study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

Clint had felt her hesitate and held back once she laid down beside him, just shortly reached out to caress her arm, press her hand, letting her know, he agreed. Plenty of time tomorrow night when they would have gone through all the bullshit on the way.

"Stay aware please, in case I wake you up again", he muttered, sleepiness seeping through his voice. "Don't want to hurt you by accident."

“You won’t,” she had said softly, curling up against his side. It wasn’t too long before they were both fast asleep.

The night passed with no incident, surprisingly, and they both woke rather refreshed and ready to face whatever was to come. They were ready early so they had a full breakfast out before meeting Fury for their appointment. He already had a pretty good idea of what to expect when they walked in, and while Natasha was armed with statistics on how much vacation they had earned over the years and how little they had both taken, it seemed that he had already made up his mind before they walked in. Clint’s state of mind had been noticeable to those who knew him best, and despite their issues Fury trusted and respected Clint and wanted what was best for him. While he was loathe to lose Natasha as well he had granted them an extended leave on the condition that they check in periodically, allowing no more than a week to pass before doing so. He made it no secret that if they didn’t he would find them.

Overall the day had been as painless imaginable, and even the flight overseas had gone well. The plane had even had the newest Bond film to watch and make fun of to pass the time.

They had a stopover in Germany, and with a few short hours to kill they tried to pass the time with a little browsing.

Clint felt tired, and the day wasn't even half over.

The meeting with Nick hadn't been half as bad as expected. The fact that in the eyes of his employers, he couldn't leave the country without a babysitter he'd already put up with, after all. And Nick at least wasn't trying to be an ass about it.

The look that Maria had thrown him on the way out, hadn't exactly been harmless. Just as little as those of some other agents they had met. But nothing he wasn't used to.

At least he had full control of his accounts again and didn't make an idiot of himself anymore when he wanted to buy coffee for Natasha and him. And the small duty free bar where they wanted to wait for the next flight was remote enough.

Still it was there when Clint remembered why he hadn't been too happy about the flight route. It was ridiculous how much it should not bother him and did anyway. Two hours from here was just a little close for his taste.

He tried to distract himself with surfing on his phone but the thought that S.H.I.E.L.D. was certainly monitoring his history, wasn't making it fun.

He sipped on his still too hot coffee and stared outside at the runways, trying to get lost in the promise of powerful machines to take off to the skies, the way he had once enjoyed it so much. Instead the few jets waiting for their next tour blurred into the shape of a sharp small Falcon on his mind. A machine that he shouldn't miss as much after what he had done with it and experienced in it, and still did.

Unnerved from his own restlessness he finally went to watching the passing people outside which turned out to be the worst of idea of all. Everyone who looked at him for longer than a split second made him nervous. As if it was just a matter of time, until someone would recognize him and call for local police. Knowing that every potential mug shot had long been killed by the network guys, helped only until the next person hurried by, probably scared off by the scowl on his face.

"Great... Add paranoia to the list of your mental evaluation about me", he groaned, frustrated.

Clint was distracted, and at first Natasha thought that it was just the tension of the day finally catching up with him. When she finally realised what was wrong she kicked herself for not seeing it sooner.

Of course he had been in Germany that day, the reports had said so later, but she didn’t like to think of it, didn’t like to think that she had been there as well but had fallen for Loki’s distraction instead of going to find Clint. She couldn’t have known he would be there, of course, but that didn’t keep her from regretting that she hadn’t.

She noticed how he was looking around, how he was searching every face for signs of recognition, and it was this attention that was earning him the strange looks, not the other way around.

“If you ignore them they won’t even notice you,” she said, placing on hand lightly on his arm. People saw anything if they looked close enough. “Look at me,” she continued. “Pay none of them any mind, okay? Just look at me.”

Following that order should be easy enough. Looking at Natasha was one of Clint's favorite hobbies, after all.

Instead he found himself lock his eyes on her hand, and his, after he took it over the distance of the small round table. She was always there, always understanding, that was why he trusted her with this trip... But sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what she really thought when another situation like this happened. He wasn't the man she had got to known and appreciate anymore.

"Sometimes I feel like there's nothing left of me but this. Nothing but fear and anger."

It was hard. Seeing Clint like this, knowing how damaged he was, was so very hard, but Natasha wasn’t ready yet to accept that it was irreversible.

