study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

"Yep, no need to worry about that."

Interpreting that look on Natasha's face just right, Clint rather pulled back a little and straightened up in his chair before things could get dangerous. Which of course didn't keep him from still teasing her with his words.

"I'll keep you so busy tonight, you won't need to workout for a week."

He eyed her over the edge of his glass with a very suggestive twinkle in his eyes but couldn't keep it up for much before breaking into a chuckle.

"I blame it all on you, red. I've just managed for an hour not to think about how much I want you."

Clint heeded her warning and set about behaving himself, at least physically. While their actions could easily be seen by the other patrons and staff of the restaurant, they weren’t likely to be overheard, so Natasha had no qualms against continuing their little game verbally.

“You know I will hold you to that, Barton,” she replied, finishing her meal and pushing the remainder aside. “Among other things.” Like her body, the bed, maybe the wall of the shower...

Sipping at her water, she allowed herself to get lost in his gaze, in the very flirty and suggestive look in his eyes, though when he chuckled she smiled brightly.

“I guess that it a testament to just how good the food here is,” she said, setting her glass on the table. “Should we continue with desert, or do you have something else in mind?”

"I don't think I can fit any desert in there right now."

Clint groaned a little just for the show and patted his belly. No room for that kind of desert, at least, as a pretty filthy grin in Natasha's direction let her know.

"We can just go sit a little by the beach if you like", he continued, a little more serious and careful, not sure what she would think of something so awfully sappy. "I really like the view on the ocean by night."

“Mm, a little later, then,” she said with a similar grin.

She was surprised by the suggestion that followed, having assumed that with pretty much starting the foreplay before even leaving the house, Clint would be in a rush to get home again, but even after all these years she couldn’t fully predict him. “That sounds nice,” she replied, and it did. They had the rest of the evening, and all night, so what was the rush? The dancing had been a welcomed surprise, so who knew what else awaited them tonight.

Clint sighed a small breath of relief and looked up to wave for the nearest waiter when he found they were already approached by one. And not with a too pleasant surprise.

Right. He should have thought of that. So much for trying not to get into awkward situations.

It was tradition for restaurants to serve their guests a small pint of grog after a meal, he had simply forgotten about it. And while he usually enjoyed giving his stomach a little help like that, he didn't want to drink when Natasha couldn't. It kind of felt like an asshole move. Send the man away? Bad idea if he didn't want to have Natasha's fork stuck in his eye. He felt pretty stupid suddenly and couldn't think of anything to say when the waiter offered them their glasses.

Reaching under the table to replace her shoe on her foot, Natasha looked up when the waiter stopped and lingered at their table, clearly not just there to be asked for the bill. Straightening back up in her chair she took note of the drink on his tray before looking over at Clint for explanation. Luckily the waiter gave one as Clint looked like he would just end up sputtering if he tried to talk.

Normally she would have accepted, and for a brief second she almost did; for a brief second she forgot that there was a reason that she couldn’t. Then she remembered.

“[Thank you but I can’t],” she replied in Italian. When the waiter smiled and tried to charm her into it she knew she had to explain why but it was hard to get the words out. “[My date will gladly take one, but I...]” she could say it, it was easy, just two words, but saying them aloud to someone other than Clint felt terrifying. “[I’m pregnant, I can’t.]”

And there it was. It was out there, and although it was stupid and superstitious she wished she could take it back instantly. Don’t tell anyone before the first trimester, she had broken the rule.

While Clint had just felt uncomfortable, Natasha looked all but terrified and he immediately cursed himself for being such an idiot. There should have been a better way to maneuver them out of this then getting her in this situation.

He quickly took that damn glass off the tablet and asked for the bill, just to get rid off the waiter first thing. That helped drawing the guy's attention away from Natasha before he had done more than smile and congratulate her. When the man was gone, Clint emptied the damn thing without really tasting anything just to have something in his mouth before anything stupid could come out.

"I'm sorry."

He reached over the table clumsily to take Natasha's hand.

"Didn't mean to fuck up, I... This is just all so new."

Natasha returned the waiter’s smile and graciously accepted his congratulations in such a manner that nobody would have had any inkling that it was all for show. Nobody but Clint.

