study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

Clint had found back on his old running route completely by instinct. A few streets going downhill for warming up, then these narrow slippery old stairs that always needed a bit of balancing... Two levels up there, to wake up his thigh muscles, and finally that sprint up the last serpentines to his house. He had expected to get lost in thought again... Running usually was where he cleared his mind, recapped the last days, planned the next and made up important decisions.

Instead he found himself searching for a glimpse of the ocean between roofs and on high points, let the yearning for this calm, powerful beauty take room of bad memories. Watching the dealers build up their stands on the market place in the distance, a few of their kids playing around the boxes... Smiling at the awakening life in a sleepy, harmless village felt so much better than pondering about what dreams of crying minors and blood on his hands meant.

Remember the good things. Let go of the past. It all sounded so easy in theory. On mornings like this, when there was only salty breeze in his heavily working lungs, the tension from yesterday falling out of his muscles with every step, he could sometimes believe it.

When he came back, he was not too surprised to find a certain box behind the box inhabited this time. The - their? No way, just a temporary arrangement - kitten sat on his blanket like a throne and was busy with the milk, a few white drops glistening in its whiskers. It hardly looked up when he reached down to pat its head, safe for that highly satisfied purred he kind of knew already.

"Don't get used to it", he grumbled, but it kind of sounded not half as aggressive as it should.

When had he become so soft again? Another thing he didn't need to look too hard into at this time of the day. Pulling out of that comfortable empty adrenaline zone reminded him, he had other priorities at the moment. His phone hadn't rang - not that he had expected it - but that didn't necessarily mean, everything was okay.

He tried to be quiet when he entered the door, but Natasha really had gotten up in the meantime which was good. She looked a little better, too, though he knew her well enough to tell that she had had a little make up help. She still was beautiful as ever, though, her skin all but radiating in the bright morning light and her hair falling in soft waves down her shoulder. His eyes lingered longer on her dress than absolutely necessary. It seemed to be an especially tight one... Or running in the morning just was really bad for his hormones.

"I kind of feel underdressed for breakfast."

Natasha stood in the kitchen, sipping the remainder of her water, when Clint returned. She let her eyes rake over him as his did the same to her before smiling and tossing him a fresh bottle.

“Then you better get changed,” she said, though the idea of breakfast made her stomach flip over in a very unpleasant way. “How early does the market open?”

She had a beach bag ready to go with water, sunscreen and towels. She hoped to pick up a book or two at the market to add to it, but if they were too early then maybe a quick dip in the ocean before shopping could be just what the doctor ordered.

"Should be another hour at least, probably more. People around here are seldom in a hurry."

Clint shortly glanced over at the clock while he half emptied that bottle, very pleased that at least he wasn't breathing hard anymore, hadn't really the whole time. His condition wasn't off yet, he just had to keep it that way. But for today it was enough, and the only place he wanted to run to right now was the shower.

Rid off dust and sweat and with some at least more street qualified clothes on, he finally felt really awake when he returned. With his body, his stomach was wide awake too, unfortunately. And there wasn't that much of substance left in the fridge. Finally he just snatched himself a few slices of ham to get his system going and withstood temptation to ask Natasha if she had eaten anything, though it didn't really look like she had. She had been in a bad state yesterday and maybe just needed a little time to recover.

"So, stick to the plan? You feel up for a market run?"

Nibbling on his snack, he leaned back against the counter, watching her from the corner of his eyes.

While Clint showered and changed, Natasha slipped outside to check on their little furry friend and was pleasantly surprised to find that Clint had already done so and had left more milk for her. “He pretends to be tough, but he’s really a softy,” she said to the little kitten, scratching it between the ears before heading back inside to wait.

She didn’t need to wait long, their whole military-esque lives had taught them to take quick showers, and when he emerged he looked ready for a day out, and positively delectable.

“Of course,” she replied, bypassing the hidden question of how she was feeling. She knew he wanted to ask if she wanted breakfast as well but was holding back, a fact she was thankful for. “But if they’re not set up yet we could always take a swim first.”

Turning around, she lifted her hair to reveal her neck where the midnight blue ties of her bikini top made a perfect bow. “Be prepared for anything, right?”

