study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

She knew he did this, pushed himself too hard when he was trying to escape something, but she appreciated his honesty and in the end she was grateful he had come back. She knew the urge to run had to be strong sometimes, but so far he was still with her, even if he was putting his body through some grueling paces.

“Hopefully you haven’t worn yourself out too much,” she teased suggestively, splaying her fingers over his stomach. She was feeling progressively better as the day wore on, and while she may be more tired by the evening it had been a couple of days... “I was thinking of cashing in my massage raincheck tonight.”

Setting her bottle aside, she retrieved the book from the bag and handed it to him. “Only if you feel like it. If you would rather just close your eyes and relax, I’m completely fine with that as well,” she said. Turning her towel so it was perpendicular to his, she lay on her back, using him as a pillow, wanting to be close but not too much so in the sun and heat.

"I'll definitely remember that later."

Clint colored his answer with a deep, suggestive slur, reminding Natasha that while he wasn't at his best with birthdays and shit, he had a very good memory when it came to other kind of things.

Her hand on his skin had his muscles twitch in pure reflex and had him suck in a quiet breath, but fortunately right now he was feeling too worn out for his hormones to jump on that train.

He just relaxed back and let Natasha get comfortable on his body, softly running his fingertips through her hair. He kept that book by his side but he wasn't in a hurry with starting that read. Not when Natasha's hair felt so nice against his skin and he could have spend the next hours just like this, drawing small circles with his fingertips on her shoulders and arms.

It didn't take long at all for his hand to wander deeper, carefully explore that little roundness of Natasha's belly, always ready to retreat when she wanted it.

"This is so much better than swimming to get your mind off things."

The massage was something that Clint would definitely remember, she knew that. Dates and times weren’t really his thing, but he remembered things when it counted.

With her head pillowed on his stomach, Natasha closed her eyes and let out a content sigh when Clint started stroking his fingers through her hair while his other hand danced over her skin. It felt really nice, the touch soothing and unassuming. Her stomach clenched involuntarily when he first moved his hand to it but she soon relaxed again, softly trailing her fingertips up and down his arm.

“It’s certainly less taxing,” she said, turning her head to the side so she could look at him. She didn't ask, but the way he was touching her she was sure it wasn't the pregnancy he was trying to keep his mind off of. It had to be this place, the mission that had left him with nightmares he couldn't grasp. She wished she could help him, could tell him what he needed to know, but she was more in the dark than him.

And again, Natasha didn't ask, didn't even give him the feeling, he had to say something if he didn't want to. And as usual, that freedom had him much more in the mood to answer than every tiresome session with a whitecoat or his superiors.

It wasn't fair, brooding all day when they should be having fun, and not even trying to put an end to it. He had promised Natasha, he would be with her in all this and he meant to. He had to get his own shit together if he wanted to gather the strength he would need for that.

"Been thinking a little out there", he murmured, tracing her cheek and that light frown on her forehead with one fingertip. "Remind me not to do that again. Or you might have to put on a red swimsuit and pull my stupid ass out of there next time.
I'm just not getting anywhere. The blockade around the memories from this mission here won't move and I'm getting tired of peering through its holes. Guess I'll call headquarters when we get home and try to get them to send me the files.
The shrinks will have mental orgasms. Good old nutcase Barton proofs once again he can't let go of the past."

He pulled his face and sighed, shrugging. Oh well. He hadn't expected to be let out of evaluations any time soon anyway.

"Whatever. Who knows if they even give it to me. Probably easier if you used your stunning charm on Maria to get into that database."

Natasha knew how his mind worked: if he felt like he was being pushed then he would shut down completely, but if she left it open, left it all up to him though obvious she wanted to listen if he wanted to speak, then he would open up to her when he was ready, entirely unprompted.

Her brow furrowed further at his words. He made it sound like a joke, but there was obvious truth to it. He had pushed himself and then distracted himself and the outcome could have been much worse than it was. The very thought of it made her stomach sink but she determinately ignored it. He had more to say, so she stayed silent and listened.

