study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

They didn’t get a lot of time off together, at least not enough to make a trip away worthwhile, so for this one weekend they decided to stay in the city and play tourist for the day.

They had started with a walk through Central Park before grabbing an early lunch at one of the city’s many street vendors and then wandering through the American Museum of Natural history. Natasha found the Hall of Minerals fascinating while Clint had gotten a kick out of all the dinosaur bones. They both enjoyed laying under the big blue whale with all the normal people.

Afterwards they went to a nice restaurant for supper, blending into the crowd of normal couples as best they could and Natasha actually forgot if she was playing a role or being herself as they finished their wine and shared their desserts.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely as they left the restaurant, stepping back into the cool night air. Nearby a busker played guitar and sang with surprising melody and soul, barely seeming to notice as people threw change into his open case, so caught up was he in his music. 

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Her hand was wet and sticky so she just laid it against his hip as she curled up against him. Moving to rest her head on his chest when he finished trembling, she smiled at the simple thank you and placed a soft kiss through his shirt over his heart. She knew the thanks was for more than just a fantastic blow job, and she knew how much he meant it so she didn’t brush it off. As was her way she accepted it wordlessly; he would know all he needed from her kiss and how she held him just a little tighter.

For a long moment they lay in silence and she could feel his breath and his heartbeat slowing and steadying. She had never been a ‘cuddler’ before, but then she had never been with someone before who she trusted so completely to let her guard down like this. Now she enjoyed it a lot more than anyone called the Black Widow probably ever should.

Despite the not too comfortable ground, Clint wouldn't have minded at all, spending a little more time here with Natasha in his arm. They had spent whole nights on harder floors. And they had nowhere to be until tomorrow.

He actually felt the tiredness from before coming back, from the few minutes of dozing in her apartment. Closing his eyes for a while sounded pretty good right now, just like this, with his hand softly placed on her neck and her body breathing against his...

But in one of his deep, content sighs suddenly mixed the sound of his stomach rumbling so loud that Natasha probably would be half dead for the next two hours.

Clint huffed, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Sorry. Blame it on your exceptional skills."

Natasha too was content and comfortable to stay where they were for a while longer, but apparently Clint’s stomach had other ideas. Following the loud growl of his stomach there was a moment of dead silence before Clint spoke. After that Natasha could no longer hold it in and burst out laughing.

“And we didn’t even get very... athletic this time,” she said, raising her head to look at him, a wide smile on her face. “What do you think? Pizza? Chinese?”

Maybe she couldn’t handle every day being normal like this, she needed the excitement and challenge the job offered, but more moments just like this one? She could definitely get on board for that.

"We'll have all the pizza we can wish for in the next weeks."

Well, unless someone would try and lock them up tomorrow, but Clint decided he didn't want to ponder about that anymore right now and didn't lose his grin for even a second.

"Chinese sounds perfect."

He suppressed a yawn and took a lazy look around, trying to remember where he had thrown his jacket, when he remembered, Natasha had his phone.

"I'm afraid, we'll just have to get up for that, though."

Natasha nodded at his choice but otherwise didn’t move until he stated the obvious. “Mm, well we have to get up to eat anyway,” she said, placing a soft kiss to his jaw, “and I don’t know about you,” another on his chin, “but answering the door in these clothes,” at the corner of his lips, “might not be pleasant for the delivery guy.” Finally she reached his lips, and when she kissed him there she lingered a little longer.

“Besides,” she continued, lifting her head to look at him again as she traced his bottom lip just lightly with one finger. “We should really wash our hands before touching anything else.” The grin she gave him then was positively wicked.

"As always, you're the wise one, woman."

Clint made a show of a heavy sigh but didn't miss the chance for another kiss on her lips before he somehow pushed himself up and pulled Natasha up with him. He wiped the worst of mess off his skin with the fabric of his clothes before peeling them off his body, completely unashamed, and sauntering off to the bathroom naked.

"You can throw your things into the washer-dryer too, if you want, then they're good again in a few hours", he called over his shoulder with a grin. "Wanted to do a round before packing anyway. You want to order in the meantime? Just taking a quick shower."

It was only reluctantly that Natasha let Clint up, and that she let him help her up as well. Despite the hard floor it had been warm and comfortable, but eating had to be a priority here. It was with no reluctance, though, that she watched Clint strip off his clothes and walk through his apartment in all his confident and naked glory. He had the kind of ass that jut begged to be bitten.

She let him go with only a quick affirmation before heading to the kitchen to wash her hands. Her pants were still sopping and uncomfortable, but she decided to take care of the food first before getting comfortable again. Ordering their usual, she fished enough cash out of her wallet to cover it all and set it on the counter before heading for the bathroom herself where she could already hear the water running. Removing her clothes she through them into the wash along with their still damp ones from yesterday.