"Never hurts", Clint agreed, grinning. That invitation, intended or not, was just too tempting to not lean over and leave a quick kiss on her nick, right below that thin bow.

"Think I might be watching you from the beach, though. You know me, I'm a wuss."

At that time of the day, the water wouldn't even be lukewarm, and Clint still wasn't overly fond of coldness. And if urge should suddenly come over him anyway, to finally dive through salt water again, his underwear could always substitute perfectly for swimwear, on the risk of having to go commando under his pants later. It wouldn't be the first time, and he had a certain feeling, Natasha wouldn't really mind.

He gave her time to get ready while he started the car but waited outside when she joined him, key in his hand, leaning on the door.

"You want to drive?"

He didn't mind either way, and he knew from experience that he felt better orientated in a new area once he had driven his way around a few times. And Natasha needed to feel less coddled if he didn't want to risk her kicking him in the balls sooner or later.

“Suit yourself,” Natasha replied, letting her hair drop back down, “But I intend to buy a book at the market if I can find one and relaxing in the sand, so later I may have to watch you... after you make sure I’m completely covered in sunscreen, of course.”

Throwing a few last minute items into the bag, and grabbing a few empties for the market, Natasha joined Clint outside, a delighted smile lighting up her face when he offered her the keys. She was perfectly content to sit back and let him drive, but it was easier to remember the territory and how to get around if she did it herself, something he clearly understood about her.

“I’ll try not to be too reckless,” she said, placing her items in the boot and taking the keys from Clint before climbing in behind the wheel.

"That's very reassuring. Cliff diving is so much more fun without a car", Clint answered, amused, his eyes wandering to the sharp, mostly unsecured downward slope on one side of the road.

With Natasha driving, he didn't have to worry about anything, of course, so he used the few minutes until they reached the parking spots from yesterday, to enjoy the view, give Natasha a short nudge in the right direction if necessary and even doze a little.

Today they really had that small beach from yesterday all to themselves, only a few joggers in the distance making their way along the pavement with sleepy looking faces. The sea was a beautiful shade of deep dark blue, not unlike Natasha's bathing gear, and the sun was slowly gaining strength. Clint let himself fall on the fine bright pebbles with a content sigh and blinked up at Natasha lazily. He still had no intentions of shrinking certain body parts at this early time of the day, but it certainly wouldn't hurt watching her doing her own little workout...

"No need for sunscreen yet, I guess? I promise, I won't miss a single spot", he chuckled with a definitely filthy little grin.

It was nice to see Clint just sit back and enjoy the ride, looking completely relaxed and happy, especially after yesterday, and Natasha made it her personal goal to keep that air around them for the full day.

When they reached the beach, she was pleased to find it nearly empty, the early hour and chill water likely keeping most people at bay. “There’s an extra towel in there if you want something softer to sit on,” she said as she set the canvas bag down beside him.

Grinning at the look he gave her, she pulled her dress up over her head and set it on top of the bag. “Oh, I’m sure you will be very thorough,” she replied, pulling the band from around her wrist and tying her hair up in a messy bun. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” Poking his leg with her toe, she gave him the slightest pout just for effect. He would swim later, she knew, once the water had warmed up. In the meantime she could enjoy a quick, quiet dip on her own, and a warm, dry set of arms waiting to wrap her in a towel when she was finished.

"Believe me, you don't want to hear me whine the whole morning because i froze off some vital body parts."

Clint just winked at her and got the mentioned towel from her bag to lie back comfortably, with his arms crossed under his head. That was a kind of morning he could get used to. Waves rolling in steadily, seagulls just waking up, the slowly warming air and clear sky above soon numbing his senses again... He found himself dozing for another few minutes before hew knew, but it was a half hearted rest.

Something followed him into that shallow floating of his mind, kept his thoughts too much awake to really catch up with a few more moments of sleep, like the small shimmers of sunbeam dancing over his pupils even through closed lids.

He could tell himself a thousand times not to worry about Natasha, he probably still would in his grave. She acted as if she was feeling alright and she didn't really look sick, but... He couldn't put the finger on it. It didn't feel like a little jet lag that should have worn off by now, or emotional stress that made her stomach revolt. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea after all, making her come into a southern country of all places. He had known, this time wouldn't be easy for both of them, and if the weather then burdened her in addition to that...

