study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

Natasha was pleased that he didn’t want to hide away for another day. It could be that he was putting on a strong face for her but she didn’t think so. It felt more as if he wanted to push through and get on with the day, build some more good memories, than to dwell on what was bothering him. She could certainly understand that.

The kiss was awkward but perfect in the moment and she was left grinning up at him when he straightened back up. Holding her hand up she didn’t clarify if it was for him to help her to her feet, or to hand over the keys to the car.

"Come on, red. Beach is waiting."

Clint pulled her to her feet gently and swapped her in his arms for another quick kiss. He couldn't get enough of how her sun-warmed skin felt against his, how her body was soft and melting into his, or how her cheeks were gaining that certain healthy color back. Definitely a lot better sensations than the crap going on in his subconsciousness.

He kissed her cheek and then her mouth again and then tore himself reluctantly to lead the way to the car. It was pretty much like a ride through the dune, opening the door, and he was very quick to put the key in and turn the ac on before closing that door again.

"Well, maybe two minutes."

He walked back around the car since the idea was that Natasha was driving anyway and got his arms around her again, grinning.

"We should make the best of that time."

Before they could get too carried away on the front stoop Clint pulled away and headed for the car. Natasha grabbed the bag and followed, hanging back when he opened the door to a blast of heat and managed to get the air conditioning running before he completely melted. Maybe they should have taken the scooter, but she didn’t want to take any chances, and besides, that’s what the ac was for anyhow.

Looping her arms comfortably around him when he pulled her into another embrace, she grinned at his words and bumped her nose against his. “Hmm... you mean like spending it making out like teenagers against the car?” she asked, backing him up a step or two until she had him against the door. “Unless you have other ideas?”

"There we go again. So predictable."

Clint let his hands wander from her waist lower shamelessly and slipped his fingers into the back pants of her shorts. He couldn't help but notice they fit a little tighter than he remembered it, and that thought brought all that warm, tingling, confused excitement back he felt about this situation. Soon she would be showing much more... He couldn't wait for it.

Also, it was a lot more exciting if things were so close, and he made sure to give her ass a good nice squeeze, letting her know how much he enjoyed her body, touching her. Her lips were too tentatively close to not steal another kiss, slow and lazy, between quiet, content sighs. Well, yeah, he could get used to that.

With only two minutes Clint didn’t waste any time finding some naked flesh to get his hands on, and it came as no surprise that her ass was his immediate target. “Predictable indeed,” she said, pressing her body against his.

She knew he loved her body now, but would that change as she did? Would he still find her attractive when her stomach protruded and her face filled out and she got puffy and ended up waddling more than walking? What about afterwards when she was still stretched and heavy? What if her body was never the same again, would he still love the ruin that was left?

She tried to ignore those thoughts, instead losing herself in his kiss. It was still too far away, still too uncertain, and it was stupid to worry about something she couldn’t change. She had always been one to live in the now, and this was not the time to change that. Pulling him closer she deepened the kiss while still keeping it nice and slow.

The invitation was too tempting to not suck her tongue in his mouth, stroking it playfully, while one hand traveled slowly from her butt lower, massaging the soft warm flesh of her thigh and pressing her lower body just a little tighter against his. They were probably being watched by one or two people in the houses nearby, but he couldn't really care. The memory of their quickie in the middle of the ocean surfaced promptly, and he had to direct his thoughts to cleaning up the bathroom or writing reports immediately, before this could get embarrassing.

"Jesus, Tash'."

He nuzzled his face against her neck with a sigh, just to get drunk on her beloved scent once more before he had to keep his hands off her for a few hours.

"Sometimes I think you don't know how crazy I am for you."

Natasha wasn’t really one to put on a show for anyone, but she had grown to care less over time if anyone saw them. She was done deliberately hiding, especially in a place like this where nobody knew them. Besides, it was silly to try to hide their relationship in any way. It wasn’t like everyone didn’t already talk, and by the time they returned home...

