sure if it was her scream or his own he heard. Clint was pretty sure, his mind completely clocked out for a moment, swallowed by bliss, bright sparks behind his tightly closed eyes, the searing hot tension in his lower body finally breaking free as he emptied himself inside her, helpless, throaty moans accompanying every hot spurt of lust.

With half a brain cell at least still working, he tried not to completely crash on Natasha's body pressed so perfectly into his but rested heavily on his arm again when his knees gave in. He was still moving against her, in shallow thrusts to draw out her orgasm until he was completely spent.

Soon he found himself with his face buried tightly against her neck, with his body still hot and shaking and one hand gently tangled in her hair while he tried to catch his breath, somehow, and failed miserably. He could feel the mess they had made wet and sticky coating his groin, his thighs, still enveloping him, and he never wanted to move again. He was pretty sure, he couldn't, anyway.

Maybe he had actually said that out loud, with a voice that definitely sounded a lot like after hours of screaming, but even if she hadn't heard... She hopefully wouldn't miss how his lips covered her damp skin with kisses, or his fingertips softly caressing her neck, her leg still wrapped tightly around him.

"Fuck..."

She felt him pulsing inside of her, spilling his seed, and she just moaned and dug her nails in harder. He kept thrusting, drawing it out, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever stop coming, but eventually he collapsed against her, though still mindful not to lay his entire weight upon her, though she would have gladly accepted it. This was exactly what she had wanted, to feel him heavy on top of her, to be able to look up at his beautiful face.

Sliding her hands around his back to hold him, her fingers running lightly over his sweat soaked skin, she kept that leg around him, holding him right where he was, keeping him inside of her, wanting to hold him there a little longer. Even if he could move she wasn’t so inclined to let him just yet.

Natasha practically giggled at his words, blissful and euphoric. Brushing his hair back she kissed the top of his head, his forehead; anywhere she could reach.

“Exactly,” she said, since that was precisely what they had just done. “So much for keeping the sheets clean.” Giving his hair the gentlest tug to urge him to look at her, she grinned at him.

"Gonna change them", Clint promised, mumbled and slurred, but made no move to even sit up, at least not yet.

That smile of hers was too beautiful to not remain in this intimate hug for a little while longer. He leaned down to kiss it and then a little more and rested his forehead against hers with a deep sigh.

One hand reached back softly to caress her leg, up to her hip where they were still joined. Following a still lust-hazed instinct, he let his fingertips wander along the underside of her thigh, up to more sensitive areas. Soon they dipped into this mess they had made together, and he brought his hand to his mouth to lick it off with a satisfied hum. It wasn't meant or enough to get him going again - he was pretty sure, he was dead out for the night in a few - but a soft, warm spark of remaining arousal shuddered through his groin anyway when he tasted the sweet saltiness.

He thought what it would be like to eat her out right after they had fucked and shuddered again, resting his head on her shoulder again. Nice thought but that wouldn't save the bed for now.

"We're gonna need more sheets, you know."

To be truthful Natasha really could care less about the sheets. Getting them full of sand and sunscreen she had not been too keen on, but this she would allow, especially since changing them meant moving, and there was no guarantee they wouldn’t just dirty them in the morning before getting up for the day.

The kiss was perfect, gentle and almost chaste, and she closed her eyes and mimicked his sigh, her smile still lingering around the corners. Her eyes shot open again, though, when his hand started wandering. She wasn’t sure she had the energy for another round tonight, but right away? Certainly not, and she was surprised he even seemed to be considering it. Still, as she watched his face, watched him lick the combination of their fluids from his fingers and felt him twitch inside of her, her body involuntarily reacted, muscles contracting around him still buried deep inside of her even though he had started to go soft.

“You can’t seriously be ready to go again already,” she laughed, running her hands through his hair when he settled against her again. Not that that would be out of the question for them, nor something they hadn’t done before, but the sun had sapped her energy so she wasn’t as quick to jump for it as she might have been another night. “Maybe we should just get a vinyl cover and hose it down each day.” It was a joke. Mostly.

"Nah, getting too old for that. Buddy down there just doesn't know when to give up."

Chuckling, Clint pressed another tender kiss to her collarbone and rested his chin on one hand, trying to get his head clear. Not too easy with Natasha's nude body so close to his and her warm tightness still working him, but his hormones fortunately decided to call it a night. He was getting old. There was always the next morning.

