Natasha Romanoff | The Black Widow (
study_in_scarlet) wrote2013-08-11 07:32 pm
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Dancing in the Dark (for
farmboyhawk)
They didn’t get a lot of time off together, at least not enough to make a trip away worthwhile, so for this one weekend they decided to stay in the city and play tourist for the day.
They had started with a walk through Central Park before grabbing an early lunch at one of the city’s many street vendors and then wandering through the American Museum of Natural history. Natasha found the Hall of Minerals fascinating while Clint had gotten a kick out of all the dinosaur bones. They both enjoyed laying under the big blue whale with all the normal people.
Afterwards they went to a nice restaurant for supper, blending into the crowd of normal couples as best they could and Natasha actually forgot if she was playing a role or being herself as they finished their wine and shared their desserts.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely as they left the restaurant, stepping back into the cool night air. Nearby a busker played guitar and sang with surprising melody and soul, barely seeming to notice as people threw change into his open case, so caught up was he in his music.
They had started with a walk through Central Park before grabbing an early lunch at one of the city’s many street vendors and then wandering through the American Museum of Natural history. Natasha found the Hall of Minerals fascinating while Clint had gotten a kick out of all the dinosaur bones. They both enjoyed laying under the big blue whale with all the normal people.
Afterwards they went to a nice restaurant for supper, blending into the crowd of normal couples as best they could and Natasha actually forgot if she was playing a role or being herself as they finished their wine and shared their desserts.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely as they left the restaurant, stepping back into the cool night air. Nearby a busker played guitar and sang with surprising melody and soul, barely seeming to notice as people threw change into his open case, so caught up was he in his music.
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Clint made a show of a heavy sigh but didn't miss the chance for another kiss on her lips before he somehow pushed himself up and pulled Natasha up with him. He wiped the worst of mess off his skin with the fabric of his clothes before peeling them off his body, completely unashamed, and sauntering off to the bathroom naked.
"You can throw your things into the washer-dryer too, if you want, then they're good again in a few hours", he called over his shoulder with a grin. "Wanted to do a round before packing anyway. You want to order in the meantime? Just taking a quick shower."
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She let him go with only a quick affirmation before heading to the kitchen to wash her hands. Her pants were still sopping and uncomfortable, but she decided to take care of the food first before getting comfortable again. Ordering their usual, she fished enough cash out of her wallet to cover it all and set it on the counter before heading for the bathroom herself where she could already hear the water running. Removing her clothes she through them into the wash along with their still damp ones from yesterday.
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Clint peeked out from behind the shower wall, acknowledging Natasha's nudity with a short grin, and grabbed a towel. He didn't trust himself with inviting her in, so he got himself at least dry enough to grab some sweatpants for the rest of the evening. Then he made space for her, in case she wanted to shower too.
"Um... I'll just take a short look downstairs, make sure, that generator won't die on me before they bring the new one."
Fortunately he sounded far more casual than he felt after that short silly little idea he had just gotten in the shower. Probably Natasha would just laugh, or find it awkward or something, tell him to grow up... But for once he really did need to make a short check on the house, he always did in the evening, when he slept at home. These five minutes had become something of a ritual, mostly more to relish this seldom known feeling of security, of something that was his and that he was needed in. And since he already had to put on a jacket and shoes for that... Well, then he could as well do a short visit in that shop next door, owned by a very friendly, quiet old man who pretty much was the only person except for Natasha Clint wanted to deal with today still.
"Back in a second."
Hopefully his slightly red cheeks could be blamed on the shower. Though he did have a feeling, Natasha knew him far too well anyway to buy it.
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Leaning back against the washer, Natasha watched him curiously as he suddenly made a turn for the awkward. It could be her nudity distracting him, but it was hardly enough to have him blushing and acting cagey, not anymore. Even so, she let him go do whatever it was he didn’t want her to know he was doing, her mind turning over all the various possibilities but coming up with nothing satisfactory.