Sighing, he opened his eyes and glanced to the water, easily spotting Natasha's silhouette. At least she seemed to genuinely enjoy herself. Really, he had to stop overthinking everything. In that bikini she just looked on that side of too hot for his hormones, in fact, with that innocent braid so totally not matching that too tight top...

Clint squinted and frowned when his tired brain finally caught up with his instincts and made him realize what was unusual this morning. The last few days already, probably but then Natasha had either been too clothed to realize or he had been to horny to.

If you worked with somebody that closely for so many years and in countless intimate situations, you got to know your partner's body, every inch of it, every measure. He realized immediately when Natasha had to lose a few pounds for a role or if she came back from an especially tough mission with much too little flesh covering her bones.

He also knew how much she disliked it when she was too injured for proper training and showed off a little more of these luscious curves of hers that he personally liked so much. Apparently this was one of these seldom phases because he could swear, her breasts were actually bigger than usual.

Yeah, he definitely worried too much. A few pounds more certainly wasn't something he wouldn't be complaining about.

He lazily rested on his elbows when Natasha came back, trying to not let wander his eyes too obviously over her body to check on his conclusion, with poor success.

Damn, that bikini definitely was a little too tight...

“True, and it would be a real sin to damage such a beautiful work of art,” Natasha responded before giving her head a little shake and heading for the shore.

The water was cold, and while most people would have found it unpleasantly so, she found it rather refreshing, invigorating even. She still didn’t feel quite like herself, but it helped somewhat just moving slowly and easily through the calm water.

She didn’t linger too long, and tried to keep her head above the whole time to prevent her hair from getting wet. She got more used to the cold the longer she stayed in, but when she finally stepped out her body was slightly numbed. The warm sun on her back was a nice contrast as she made her way back up the beach to where Clint was waiting. And watching.

And staring a little too hard while trying not to.

“I take it you like the suit?” she said, taking the other towel and drying off her arms, though pausing to adjust the top of the suit a little. “It fit a little better when I bought it...” she admitted quietly, talking just as much to herself as to him.

"Will you hit me when I say, I like it?"

Clint blinked up at her with an apologetic smile and stretched one hand up to pull her down onto him. That way he ended up with a few definitely too cold drops of water after all, but it also had the undeniable advantage of Natasha sitting comfortably on his thighs while he carefully helped her dry her body with another of her towels. He even managed to keep his hands to himself in certain regions like a good boy. Now he just had to get that thing with not-staring together.

"Told you, it's the food around here."

He placed his hand softly on her thighs, harmless caresses to net even let his mind wander to activities that certainly wouldn't fit a public area like this.

"Relax for a few days, get your body back into balance, that's most important right now."

“Why would I hit you for a compliment?” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “I could have picked a much more modest suit, after all...” Meaning she had chosen this one partially with him in mind, though not as much at the forefront as he had been when she had picked the few negligees she had hidden in one of the bureau drawers back at the house.

At his prompting Natasha lowered herself down to sit on his lap, surrendering the towel to him to finish drying her off. He was surprisingly efficient about it, not letting his hands wander despite the enticing expanse of skin laid out before him.

“I might have to go for a run with you tomorrow,” she said, looking down at herself with a bit of a frown. Part of it was bloating, at least at her stomach, but that didn’t explain the larger chest. Too much takeout and not enough real exercise. Lifting her head again she gave Clint an impish grin. “Vigorous sex apparently doesn’t burn quite enough calories.”

In her job she certainly couldn’t afford to let herself go, not that she would anyhow. She enjoyed being healthy and active, though it was nice to take a break from that every so often. Apparently a little too often lately.

"I'll try not wearing you out too much today then", Clint answered, perfectly innocent, at least as innocent as a guy could be when a scorching hot woman was seated on top of him and talked about sex.

Focus, Barton. He shielded his eyes from the delicious view with one arm, the other still playfully caressing Natasha's legs. It didn't help much. Too much soft, warm skin too close to his body, too much temptation to not peek through his eyelids at certain favorite body parts of hers. Back to high school times, apparently. If he had ever been to one, that was.

"I might have to think about a short swim after all, though. You look really gorgeous, you know."