For the moment he was completely satisfied with looking down at her, fingertips softly threading through her hair, and watch that beautiful afterglow still on her cheeks, that careless, bright smile he loved so much.

"We obviously need another bed", he joined in her joking, still a little breathless. "Though, since I can't feel my legs right now, I couldn't even carry you there..."

She chuckled at his response, giving him one last little squeeze before relaxing. “Clearly you’re still young at heart... among other places...”

Smiling softly at him when he just propped himself up and set about admiring her, she trailed her fingers lightly down his side, not really wanting to move but knowing they couldn’t exactly stay like this all night either. Some nights it still amazed her that she could want to; Clint was the first man since Alexei that she enjoyed sharing a bed with after sex, and even back then it hadn’t been anything like this. She had been too young to truly understand the depths one could feel for another, and while she had loved her husband she had barely known herself, and that made all the difference. Clint had helped her discover who she was, who Natasha was, not Natalia nor the Black Widow. He had helped her become the person she was today, someone she could live with being, someone who could truly love another human being.

“That’s impressive,” she laughed. “I’ve paralyzed people before, but never with sex. Maybe I should add that to my vast arsenal."

"It would make quite the addition to your skill list in your file."

Laughing with her, Clint lowered his head to kiss her again and then give her lower lip a teasing little nip.

"But since I'd personally shoot anyone wanted to test that ability, it's probably better we keep this to ourselves."

He still felt pretty knocked out but somehow managed to get enough body control back to move away from her, carefully, with his hand still softly buried in her hair, and crash next to her then just as boneless, with his head on his favorite pillow that was her chest. There were still some pretty impressive fingerprints on her skin which made him blush a little, and he made sure to kiss every single one of them, slowly, tenderly, before resting his head back against her breasts.

She felt light as air and she couldn’t keep the smile off her lips, even when he was kissing them. “True, that would be rather unfortunate,” she agreed. “I suppose I will just have to continue to practice on you instead.”

When he finally slid out of her and away she stretched her legs out so he could curl easily against her side. She enjoyed holding him like this, feeling that comfortable weight of his head on her chest, his breath playing over her skin. She shivered a little at his kisses, watching him with complete adoration until he settled down again, and as much as she was ready to do the same, to sleep just like this with him nestled in her arms, there was one last thing that needed taking care of. “I hate to disturb you,” she said, lifting one leg up in the air to remove the shoe and toss it to the floor. “But I have the feeling this is probably not the most comfortable thing to sleep in.”

"Well, I'm not opposed to see it a while longer, but you've got a point."

Clint used his teeth again, to playfully pull on the edge of that top still riding somewhere under Natasha's breasts but forced himself to sigh up with a small sigh then. No tempting.

"Back in a second."

He stopped by the bathroom just long enough for a quick wipeover of the mess on his skin and came back with a small and a big towel then, handing the small one to Natasha to clean herself once she was out of all these naughty, equally messed up clothes. The big one he spread over the impressively wet spot they had left on the sheets, actively fighting that proud new hint of arousal rearing its head at the sight. They had all time in the world.

With the bed at least comfortable enough for the night, he laid back down and curled on his side, tired but satisfied as could be, to wait for Natasha joining him again.

Natasha swatted at him playfully when he teased her again and just continued to grin after him a moment when he left the room before removing her other shoe and pushing herself up to her feet. Draping the towel Clint handed her over one shoulder, she undid the laces of her top and let it fall to the floor, followed soon thereafter by the garter belt. Last she removed the stockings, careful not to damage them; the whole ensemble had been a hit so it was definitely something to keep in mind for another time. Gathering the lot up she put them in a pile beside the laundry basket to be handwashed later.

Joining Clint on the bed once more, she stretched out on her back beside him, making herself comfortable. Smirking over at him, she patted her chest in invitation if he wanted to reclaim the pillow she had made him vacate a few minutes ago.

Clint's eyes lit up at the invitation and he hurried to move, not caring the least that he had to look like an idiot. Only Natasha was here to see, and for her it really wasn't a secret how much he loved it to lay with her like that. He tried at least to settle down carefully, turn his head in a way that wouldn't leave certain already reddened parts in touch with that scruff on his cheeks. She would be sensitive tomorrow as it was.