The way he spoke made her heart ache. Did he truly believe that of himself, or just that others did? But the fact that he was admitting he needed help, that he couldn’t remember on his own and needed the file, proved how bad this whole thing had affected him.

Catching his hand in hers, she brought it to her lips, placing kisses over his palm and fingers. “If you think it will help I can see what I can do,” she replied. She had many options at her disposal. She could do as he said and speak with Maria directly, or she could call in a few ‘favours’ and get one of the underlings to pull the file for her. If that was what he wanted she would do it in a heartbeat.

"Thank you."

A surge of relief went through Clint. He kept on stroking her lips and cheek softly, letting her see the smile that slowly settled back on his lips. More talking, less brooding, right. One of these days he would learn it.

"They might take it better when you ask them. Less questions. You're kind of my shrink here, after all. And yes... It's better when I get that memory back. It's just..."

He hesitated, searching for the right words for what was going on inside him. It would be lying, saying he did know for sure. He just knew he couldn't sit it out like he usually used to. He wasn't alone in this world, in his life, in a relationship anymore that had lost every loose character.

"We're starting into something pretty overwhelming and demanding here. Good time to finish up a few building site in that old thick head here. Wise man used to tell me, there's no future if you live in the past."

There was very little Natasha wouldn’t do to see that smile, and her lips curled upwards against his hand. He was right as well; the request would come with questions, and she would be better prepared to answer them than him. She had no connection to the case, no emotions to get in the way, but Clint needed to know what happened and that desperation would likely show through and make it more difficult for him.

She gave him the time he needed to gather his thoughts and decide what he wanted to say, and was pleased with the results. “Very wise words,” she agreed, as they were pretty close to her personal motto. She didn’t shy away from her past, but she didn’t live in regret either. Her past was her past and there was nothing she could do to change it; she could only move forward and ensure that what she did with her present, her future, could at least partially help her atone.

“When we leave here I’ll make the call. We’ll have to decide on a way for them to send it to us.”

"Shouldn't be much of a problem. They can send a hardcopy to a postal office in the capital. That's a nice trip for us to see a little bit of the countryside."

Clint carefully wrapped one of her curls around a fingertip and used the others to tickle Natasha's neck, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"Since we probably can't go on that boat trip I promised you, unless little peanut and your stomach find an agreement... At least that way I get to show you around."

Even though the whole situation clearly rattled Clint, he was still able to think rationally and give her an easy answer. It was comforting. “That sounds like a nice trip,” Natasha replied. It might be nice to just get into the car and drive, and it was always nice to take in some different scenery. She had hoped to see more before their vacation had gotten derailed but it wasn’t too late.

Grinning and twitching away from his teasing fingers, Natasha reached back to give his thigh a playfully warning pinch. There were very few places where she was actually ticklish but she was pretty sure Clint knew them all, not that he often proved it.

Moving her hand to her stomach again, she looked down at how it rounded just slightly even with her laying down. Peanut, she thought, and really, it was a pretty good description of the ultrasound photo. Still, it was the first time he’d referred to the baby as anything less than formal and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It sent a stab of longing through her, of pure and utter want. She was trying so hard to not get too attached until they at least got through the first trimester, but it got more difficult by the minute. She wasn’t yet prepared to admit that it wasn’t only that she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it, but that there was a part of her that actually wanted this. “My own personal tour guide,” she said, finally looking back at Clint. “Often women find that the sickness passes after the first few months, so we may get that boat ride yet.” She actually sounded hopeful. It was a dangerous path.

"Cruel woman."

Clint chuckled and quickly got his leg out of reach. Natasha knew exactly where to make it sting if she wanted to. They would attract quite the attention if they got into a playful sparring session right now.