“I don’t believe that,” she said, squeezing his hand. She couldn’t believe it. She knew that there was more to him, that the man she trusted and loved was still in there. “I have seen men consumed by fear and anger, and men like those would not have bought me flowers.” She smiled softly at him. “And they would not be here today, trying to get themselves back.”

Clint could vaguely remember that they had this conversation before... many years ago. Only their places had been reversed back then. No matter how hard Natasha had tried to push him away, convince him that it was useless... He had never stopped believing in her. And she had not disappointed him. He didn't owe her any less than trying the same.

This wasn't the place for deep discussions, so he just pulled her hand close and pressed his lips to her palm.

"I'm trying. I'm not the giving up type, at least that I can say for myself."

Clint had never given up on her, and he had helped her discover who she really was, so there was no way she would turn her back on him now.

Leaning forward a little when he brought her hand to his lips, she brushed her thumb over his cheek. “You never were,” she said. “And neither am I.” Only once had she been close to giving up everything, and that was when Clint had found her, when she had been at her lowest point, and he had pulled her back and raised her up. She owed him everything. “You know how stubborn I can be.”

Clint just nodded, with a weak smile. There probably wasn't a more stubborn person on this whole planet. He couldn't imagine someone having gone through everything Natasha had and still fighting on like that.

If she could do that, it should be more than easy for him to overcome a few days of horror, technically he knew that, but that knowledge didn't help just set his heart right. And he couldn't wait for it to happen. He had to make first steps himself.

"Sometimes wonder if I should visit the guy I took down here", he murmured, turning his sight vaguely into the direction of that one city not far from here. "The one who survived. Don't know if it would make things better or worse for any of us."

Despite the similarities in their situations, never once did Natasha ever feel that Clint was overreacting. Yes, she had gone through years of being brainwashed and manipulated and his encounter had only lasted days, but that didn’t make it any less traumatic. He hadn’t gone through what she had, he couldn’t know how it felt, just like she couldn’t really know what he was dealing with. Painful situations weren’t measured in time.

She watched his face when he mused about the survivor of his attack here, and though she understood where he was coming from she shook her head.

“It may not make things worse, but it wouldn’t make them better either,” she said. “Do you think he would want to hear that you had been forced to shoot him? It won’t make him feel any better about it, and would only cause him to relive a pain he has probably moved on from.” She didn’t mean to sound harsh, and her voice was anything but, but sometimes people needed to hear the direct truth. “You can’t live in the past, Clint. You can’t go back and fix things, you can only try to atone for them now.”

If anyone knew about atonement it was her.

After pondering about it for a few more seconds, Clint pressed Natasha's hand gently and let go off it then.

"You're probably right. I should really talk about these things more with you."

It wasn't any easier being here now, so close where only the first of many murders had encountered, but at least the weight of being stuck had been lifted off his shoulders. He couldn't take it back, no one ever could. There was only moving on, no matter how much it hurt. That pain probably was a part of this atonement thing too.

When Clint released her hand Natasha rested it on the table, still within his reach.

“Yes, you should,” she said, offering a slight smile. She hoped that he would. This trip wasn’t just about relaxing and avoiding everything, it was about healing, and part of that involved dealing with things. She would give him a few days to become comfortable in their vacation spot, but after that she would have to start prompting him to talk. She wouldn’t push him, but he had to know that she wanted to listen, wanted to help him, and felt that talking about it was something he needed to do.

“Only a couple more hours and we’ll have the travel part behind us and we can just relax,” she said conversationally. I would be late by the time they got there, so going right to sleep was probably in the cards, but the next morning they would wake up to warm sun and no obligations; all the time in the world to do whatever they wanted.

"Best thing I've heard all day."

Clint took a quick look on his wrist. Boarding wouldn't start before another hour, but he didn't feel much like sitting around here anymore. Getting a little closer in public than one should, had earned them a few glances. Living a spy life, you soon learned to avoid attention. Especially in a place like this.

"Want to take a look around? Or visit the viewing area? Pretty big traffic here, there should be some interesting birds in the air."