"Probably should be shaving soon", he murmured, a little embarrassed. There were certain things he just tended forget when he was on Holiday.

It was comfortable enough anyway, so much that he felt sleepy in no time, in fact. But he fought it bravely and rather concentrated on caressing Natasha's side and leaving a tender, harmless kiss on the soft valley of her breasts in between. She smelled of what they had just done and he loved it.

As much as he had enjoyed these certain clothes, this was still how he preferred her for nights like this. When he felt nothing but soft, smooth skin wherever they touched and her heart was beating softly right against his ear. There were some places all around the world he could always find shelter in, like here, on this Island, but this here, with her... This really was home for him.

Clint’s reaction was actually pretty adorable, and Natasha loved the way his eyes lit up at such a simple thing. With the world wide scale their jobs often took on, it was always good to remember that it was the simple things in life that really mattered.

Slipping one arm around him, she lightly brushed the hair at his temples with one finger. It didn’t escape her notice how carefully he laid his head upon her, her well-being never far from his mind. “You’re on vacation. A little scruff never hurt anyone,” she said, sliding her fingers down to brush over the stubble on his cheek. She loved it when he was clean shaven, but there was also a different appeal to that prickly stubble against certain parts her body.

With her other arm she traced lazy patterns on his shoulder and bicep as he softly caressed her skin. Kissing the top of his head, she lay her own back on the pillow and closed her eyes, a content sigh escaping her lips. No matter what the world threw at them, if they could end the day like this, more often than not, then Natasha was sure the days would be easy enough to face.

"I'll hold you to that."

Clint chuckled lightly, and this time the tiredness in his voice couldn't be mistaken. Only when he felt his hand lay lazily more on Natasha's side than moving, he realized, his eyes were falling close. He supposed it was probably better to allow it since they had planned the trip to the vet tomorrow and he really should be kind of awake for driving Italian streets. And they would have much time left for just cuddling and enjoying each other's presence near left in days to come.

"Dropping out on you here again", he murmured, forcing half a lid open. "Just kick me or something if I get too heavy."

She smiled at that sleepy note in his voice and settled her hand on his arm, more than ready for a little shuteye herself. “If you get too heavy you know I’ll have no problem removing you,” she said, her smile clear in her voice even with that added tired edge to it.

Stretched out in the comfortable bed with Clint’s warm, comfortable presence at her side, it didn’t take long for Natasha to drift off to sleep after she heard his breathing settle out. The nightmares didn’t even plague her that night, her body too exhausted and her head still filled with happy thoughts, but when she awoke in the morning it still wasn’t a pleasant awakening. She had felt relatively well the past day and had thought that whatever was wrong with her had finally passed, but apparently she had been mistaken. Her stomach was revolting viciously, much worse than the morning before.

Clint was still curled up against her side, his head on her chest, and she knew there was no way she was getting out of this without waking him, nor did she have time to try. “I have to get up,” she said, her voice coming out as more of a croak from sleep. She didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t give him chance to protest or playfully try to keep her in place; instead she extracted herself from his arms as efficiently as possibly, forcefully if necessary. “Bathroom.” That was the only explanation she gave, and though her stomach protested she tried to walk normally toward the door, though a little hurried. Once in the hallway, though, she bolted for the bathroom, pushing the door to behind her and making it to the toilet just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the bowl.

After a night of pretty awkward but harmless dreams involving only strange, very young faces, Clint certainly hadn't been prepared for a unpleasant morning. Used to the new accommodations by now and comfortable, relaxed by Natasha's side he had looked forward to a nice sleep in and lazy breakfast in bed. And then trying to get that kitten in the transport box without getting killed in the act.

Obviously there would be a change of plans.

Being awake in a matter of moments if necessary was part of his training, but Natasha fleeing from his arms so suddenly in a safe environment like this, caught him by surprise. She was gone before he had even sat up or asked. And that tone in her voice let him know before he heard the noises, she hadn't just had too much to drink yesterday.

Last time he had left her alone, mostly because the argument before, but this time he didn't hesitate to join her in the bathroom, quietly, carefully, with the first sweater of his he had found in the cabinet to wrap around her back when he knelt down beside her. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, of course, but right now she didn't have to, not when they were here together. So he tried his best to help her out, gently held her hair out of her face and rested one hand soothingly on her back until the worst seemed to be over.