“Mm, sure you will,” Natasha replied, clearly not buying one word of his innocent act.

When he covered his eyes she had to chuckle a little, especially since his other hand stayed busy caressing her skin. The suit really seemed to be doing a number on him, a fact that she found rather amusing. It didn’t matter how often he saw her naked he still couldn’t seem to get enough. How he had the ability to look at her as if it was the first time, to look at her as if she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, even after all these years Natasha couldn’t quite grasp.

“Too bad this beach isn’t a little more secluded...” She couldn’t resist stealing a kiss, drawing his bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled back before abruptly getting to her feet and tossing the damp towel over his head. He was just far too fun to tease. “But I suppose we’ll have to take a raincheck.”

Pulling the elastic out of her hair and sliding it over her wrist again, she let her red hair tumble back down around her shoulders in red waves that shimmered in the sun.

A protesting whine came past Clint's lips when that kiss ended much too quickly, but he didn't try hold her back when she got up. Really, if she had nuzzled her half naked body against his much longer, he probably couldn't have left that freezing water over there for an hour or so.

"Tease."

Chuckling, he plucked that towel off his face and neatly folded while doing his best to not watch Natasha too closely. Especially not the way the sun was making her hair glow again or the sinful side view of her curvy silhouette in the same perfect light. Since he obviously couldn't bury his face against her breasts right now and lick and suck her skin until she came from just that, he better sent his imagination in a less inspiring direction. Like stepping on a sea urchin. Post mission paperwork. Sleeping in the mud...

Natasha surely wasn't planning on changing into normal underwear right here, would she?

"Oh, fuck it."

Grumbling, he pushed himself up and quickly got out of his pants and shirt, making a beeline for the water before he could think better. The first wave of only slowing warming water hit him like standing naked right before a fridge and successfully killed every filthy thought, just as hoped. He went in deep enough to take a few light quick strokes, enough to get awake in every sense of the word, and hurried back to the shore then with gritted teeth. Well... better. Somehow.

"Only masochists find anything enjoyable about this", he muttered, shivering and shaking off as much water as possible while he reached for the remaining towel.

“You call me that so much, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s true,” Natasha replied, giving him a cheeky grin.

Reclaiming her dress from the bag, she shook it out, paying Clint no mind until he suddenly stripped off his own clothes and made a run for the water. She could only watch after him, amused, as he took the outdoor equivalent of a ‘cold shower’, his mind and body apparently needing help to cool down.

By the time he returned Natasha had already redressed, pulling her dress back on over her bikini. It would be warm enough she would dry thoroughly at the market, and it would save her from changing again later when they returned to the beach.

“You didn’t find it rejuvenating?” she questioned innocently, draping her wet towel through the handles of the bag.

"I better not see you smiling over there. This is your fault, red."

Clint pointed a finger at her, pretending to pout, and wrapped the towel around his waist then, still shivering.

Natasha obviously had no plans on changing clothes anytime soon, but he obviously wasn't that lucky. Well, revenge could be so sweet...

He made sure to take his time wriggling out of his improvised bathing trunks under that towel. And winding his pants back on with the same efforts, without giving any of the passing joggers or people walking their dogs a free show. If that towel maybe slipped one or few times, just for Natasha to see, it was clearly by accident.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Natasha replied, giving him a completely blank look. She thought of taking her towel and helping him dry off, but he had already moved on to trying to get her back with his little show involving his own towel. It had become a game between them, this teasing each other in public to either get the other all hot and bothered, or to see who broke first.

As far as Natasha was concerned she always won; Clint’s libido was much more active and easily switched on than her own.

Crossing her arms, she watched him with raised eyebrows, unabashedly taking in every inch of skin he took upon himself to flash her. It wasn’t that she was entirely unaffected, but the whole thing was more amusing than anything. “Are you done?” she asked when he finally seemed to be finished with changing his clothes. The fact that he was going commando now could prove to be fun later. “It takes you longer to get ready than I do. The market must be open by now.”

"We'll be there in time for some power shopping, don't worry."

They were poking each other again, to the point where friendly tackling and jabs in the ribs wouldn't be far. Clint decided that this morning was much too nice for that. After putting on his shirt - without a show this time - he just walked over to Natasha, swept her in his arms and kissed her, her cheek first, the sharp line of her chin and finally her lips.

