study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

"Oh, I plan to make it up plenty to you later..."

Clint blinked at her half-heartedly, feeling slightly at unease about this expression of hers. Well, that would mean payback, definitely. Enough of a threat to behave now, to open the car door for Natasha, still the perfect gentlemen, and close it once she was comfortable.

"Sorry, furball. Maybe tomorrow."

He shortly waved at Liho who still seemed to wait for her chance to sneak into the house and took his own seat, grinning at Natasha slightly nervously.

"So, on a scale from a walk by the beach to meat, right now, or I'll cut you, how hungry are you?"

Natasha could sense Clint’s unease but did nothing to abate it. Let him mull it over and suspect her every move. Might be she wouldn’t have to do anything to exact revenge, he might just do it all himself.

Settling into the passenger seat of the car, she adjusted the skirt of her dress so the slits showed just enough leg to be provocative but not enough to appear intentional. Smiling over at Clint when he joined her in the car, she tapped her lips as she considered the question.

“I would say somewhere around a leisurely stroll, but if you try to detain me I may have to hurt you,” she replied.

"Got it. No making out on the rocks", Clint answered with a short grin and a mock-salute and hurried to get the car started then, before she could try to strangle him.

Their usual parking spot was a bit far from where he had in mind for eating, so once they were down the serpentine, he took the road along the beach to find them a place somewhat closer.

In a way this street was even more dangerous than maneuvering between a steep abyss and crazy-ass bus drivers. Traffic rules in Italy existed mostly in the books. None of the young people on their scooters crowding the street wore a helmet. Traffic lights served more as a polite recommendation. And from time to time you had to slow down or take a detour to not ram a donkey.

Not much time to concentrate on the glimpse of Natasha's firm, perfectly shaped legs under that sinful dress, and after her subtle warning he rather kept his hands to himself too. But once they were parked, he couldn't help but lean over to her to capture her lips in another kiss, gentle this time, nearly chaste.

"Oh, and just in case I didn't make that clear... You look stunning tonight."

The drive was interesting, and by the time they got stuck behind a donkey for a few extra metres Natasha was smiling without even knowing it. She had lived in a lot of different cities and each one had their quirks, and it was these quirks that she always loved. Tourists went to New York City to see the Empire State Building and Central Park, but it was the smaller neighbourhoods and the tiny hole-in-the-wall shops that she loved.

By the time they reached their destination she was feeling strangely serene, and when Clint kissed her she smiled against his lips and didn’t try to deepen it.

“Thank you,” she replied. “And you look very handsome in black, especially with that tan.”

"I'm trying."

Not at his very best with compliments, as usual, Clint just smiled and hurried to get outside before his cheeks could show a far more embarrassing color.

On an evening that was supposed to be lady's night, of course he was gentleman enough to open the car door for Natasha, still with that small admiring smile on his lips when he watched her get out. Some evenings it could still completely undo him, how breathtaking she was, so much more than every other woman, with the simplest means like a nice dress and her hair hair falling down on her shoulders. Dry from the air by now, it was curlier than usual. He couldn't resist nuzzle his face against it for just a second when he closed the car door.

But he had promised her to not delay their way to the restaurant, so he didn't try to go for another hug or kiss. He just took her hand to lead her down the street, into the direction of that certain restaurant. He, knowing where he had to look, could spot it already in the distance, though very small, all white and neat at the very beginning of that rocky arm that was Naxos.

But on the little way they had to go there, there was still all kind of nice things to find and recognize.

"I might have been drinking in all of these at last once", he admitted with a rueful grin when the passed the third pub, crammed between the run-down living houses. No big change here, maybe a bigger TV for football matches and one or two ice cream flavors for the tourists more. But these always stayed the same, a late night hangout for lonely guys like him who just needed to get wasted.

The places on the beach side were much nicer, this was where the families used to party. There were slot machines, kid playgrounds and table tennis wherever you looked. Down by the beach itself, quiet music from one of the other party could be heard.