She sat in silence while he drank, one hand on her stomach and the other toying with her napkin on the table. When Clint’s hand covered her own she took a shuddering breath. “It’s fine,” she said, but it really wasn’t. “We’ll have to start telling people eventually, right? So why not start with the easy ones?” It wasn’t like they had told anyone important, anyone they would ever see again, but somehow that thought didn’t really help.

Extracting her hand from his, Natasha got to her feet. “I need to use the washroom. I’ll meet you at the entrance.”

Clint just nodded and let her go, knowing well enough that Natasha needed her freedom in moments like this, that it didn't do anything good to press the subject when she was upset. He emptied the rest of the water to get the taste of alcohol out of his mouth and made a short stop at the bathroom himself before leaving the restaurant. He wondered if they would actually come back here when he waved the waiters good-bye and again berated himself mentally for being such a dumb-ass. Why was it that he never found the right words when it was really needed?

He leaned against the stair railing with a deep sigh and kicked small bits of sand from the steps while he waited, trying to think of something to say when Natasha would return. He still couldn't come up with anything intelligent.

Why did this have to be so hard? Why couldn't they be looking forward to this part of their future like any other couple? He definitely wasn't helping Natasha with this burden as he had just proven so perfectly. With his hands awkwardly buried in his pockets, he waited for Natasha to join him, more restless with every passing second.

Retreating to the washroom, Natasha locked herself in one of the stalls and leaned against the wall. It was stupid, she was being ridiculous, but she still felt her eyes burning and her heart hammering. All because she had had to admit aloud to someone she didn’t even know the thing she was trying so hard not to think about, despite the toll it was taking on her body.

What was her problem, anyway? It wasn’t even as if it was a true superstition. Usually when people waited it was because the first trimester was a greater risk, and if they told their friends and family and ended up losing the child it would be that much harder to deal with. It wasn’t as if telling someone would ‘jinx’ something and make her lose the baby. She didn’t even believe in stuff like that.

Taking a few breaths she blinked rapidly and tried to get herself under control. If the morning sickness was the worst part of this whole thing then the mood swings and overwhelming emotions were definitely a very close second. She had to stop worrying about this, because while telling people couldn’t actually make anything bad happen, her stressing over everything very well could, then it would be all her fault.

Shaking herself out of this mood, Natasha forced herself to choke down any lingering worries. Clint was out there waiting for her, probably feeling guilty as he was want to do, and she couldn’t leave him to it. Exiting the stall she wet a paper towel and dabbed it just under her eyes and stared her her reflection with determination. Once she was finished she rejoined Clint where he awaited her, looking like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

“Hey,” she said as she approached, giving him the most reassuring smile she could muster. When no further words were forthcoming she instead moved on instinct and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight.

She was smiling, but it still looked strained, as if she was pushing herself just for him not to make him worry, and that didn't exactly help.

Clint could only relax a little when she was the one initiating the embrace. He pressed her against him carefully, like she could break any second, in case she needed out of his hold quickly, in case she couldn't deal with any more pressure right now. He hid his face against her neck, fed up with the whole stupid situation and mostly himself. Just one day of getting everything right, was that so hard, Barton?

"I'm stupid. I forgot", he finally mumbled, because he still couldn't think of anything else to say. "I'll try to be more creative next time."

Holding Clint so close, hearing the steady rhythm of his heart, Natasha finally felt her calm returning. Of course he proceeded to apologise and berate himself and she shook her head against him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let it affect me me so badly,” she said, taking a deep breath, just breathing him in. “I don’t believe in superstitions, they’re stupid, but I panicked. It was stupid.”

So here they were, two master assassins arguing over who was more stupid in what should have been a simple situation. Life was strange.

This was becoming so absurd that Clint now actually had to laugh, a dry, quiet chuckle, but it was better than nothing.

"Well, at least we're stupid together."

He pressed a few small, soft kisses to Natasha's neck and ran his fingertips gently through her hair, ever so softly, bringing a little order back both to her curls and hopefully into her troubled soul. They wouldn't stop going crazy about all this anytime soon, not until the pregnancy had progressed somewhat further, hopefully without problems. But instead of both freaking out, they should at least try help the partner in such a situation.

"We'll do better next time."

Another long kiss to her shoulder, then he softly guided her back to look at him, his smile.

"Peanut is fine, and you are too, right? We're getting this done. We're the best at what we do, remember?"