"You know me, red. Sometimes I have to be thirteen years old."

With his arm loosely around her waist, he lead her back to the car, again taking the passenger seat without even asking this time. The way wasn't really hard to find, they had been there yesterday, after all. By now the market place was indeed a lot busier, fairly divided between stands with groceries, clothes, electronic media stuff and all kind of nonsense they might or not need for their little household.

"So, are we looking for something special except for food and stuff? Like a litter box?"

The bad thing was, he probably wasn't entirely joking.

Natasha melted into his arms, wanting nothing more at that moment that to just be close to him. She wasn’t sure where the sudden neediness had sprung from, but it was only with reluctance and great willpower that she detached herself from him to get in the car.

“Don’t ever change,” she said. “That immaturity is a good part of your charm.” She said it teasingly, but there was definite truth to it. The fact that Clint had been able to retain his boyish glee after all these years was part of what she loved so much about him. She’d never had a childhood, never had an opportunity to be childish, but with Clint she could, and it felt good to be able to be that free with another person.

She located the market easily and found someplace a little bit of a walk away to park so they wouldn’t have to navigate through the people when they were ready to leave. Taking Clint’s hand as they moved through the crowds, Natasha took in the wares of each stall they passed, making a mental list of items to take a closer look at. When he spoke, though, her list was forgotten.

Turning to look at Clint, she tried to read him, but she wasn’t sure she was reading him right. Usually she could tell when he was joking, but this time she wasn’t sure. “I don’t know... are we?” she asked. Did he really want to adopt the cat, or was he suggesting it just because he thought she wanted to? And if that was the case... did she want to? She thought of that little ball of fur from her early days in the red room, and her dream from last night came rushing back. “I don’t know...” she said again, lowering her eyes, her brow furrowed. It wouldn’t be like that but... she had never had anything depend on her before for its well being. What if she failed?

And there went the light carelessness of the morning. Great job, Barton. Again. As if he didn't know better.

Commitment. Not a favorite subject for anyone working a job like Natasha and him.

For Natasha it was even a thousand times harder. Clint kind of should be aware of that after 10 years of waiting for her.

Maybe the last days had gotten to his head a little, clouded his sight with the happiness Natasha so often was radiating lately. She had looked happy too when that animal had been around, and he loved it when she was happy. He wanted her to be happy. Maybe he sometimes got a little over enthusiastic with that.

That little furball was cute, sure, and he didn't mind putting some food out in the morning. If they could somehow get it sanitized, maybe he wouldn't mind it sitting on Natasha's arm in the evening, while they were watching a movie or something.

Unfortunately they couldn't stay here forever. And unless Natasha had some really helpful and understanding neighbors, keeping an animal with a job like theirs wasn't exactly easy.

Then again, maybe he was thinking much too far. Right now he cared mostly about Natasha's smile. And maybe a little about that rather helpless seeming stray. He always had had a weak spot for these.

"I don't think we'd get her to use a litter box anyway. Or sleep in the house, for that matter."

He pulled Natasha a little closer, so they wouldn't be in anyone's way, and softly lifted her chin to let her know, he understood, he knew. And still wouldn't push her in any direction she wasn't comfortable with. Going by what he knew would be good for her, would make her feel good, just like it had always been... That would apply in this case just as well.

"But she's really pretty small for how old she must be. Summer litters should be able to take care of themselves by autumn. Can't hurt to coddle her up a little, right? Then she'll be ready for the winter. Wherever she'll end up then."

Clint was already backpedalling, and Natasha felt a pang of regret when she realised that he hadn’t made the suggestion just to make her happy, though that had been a very big factor. There was a part of him that wanted to help the poor little creature, a stray much like he had been once. He put on a tough face, but he really had the softest heart.

Meeting his eyes again at his urgings, she saw the understanding there, and the promise that he would never make her do anything she didn’t want to. She thought that was it, that he would drop it unless she instigated the topic of conversation again, but he didn’t, and she found herself strangely grateful for the fact. If it was left up to her to broach the subject it would never happen, but of course he knew that. He may not push her, but he was making sure she really thought about it before saying no.