Natasha was used to traveling, had spent a good part of her life en route from one place to the next, but that didn’t mean she actually enjoyed it. She liked seeing other parts of the world, but the actual travel part was tedious and uncomfortable. Getting a long, hot shower to wash away the grimy feeling that travel left, and crawling into bed sounded really good right about then.

She agreed to Clint’s suggestion with a smile and a nod. Finishing her coffee she got to her feet, stretching a little, before reaching for his hand again to hold as they walked. She wanted to keep him close, just in case, she she also secretly enjoyed the normalcy of the action. “We could play ‘I Spy’ with the types of planes,” she said, smirking at the choice of words. It would hardly be a challenge, though; they could both identify every aircraft out there in their sleep.

"Yep, and if we power up the game with the year of construction, I'll actually have a chance of beating you for once", Clint grinned.

It continued the way it had started on the weekend. Just a few minutes after another of these uncomfortable situations, when his throat felt suddenly too tight and his skin started to crawl, they were back to joking. Back to relaxing.

He couldn't remember them ever holding hands like this outside of a job but he certainly didn't mind. From time to time he caressed Natasha's skin softly with his thumb and threw her a smile as they walked, to show her things were okay. That he had found his balance back for the moment.

Being in the middle of a crowd still wasn't his favorite place but then again, it had never been. A few minutes of fresh air on the viewing terrace really sounded nice now.

Still he slowed down for a moment when they passed a quiet, nearly empty corner with slot machines, where a familiar logo caught his eye, and his smile grew immediately.

"Nice. They've got a Pac-Man multiplayer. Haven't seen one of these in ages. There was one in the first orphanage Barney and me were in. Didn't work half of the time, but when it did, we were addicted to it. He always let me win."

“A small chance,” she teased, feeling her unease settle a little at his grin. She didn’t know if she was helping, encouraging the lightheartedness when there was still so much darkness within him, but this was hardly the place to talk about any of it. They could do all the talking he needed to once they got to their destination, but she knew him. Over the weekend he had opened up to her, but she knew he had to do so in small doses.

It was strange just wandering along, hand in hand, without it being a cover, but despite the odd feeling Natasha found herself enjoying it. It was rare they got to be normal in public, they didn’t really do normal, but maybe they could, maybe this time away they could learn how. Not everything had to be about the job, and not everything had to be guarded and kept secret. They could show each other off, they didn’t have to pretend there was nothing between them. It would take some time to get used to, but they could just be.

On the way to the viewing terrace, Natasha ended up a step ahead of Clint when he slowed to a stop outside of a small arcade. Looking back at him she was pleased to see such a wide smile on his lips, though his words surprised her. He didn’t talk about Barney often, nor the early years of his childhood in general. Her smile was soft and genuine, feeling happy and privileged that he would share this little glimpse into his past with her.

“I assume you were better at shooting games,” she said. In all honesty, she didn’t know much about Pac-Man or any other game; games were not something she had been allowed in the Red Room, nor something she’d had much experience with before meeting Clint. He had since introduced her to gaming at home, but not the old fashioned arcade games.

"Not necessarily."

Clint's smile remained, though a hint of bitterness and melancholy mixed in it.

"Technically, Barney is the better shooter of the two of us. He takes less compromises. He doesn't say no."

He tried to shrug the new tension in his shoulders off and made another step to leave the arcade behind, this new surge of memories that actually wasn't such a bad one and still always seemed to turn into one.

Did it really have to be this way? Nothing in his past the he could think of without blame, anger, blood? If he didn't want that, he had to work to make it stop, that was what he just told Natasha. Move on from the bad memories, make up for his own shit and try to replace the rest with good ones. Maybe this place was as good to continue this mission as any.

Instead of passing the arcade by, he suddenly turned, still holding Natasha's hand, and pulled her through the glass doors inside, already searching for some change in his pockets.

"Ladies first..."

Taking a small, mocking bow, he pointed at the seat of the mentioned multiplayer.

"That way you get to choose your pac-man too. Don't take the female one if you don't want to wear a ribbon on your head."

Natasha wasn’t sure whether to inwardly kick herself or to just sigh when she seemed to say exactly the wrong thing. She settled for a little of both. “Not saying no doesn’t make anyone a better shooter. I would argue that you are better because you only take the right shots.”

If Clint didn’t compromised, didn’t say no, then she wouldn’t be here today, and she refused to believe that that made him inferior in any way.