"Some guy used to challenge me in table tennis for a couple of beer everytime I came ashore", he remembered when he spotted a young couple doing just that, very passionately trying to win the upper hand in the game. "When he finally found out he didn't stand a chance, we changed the match to tabletop soccer, and my fate was sealed. Can't beat an Italian in soccer, let me tell you."

Natasha actually waited until Clint rounded the car and opened the door for her before getting out. If he wanted to play the romantic she wouldn’t ruin his fun, and sometimes it was kind of nice to go the traditional route, especially when he ended up looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

Holding his hand comfortably, they walked unhurriedly, taking in the sights around them and enjoying the warm evening air. When he started to tell his stories she smiled and listened intently, always happy to hear more tales of his life. “Might?” she teased with a raised eyebrow but otherwise stayed silent.

The street was a lively one, that was for sure, with hotspots and activities for all ages. It was nothing Natasha had expected considering how rustic it was near their little house, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. She could picture Clint here, playing games with the other men, drinking and laughing the night away. Did he ever leave here with women? Take them back to the house, or maybe to his boat? Were there many? Or maybe a special one that waited for him? She didn’t think these thoughts with jealousy but curiosity, the desire to know all she could about him. There was no point in being jealous of the past, and no reason to be jealous now. Clint was far too crazy about her for any other woman to be a threat.

“I do hope you alternated after that,” she replied. “Or at least agreed to buy each other the drinks.”

"Kind of. Tried to teach the other a few things. You know me, always eager to learn something new with my hands."

That slightly embarrassed smile on Clint's lips deepened, for a moment his eyes were glued to a free table soccer table, but he didn't make a move to hold. He was taking Natasha very seriously when she threatened him, no matter how playfully... Maybe on the way back. Or any other day. They would be here for a while still, after all.

The last, small part of the way they could actually take on the beach itself, right through a party that wasn't private or belonged only to club guests. And at least it was not completely out of their age league either. They could take off their shoes and walk right through the soft, slightly cool sand to the little house on a small white platform that was their destination.

There was some Samba rhythm playing when they strolled along on the side of the dancing people, and Clint couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Natasha playfully. It had been some time since last they had danced.

"I know, you said no delays..."

For a moment Natasha thought he was back to their naughty teasing again, but seeing that look on his face and how he gazed wistfully at the tables made her forget all about their earlier games. She was about to suggest he take a turn when he tugged her gently away. Later, then, whether today or tomorrow, she would make sure he got back here to play.

Falling into step beside him again, she paused only briefly to remove her shoes before setting foot on the sand. Letting them dangle from the fingers of her free hand she glanced around at the people who were dancing and laughing and seemingly carefree.

Catching Clint’s eye when he spoke she could not mistake the twinkle there and soon found herself grinning in return. “I did,” she replied, “but I suppose one dance won’t leave me completely ravenous...” Dancing wasn’t something they got to do often, and it was hard to refuse the opportunity.

"We're nearly there anyway. So if I manage to exhaust you, at least we'll get our food soon."

Clint showed a perfect little bow and took Natasha's hand again, holding it just a little higher when he lead her closer to the dancing crowd as if they were at some high class ball and about to do the opening dance. Nothing that formal but though this was something they seldom trained and even more seldom had had to practice in the past, he didn't say no to a hot Latin rhythm if Natasha was the partner...

The current song was just ending and coming up was some old Madonna tune back from the days when Madonna had actually made music. A pretty slow samba, perfect for two people who might be a little out of training. Though temptation was big, Clint kept the necessary small distance between them when he took Natasha in his arms and kept his hand on her waistline instead of below like the gentleman he was. But the mischievous grin on his lips let her know that he wasn't planning to make it too chaste anyway.

After a few basic steps he got more courageous with what he remembered about this rhythm and led her into a few faster sequences to warm them up. As soon as they had enough space and she was with her back to him for the first time, he lifted her up in the air for just a quick swirl - her dress wasn't exactly best for such adventures - and sat her back down safe and secure and a lot closer to him than before. With their bodies in a close embrace and his arms folded in front of her belly now, he reduced their movement mostly to their hips for a few beats, burying his face into the crook of her neck to tell her again how lovely she looked right now. That was the deal about dancing, really, the excuse for such closeness, moving together to some hot rhythm and enjoying Natasha's lithe, deadly movement in such a harmless, erotic motion for once.