It really was ridiculous, and when Clint chuckled it really drove that point home. Her own short laugh was hoarse but it seemed to break the tension and she stopped clinging to him, instead settling into a comfortable embrace.

If they were both this stupid about everything then how were they even going to make this work? Because they had each other, and they would work it out like they always did. “I almost pity the kid,” she said, trying to make a joke though her heart wasn’t full in it. Clint handled it a little better with his gentle touch and kisses soothing her mind, body and soul.

Leaning back to look up at him at his urgings, she returned his smile, and while hers was still faint it was genuine. “But this isn’t what we do,” she said before shaking her head. “Just another new challenge, right? Never did shy away from those.”

"Damn right we won't. We're getting this done."

Clint touched that shy smile gently with a fingertip and then kissed it, just to keep it right there. His arms tightened around her waist, just enough to hold her close and assure her, he always had her. They had somehow caught their breath, which was probably better too, out right here in the public. But if Natasha ever needed to fall, needed to break... He would be there to put her back together.

"Come on, let's walk a little."

He pushed the last of her curls out of her face and pressed another short kiss to her forehead but let go off her then. Some people were climbing up the stairs to the restaurant, and he didn't want Natasha exposed in such a vulnerable mood if it could be avoided.

Clint sounded so sure, so determined, and it was exactly what Natasha needed right then. If she had any chance of getting through this at one piece it was with Clint there to hold her together. Returning the embrace again she felt her worries subsiding for now, along with her embarrassment at her silly behaviour. It didn’t matter, not when they were together. Clint understood, just as she understood him. It was only a minor stumbling point, and she would not let it ruin their night.

Finally pulling away, Natasha was glad that the couple that passed them seemed to think they had just been making out in the stair well, and she quickly followed Clint’s lead. Stopping to remove her shoes once more, she took his hand as they stepped out onto the sand. With the sun down the sand was slowly growing colder, and she liked the feel of it under her toes.

“Tomorrow we should look through those books and figure out what we need to know and do right now,” she said. Clearly they couldn’t avoid talking about it, so maybe if they made a plan and knew what to expect and what not to do it would make everything easier. A plan should at least set her mind at ease a little.

The ‘tomorrow’ bit was very important, though.

"Sounds like a good plan. Educating ourselves in our holiday. Hill would be so proud."

They were back passing by the beaches where the young people were partying and Clint took Natasha's hand again while they walked, searching contact, touch. Both to reassure her and himself that they had left that small bump in the road behind and could go on enjoy their evening now. More time for serious talk and think through the upcoming proceedings tomorrow.

He was feeling too full both in body and mind for another dance, so he lead Natasha past the partying people. Soon they reached a very small spot between said party and the next, locked beach area. Protected from watchers on the street by a low well, they could sit down on one of the big rocks leading to the water like they had done it just a few days ago.

Only he pulled Natasha onto his lap this time so she didn't have the cold, hard stone against her thin dress, and wrapped his arms around her waist. It was a much quieter, melancholic mood but still just as beautiful as in the restaurant. The ocean was nothing but a black moving mass now, with the moon and the stars reflected in a glittering blur.

He rested his face against Natasha's shoulder, just breathing, feeling her against him for a while and enjoying the marvel of their view. Slowly he could feel the rest of unease slip away, that he really enjoyed feeling Natasha close to him again instead of holding on to her. And that her warmth and the softness of her skin wasn't just creeping into his soul anymore but reminded his hormones, they had had some plans for tonight.

"Ready for the rest of your night, beautiful?"

And just like that it was settled; the rough moment had passed and they had a plan for tomorrow that would hopefully prevent more moments in the future. With Clint’s hand in hers and the cool sand under her feet, Natasha felt herself further relaxing with each step.

It was tempting to pull him in for another dance when they reached the party again, but she was more in the mood for something slow and that didn’t fit the up tempo music that was playing, so she let him lead on until they found a deserted spot. She could still hear the music they had left behind but it wasn’t entirely intrusive and the sound of the waves lapping at the beach helped to drown it out somewhat.

When Clint settled on the large rock, Natasha was about to brush the sand off the space beside him when he pulled her into his lap. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders with a light laugh, she let her shoes fall to the sand and settled against him. Resting her cheek on top of his head, she stared out across the dark water at the little lights that littered it like stars. All the bad feelings slowly faded away and she was left with only the happiness and comfort that she found most easily in Clint’s arms.