Tying her hair back so it wouldn’t get wet, she stepped into the shower just long enough to clean the mess from her body before drying off and heading back to his bedroom to raid his closet again. Settling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that both looked rather oversized on her, she moved back to the kitchen to collect up the money and wait for the food to arrive.
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Maybe it would make her laugh at least.
He found her in the kitchen with the food not there yet. Which fortunately meant, she'd only have a few minutes before the delivery boy would arrive, to kick his ass.
"So, um..."
His cheeks were a deep flame of red now, and he probably grinned like the last idiot when he carefully put the small bouquet of three orchids and a few jasmines on the kitchen table. Pretty much the last change he had had in his jacket pockets and they weren't completely fresh anymore but the bright colors looked nice, and the guy in the shop hopefully knew his shit about the meaning.
"I just thought..."
He shrugged a little, feeling more silly than ever.
"You know, for... today and all."
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Then he produced a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and at first her brows lowered in confusion before raising in surprise as she looked up to meet his eyes.
“You bought me flowers,” she stated, still unsure how to react. It wasn’t as if men hadn’t bought her flowers before, but they were always huge, expensive bouquets, and they were never for her. They were for Natalie or Nora or Nancy, and they never really meant anything, they were just a way to try to buy her affections.
Looking away from Clint and at the flowers again, Natasha touched the petal of one, careful not to damage it. They were slightly wilted, and not as extravagant as two dozen red roses, but she was sure she had never seen a more beautiful bouquet in her life. Picking it up she brought it to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled deeply; none had ever smelled sweeter either.
Raising her eyes to his again, she didn’t even try to hide how touched she was by the gesture. He sounded so unsure and nervous, how she expected a boy might act on a first date, but she wouldn’t know from experience, that had never been her life. He wasn’t trying to buy her or woo her; they weren’t an apology or a distraction. “You bought me flowers,” she said again. Not because he felt he had to, not because he had any particular purpose in mind, but because he wanted to, because he wanted to thank her, because he thought she might like them. She wasn’t sure his exact reason, wasn’t sure what had possessed him to do this, but it was absolutely perfect.
Walking around the counter she placed her free hand on his cheek and kissed him softly, letting him feel how much it meant to her. “They’re beautiful.” You’re beautiful.
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The last minutes had been a silent prayer that she would know what he wanted to tell her. Which was always the same. He wanted to make her smile. Make her feel good. And today, tell her how much it meant to him what she did for him.
Her kiss let that tense pressure in his stomach vanish immediately. He gladly wrapped his arms around her and allowed himself to drown in it, with half closed eyes, still watching her, because really, he never got tired of her smile. With his forehead gently resting against hers, he returned it, with all the affection, the admiration, the deep passion he felt for her. And the simple, deep joy of being with her. Being able to do this for her, to do things for her that made her happy.
"Anytime", he finally murmured, still blushing a little.
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She didn’t know what else to say so she just let herself enjoy his presence, his closeness, and that happy smile on his face. He was still blushing, and it made her smile even wider and move to press her lips to his warm cheeks.
Of course then the buzzer sounded to interrupt the moment. “Food,” Natasha said, pulling back to look at Clint again. “Why don’t you get a movie set up and I’ll get the door?” And find something to put her flowers in. Even though they were leaving tomorrow she could enjoy them tonight. Maybe she could even hang them to dry somewhere while they were away so the flowers would be preserved whenever they returned.
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He grabbed for one of the movies in his brand new box pretty blindly and grinned when it turned out to be the last with Pierce Brosnan. Not his very favorite Bond but they had the most fun potential, that much was for sure.
"Just when I was about to starve", he grinned when she joined him.
By now the street clothes had found the way to the floor and he hadn't bothered to put on a shirt again. He did have an idea, she wouldn't mind.
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Reentering Clint’s homey space, she locked the door behind her before moving back to the kitchen. There wasn’t a vase to be found in Clint’s place, though she didn’t look very hard for one, instead settling for a rather large beer stein that would have to do. Filling it with water, she carefully placed her flowers in it before carrying it and the bag of food to the living room where Clint waited, looking rather appetizing himself, a fact she knew he was perfectly aware of.