Soon enough though, it was Natasha's turn to fall into a much too serious tune for an afternoon in the sun, and he immediately regretted not continuing the teasing instead. It wasn't like he didn't understand her, on the contrary. It was only by mostly trying not to think about the still very present risks too much, that he got through the day. Right now there wasn't really anything they could do besides waiting and hoping. They both weren't too good at that.

"We will, and it will be awesome."

He lowered his head for a quick kiss to her forehead and tried to put all optimism he found inside into his words while his hand wandered back to her belly, just resting there warmly.

"Just think about it, lonely beach, star-shine on the water... We'll roast marshmallows, sing stupid country songs and then..."

His grin turned definitely dirty, making further spoken speculations unnecessary.

She knew she couldn’t live like this, couldn’t keep herself detached just in case everything took a turn for the worse, and it wasn’t fair of her to expect Clint to either. Maybe she wasn’t ready to start picking out names, but she couldn’t pretend like this wasn’t happening either, couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t a life growing inside of her.

Surprisingly, Clint’s optimism helped and she found herself smiling warmly at him and covering his hand on her belly to hold it there. There was nothing really to feel yet, but it was there, and it was time she accepted that. Worrying would only do damage and make the chances even greater of her fears coming true.

He painted a wonderful picture, and she was just closing her eyes and letting the scene play out in her mind when he trailed off very suggestively. Looking up at that filthy grin she let out a laugh. “I didn’t know country songs got you into the mood.”

"Depends on the occasion. Campfire and country just always comes as a pair."

Her smile was so much better to look at and Clint did his best to keep it there. Making a fool out of himself always was a good way for that. And there never was a wrong time for some pop culture lecture.

"You know, like in this old Star Trek movie when the war veterans are doing 'Row row row your boat'. Gets me all melancholic and shit and I need to need to snuggle really badly."

He pulled her a little closer to emphasize his words and gave her that exaggerated seductive look, biting his lower lip with a grin, just to hear her laugh again.

Natasha practically giggled at his actions and swatted playfully at him when he pulled her closer. The combination of that look and those words made it impossible not to laugh.

“If old men singing a children’s song gets you all hot and bothered I may need to reconsider a few things,” she replied.

Shifting around so she was practically sharing his towel with him now, she stretched out the length of his side and placed one hand on his chest, resting her chin on it.

"Not the old guys, just the sappy romance of a good old campfire."

Natasha getting that close was a very welcome change of position. He leaned down to kiss her, just softly, slightly, because he knew he would still taste of salt, and finally reached for that book then. The shadow on his face when he rested it on his chest was very welcome after the heat in the water. And if he got a little lost in thought again instead of in the story he began to read to Natasha, in his best clear, accent-free Italian to make it easier for her to follow, at least she wouldn't see.

The hand not turning pages was caressing her neck and back, harmlessly, softly massaging fingertips treasuring every inch of skin her bathing suit revealed while he spoke. Sometimes he played a little with the strings of her top, just to tease her, but never made a move to open them. Only an unspoken promise that he would definitely up for more games later.

His adventure in the water had still left traces, though, and it wasn't long before his water bottle was empty and his throat still felt sore. His eyes longingly wandered to that one stand in the distance, where they had bought their granita the other day, and he sighed. Getting Natasha to move away from him and letting go off her was pretty far the last thing on his mind right now.

Settling down against him, Natasha turned her head to rest it more comfortably against his chest as he started to read. He had a lovely speaking voice, and she could tell he was making an extra effort to keep his words clear and concise. She loved listening to the soft Italian rolling off of his tongue, and before long she was entirely engrossed, both in the words and him.

His touch felt good, soothing and soft and occasionally teasing, and for a moment she thought she could have stayed like this forever. In answer to his caressing fingertips she let her own trail over his ribs, his shoulder, never once straying to tease. Every once in a while, though, she would turn her face against him and place a gentle kiss to his skin, tasting warmth and salt.

