study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

"Sounds very good."

After that long afternoon in the sun and especially that little anger fit from just now - that already began to feel like a strange distant dream in his head - Clint felt sweaty and uncomfortable. Relaxing a bit in warm water, holding Natasha whenever she needed it, waiting for enough tiredness to sleep to kick... Better than anything else they could have come up with, really.

He didn't comment on the eating part because he was pretty sure, he wouldn't get down more than one or two bites again, but he didn't want to upset her. So he just smiled shortly and lead the way upstairs, leaving his gear where it was. He could take care of that tomorrow or something. Fidgeting around with his weapons had never seemed so unimportant to him. Especially when it looked like he couldn't handle them anymore anyway.

He pushed that new uneasy worry away like he had done it with most of his feelings through the day, shook it off like a nasty insect. No time to worry about his own trifles right now.

He left it to Natasha to prepare the bath because he wasn't sure how her stomach was doing and what kind of smells she could handle. Sitting on the tub edge with his hands folded in his lap, he watched her as he could feel at least one of the desired goals of the evening already kicking in... He suddenly felt incredibly tired.

She knew he was still reluctant to eat anything, and honestly she felt the same, but she knew they had to. She would likely wake up sick in the morning again, and with little to bring up it would be even more unpleasant. As for Clint, he wasn’t doing himself any favours either, and the last thing either of them needed was him getting lightheaded while driving into town. For now she let it go, though, deciding to press the issue later, after a relaxing bath. Maybe it would help.

Once they were in the spotless bathroom Natasha drew a warm bath, opting out of any scented products. She’d had enough with the cleaning supplies, so a mild soap was all she planned on using this time. Gathering towels and cloths to set within reach, she stripped off the sweaty clothes and tossed them toward the washer. Somehow they had fallen into the routine of Clint being the one to take care of washing the laundry so she thought little of it as she stepped into the tub. Settling back against the side, she held her hand out to Clint to join her. She knew he wasn’t in the mood to really let his hands wander right now, but she really didn’t want him touching her stomach right now either; she just wanted to wrap her arms around him and settle her face against his shoulder so hopefully he would accept the reversed positions this time.

Clint had not expected Natasha to want too much touch at all, so he was pleasantly surprised when she invited him to her instead of retreating to the other side of the tub. With the exhaustion growing, he had just come as far as peeling his shirt off so far, but now he hurried a little more, adding the rest of his clothes to the pile she had built already.

The water had the perfect temperature and he found himself sighing a bit, a hint of relaxation emerging when he sat down between Natasha's legs and leaned back against her carefully. She seemed far better than in the morning and he could just hope, she would tell him if he got too heavy or something. He nuzzled his cheek against her shoulder when he sank deeper under the surface and rested his hand on her knee soothingly.

"You know, sooner or later we'll grow fins if we keep on being in the water so much", he murmured, just a shadow of his usual humor, but you got points for trying, right?

She didn’t want to be touched, not really, but she wanted the comfort of his body against hers where she could be in complete control of the situation. Thankfully Clint didn’t argue or question it, and actually seemed eager to agree.

When he leaned back against her she wrapped her arms loosely around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her breasts were still tender but his weight against them wasn’t enough to really bother her at the moment so she closed her eyes and settled in, breathing a sigh of her own.

“Might not be so bad if we get gills to go with them,” she answered, her lips curling just slightly in the ghost of a smile against his skin. It was funny, though. Between the showers, baths and the beach they had spent more time in the water in the past week than probably the previous couple of months combined.

"Hm-Hm. You'd make a ravishing mermaid."

It felt strange to hear himself chuckle after a day of crisis. But what good would it do to stick to gloom and glare all the time? They knew that they were facing something really bad and it would take them time to recover from this. It certainly wouldn't help if they forbade themselves every little smile.

Or every closeness. Her lips touching him reminded him how much he loved it to be near her, even if it was just the smallest gesture of affection. They belonged together, they cared for each other... That wouldn't just go away, no matter what happened. He let just his thumb circle softly over her thigh and closed his eyes to let that growing exhaustion settle in his body. He actually felt like he could sleep at least for a few hours right now.