Settling into his embrace, content to just hold him for a moment, she smiled lazily. She couldn’t really argue. She knew he was crazy about her, but sometimes she forgot just how much of an affect she could have on him with just the littlest things.

“Sometimes it takes a little reminder,” she said, kissing his shoulder through his shirt before settling her head there.

Clint was kind of glad they stopped before temptation could grow too big to go back inside the house instead of to the beach. Maybe Natasha wouldn't have minded being taken to bed now and he seldom did. But the days of going to the beach would soon be rare. She needed some time by the water. Maybe he did too.

The interaction had revived his senses a little but he still gladly let Natasha take over the car. He could always drive home when a little swim would hopefully have given him the rest of his energy back. At least you could sit in the car without being baked now.

He made sure to buy enough water for them on the way from the parking lot to the beach anyway and chose a place close to a few sunshades, where they could get out of the worst heat anytime if necessary. Probably coddling again? At this point he wasn't sure anymore. He could just hope, she would tell him if it got too much.

It was reluctantly that Natasha finally stepped out of Clint’s embrace, though settling into the now cool car was nice. The drive to the beach was actually relaxing and helped to settle her into a rather content state. With her life and her body feeling so much out of control, it was nice to take complete control of something, to turn the wheel and have the car obey, to know that it all relied on her reflexes, directions and clear mind.

Once they reached their destination she let Clint pick them a spot to settle down. Spreading out their towels, Natasha stripped down to her bikini and sat down in the centre of her towel. Propping her sunglasses on the top of her head, she fished the sunscreen out of the bag and waggled it in front of him. “Sunscreen duty today or is it a little too tempting?” she asked.

It was an honest question, and also an unspoken implication. As much as she had enjoyed their activities in the water the other day she wasn’t up for a repeat venture, and she didn’t want to get Clint worked up when she wasn’t planning on finishing anything. She was perfectly capable of applying her own sunscreen if he preferred.

"You're making it a challenge, but I'll behave."

Chuckling, Clint took the bottle from her hands and coaxed Natasha to lean back so he could start treating her body with the sunscreen, with the same tenderness and accuracy as the other day. Only he kept his hands from wandering this time, concentrating fully and only on his job to reach every inch of Natasha's soft bare skin with his gently working fingertips. Of course she was a walking, breathing temptation when he allowed himself to revel in that, but he wasn't exactly 13 years old anymore. He had had his hormones under control in much more lascivious settings on former missions before.

With a small smile he realized that Natasha's skin started to show a faint bronze colored tone from their many hours in the sun, an unusual but pretty sight and definitely better than a painful sunburn. He allowed himself to press his lips to her shoulder and neck from time to time while he worked, especially after she had turned on her stomach to let him take care of her back. But still he didn't linger anywhere longer than necessary until he could be sure, he had finished his job well and settled next to Natasha with a content sigh to reach for one of their water bottles.

He was still restless, he felt it in the way his fingers worked the bottle cork and how he kept a closer eye on their surroundings, the strangers around them, than in the last days. That overload of unwanted burdens in his mind wasn't forgotten yet, and though his half-finished book was waiting in Natasha's bag, he knew that he couldn't find enough focus to remember even half a page right now.

"You good here?" he asked with a small sigh. "I think I need to swim for a while."

As Clint moved his hands gently and soothingly over her body Natasha thought she could melt right into the sand. He covered every inch of her, not missing a single spot, and his fleeting kisses made her smile. Her stomach was feeling much better now, and even the pressure on it when she laid on it wasn’t that uncomfortable. By the time Clint had finished she was already half asleep, her head resting on her folded arms and her now protected back exposed to the sun.

Her brow pinched just slightly in concern at Clint’s statement but she nodded. “Enjoy yourself,” she said, and it was more than a suggestion. If he needed time to think, time to himself to clear his head, then she would certainly give him that. “Do you need sunscreen before you go?” Opening her eyes just a crack she peered up at him.

"Nah, I don't burn that easily."