“We can’t have that,” she said, placing the glass to one side of the table so as not to block the television. Taking a seat beside him, she pulled her legs up to cross them on the cushion and set the bag of food in her lap as she pulled several containers from it. “Good thing I ordered extras.”
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Chuckling, Clint helped her arrange the various parts of their diner onto their plates in equal shares and started to dig in with little grace and patience then. It was a relict of his childhood and later, of years spent on the street. He could do courtly and luxury restaurants if he had to - though frankly the rich guy wasn't his favorite cover - but in his spare time, he always was quick with his food. Like it would be gone if he did take his time. Some things just kind of stuck. One of these days Natasha would call him a caveman for it, he was sure.
At least he thought of pouring them both a glass of wine before he started, and there was also a carafe with water on the table. Drinking much tonight definitely wasn't a good idea with all that trouble waiting tomorrow. Fury was a pain in the ass to deal without a hangover as it was.
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Setting the containers aside once the food was divvied up, Natasha removed her chopsticks from the package and broke them apart. She was pretty much an expert at using them by now, but she had barely gotten one bite in before Clint had at least a quarter of his plate cleared. Life had taught him to eat when he could, to not give anyone a chance to take it away, while Natasha had been trained to be delicate and to look alluring and attractive, even while eating. Of course this was training that Clint made it easy to brush aside, and when she looked over to see him shoveling his food into his mouth she grinned before taking a much larger and ungraceful bite herself.
Fixing her eyes on the screen, she delighted in the opening credit sequence. No matter how the rest of the movies turned out, the opening credits were always a good watch.
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"Sorry. If it gets too much, you can just put a collar on me and walk me around the house, deal?"
Very fitting. They were just watching the hero get tortured by the hot dominatrix in the uniform and the hooker boots.
"Why is it always the evil chick, though? They should hire a dominant guy in leather and fishnets for once for these scenes. Pretty sure that would freak out the guy much more."
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Taking a sip of wine, she settled in to watch the movie before throwing Clint a look for his comment, one eyebrow perfectly arched. “Because the target audience for these movies would be just as freaked out. At least half of them watch these films solely for the women,” she said. For a lot of viewers the Bond Girls were a big part of the attraction. “Would you prefer it with a man instead?”
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Shrugging, Clint sucked a little bit of sauce off his thumb and cringed at the very unpleasant pictures of water torture. Yep, definitely a good thing they were off to warm realms for a while.
"Just saying, would be kind of interesting to see the incarnation of Don Juan confronted with a guy in a sexual situation. Then the greenhorns at the academy would at least have some reference material. They don't exactly teach you how to handle a situation like that before you get to seduce the rich guy."
He made a little more show than necessary of shuddering to keep it light. He had been lucky with that kind of stuff, really, since he was mostly on his sniper post. But that night club in Budapest - long before shit had really hit the fan there - wasn't exactly his most pleasant mission memory.
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Chewing thoughtfully on a mouthful of noodles, she regarded Clint as he spoke, reading between the lines as only she could with him. He was still trying to keep the tone light, a tone she was hoping they could keep with for the evening, so she turned her attention back to the screen again. “I doubt the filmmakers would ever have the balls. Although there was that one scene in the newest movie.”
Clint was more sniper than spy, just like Natasha was more spy than soldier, but sometimes their specialities crossed over. It hadn’t been the same since New York, though. Not any of it. The more time passed the more excited she was getting about the prospect of leaving tomorrow. At first it had been all about Clint, but she found herself looking forward to it more and more herself.
“Maybe I should have packed my fishnets and leather,” she said casually, rolling a breaded chicken ball around in the sweet and sour sauce. Turning her head to look at Clint again she popped the entire thing into her mouth and grinned at him. Only for him did she ever let her silly side out. To everyone else it was pretty much nonexistent.