It felt good to hear him chuckle, to feel that slight vibration in his chest. There wouldn’t be much cause for mirth for the next who knew how long, so she would take what she could get. “As long as I don’t have to wear seashells. They don’t look overly comfortable.”

Slowly she could feel the tension in her muscle fading and exhaustion taking over. 9am still sounded so far away, but if she could sleep for at least a couple hours of the remaining time that would be a blessing.

“We probably shouldn’t stay in long,” she said, nuzzling against his neck. At this rate they might just both fall asleep in here, which would make for a rude awakening when the water cooled off.

"Right."

Clint sighed just at the prospect of moving and leaned his head back for her to get closer against him. Of course she was right, cold water would quite efficiently eliminate any kind of relaxation they had just found.

It had gotten late, but he had a feeling, sleep still wasn't close enough to try and close his eyes in spite of all exhaustion. But maybe he could Natasha help with hers.

"Want me to give you a back massage, red? Helps you falling asleep maybe."

When he leaned back against her she closed her eyes and held him a little tighter. She didn’t want to move either, didn’t want to lose the first moment of peace they’d had all day, but it was inevitable.

“What about you?” she asked, placing a brief kiss against his shoulder. “You need some sleep too so you don’t drive us into a ditch tomorrow.”

"I'll try once you're out, I promise."

Clint answered her gesture with turning his head to her, to softly graze her temple with his lips. Tenderness, care, closeness. That was all they had right now. And him at least taking care of himself enough to not worry her. Technically he had driven cars on a gallon of blood loss or high like a fucking satellite, after some asshole had injected drugs into his system, so a little tiredness wouldn't kill them. But Natasha didn't need one more weigh on her mind.

"I'll down a pill or two if necessary. We both need to be fit tomorrow."

With a still very unwilling sigh he wriggled out of her arms - trying to avoid a discussion made it easier - and got out of the tub to take one of the prepared towels. He held it out for Natasha in his hands, inviting her to step in so he could dry her.

"Want to have that snack before? There's ice cream in the freezer or the rest of that salad. Or I can cook you something."

Try and succeed were two different things, but she had to trust that Clint would take care of himself, for her if for no other reason. Tomorrow was important, and they both had to be in the best shape that they could be, considering the circumstances. “Okay,” she agreed.

Very reluctantly she let him out of her arms. She knew he was trying to keep her from pressing the matter, but she let him go anyhow. Pulling the plug on the bath she got to her feet and stepped out and into the towel Clint held ready for her. “I think I’ll just stick with toast or crackers for now,” she said. Maybe tomorrow she could eat a more balanced meal, but for now sticking with what was bland and comforting sounded like a better idea.

"Crackers in bed. We're turning into one of these couples", Clint chuckled.

He dried her body gently, carefully but without drawing anything out, just making sure she wouldn't be freezing, and fastened the towel around her chest then, placing a quick kiss on her shoulder. He felt fresher now, the dust off the day washed off, and a lazy tiredness had settled in his bones that he welcomed with open arms. He brushed his own towel half-heartedly over his chest and fastened it around his hips, already half out of the door to get busy in the kitchen.

It was thanks to his guilty pleasure he had actually two different kind of crackers in the house. Also, it was really not his fault that the wholemeal version came only in animal shape. At least he could prepare a nice plate with a little selection that way. With the plate in one hand and a bottle of water in the other he entered the bed room, half expecting and half worried that Natasha would already be asleep. It would be better if she had something more to eat before.

Natasha let him go off to the kitchen alone. She knew he needed to feel useful right now, and if waiting on her, taking care of her, gave him that then she wouldn’t try to take it away.

By the time he joined her in the bedroom she had traded her towel for a pair of panties and one of his t-shirts and was sitting cross-legged on her side of the bed, the sheet pulled up over her legs. “You could have just brought the box,” she said, smiling softly at him.

"Hey, don't disillusion me. I like to think of myself as a great cook."

Clint made a show of bowing in front of her like a waiter in a high class restaurant and sat the plate down on the bed in front of her.