For the moment. So, some kind of silly virus after all, or maybe the heat was too much, just as he had feared. A hint of guilt struck him, for wearing her out so much last night when she clearly had still been sick. Only she hadn't been. She had been fine in the evening, and somehow he doubted it had been the food again.

He thought about making a silly pregnancy remark for a second but decided it was too early in the morning for morbid jokes. Sighing, he pulled Natasha in his arms when she seemed to have calmed down and carefully ran his fingers through her hair, just holding her loosely enough, in case her stomach would protest again.

"Looks like we should see a hospital instead of the vet."

It wasn’t as bad as last time without all the stress of their fight adding to it, but it wasn’t as easily explainable either. It could no longer be blamed on jetlag or food poisoning, but maybe a bug of some sort or too much sun the day before. Maybe, but deep down Natasha knew it wasn’t true. Deep down she knew the truth, she remembered from long ago, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it. For over a decade she had been told it wasn’t possible, that it couldn’t happen for her ever again, so as much as her body was trying to tell her yes, her head was still very much in the ‘no’ camp.

She had hoped that Clint wouldn’t follow her, but she knew there was no way he’d stay in bed while she was sick and miserable; she hadn’t been that convincing and the house was too silent not to hear her. Once he was there, though, she was glad for his presence, for the soothing way he rubbed her back and the considerate way he held her hair. When she had finished she wiped her mouth with a bit of tissue and let Clint wrap his arms around her. She didn’t return the embrace, but she did sag against him, trying to prepare herself for the inevitable talk. She wanted to refuse, to say it was nothing, but she knew there was no way out of it this time. He wouldn’t let it go, and worse than fighting with him about it was the way he would treat her if he did agree to let it go. He would treat her like glass, watching her every movement for a sign of sickness, for the lies she would use to cover how she was really feeling. There was really only one option: she had to go.

“Or both,” she said, her voice thick. “I can...” she paused to clear her throat. “You can drop me at the hospital and go to the vet while I’m there.” She knew it would be a hard sell, but it would be easier that way, easier if she could get the news first, on her own.

"Whatever you prefer."

Clint tried hard to keep the worry out of his voice, without much success. Natasha not protesting against seeing a doctor told him all he needed to know. She didn't only look bad, pale and distraught, she felt like it. And maybe only because he had come up with the idea of this country of all places. He pushed the thought away, because self-reproach certainly didn't help anyone right now. Still holding Natasha with one arm, he reached out to flush and put down the toilet lit, then carefully helped her to her feet to sit down on it.

He didn't like the way she looked, at all. She was chewing on something she didn't want to tell him and while he had refused to coddle her in the last days, by now he couldn't ignore it anymore. Maybe they could talk about it on the way. Right now he wanted her with someone who could take care of her body. The rest was his job.

"You okay for a moment alone, red? I'll go get the furball and ask Angelina for a few names in that hospital. Just to make sure you'll be with someone who knows what he's doing."

He hadn’t succeeded at all, Natasha could tell he was worried. She should have argued a little, shouldn’t have agreed so quickly, but she didn’t have the energy to fight with him this morning, especially not when she knew he was right. It had been a few days and it certainly wasn’t the flu, so it was time to suck it up and go to the doctor.

Her legs felt shaky and weak as Clint helped her up to sit on the toilet, and she caught the edges of his sweater between her fingers and wrapped it more securely around herself.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling at him, but it was a hollow gesture. “I’ll just get myself ready, you take care of our little one.”

Our little one. She had meant to say the little one but it hadn’t come out right, her mind was on other things.

"I'll make it fast."

And Clint meant to, but he took a second to lean down and place a soothing kiss on Natasha's forehead anyway before he went back to the bedroom. Quickly but not overly hurried to not make Natasha nervous on top of feeling bad already. He grabbed two pairs of short pants, shirts and underwear for both of them and brought Natasha her pile while already angling his way into his own clothes. He was as good as out of the room when he stopped, hesitating, but he followed his instinct and reached for her hand for another moment.

"And Nat... You don't need to smile for me when you're feeling bad, okay?"

He pressed her hand softly and managed a smile that was at least a little more convincing than hers a second ago. They should know each other better than having to put up any kind of mask, that was all he wanted her to know. It wasn't like hadn't seen her sick or injured before, as seldom as it had happened. He could deal with that.