It had been a few days, and Clint was pretty sure, his skin and body had adapted, as long as he didn't have such brilliant ideas as walking and sitting under the raw noon sun. He just stole a small dollop of Natasha's sun screen for his face and neck to not risk another escapade of his body and hurried to the water then. It was still warm enough from the heat peak of the day to be comfortable, so he wasted no time wading in, impatient to leave the shallow coast with playing toddlers and splashing adults behind. He wasn't feeling awfully social today.

The embarrassing incident by the house still on his mind, he took it easy, making his way to the border of the buoys, with calm, long strokes instead of a mad crawling pace. He shut his senses down and relied on his instincts, small irregularities and noises in the waves around him to avoid other swimmers, until he left them behind. Going slow but without stopping, until the thick rope connecting the buoys finally bumped against his fist and he brought his body to a halt.

Immediately the memory wanted to emerge how Natasha and him had made out here and he grinned. But when he turned his head to the beach, he could hardly make out her pale shape in the distance. Not paying attention on the way, he hadn't even realized how far the tide had carried him west, away from their remote little family beach. No wonder he was a little out of breath. He was half way on the far arm of Naxos. Well, that would be a long swim back.

"Any more bad ideas for today, Barton?"

With a half amused, half unnerved sigh, he forced his body to relax and lay back with one arm lazily slung around that rope, until only the waves carried him. The sun was too bright, too stinging, so after a few seconds he rolled around just as drowsily. Might as well use the chance to get his eyes used to salt water again. It was embarrassing how little he could see between these masses of blue and green.

After a minute or two at least something like relaxation kicked in, in spite of the growing tightness in his chest, and he could make out more than blurry shapes of fish and sea urchins around. Not that much too see that close to the coast. He remembered that boat trip Natasha and him had talked about and wondered if they would actually get around to do that. Somehow he had a feeling, her stomach wouldn't agree.

He had done a lot of diving and breath control exercise when he had been out with the Seahorse, he remembered. Not much else to do when you were bordering an Italian island, to wait for some dealer's meeting that would probably never happen.

Promptly, that damn scar between his shoulder blades began to tickle as if it had just waited for his brain to go to this place. He could swear to have felt a touch right there where he just couldn't fucking see, just a fingertip... Before he could reach back, it was over and he huffed at his own paranoia, wasting precious oxygen from his lungs. It didn't matter. The heaviness in his limbs felt good, the pressure wasn't painful yet. Maybe this was a good day for a new record.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his arm tighter around that rope, giving in to the dancing lights and flickers before his closed lids. This time it was his own inner ocean he tried to see through, tried to set into shape, without much success. Was it in there? This one face he could never place, so awfully young and helpless looking and yet...

Again the touch right along his scar, but this time he knew it was memory and ignored it, instead tried to hold on to this single outstanding moment he could see clear this time. Why was she touching him? Had she tried to help when they had come from behind? She shouldn't be here anymore. He had sent her away, to freedom, to safety, along with the others, her and her baby...

You have no business here.

Really, again? Maria and him had gone through this. As if he would leave a bunch of young girls in the hands of Sicily's worst underground scam. If she wanted him out of here, she would need to send a fucking extraction team.

Only when he turned around - in truth it was just a labored, weak tilt of his head - he saw that it hadn't been Maria talking to him at all. The girl looked at him with her cold, dead eyes and wiped her blood-stained fingers on his cheek, while the first wave of pain rippled through his chest and his lungs started to protest against even the smallest breath.

You should have stayed away, signore. Living at the foot of a volcano teaches you how to survive. We don't need your kind for that.

She was fading again, he couldn't make out half of what she was saying - or maybe he was just feeling too dizzy - but what he did see was that bloody blade suddenly much too close to a helpless wriggling tiny body. A terrifyingly trained, swift stroke...

He wanted to scream, to order, to control, the way he had been taught, but there was no air for that in his lungs. He felt himself reach out and slip, slip away like that whole mad, fucked up, blurry scenario, salt in his mouth and the deafening drum roll of his own heart in his ears...