"Just help yourself from my closet again."

Clint peeked out from behind the shower wall, acknowledging Natasha's nudity with a short grin, and grabbed a towel. He didn't trust himself with inviting her in, so he got himself at least dry enough to grab some sweatpants for the rest of the evening. Then he made space for her, in case she wanted to shower too.

"Um... I'll just take a short look downstairs, make sure, that generator won't die on me before they bring the new one."

Fortunately he sounded far more casual than he felt after that short silly little idea he had just gotten in the shower. Probably Natasha would just laugh, or find it awkward or something, tell him to grow up... But for once he really did need to make a short check on the house, he always did in the evening, when he slept at home. These five minutes had become something of a ritual, mostly more to relish this seldom known feeling of security, of something that was his and that he was needed in. And since he already had to put on a jacket and shoes for that... Well, then he could as well do a short visit in that shop next door, owned by a very friendly, quiet old man who pretty much was the only person except for Natasha Clint wanted to deal with today still.

"Back in a second."

Hopefully his slightly red cheeks could be blamed on the shower. Though he did have a feeling, Natasha knew him far too well anyway to buy it.

Looking back over her shoulder at Clint she returned his smile before grabbing a towel and a washcloth for herself. “I was planning on it,” she said, because she had packed enough clothes for their trip along with something to wear tomorrow, but nothing for tonight.

Leaning back against the washer, Natasha watched him curiously as he suddenly made a turn for the awkward. It could be her nudity distracting him, but it was hardly enough to have him blushing and acting cagey, not anymore. Even so, she let him go do whatever it was he didn’t want her to know he was doing, her mind turning over all the various possibilities but coming up with nothing satisfactory.

Tying her hair back so it wouldn’t get wet, she stepped into the shower just long enough to clean the mess from her body before drying off and heading back to his bedroom to raid his closet again. Settling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that both looked rather oversized on her, she moved back to the kitchen to collect up the money and wait for the food to arrive.

Clint counted fifteen embarrassing seconds of just standing outside with the keys in his hand, his souvenir held awkwardly behind his back before he finally brought himself to get back inside. This was stupid, really stupid, they didn't do romantic. They didn't do high school, for fucks sake.

Maybe it would make her laugh at least.

He found her in the kitchen with the food not there yet. Which fortunately meant, she'd only have a few minutes before the delivery boy would arrive, to kick his ass.

"So, um..."

His cheeks were a deep flame of red now, and he probably grinned like the last idiot when he carefully put the small bouquet of three orchids and a few jasmines on the kitchen table. Pretty much the last change he had had in his jacket pockets and they weren't completely fresh anymore but the bright colors looked nice, and the guy in the shop hopefully knew his shit about the meaning.

"I just thought..."

He shrugged a little, feeling more silly than ever.

"You know, for... today and all."

Natasha had been flipping idly through her phone when she’d heard Clint’s footsteps approaching the door. When he didn’t open it right away, instead just lingering in the hallway, she set the phone aside and looked toward the door as if she could see him through it. Eventually he walked in and joined her in the kitchen and she tried to keep her expression neutral as she took in his flushed cheeks and the silly grin on his face. The grin, at least, allowed her to take a breath, the stab of worry she had felt fading.

Then he produced a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and at first her brows lowered in confusion before raising in surprise as she looked up to meet his eyes.

“You bought me flowers,” she stated, still unsure how to react. It wasn’t as if men hadn’t bought her flowers before, but they were always huge, expensive bouquets, and they were never for her. They were for Natalie or Nora or Nancy, and they never really meant anything, they were just a way to try to buy her affections.

Looking away from Clint and at the flowers again, Natasha touched the petal of one, careful not to damage it. They were slightly wilted, and not as extravagant as two dozen red roses, but she was sure she had never seen a more beautiful bouquet in her life. Picking it up she brought it to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled deeply; none had ever smelled sweeter either.

Raising her eyes to his again, she didn’t even try to hide how touched she was by the gesture. He sounded so unsure and nervous, how she expected a boy might act on a first date, but she wouldn’t know from experience, that had never been her life. He wasn’t trying to buy her or woo her; they weren’t an apology or a distraction. “You bought me flowers,” she said again. Not because he felt he had to, not because he had any particular purpose in mind, but because he wanted to, because he wanted to thank her, because he thought she might like them. She wasn’t sure his exact reason, wasn’t sure what had possessed him to do this, but it was absolutely perfect.

Walking around the counter she placed her free hand on his cheek and kissed him softly, letting him feel how much it meant to her. “They’re beautiful.” You’re beautiful.