“Just don’t exhaust me too much or you might throw a wrinkle into our later plans,” she replied with a grin. She actually felt really good, much better than she had probably since they’d arrived. At the moment she felt like she could go all night, though she would probably pay for it tomorrow. Good thing she wasn’t one for planning that far ahead.

Dropping her shoes onto the sand, Natasha let Clint lead her in the dance, and they fell into rhythm easily. The steps were easy at first, and carried out rather professionally, but eventually they loosened up and started improvising. A light laugh escaped her lips when Clint picked her up, and she was not at all surprised when he set her down a lot closer than before, his arms snaking around her and holding her flush against him. With one hand curled around the back of his neck and her other covering his arm on her stomach, she moved her hips with his, closing her eyes and letting the music and their movements sweep her away.

Why did they not dance more often? Maybe this was something else, like the cooking, that they should find time to do. Or maybe it was better because it happened so seldom. Either way, she was definitely enjoying herself. “Those are some smooth moves, Barton. I may have to hire you for some private lessons,” she said, her smile evident in her voice.

"I'm at your service full-time, M'lady", Clint murmured against her skin, returning the smile he knew she'd feel.

As much as he would have loved to keep her close like that, with her sweet smell in his nose and her warmth all over his body, feeling her every step... Natasha pressing her perfect ass against him, that was a little too dangerous for his hormones.

Reaching for her hand again, he turned her around and went back to that small distance, mostly to let his dick know that now was definitely not the time. For a few seconds, holding both her hands between them, he just enjoyed watching Natasha use these deadly legs of hers, the extraordinary grace she put into her every move. Then he pulled her close for something that wasn't a kiss, not quite yet, more a grin against her lips, without really touching them.

"Don't think you need much teaching, though... You're breathtaking."

After making that clear, he softly pushed her out of his dancing space to do a few steps separately, in a parallel formation that wasn't completely clean if someone insisted on looking, but he didn't really care. With half an ear he noted that many people were not only watching them but there were a few admiring whistles. Here and there one of the girls threw him a very interested glance while some guys couldn't take their eyes off Natasha. Flattering but unwelcome.

He was quick to lead Natasha close again, that playful grin on his lips growing even wider when he wrapped his arm around her a little tighter, more secure than before.

"Don't castrate me, beautiful... Just trying something."

With the next beat, he pushed against her hand without taking his other arm off her, challenging her to lean back, and then let her body down nearly to the floor. Of course only to pull her back up immediately, a lot closer again this time, and all without even getting sand in her hair.

Natasha paid no heed to the attention they were getting; in fact she barely even noticed it. She only had eyes for Clint.

For so many months he had been little more than a shell of his former self and she had started to fear that Loki had taken a part of him that they would never get back. He hid himself away, wallowed in guilt and shut her out for so long, but this... she could barely contain the swell of emotion she was feeling seeing him like this.

He looked completely and utterly free.

She knew it wouldn’t last, that there was more darkness lurking within him, but he had started opening up to her, and had more good moments than before, but that playful grin and devil may care attitude was Clint, her Clint, through and through.

She let him lead, let him pull her close and push her away, never once faltering. His words caused her to raise an eyebrow, wondering just what he had in mind, but he didn’t keep her waiting. Trusting to his strong hold to keep her from falling she leaned back and couldn’t help but let out a laugh when he pulled her upright almost instantly again to the approval of the crowd. Snapping her head up, her hair flying wildly around her face, her eyes twinkled with her smile. “You’re just lucky you didn’t drop me. I would hate to ruin this dress.”

"As if I'd ever drop you."

Clint murmured it close to her lips again while he lead them in a few last, much calmer steps to end their little performance. This time he didn't hesitate to kiss her, slow and sweet and longing, and when they parted he was breathing faster for more reasons than that little workout.

"We definitely need to do this more often."