Then he found himself spitting and wheezing back in the heat without really remembering how he got there. Nausea was sitting in his stomach, from swallowing water or too much bullshit in his head or both. Leaning heavily on the underwater rope, he tried to get his shit together enough to swim back. Enough fun in stranger tides for the moment.

She watched Clint until he disappeared into the beautiful blue-green sea then settled her head back down on her arms and closed her eyes. For a long time she just listened to the sounds around her; people talking, children laughing, waves crashing in the distance. It was so peaceful here, yet also so full of life. New York was always teaming with people, but everyone was always in such a rush to get everywhere. Here they took their time, enjoyed themselves. It was definitely the sort of place one could settle down in and raise a family.

Could she ever be one of those people, though? Could she ever really settle down?

This was crazy, the very idea of the two of them raising a child was completely insane, but what other choice did they have? She couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to give it up once she had it either. More than that there was a part of her that wanted it. Despite everything, despite knowing that the idea was nuts and it would never work, she still wanted it, this little piece of her and Clint that was growing inside of her.

Rolling over onto her back, Natasha rubbed her hand over her stomach, raising her head to inspect the slight roundness that had recently formed. She had no idea how to deal with children, could barely even remember her own mother, so how did she really expect to be a mother herself?

You won’t have to do this alone, she reminded herself, not that Clint’s childhood made him a better candidate or anything. Together, though, they had always been able to accomplish anything, and she had to hope that this would be the same. It would be a struggle, and she had no idea what would happen with S.H.I.E.L.D., but they could do this, the both of them. They had to.

“For a ‘miracle’ you really are throwing a wrench into everything,” she said quietly, the softest of smile curving her lips.

The way back to the beach felt a lot more exhausting, even though Clint went at an even slower pace now. He was perfectly aware that he had pulled a pretty silly stunt out there by the buoys, asking too much of his body when his mind wasn't in the right set for such stupidities. So he paused a few times to not be completely out of breath once he got back to Natasha, let the waves carry him and tried to find the relaxation he had actually hoped for out here.

It didn't come. If anything, the restlessness was growing worse. Knowing his own stupid dickhead, he was pretty sure, he would make it just through another few days before sending that damn file request to headquarters. This all was getting ridiculous.

He wasn't a master of disguise like Natasha but he did have enough training in keeping his body under control, so he somehow made it out of the water without letting his trembling knees show too much. But he was definitely more relieved than he should be when he could finally settle back on his damn towel.

The sight of Natasha, at least her seemingly completely relaxed and enjoying herself, helped pull his head out of that dull broody space. Especially since she had her hand on her belly, reminding him immediately of all the strange, amazing things that had happened in the last few days. He ignored the uncomfortable shiver going with that association of a fully rounded belly in the back of his head and leaned over her to press a short kiss to her hand and then her belly, without even thinking about it.

"Hey."

He turned to his side, resting on one arm to smile down on her, but his muscles were still worn out from that workout in the water and threatened to give in, so he rather lied back down.

Lifting her head when Clint approached, Natasha smiled as he reclaimed his towel beside her, though her brow furrowed a little at the gentle kisses. It wasn’t a bad furrow; it was more that she was touched by the gesture, and reminded of just how real this was. There was life growing inside of her right now, a part of him and a part of her; it was terrifying and exciting and while she still didn’t know how to feel about it all, the simple gestures like that made it all seem so easy, if only for a moment.

“Hey,” she greeted back. Pushing herself up to sit, Natasha removed two water bottles from the bag, setting one beside Clint and uncapping the other for a sip. “Did you enjoy your swim?” she asked, running her fingers down his torso to feel the water warm on his skin.

"Well, at least I'll sleep like a fucking rock tonight."

There was no use trying to lie to someone like Natasha so he didn't even try, but he didn't say more about it either. And it was true, physically exhausting himself might indeed have helped to find some good rest tonight.