After long seconds of uncertainty and calling himself a idiot over and over, Clint's breath of relief was definitely a loud one. In many aspects, Natasha wasn't like most other woman, she didn't like most of these things you always saw on TV or something. From the very beginning he had had to be very mindful not to trigger her with something that belonged to the bad sides of their job, or to a past that she had long left behind.

The last minutes had been a silent prayer that she would know what he wanted to tell her. Which was always the same. He wanted to make her smile. Make her feel good. And today, tell her how much it meant to him what she did for him.

Her kiss let that tense pressure in his stomach vanish immediately. He gladly wrapped his arms around her and allowed himself to drown in it, with half closed eyes, still watching her, because really, he never got tired of her smile. With his forehead gently resting against hers, he returned it, with all the affection, the admiration, the deep passion he felt for her. And the simple, deep joy of being with her. Being able to do this for her, to do things for her that made her happy.

"Anytime", he finally murmured, still blushing a little.

Natasha moved her arms to wrap lightly around his shoulders, the bouquet of flowers still dangling from her hand. Whenever he called her perfect she protested it, but she thought she finally understood when he said she was perfect to him. Clint certainly wasn’t without his faults, but in moments like these when he still managed to surprise her she knew he was perfect; perfect to her; perfect for her.

She didn’t know what else to say so she just let herself enjoy his presence, his closeness, and that happy smile on his face. He was still blushing, and it made her smile even wider and move to press her lips to his warm cheeks.

Of course then the buzzer sounded to interrupt the moment. “Food,” Natasha said, pulling back to look at Clint again. “Why don’t you get a movie set up and I’ll get the door?” And find something to put her flowers in. Even though they were leaving tomorrow she could enjoy them tonight. Maybe she could even hang them to dry somewhere while they were away so the flowers would be preserved whenever they returned.

The sound of the doorbell reminded Clint of his empty stomach. He used the time while Natasha went to get their food, to decorate the sofa table with two wine glasses and the needed dishes and came up with an untouched bottle of red vine from the kitchen. Perfect for a quiet evening.

He grabbed for one of the movies in his brand new box pretty blindly and grinned when it turned out to be the last with Pierce Brosnan. Not his very favorite Bond but they had the most fun potential, that much was for sure.

"Just when I was about to starve", he grinned when she joined him.

By now the street clothes had found the way to the floor and he hadn't bothered to put on a shirt again. He did have an idea, she wouldn't mind.

Setting her flowers carefully back on the counter, Natasha didn’t bother with shoes or a jacket, despite the fact that the hallways were much cooler than Clint’s apartment. Money in hand, she quickly descended the stairs, reaching the front door just as the delivery man pressed the buzzer to ring again. Her body was well covered in Clint’s baggy clothes, though the gust of air on her bare feet when she opened the door made her shiver. Trading the money for the bag of food, she thanked the man, bid him good night and locked the door again before rushing back up the stairs.

Reentering Clint’s homey space, she locked the door behind her before moving back to the kitchen. There wasn’t a vase to be found in Clint’s place, though she didn’t look very hard for one, instead settling for a rather large beer stein that would have to do. Filling it with water, she carefully placed her flowers in it before carrying it and the bag of food to the living room where Clint waited, looking rather appetizing himself, a fact she knew he was perfectly aware of.

“We can’t have that,” she said, placing the glass to one side of the table so as not to block the television. Taking a seat beside him, she pulled her legs up to cross them on the cushion and set the bag of food in her lap as she pulled several containers from it. “Good thing I ordered extras.”

"You just know how to keep me in shape."

Chuckling, Clint helped her arrange the various parts of their diner onto their plates in equal shares and started to dig in with little grace and patience then. It was a relict of his childhood and later, of years spent on the street. He could do courtly and luxury restaurants if he had to - though frankly the rich guy wasn't his favorite cover - but in his spare time, he always was quick with his food. Like it would be gone if he did take his time. Some things just kind of stuck. One of these days Natasha would call him a caveman for it, he was sure.

At least he thought of pouring them both a glass of wine before he started, and there was also a carafe with water on the table. Drinking much tonight definitely wasn't a good idea with all that trouble waiting tomorrow. Fury was a pain in the ass to deal without a hangover as it was.

“Don’t worry, we can work it off later,” she said with a grin.

Setting the containers aside once the food was divvied up, Natasha removed her chopsticks from the package and broke them apart. She was pretty much an expert at using them by now, but she had barely gotten one bite in before Clint had at least a quarter of his plate cleared. Life had taught him to eat when he could, to not give anyone a chance to take it away, while Natasha had been trained to be delicate and to look alluring and attractive, even while eating. Of course this was training that Clint made it easy to brush aside, and when she looked over to see him shoveling his food into his mouth she grinned before taking a much larger and ungraceful bite herself.

Fixing her eyes on the screen, she delighted in the opening credit sequence. No matter how the rest of the movies turned out, the opening credits were always a good watch.