Eventually he spoke and a smiled curled her lips. She was glad to know that she hadn’t ruined their whole evening. She had just caused a minor delay.

“I do believe I am, handsome,” she teased, shifting slightly on his lap in what could have been a completely innocent movement but was probably nothing of the sort.

Clint let out a small hiss of surprise at the teasing movement and tightened his grasp around Natasha's waist instinctively. Fortunately, just in time his brains overrode his hormones again and he shifted away from her a little, to reign in that dangerous heat just waiting below the surface. Waiting for a last spark.

If they started as much as cuddling around here, he might get one or the other bad idea about the deceiving remoteness of this place. And then the next best person leaving one of the parties around them might get to see a lot more of them than he was willing to show in public.

So he answered her little game only with a gentle nibbling on her shoulder and prompted her to get up instead, so they could make their way back to the car.

"Well, then, if you have nothing else planned..."

While his actions prompted her to take it easy, though, his voice was challenging her to play around a little more if she liked.

Natasha grinned for the briefest second at Clint’s reaction before schooling her expression into one of the utmost innocence. Clearly the serious moment had truly passed and he was ready to get back to the earlier dirty talk, not to mention the follow through.

He managed to behave himself well enough, though, though his movements were a little rushed as he urged her to get off of his lap so they could make their way back to the car. It was going to be a long ride back to the house.

Retrieving her shoes, Natasha smoothed out her dress and brushed her hair back from her face, stretching and arching just right to accentuate her curves. “Nothing in particular planned,” she said, starting back up the beach toward the road. “Unless you want to join the party again.”

She knew the last thing he wanted right now was to mingle with a group of people, to share her and have to behave himself, which was why she couldn’t resist suggesting it. it was the last thing she wanted as well.

By now Clint was outright staring when Natasha presented her body so perfectly for him, and that promising warm tingling in his loins was becoming hard to ignore. Finally he had to force himself to look away, or he might have had trouble concentrating on the way home.

"I think we can have our own party at home", he mused when he joined Natasha on the way to the car, just half a second too late. Moving a little closer to her and wrapping his arm around her waist, so none of the people they passed on the way could hear, he added: "Because you know... You were fucking hot when we had that Samba earlier. I'm not against a repeat performance... This time without an audience..."

His fingertips drew playful circles over her hips, wandering just a little too deep.

Of course Natasha noticed the way Clint was looking at her, though she pretended not to. She did throw him a look, though, when it took him a little longer to fall into step with her than it should have.

Pressed comfortably against his side as they walked, she grinned at his words, the quiet ones meant only for her. “Mm, your own private dance, hmm?” It wouldn’t be the first time she had done exotic dancing, whether it be a striptease or a lap dance, and though that wasn’t exactly what Clint was referring to she was still putting the offer out there. She certainly wouldn’t mind performing for him with the way he looked at her so reverently and treated her the same.

“Or our own private dance.” Of course a dance together like that samba with no audience nor restrictions sounded rather delicious.

"Hmm... Wouldn't mind either way."

Clint turned his head to press a playful kiss to Natasha's ear and give it a soft nip before turning back to the street quickly. He didn't mind the amused glances of people passing them by. But it was no good running them into a column, just because Natasha was just too goddamn tempting to not touch her.

"Though, if we do this right, it would be my turn to dance for you tonight... Not sure you want to see this."

He laughed quietly and shuddered a little, remembering a very particular embarrassing undercover mission in a nightclub.

Even with the attention Clint didn’t falter in his step, as that would have just slowed them down, and it was pretty clear that neither of them wanted that right now.

Laughing at his words and the image they created, Natasha shook her head. “Maybe another time,” she said, moving her hand to rest just above his ass. “I think this time I’d rather have your hands on me like back at the party.”

Finally reaching the car she sat sideways in the passenger seat and brushed the sand from her feet once more before swinging her legs into the car and shutting the door.

"That certainly can be arranged."

Clint shivered under her touch and closed his eyes for a moment too long. It was getting harder and harder, battling the rising heat, the desire to push Natasha against the side of the car and make out like teenagers right here and now. Not in public.

He still couldn't resist leaning over once they were seated. Just for a few moments couldn't hurt, right? Just a slow, tentative kiss, playful sweeps of his tongue against her lips while his hand traveled up and down her leg, fingertips sneaking under that teasing slit in her dress.

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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