As comfortable and almost dreamlike as this was, Natasha didn’t fail to notice how quickly Clint finished his water, nor how his eyes strayed to the food stands up the beach. She didn’t want to move, but she couldn’t make him suffer either. Slowly she pushed herself up to sit beside him. “I’m going fro a swim,” she announced. It was near time she got into the water and it would give Clint time to rehydrate himself.

"The book and me will be waiting."

Clint winked at her and dutifully put Natasha's bookmark back in before he lazily pushed himself up, wallet in hand, to restock their supplies. He didn't leave without watching Natasha stroll to the water of course, with a very appreciative grin. Her little teasing back hadn't gone unnoticed and just sparked that little fire further that promised an adventurous night.

For that he would need some energy though. Whether it was that knowledge or simply his body screaming for nutrition, it was calming that his stomach reacted to just seeing that food trailer with audible demands. He decided that a big strawberry granita contained enough calories and sugar to not feel light-headed again and brought an extra bottle of water for Natasha, for after her little workout. He shortly thought of buying a can of beer just to get his mind a little off things, but for once he really wasn't a fan of that stuff... And the Italian idea of beer was even worse than what they served in your everyday pub.

Besides, he had yet to see the day when drinking would make anything better.

"How about this one then?"
The girl behind the counter obviously had watched his struggle and came up with a half full bottle of grog from under the food shelves, with a mischievous little grin.
"First one's for free. How about drinking to the end of the Summer?"

Clint decided that the girl was definitely eying him a little too interested and denied politely. Natasha would probably have his guts if he started drinking hard stuff at this time of the day. And a splitting headache tomorrow definitely wouldn't make things better.

He spent his time while indulging his ice cream watching Natasha a little and flipping through the first pages of his own book, but just as expected he didn't have the focus to read. It was so much more interesting, keeping his eyes on his partner and enjoy how relaxed she looked, how easy with something that wasn't quite training, but still so much more graceful than what most people called swimming.

If he hadn't felt so wrung out, maybe he would have joined her again, just for that warm, calming feeling of her body close to his in the water. Maybe they could improvise later, in the shower. After how patient she had been with his brooding and irrationality today, she definitely deserved to be looked after and pampered for a few hours...

Natasha could feel Clint’s eyes on her as she walked, and if she added a little extra swivel to her hips then she could hardly be at fault.

The water was warm and inviting and she dove in as soon as she was deep enough to do so. Swimming out to the buoys, she treaded water for a few minutes, trying to pick Clint out on the beach full of people. Part of her wished he was out there with her, but recalling their last foray into the sea it was probably good he wasn’t. As fun and hot as that had been she was pretty sure neither of them had the energy for that at the moment. It was better saved for later when they could have both feet on solid ground, or a surface to lay on.

Continuing her swim she alternated different strokes between relaxing floating until her limbs were the right amount of heavy and tired. Making her way back to shore she could see Clint on his towel, watching her, and smiled to herself. Even on a beach full of half naked women he only seemed to have eyes for her.

“The water here is perfect,” she said as she approached. Pulling her hair forward over one shoulder, she twisted it around, making sure to dribbled the water on his legs as she wrung it out.

"I know, honey, I've just been in."

Clint took revenge for her little game with using one of these stupid endearments they both weren't into, and made it a show to shiver from the cold drops that hit his skin.

From the corner of his eyes though, he watched Natasha closely and unashamed, enjoying the sight of her swimsuit clinging wet to her lush curves and the sun drying the water on her skin. He felt like leaning over and kissing away every of that little drop on her legs, and then a little higher and... And he really needed to get his mind out of the gutter before things could get embarrassing.

Instead he handed Natasha her bottle of water like a perfect gentleman and did his best to keep his eyes on level with hers.

"Enjoying yourself, I see?"

Giving him a mock glare for that little endearment, Natasha rolled her eyes and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. Taking the bottle he offered her, she took a long drink before sitting down on her towel again and stretching her legs out. Placing her hands behind her she leaned her weight on them and tilted her head back, closing her eyes and letting the sun dry her skin.