When Clint caught Natasha's grin, his cheeks once took a very interesting color and he at least tried to slow down a little and turn his gaze to the screen. Though he had to admit, she looked cute with a bit of sweet and sour sauce on her chin... Not that he would ever tell her that.

"Sorry. If it gets too much, you can just put a collar on me and walk me around the house, deal?"

Very fitting. They were just watching the hero get tortured by the hot dominatrix in the uniform and the hooker boots.

"Why is it always the evil chick, though? They should hire a dominant guy in leather and fishnets for once for these scenes. Pretty sure that would freak out the guy much more."

“As punishment for your eating habits, or just for fun?” she teased, popping a piece of broccoli into her mouth and giving him a wide but close lipped smile. She noticed that he at least wasn’t inhaling his food anymore, not that she minded. He was just fun to tease.

Taking a sip of wine, she settled in to watch the movie before throwing Clint a look for his comment, one eyebrow perfectly arched. “Because the target audience for these movies would be just as freaked out. At least half of them watch these films solely for the women,” she said. For a lot of viewers the Bond Girls were a big part of the attraction. “Would you prefer it with a man instead?”

"I'm clearly not the target audience then. I enjoy the silliness of the stories and the action."

Shrugging, Clint sucked a little bit of sauce off his thumb and cringed at the very unpleasant pictures of water torture. Yep, definitely a good thing they were off to warm realms for a while.

"Just saying, would be kind of interesting to see the incarnation of Don Juan confronted with a guy in a sexual situation. Then the greenhorns at the academy would at least have some reference material. They don't exactly teach you how to handle a situation like that before you get to seduce the rich guy."

He made a little more show than necessary of shuddering to keep it light. He had been lucky with that kind of stuff, really, since he was mostly on his sniper post. But that night club in Budapest - long before shit had really hit the fan there - wasn't exactly his most pleasant mission memory.

The silliness and the action were the only reason Natasha bothered with these films at all... well, that and the fact that Clint loved them. Really, if they took themselves too seriously they wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable.

Chewing thoughtfully on a mouthful of noodles, she regarded Clint as he spoke, reading between the lines as only she could with him. He was still trying to keep the tone light, a tone she was hoping they could keep with for the evening, so she turned her attention back to the screen again. “I doubt the filmmakers would ever have the balls. Although there was that one scene in the newest movie.”

Clint was more sniper than spy, just like Natasha was more spy than soldier, but sometimes their specialities crossed over. It hadn’t been the same since New York, though. Not any of it. The more time passed the more excited she was getting about the prospect of leaving tomorrow. At first it had been all about Clint, but she found herself looking forward to it more and more herself.

“Maybe I should have packed my fishnets and leather,” she said casually, rolling a breaded chicken ball around in the sweet and sour sauce. Turning her head to look at Clint again she popped the entire thing into her mouth and grinned at him. Only for him did she ever let her silly side out. To everyone else it was pretty much nonexistent.

"Well, remind me to put that one in next. Maybe I can learn a few things."

Clint nearly sputtered his wine at her last teasing and shook his head with a laugh.

"You're more the corset and gloves type to me. But you know me..."

Within two seconds he was from joking to serious, from teasing to tender, reaching out to caress her knee.

"You'll drive me crazy anytime, no matter what you look like."

The corset she could definitely do; she even had a pretty little purple and black number she had bought just for Clint.

When he got all sweet and tender on her she leaned over and gave him a quick peck on his cheek, unable to do much else with her mouth full. Setting her chopsticks down she placed her hand over his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” she said after she swallowed. “Because you know what vacations are for. I may go days without showering and wearing make-up. I might not even brush my hair.”

"I think, you look lovely without make up and all."

This time he made it without blushing at least, and showed her with a quick kiss on her hand that he actually meant it. Then he was all over his food again, though. Some habits were hard to ignore.

He still meant it. On the screen there were people like Madonna, Halle Berry and Rosamund Pike doing their thing, and if he was asked, he would always be able to say honestly, there was just one woman that he truly felt attracted to.

Many people said such a thing to women, whether they meant it or not, but with Clint she knew he meant it. She actually hadn’t worn a spot of make-up all day, she hadn’t seen much point when she knew they would just go an mess it up again, but he still looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

“Well good, because I didn’t pack much of it,” she said, smiling softly when he kissed her hand like a perfect gentleman. Then he started devouring his food again and her smile widened a little before she tucked into her own.

Honestly, she really didn't get the attraction to James Bond. Sure, he was smooth and charming, and a lot of people enjoyed the accent, but she had met enough men in her life like him who thought they were amazing and that no woman could resist them. On the screen no woman did, but Natasha knew a man like that would never stand a chance with her.

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Natasha Romanoff | The Black Widow

September 2020

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