Moving to continue on their walk, she was surprised when he suddenly turned and pulled her into the arcade. For the briefest moment her instinct was to pull away but she let him lead her, his sudden enthusiasm both intriguing and amusing. Stopping just beside the game in question, Natasha gave him a look like he’d lost his mind before chuckling and shaking her head.

“I think you would look better with a ribbon than me,” she said, her eyes lingering on his a moment before she gave in and took her seat.

"Yeah, I'll suggest it on the next undercover mission."

Grinning, Clint threw his non existent long hair back over his shoulder and filled the machine with a few coins then. Better to stick to joking around than get back to that other hurtful subject.

If he still would want to answer to Natasha's remark, he could have told her that he definitely didn't always make the right choice, the right shot. And the ones he had done wrong, had been the worst mistakes of his life.

Save for that one back then that had gone through her shoulder instead of her throat or her heart, and this was one of the few things he couldn't regret. The rest... was for another time, when they weren't trying to have fun.

He stood close enough behind her to breathe in the smell of her hair, nudge his cheek against her temple for a moment when he leaned over her to help her get started with the few settings.

"Well then, good luck and don't get eaten or it's my turn", he grinned when the countdown was on and the first bunch of ghosts appeared in the labyrinth behind the pac-man. Instead of stepping away, he rested his his hands on Natasha's waist, making use of the remoteness of their corner, and teased her with light caresses. "I'm not distracting you, am I?"

Natasha rolled her eyes at his antics, but she did so with a smile. He didn’t let his silly side out to play as often as he used to, so she was glad to see it whenever he did.

She was sure he didn’t have to stand behind her while he set the game up and gave her the few instructions, and he definitely didn’t have to touch her, but she certainly wasn’t going to argue when he did. Soon she was ready to go, though, and with her hand on the joystick she was all business as the countdown ran.

Of course he wasn’t about to play fair, though, and Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly as his warm hands encircled her waist. “Not a bit,” she replied, her focus on the game as she started to move the little pie-shaped character around the screen, chomping on dots and avoiding ghosts.

"No? Maybe I have to try harder then."

Clint slipped two fingertips casually under the hem of her shirt to tease her side and belly, casually keeping an eye on the door to make sure, they were still unwatched.

"Focus training and all... Can't let get you rusty."

He chuckled just a little too close to her throat to tickle her with his breath and left a quick kiss there.

Natasha became more and more determined by the moment not to let Clint throw her off, which she knew would only make him more determined to do just that. She was perfectly okay with that.

“Oh, so this is all for my benefit,” she said, shifting the joystick rapidly and just barely avoiding one of the ghosts. “Of course it couldn’t simply be your method of cheating.” He really wasn’t playing fair, letting his breath and his lips move so briefly over her skin.

"Cheating is such a bad word for turning the odds in your favor..."

This time he whispered it into her ear, again just short enough to let her feel the touch before he backed away. His hand had settled warm and unmoving on her belly, fingertips just teasing along the hem of her pants from time to time, bumping the button.

"I'm impressed by your maneuvering skills, Agent Romanoff. This will come in handy when I start teaching you how to fly."

An involuntary shiver ran through Natasha’s body as Clint’s breath played over her ear. It was one of her sensitive spots, which of course he knew, and he never failed to use it to his advantage. “Call it whatever you want, it always ends in payback,” she replied a little too sweetly.

He did back off a little after that, though, with his hands just settling comfortably against her, and Natasha became completely engrossed in the game. His voice almost startled her when he spoke again but she didn’t flinch and didn’t falter.

“Fly?” she repeated, the offer catching her by surprise. “Fly what?”

"Seem to remember I offered you sometime on the weekend how to get your ass out of situations without a pilot", Clint murmured, too close to her ear again, to provoke another of these sweet little shivers. "I don't make any promises, you know. And seeing how well you handle a joystick, it won't take long for you to become a professional."

In fact she was doing so well that his attempts to distract her didn't show any effects at all. Time for some more provocations, it seemed.

After another quick glance over his shoulder, he slipped his fingertips under the hem of her pants, making sure, his sleeve and her shirt covered everything. With the thin fabric of her panties between his fingertips, he tugged on it just lightly from time to time, to unsettle Natasha just a little more without really doing anything.

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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