He gave her another short kiss on her cheek when the last tones of the current song faded and wrapped his arm around her waist to lead her back to the sidewalk. His cheeks were a little red, more from the attention they got than the dance, but that stupid grin was still on his face.

"Thanks for the pleasure, Mylady."

She knew he never would. The only time he’d ever let her fall was if he was there to catch her.

Despite the audience Natasha gave herself willingly to that kiss; what more perfect way to end the dance? Looking up to meet his eyes when they parted, she could see everything she was feeling mirrored back at her, could feel his heart hammering in his chest as quickly as her own.

“I think I can agree to that,” she replied before the mood reluctantly passed. Collecting her shoes she didn’t bother to put them back on, even when they reached the sidewalk. She could do so when they reached the restaurant, and by then all the sand should be gone from the soles of her feet.

“The pleasure was not entirely yours, believe me,” she said.

Clint pressed her a little closer to him instead of an answer and caressed her arm and shoulder with softly circling fingertips while they walked, leaving the cheerful scene behind. Definitely had been fun and it demanded for a repeat performance, but by now he felt a little hungry too. It had been too long since the last time a really good swordfish steak had been on his plate.

When they reached the stairs up to the small building which was partly hovering straight over the water, he leaned down to put his sneakers back on. With that boyish grin spreading on his lips again, he turned to Natasha, still kneeling, and held his hand out to her.

"Need help with these shoes, Mylady?"

Of course she was perfectly capable of doing this herself, but sometimes you just really wanted to pamper your girl a bit.

Between the swimming earlier and the dancing now Natasha had definitely worked up an appetite, so by the time they reached the restaurant she was more than ready to eat. While Clint quickly slipped his feet back into his sneakers, Natasha leaned against the wall and took her time brushing the sand off of her feet and from between her toes.

When Clint reached for her hand while on bended knee in front of her she felt a momentary feeling of panic. He had joked about marriage a few times while they were here, and she had teased back about his method of proposing. Had he been more serious than she had thought? Was this...”

Before she could finish that thought he spoke and she was surprised to find that among her relief there was a hint of disappointment. It was silly, they weren’t the marrying kind, and even if they were she couldn’t imagine such a traditional proposal from Clint.

Shaking it off, she handed him the shoes and leaned back against the wall again to steady herself while he put them on. “My very own Prince Charming,” she said, brushing her fingers lightly through his hair. Who would have ever thought that she could have anything even resembling a fairytale?

"Not pretty enough for a Disney prince, I'm afraid."

Clint quickly lowered his head before the lights shining down from the restaurant could reveal his blush. Natasha's slightly confused and uneasy expression just a second ago, had made him worry that she was getting sick of his clowning around after all, so it was a relief to have her joking back instead.

Since he had a feeling, that wasn't just his stomach growling, he tried not to keep them up with more fooling around but fitted the shoes back on Natasha's feet quickly enough, closing the thin straps with sure fingers. Only before he got up, he gave her lower leg a soft, admiring caress through that slit in her dress.

"Come on. I think we deserve our feast tonight."

“Good,” she replied, smiling down at him after pushing away her earlier thoughts. “I never was a fan of ‘pretty’ men.”

She preferred a man that wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, one with hands roughened from real work and who would take a t-shirt and jeans over Armani any day.

Thankfully Clint didn’t linger long in his task, probably heeding her earlier warning, and though he let his hand wander it wasn’t long before they were on their way up the stairs to the restaurant. Already she could smell a dozen delicious scents wafting down toward them.

The restaurant was only half-full, not really crowded on a weekday like this, which was just perfect. Clint didn't even need to bribe the waiter nearing them, to snatch one of the popular tables by the windows. Right where you could look outside and down and see nothing but water.

"Perfect."

He fell down on his chair with a happy little sigh while the waiter held out Natasha's chair for her - and at least tried to keep his eyes off her ass - and got lost in the view for a few seconds. The dancing lights of boats in the distance, the last of sunlight fading in a beautiful orange tone on the horizon. Just what he needed after a troublesome day.