“Very much,” she said, smiling a little. It wasn’t just teasing Clint she had been enjoying but just being here with him. Swimming in the warm water, relaxing in the sun, and feeling at peace for the moment despite everything else that that was throwing their lives off kilter.

"Glad to hear."

Clint hoped it sounded as honest as he meant it, in spite of him feeling slightly distracted by Natasha's posture, which presented her body in a most delightful way.

A grin playing on his lips, he moved behind her to wrap her in his arms, frame her legs with his. That way of course he got even wetter from Natasha's still damp skin but suddenly he couldn't care anymore. With a very content little purr he covered her shoulders with little kisses, just like he had fantasized about it a second ago and pressed his body close to hers, shivering a little both at the water hitting his skin and the tempting associations the embrace brought.

"Just needed to remind myself how good that feels", he murmured against her ear and placed another kiss there then.

His tone matched Natasha’s, sounding both teasing yet sincere, and slyly peering at him through just barely cracked lids she could see him openly admiring her body. With anyone else she grew tired of the ogling but she could never get enough of Clint looking at her like that.

Grinning wider when he positioned himself behind her, she settled back against his chest, her hands resting on his legs on either side of her, her fingers occasionally putting just a little bit of pressure against his muscles. His skin was warm against her cool body and she let out a content sigh. She didn’t miss his little shiver.

“Is that so,” she replied, closing her eyes again. “I’m beginning to worry about your memory, or perhaps it is me that is simply not memorable enough.” She tried to keep a straight face while she said this.

"Yeah, you know. Comes with the age. Soon enough you'll see me trying to remember where I left my arrows and trying to figure out Sudokus on the kitchen table."

Clint just laughed and rubbed his stubble-covered chin over her shoulder affectionately before leaning his head back with a sigh, enjoying the last of sun for today just like she did.

"Also, a barely-legal just tried to flirt with me. I figured it would be better to let her know, there's only one woman for me."

“I hope that’s a ways off yet. And in the meantime, any reminding of this nature that you need I would be glad to help with,” she replied. Clint often joked about his age, and she suspected that sometimes their age difference actually bothered him. She thought it was silly, she much preferred to be with him than anyone her age, and it wasn’t like Clint acted maturely all the time. In the end she hardly ever thought about it unless he brought it up. It didn’t matter how old he was, he was the man she wanted to be with and that was that.

Wriggling against him and giggling a little at the scratch of his stubble, she waited until he settled again before resting her head back on his shoulder. At his little confession she raised her eyebrows and looked up at him.

“A very good decision,” she said, smirking slightly. “Guess you’re not too old yet.” She pinched his leg through his shorts teasingly.

"It's still enough to be at least even with you hand-to-hand. Sometimes. On a good day", Clint quickly added before he could be rewarded with another pinch. Natasha knew his most sensitive spots definitely too well.

"I might come back to that reminder later, though..."

His lips got busy with her ear again, alternating between little kisses and soft bites while his fingers drew gentle circles her waist and hips.

"Probably should be eating something before though, or I'll have to get up for a bite in the middle of things. Cooking again? Or shall we try a restaurant? I can call old Zio Turi and ask him to fix us something to take home, if you're rather not among people right now."

It had taken a long time for Natasha to get this comfortable with another person. In the past, the only time she had been so affectionate in public was for a mission, for a reason, but Clint was no mission. Even back home she had been wary, wanting to keep their relationship to themselves as if to protect it, to hold it sacred. Here, though, it didn’t matter who saw them, and it was nice to relax in Clint’s arms heedless of the people around them. Nobody paid them any mind anyhow.

Of course there was still a part of her that wanted to hid away, so the mention of cooking again was tempting, but Clint had been so excited to take her to all his favourite places when they’d first arrived, and she didn’t want to deprive him of that.

“Let’s go out tonight,” she said, tilting her head back to look at him. “Dinner. Dancing. Cinema. Whatever you want to do.”

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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