"I remember that shirt", he remarked, sitting with her with a small, thoughtful smile. "Got that when we were in Croatia. Most boring drug dealer in the world. You were clawing at the walls after two days."

“Oh, well, in that case you did a wonderful job of preparing these crackers,” she replied, smiling a little wider at the act. Of course leave it to Clint to put the utmost care into something as simple as this. Two kinds of crackers, of course. Picking one up and nibbling at it, she looked down at the shirt she wore.

“That one?” she stated, shaking her head. “Sometimes it’s nice to have a quiet mission, but that one was definitely too quiet.”

Holding the other half of the cracker out to Clint, she gave him a look that pleaded ‘please? for me?’.

That look on her face just couldn't be resisted. Grinning, he lowered his head and snatched the cracker from her fingers, not pulling a muscle though food still tasted like nothing with a hint of nausea right now.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind quiet missions if we were sent to places like here", he added, grinning.

It was nice, pretending for a few minutes that everything was fine, that this place was still perfect for them and that they would just go back to their old lives once they would fly home. Like nothing had happened at all. Reality would kick in soon enough tomorrow. At least for a little while he didn't want to think about it.

"Rich and lazy by day, a little hunting by night..."

He laid back on the mattress with his arms crossed under his head, casually getting out of reach of that plate.

"Got a feeling, accounting department wouldn't be happy with us, though."

Natasha had made her living out of pretending, and it was even easier to pretend when it was something she wanted so badly. She wanted that normalcy back, that carefree feeling they’d had yesterday. Maybe it would only last a moment, but it was a moment she would gladly take.

“One accounting report that bad and they’d banish us to Siberia,” she said, crunching on another cracker. She knew what he was doing, laying back and away from her, but she played dumb. As much as his hypocrisy was annoying she didn’t want to fight right now. If he wanted to starve himself she didn’t have it in her to argue.

"Damn. Looks like we have to go into private business and finance ourselves after all."

It was out of pure habit that Clint reached out out to touch Natasha's back and when he caught himself hesitating, he mentally cursed himself. This thing could only come between them if they let it. She would tell him if she needed distance. So he rubbed gently along her spine while she ate, straightened her hopelessly tangled curls a bit and tried to let the quiet sounds of a city going to sleep - or at least into party-mode - in the distance soothe his own restlessness.

A cat mewled somewhere near the house and his thoughts wandered to Liho immediately. He really hoped she would be back tomorrow. As stupid as it was, little one had become something like... like a symbol for the good hours of happiness they had had here. He didn't believe in such crap, but maybe it was a good omen anyway if the kitten would be back and in one piece every morning...

He sighed a little at his own sentimental thoughts and covered his face with his free arm.

"I feel old. I know I'm often joking about this, but today I feel really old. You know, like... worn out."

It was a joke, of course, but it wasn’t an entirely bad idea, really. Their own business, maybe as bounty hunters? No, it was silly. No point to even think about it.

Letting out a soft sigh at his touch, she managed to eat a few more crackers before setting the plate aside and settling on the water instead. For a moment they sat in contemplative silence, listening to the quiet sounds outside; the cats and the people and the waves crashing on shore.

Looking over at him when he spoke again, Natasha’s brow furrowed. Capping the water bottle she set it on the bedside table before shifting around to lay on her side, facing him. She understood what he was saying, and while she didn’t have the years on her that he did, she had a lot of experiences that made up for them. Maybe this, all of it, was a wakeup call that they shouldn’t ignore. They couldn’t remain at the top of their game forever, and maybe it was time to start thinking of a plan B. Even the best field agents had a shelf life, and eventually they ended up relegated to desk work, or one day they simply didn’t make it back from a mission. Neither option was too appealing, to be honest.

“Maybe it’s time for a real change,” she said, tucking one hand under her pillow while reaching out to gently trace along his jaw with the other.

Clint let out a quiet sigh and pressed into her touch immediately, enjoying every second of it. This... this already helped. Her gentleness and care. Her trying to be there for him when really it should be the other way round. Maybe both had to work. As much as he wanted it, he couldn't always be strong for her.