He saw it more in the reflection than heard it that the waiter had asked something and absent-minded murdered something about the menu and a glass of water. If Natasha didn't mind, maybe he'd have a glass of wine later, just for the sake of enjoying it, but right now there were other things to enjoy.

"So.... You like it, I hope?"

Smiling at the waiter who held her chair for her, Natasha settled into her seat. Asking for just a glass of water as well, she turned her eyes to the windows, taking a moment to enjoy the view. It was beautiful, hovering over the water as they were with the last rays of sunshine disappearing over the horizon. The water was tinted orange and pink and little lights slowly appeared in the distance indicating all the boats out upon the water.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, finally tearing her eyes away to meet Clint’s gaze. “Definitely a good choice.”

Opening her menu she began to peruse the various plates on offer. “Any recommendations?”

"I've heard they make a pretty mean salmon risotto."

Clint finally had opened his own menu after staring outside for half an eternity. He held it up a little higher to hide the hint of blush on his cheeks. He wasn't sure, he wanted to tell Natasha about certain company he had had back then on that evening, who exactly had been such a fan of rice and fish.

One of the few really bad down phases in his months in the area, just coming ashore from one and a half month without a break on his boat... Truth be told, he couldn't remember really much from that night except for not waking up alone but to some pretty unexpected bed companion. Which was in this case not due to some memory block but simply his good old friend Jack Daniels.

"You know me, me, I'm more of a cavemen. Give me a big chunk of meat and I'm happy. I'll probably just go with my swordfish steak again."

Natasha considered the suggestion as she perused the menu, giving Clint an odd look over the top of it as he brought his own menu up between them to fully obscure him from view.

In the end she settled on a shrimp dish, giving the waiter her order when he made his way back to the table. Handing over her menu, she turned her eyes back to the beautiful view, the water practically black in the dark. “How long did that mission last?” she asked. She had a vague idea, but it had been before she had noticed the change in her feelings, before she had started to count the days they were apart. Or maybe it had been more denial, with her purposefully not watching the calendar, convincing herself that she didn’t miss him as much as she had.

The road they had taken to get to where they were now had been long and winding, but so worth it in the end.

"Not sure."

Clint frowned a little. Now he wasn't the best with dates, alright, but that usually went more for birthdays and not for his work. Then again, the way his brain refused to bring up anything bad that might have happened around these lands, he wasn't surprised.

"After they extracted me to get that blade out of my back, I've been out a week or two. Pretty sure I missed the Christmas party on the Helicarrier because of that crap, so yeah, make that December. And when I left there was still snow in the Central Park. Around February I guess. I packed like going to the Arctic. You would have laughed your ass off."

He nodded outside, grinning wryly.

"Gets pretty chilly out there in the winter."

So roughly eight or nine months. While much of it was spent on the water, that was certainly enough time to really get comfortable in this place.

Natasha had been on another mission when he had been shipped out and had only found out about his post upon her return two weeks later. She remembered feeling upset but hadn’t let herself think about why. She also remembered when he had come back injured. She hadn’t let herself linger at his bedside, though she had spent time there at night when he was sleeping and nobody else was around to see her. The party, though, she had taken advantage of everyone else’s absence to spend the time with him though he hadn’t been awake.

“You never did like the cold,” she said with a fond smile. Unlike her, who was never bothered by it. All part of her conditioning.

"Nah. Too many bad associations with the winter in New York."

Clint smiled back with a little shrug and sipped on his glass thoughtfully. Memories of living on the street were one thing, yeah. But his sensitivity had gotten so much worse after certain encounters with crazy-ass aliens and magic. Winter, that was only freezing to the very bone to him, freezing in his very soul, his brains paralyzed in ice, piercing, terrifying blue instead of clean white. The dull nothingness of a starry night and the deadly view of space.

He knew his arms were covered in goose-bumps and didn't even try to hide it or rub it away. Natasha knew anyway. Some things you just had to live with.

"It will go away, eventually. We'll just have to take a trip to Russia one day, remember? Just do fun stuff like... I don't know. Ice skating. Make better memories."

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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