He emptied half the water bottle in one go to get the taste of salt out of his mouth, ignoring the quiet protest of both his stomach and his head against the sudden coldness overload, and laid back down then, with one arm under his head. His other hand caught Natasha's and pulled it close for a gentle touch of his lips, to let her know, he was okay, they were okay. He just needed to let that damn restlessness behind, and distraction was always a good way to go.

"Want me to read a bit for you again?"

She knew he did this, pushed himself too hard when he was trying to escape something, but she appreciated his honesty and in the end she was grateful he had come back. She knew the urge to run had to be strong sometimes, but so far he was still with her, even if he was putting his body through some grueling paces.

“Hopefully you haven’t worn yourself out too much,” she teased suggestively, splaying her fingers over his stomach. She was feeling progressively better as the day wore on, and while she may be more tired by the evening it had been a couple of days... “I was thinking of cashing in my massage raincheck tonight.”

Setting her bottle aside, she retrieved the book from the bag and handed it to him. “Only if you feel like it. If you would rather just close your eyes and relax, I’m completely fine with that as well,” she said. Turning her towel so it was perpendicular to his, she lay on her back, using him as a pillow, wanting to be close but not too much so in the sun and heat.

"I'll definitely remember that later."

Clint colored his answer with a deep, suggestive slur, reminding Natasha that while he wasn't at his best with birthdays and shit, he had a very good memory when it came to other kind of things.

Her hand on his skin had his muscles twitch in pure reflex and had him suck in a quiet breath, but fortunately right now he was feeling too worn out for his hormones to jump on that train.

He just relaxed back and let Natasha get comfortable on his body, softly running his fingertips through her hair. He kept that book by his side but he wasn't in a hurry with starting that read. Not when Natasha's hair felt so nice against his skin and he could have spend the next hours just like this, drawing small circles with his fingertips on her shoulders and arms.

It didn't take long at all for his hand to wander deeper, carefully explore that little roundness of Natasha's belly, always ready to retreat when she wanted it.

"This is so much better than swimming to get your mind off things."

The massage was something that Clint would definitely remember, she knew that. Dates and times weren’t really his thing, but he remembered things when it counted.

With her head pillowed on his stomach, Natasha closed her eyes and let out a content sigh when Clint started stroking his fingers through her hair while his other hand danced over her skin. It felt really nice, the touch soothing and unassuming. Her stomach clenched involuntarily when he first moved his hand to it but she soon relaxed again, softly trailing her fingertips up and down his arm.

“It’s certainly less taxing,” she said, turning her head to the side so she could look at him. She didn't ask, but the way he was touching her she was sure it wasn't the pregnancy he was trying to keep his mind off of. It had to be this place, the mission that had left him with nightmares he couldn't grasp. She wished she could help him, could tell him what he needed to know, but she was more in the dark than him.

And again, Natasha didn't ask, didn't even give him the feeling, he had to say something if he didn't want to. And as usual, that freedom had him much more in the mood to answer than every tiresome session with a whitecoat or his superiors.

It wasn't fair, brooding all day when they should be having fun, and not even trying to put an end to it. He had promised Natasha, he would be with her in all this and he meant to. He had to get his own shit together if he wanted to gather the strength he would need for that.

"Been thinking a little out there", he murmured, tracing her cheek and that light frown on her forehead with one fingertip. "Remind me not to do that again. Or you might have to put on a red swimsuit and pull my stupid ass out of there next time.
I'm just not getting anywhere. The blockade around the memories from this mission here won't move and I'm getting tired of peering through its holes. Guess I'll call headquarters when we get home and try to get them to send me the files.
The shrinks will have mental orgasms. Good old nutcase Barton proofs once again he can't let go of the past."

He pulled his face and sighed, shrugging. Oh well. He hadn't expected to be let out of evaluations any time soon anyway.

"Whatever. Who knows if they even give it to me. Probably easier if you used your stunning charm on Maria to get into that database."