The thought of leaving the kitten behind when they left struck her with such sadness, and maybe that was what this was all really about. She couldn’t really keep the cat, couldn’t take it with them, so wouldn’t it be a bad idea to let herself get attached to it only to have to leave it behind? And wouldn’t that be crueler in the long run for the little thing?

Wasn’t it easier to stop now than to break all their hearts later? But of course it was that line of thinking that had made her keep Clint at arm’s length for so long.

Wrapping her arms around Clint’s waist, she buried her face against his chest and closed her eyes. She didn’t understand why this whole thing was making her so damn emotional, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with it. She didn’t want to abandon the little kitten, especially not after realising that it was small and underweight, but she was afraid. She was afraid of what would happen if she let it in.

Clint was confused, to say the least. In spite of her sudden hesitation on the subject, now that things got serious... He hadn't expected Natasha to become so emotional about it. And certainly not in the middle of a crowd.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something still not completely right with her. Maybe she was feeling worse than she told him because she didn't want to spoil their holiday, and her weakened state lowered her mental defenses too... Something knotted hard in his stomach. It shouldn't be like that, Natasha should be able to tell him such things. He had made the last days clearly too much about himself if she started to ignore her own needs so much. He didn't want to ask again, but he would have to watch her a little closer.

For now he just held her close, ran his fingers soothingly through her hair and over her neck and ignored the curious glances around. He murmured a few calming phrases in Russian into her ear so no one could listen, telling her, it was okay, that he was there for her and cared for her, just like in the morning after her nightmare. Whatever was shaking her so badly right now, that was most important for her to know... That he was there, no matter what she wanted.

The subject was clearly distressing her, so there was no use in pressing it. He'd just make sure to buy a little extra meat on that stand over there and have enough milk in the house, and the rest... they could always talk about, if Natasha felt like it.

"What do you say, let's just get our stuff for now? And then the beach is waiting."

Natasha couldn’t pinpoint it either. Usually she was so good at hiding her emotions, and could wear any mask she pleased when out in public, but today she couldn’t seem to hold them in. Here she was, standing in the middle of a crowded marketplace, hiding her face against Clint’s chest and clinging to him like a lifeline.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to convince herself that everything was fine and that it was just jetlag, a different climate, and the release of all the stress that had been building for months.

Through it all, though, she was grateful for Clint’s constant presence. He didn’t try to get her to voice what was wrong; he just spoke soothingly to her in a language nobody else around them would understand, his hands caressing her gently until she could breathe again. He was her constant, always there when she needed him. She had let him in, given him a chance, and it was the best thing she had ever done.

Maybe it was time to try again.

“Okay,” she agreed, finally stepping back though keeping one arm around his waist. They could get the groceries they needed, and maybe a little extra for their tiny lodger.

It wasn't easy, keeping the frown off his face. Clint definitely didn't mind exchanging a little more closeness than before with Natasha in public, at least in areas like this where they could do it unbothered. But the way she stayed close to him right now wasn't playful. It was vulnerable. Vulnerable wasn't something Natasha usually radiated.

If she was still feeling off tomorrow... Then they would have to talk, as little as he liked it, as much as he hated bringing up conflict between them. This journey was about Natasha just as much as about him, and he didn't want to know her in constant distress.

For now he just kept her close, with his arm casually around her shoulder, while they walked their way along the stands to check on their needs. After restocking his spice and vegetables supply, Clint ordered one of the dealers to pack a generous selection of all kind of pasta stuff. He was planning on cooking at least a few times for Natasha while they were here. About high time he got some practice back with that.

While the guy was busy with that, he lead Natasha to a stand with dozens of different tea flavors, all kind of colorful and intensively smelling in raw powders from heavy clay bowls. Personally, he was more the coffee type and quickly had found his usual favorite brand for their purchase, but Natasha was the tea lover between the two of them. Maybe looking around here would distract her a little.

"Want you knock yourself out here while I get the stuff into the car?"

He nodded in the vague direction of the parking lot, which conveniently also included passing the stands with beverages. And all the meat stuff. He needed his fix of ham for breakfast anyway. No harm in asking a little what the hell you had to feed kittens who weren't grown enough for hunting mice and birds yet.

"You know me, I can use the workout and all. Can't afford to go soft in these arms."

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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