They were so devoted to each other... It actually wasn't hard imagining them being on their own, two badass fighters out there doing their thing, with their own network and all... No orders, no one to tell them what to do... It was a nice fantasy.

"We need a fancy name", he murmured between soft kisses on her palm. "Bonnie and Clyde is already taken, though."

Then he got more serious, though, because she also was, and he wanted her to know, he took such worries serious.

"In any case I think that holiday might be longer than expected. Gives us much time to think where go to next. We can talk to Nick when you feel ready for it, tell him that we want more autonomy and all. Work less, organize ourselves and our mission on our own. If he doesn't like that... There's enough crime out there for everyone to fight."

It wasn’t about him being there for her, or her being there for him. They were there for each other, supporting each other; that was the way it worked, they way it would always work. They didn’t have to be strong for each other, but they had to be there.

He seemed receptive to her touch so Natasha shifted closer and rested her head on his shoulder while continuing to brush her fingers lightly over his face. She didn’t comment on his joke, knowing he would get more serious in a moment. Her statement had been an honest one and she knew he would reply in kind soon enough.

He made it sound so simple, but could walking away from such a secretive organization be that easy? Maybe it could. Of course it didn’t help that director had a soft spot for them. She looked up to Nick and had grown to care about him over the years, and she hoped if push came to shove he’d say the same. He was a leader, though, and had to do what was right for the organization. It would be an interesting discussion for sure.

“Okay,” she agreed simply, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to let out slowly.

Too heavy a discussion for tonight. They would talk about it, when they had that other load off their shoulders. A thought that still hurt but was buried deep enough at least for the moment to not make it through Natasha's soft touch. It was nice to know though, they were on the same page here, at least in what they wanted. How it would play out then... They would have to see once real life would be calling them back.

Right now Clint didn't want to think about that. He nuzzled his head against hers, lips seeking out the tender skin of her forehead and listened to her breathing for a while, one hand ever so carefully busy with her hair again. A lost cause.

"I'll wash it and comb it out for you tomorrow before we leave if you want", he murmured. If she would feel that bad again in the morning, she would be hardly in the mood to do that herself.

It was easy to pretend, but it wasn’t easy to look toward the future, now when the present was so messed up. They would be together, that much was certain, and the rest they could deal with when they got there.

Moving her hand to rest over his chest, she concentrated on the rhythm of his heartbeat, on his fingers uselessly trying to tame her tangled tresses. Whatever happened tomorrow, whatever their future held, as long as she had this to return to she thought she could face it head on.

She nodded lazily against his chest at the offer, and while the last thing she wanted to do right now was move, she knew there was one more thing that should be taken care of before they slept if she wanted to alleviate the inevitable rude awakening tomorrow even the slightest. “Can I bother you for one more thing?” she asked, though she knew she didn’t need to. He would do whatever she asked. “It involves moving.”

"Whatever you need."

Clint kissed her forehead again, softly, long, waiting for her words or that she would move so he could get up.

"Do you think you can sleep, red? Or should we try that massage?"

"Do you have a basin or an empty trash can?" She had no doubts she'd be sick again in the morning, and if she could be saved the made dash to the washroom that would be of some comfort.

"I think I'm okay. Another time." A massage sounded nice, but the idea of laying on her stomach right now didn't. She really just wanted to curl up in a ball and hope that tomorrow came sooner rather than later.

"You got it."

Clint wriggled his way out from under her carefully and made it to the bathroom, fortunately without letting the short dizziness from standing up show. In the morning he would have to throw in another oranges or two, whether he liked it or not, even if his stomach turned at the thought. This went on like that, he could soon join Natasha on her morning sickness trips, he thought with a slightly bitter frown. As soon as he was alone again, even if it was just to find that bucket Angelina used for water to wash the windows, things already began to weigh heavy on his mind. He hurried up a little more than necessary to get back to the bed.

That tightness in his throat got better as soon as he was back with Natasha, thankfully, setting that bucket down right next to her head end and than laying down on his back again. He patted his chest shortly, with hopefully the last exhausting feeling smile for the day. Though he doubted he would be sleeping really soon, at least he could help her find the needed calmness.

"My turn to be the pillow."

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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