Natasha knew how his mind worked: if he felt like he was being pushed then he would shut down completely, but if she left it open, left it all up to him though obvious she wanted to listen if he wanted to speak, then he would open up to her when he was ready, entirely unprompted.

Her brow furrowed further at his words. He made it sound like a joke, but there was obvious truth to it. He had pushed himself and then distracted himself and the outcome could have been much worse than it was. The very thought of it made her stomach sink but she determinately ignored it. He had more to say, so she stayed silent and listened.

The way he spoke made her heart ache. Did he truly believe that of himself, or just that others did? But the fact that he was admitting he needed help, that he couldn’t remember on his own and needed the file, proved how bad this whole thing had affected him.

Catching his hand in hers, she brought it to her lips, placing kisses over his palm and fingers. “If you think it will help I can see what I can do,” she replied. She had many options at her disposal. She could do as he said and speak with Maria directly, or she could call in a few ‘favours’ and get one of the underlings to pull the file for her. If that was what he wanted she would do it in a heartbeat.

"Thank you."

A surge of relief went through Clint. He kept on stroking her lips and cheek softly, letting her see the smile that slowly settled back on his lips. More talking, less brooding, right. One of these days he would learn it.

"They might take it better when you ask them. Less questions. You're kind of my shrink here, after all. And yes... It's better when I get that memory back. It's just..."

He hesitated, searching for the right words for what was going on inside him. It would be lying, saying he did know for sure. He just knew he couldn't sit it out like he usually used to. He wasn't alone in this world, in his life, in a relationship anymore that had lost every loose character.

"We're starting into something pretty overwhelming and demanding here. Good time to finish up a few building site in that old thick head here. Wise man used to tell me, there's no future if you live in the past."

There was very little Natasha wouldn’t do to see that smile, and her lips curled upwards against his hand. He was right as well; the request would come with questions, and she would be better prepared to answer them than him. She had no connection to the case, no emotions to get in the way, but Clint needed to know what happened and that desperation would likely show through and make it more difficult for him.

She gave him the time he needed to gather his thoughts and decide what he wanted to say, and was pleased with the results. “Very wise words,” she agreed, as they were pretty close to her personal motto. She didn’t shy away from her past, but she didn’t live in regret either. Her past was her past and there was nothing she could do to change it; she could only move forward and ensure that what she did with her present, her future, could at least partially help her atone.

“When we leave here I’ll make the call. We’ll have to decide on a way for them to send it to us.”

"Shouldn't be much of a problem. They can send a hardcopy to a postal office in the capital. That's a nice trip for us to see a little bit of the countryside."

Clint carefully wrapped one of her curls around a fingertip and used the others to tickle Natasha's neck, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"Since we probably can't go on that boat trip I promised you, unless little peanut and your stomach find an agreement... At least that way I get to show you around."

Even though the whole situation clearly rattled Clint, he was still able to think rationally and give her an easy answer. It was comforting. “That sounds like a nice trip,” Natasha replied. It might be nice to just get into the car and drive, and it was always nice to take in some different scenery. She had hoped to see more before their vacation had gotten derailed but it wasn’t too late.

Grinning and twitching away from his teasing fingers, Natasha reached back to give his thigh a playfully warning pinch. There were very few places where she was actually ticklish but she was pretty sure Clint knew them all, not that he often proved it.

Moving her hand to her stomach again, she looked down at how it rounded just slightly even with her laying down. Peanut, she thought, and really, it was a pretty good description of the ultrasound photo. Still, it was the first time he’d referred to the baby as anything less than formal and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It sent a stab of longing through her, of pure and utter want. She was trying so hard to not get too attached until they at least got through the first trimester, but it got more difficult by the minute. She wasn’t yet prepared to admit that it wasn’t only that she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it, but that there was a part of her that actually wanted this. “My own personal tour guide,” she said, finally looking back at Clint. “Often women find that the sickness passes after the first few months, so we may get that boat ride yet.” She actually sounded hopeful. It was a dangerous path.

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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