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Clint nearly sputtered his wine at her last teasing and shook his head with a laugh.
"You're more the corset and gloves type to me. But you know me..."
Within two seconds he was from joking to serious, from teasing to tender, reaching out to caress her knee.
"You'll drive me crazy anytime, no matter what you look like."
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When he got all sweet and tender on her she leaned over and gave him a quick peck on his cheek, unable to do much else with her mouth full. Setting her chopsticks down she placed her hand over his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” she said after she swallowed. “Because you know what vacations are for. I may go days without showering and wearing make-up. I might not even brush my hair.”
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This time he made it without blushing at least, and showed her with a quick kiss on her hand that he actually meant it. Then he was all over his food again, though. Some habits were hard to ignore.
He still meant it. On the screen there were people like Madonna, Halle Berry and Rosamund Pike doing their thing, and if he was asked, he would always be able to say honestly, there was just one woman that he truly felt attracted to.
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“Well good, because I didn’t pack much of it,” she said, smiling softly when he kissed her hand like a perfect gentleman. Then he started devouring his food again and her smile widened a little before she tucked into her own.
Honestly, she really didn't get the attraction to James Bond. Sure, he was smooth and charming, and a lot of people enjoyed the accent, but she had met enough men in her life like him who thought they were amazing and that no woman could resist them. On the screen no woman did, but Natasha knew a man like that would never stand a chance with her.
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"Why don't you ever do that for me?", he grinned at Natasha, not the least serious. "Seems we're doing our job wrong all the time. We should do some training once we arrive."
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Definitely a keeper, he was.
“Because when I do that,” she replied, gesturing toward the screen with her chopsticks, “you’re not the target.” She tried to keep the amused expression off of her face, but it was impossible when he was grinning at her like that. “Are you suggesting we forget our current training and subscribe to the double-oh-seven school of spy work?” It would actually be pretty entertaining to try to emulate these films sometime. She feigned thoughtfulness. “I suppose we could start with that scene, since there will be beaches where we’re going, right?”
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Still chuckling, Clint put his empty plate away and sipped at his wine instead. God, he definitely needed a vacation. Working for anyone but these asshats in the council sounded definitely too tempting right now.
Fortunately he was soon enough distracted by the inevitable love scene on screen. Well, that was one setting he definitely planned on copying on their holidays... Among other things. He got lost a little, imagining both of them in that little house, relaxing over some good food while they watched the waves roll below. His hand had sneaked its way on Natasha's leg again purely on instinct, harmlessly caressing, and a little he actually felt like they were already gone.
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If every day of their vacation ended the way Bond’s did then Natasha certainly wouldn’t argue, and knowing the two of them they likely would. Since finally admitting that they wanted to give this relationship thing a try, and with so much time spent apart or busy due to their jobs, they were pretty insatiable when they got a bit of time like this, completely alone and free to do whatever they wanted. It didn’t mean they couldn’t spend the day together innocently, but why deny themselves when night fell and they were alone?
Natasha smirked a little to herself when Clint caressed her leg, but she neither pushed him away nor encouraged him. She simply finished off her food and set her own plate aside before snatching up the wine glass and settling back against the sofa. “I wonder if Bond ever meets a woman who isn’t willing to fuck him after knowing him for thirty seconds,” she mused, resting her head on Clint’s shoulder.
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Clint wrapped his arm around her waist and sneaked his hand into the pocket of her - his - sweater to rest it closer against her belly.
From tropical islands it was pretty soon to ice dunes on the screen and he couldn't help but admire the shots of eternal snow, even though he knew that wouldn't be his preferred destination right now.
"Iceland... That's one place I've never ended up in", he murmured. "Looks beautiful. If I find clothes that actually keep me warm for longer than few hours... They say it's beautiful on horseback."
Well, he'd probably have to take a few lessons before because the last time he had been on horse, had been Budapest... But it definitely sounded like one of these things you wanted to do before you grew old.
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