Right now she could need a bit of help though, so he kept his promise of hurrying up. He just paused in the kitchen to quickly fill a bowl of milk for the kitten so it could feed while he went for Angelina's advise. The kitten- their kitten, or something, as Natasha had put it, and for some silly reason that had him grinning in spite of all. Especially when he left the house and saw furball already waiting for him.

"You won't be all that happy with me soon", he sighed when the animal started strolling around his legs at once. Only a short pat of its little head he allowed himself when he put the bowl on the porch, then his thoughts were already with his next visit.

As expected, he found his target only a few steps from his house on her morning walk, and when he came back with the acquired list of trustworthy doctors, his mood had quite hit the bottom. To get that list, he of course had had to describe at least vaguely what was happening, and the first question Angelina had come up, hadn't exactly soothed his fluttering nerves.

Of course he had considered that possibility, very vaguely, once or twice in the last days but pushed it away immediately, scoffed at the idea... Physically impossible, that was what Natasha had told him, he had seen it in her medical file too.

Ridiculous. His protective instincts combined with the heat got to his head, that was all. Because that other possibility, as small as it was, that Natasha's body was playing an evil trick on them, was too terrifying to even consider. Natasha had gone through this horror once before in the past, from all he knew, and even if she was stronger, had grown a lot, become a whole different person since then... Going through that again would be just as bad for her as for any other woman. And with all he knew from her medical file, there was no way this could have a happy ending.

And even if... That prospect was even scarier, so Clint gave himself a hard mental smack on the head and shoved that subject far, far out of reach, the moment he entered the house. Overreacting again, Barton. There was absolutely no reason to assume any of this would happen. Just a virus or something, everything was okay, Natasha would be better soon. And if his hands trembled a bit when he got that transport box from the store room, well, he hadn't had anything to eat yet.

Before he went to get his hands all scratched open, he stopped to see if Natasha was ready enough for the trip. No reason to give furball the shock of her lifetime before they were even save to go.

"Nat?"

Natasha sat still and focused on her breathing as well as the sounds of Clint moving around in the house until he returned with some clothes for her which she accepted gratefully. Slipping the sweater from her shoulders, she was just unfolding the shirt when he grabbed her hand.

He was always so intuitive, and she should have known it wouldn’t fool him, but the question was why had she bothered to try? She didn’t have to put on a mask, not with him, and she knew this, but maybe it wasn’t him she was trying to fool. If she was honest with herself she was scared, and the act was just as much for herself as him, if not more. “Okay,” she agreed, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Letting him go to take care of the kitten, she pulled on the clothes that he had given her, almost managing to get fully dressed before another wave of nausea hit her. She didn’t have as much to bring up this time and was left dry heaving at the end, but it passed again, thankfully before Clint returned. By the time she heard him calling out to her she had finished dressing, combed out her hair and was carefully brushing her teeth. Not wanting to risk trying to talk with the mouthful of toothpaste, she remove her free hand from the sink where she was leaning heavily and stuck it out through the door to the hall to wave blindly in his general direction.

Since Natasha wasn't done yet, Clint quickly peeled himself an orange to get his body from sleep mode into fully capable of driving, even with a head full of worries and paranoia. He stayed there for eating, not wanting to provoke another wave of nausea with the smell. By the time he washed the juice off his hands, at least they weren't trembling anymore. He was fine. Everything was totally okay.

Well, not everything, not the way Natasha more leaned on that sink more than standing straight, but they would take care of that. He brought a bottle of water for her from the fridge, in case she wanted to try at least and get something in her stomach, and then went for the considerable task of getting their visitor ready for the ride.

Well, fetching the animal wasn't the problem, little one seemed to trust him enough by now and didn't protest when he picked her up, having just finished her meal. Maybe she thought, she was in for some more treats when he carried her inside where the opened transport box was waiting. The misunderstandings - voiced in high-pitched noises and a lot of these harmless little hisses - only began when he tried to put her inside. By the time he could finally close the grate of the basket, he was bleeding from several fine but painful cuts and not exactly happier than before.

"Well, that was fun."

He looked up at Natasha with half a grin and wiped his hands on his pants with a small grimace.

"Good to go?"

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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