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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"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.

"Cruel woman."

Clint chuckled and quickly got his leg out of reach. Natasha knew exactly where to make it sting if she wanted to. They would attract quite the attention if they got into a playful sparring session right now.

Soon enough though, it was Natasha's turn to fall into a much too serious tune for an afternoon in the sun, and he immediately regretted not continuing the teasing instead. It wasn't like he didn't understand her, on the contrary. It was only by mostly trying not to think about the still very present risks too much, that he got through the day. Right now there wasn't really anything they could do besides waiting and hoping. They both weren't too good at that.

"We will, and it will be awesome."

He lowered his head for a quick kiss to her forehead and tried to put all optimism he found inside into his words while his hand wandered back to her belly, just resting there warmly.

"Just think about it, lonely beach, star-shine on the water... We'll roast marshmallows, sing stupid country songs and then..."

His grin turned definitely dirty, making further spoken speculations unnecessary.

She knew she couldn’t live like this, couldn’t keep herself detached just in case everything took a turn for the worse, and it wasn’t fair of her to expect Clint to either. Maybe she wasn’t ready to start picking out names, but she couldn’t pretend like this wasn’t happening either, couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t a life growing inside of her.

Surprisingly, Clint’s optimism helped and she found herself smiling warmly at him and covering his hand on her belly to hold it there. There was nothing really to feel yet, but it was there, and it was time she accepted that. Worrying would only do damage and make the chances even greater of her fears coming true.

He painted a wonderful picture, and she was just closing her eyes and letting the scene play out in her mind when he trailed off very suggestively. Looking up at that filthy grin she let out a laugh. “I didn’t know country songs got you into the mood.”

"Depends on the occasion. Campfire and country just always comes as a pair."

Her smile was so much better to look at and Clint did his best to keep it there. Making a fool out of himself always was a good way for that. And there never was a wrong time for some pop culture lecture.

"You know, like in this old Star Trek movie when the war veterans are doing 'Row row row your boat'. Gets me all melancholic and shit and I need to need to snuggle really badly."

He pulled her a little closer to emphasize his words and gave her that exaggerated seductive look, biting his lower lip with a grin, just to hear her laugh again.

Natasha practically giggled at his actions and swatted playfully at him when he pulled her closer. The combination of that look and those words made it impossible not to laugh.

“If old men singing a children’s song gets you all hot and bothered I may need to reconsider a few things,” she replied.

Shifting around so she was practically sharing his towel with him now, she stretched out the length of his side and placed one hand on his chest, resting her chin on it.

"Not the old guys, just the sappy romance of a good old campfire."

Natasha getting that close was a very welcome change of position. He leaned down to kiss her, just softly, slightly, because he knew he would still taste of salt, and finally reached for that book then. The shadow on his face when he rested it on his chest was very welcome after the heat in the water. And if he got a little lost in thought again instead of in the story he began to read to Natasha, in his best clear, accent-free Italian to make it easier for her to follow, at least she wouldn't see.

The hand not turning pages was caressing her neck and back, harmlessly, softly massaging fingertips treasuring every inch of skin her bathing suit revealed while he spoke. Sometimes he played a little with the strings of her top, just to tease her, but never made a move to open them. Only an unspoken promise that he would definitely up for more games later.

His adventure in the water had still left traces, though, and it wasn't long before his water bottle was empty and his throat still felt sore. His eyes longingly wandered to that one stand in the distance, where they had bought their granita the other day, and he sighed. Getting Natasha to move away from him and letting go off her was pretty far the last thing on his mind right now.

Settling down against him, Natasha turned her head to rest it more comfortably against his chest as he started to read. He had a lovely speaking voice, and she could tell he was making an extra effort to keep his words clear and concise. She loved listening to the soft Italian rolling off of his tongue, and before long she was entirely engrossed, both in the words and him.

His touch felt good, soothing and soft and occasionally teasing, and for a moment she thought she could have stayed like this forever. In answer to his caressing fingertips she let her own trail over his ribs, his shoulder, never once straying to tease. Every once in a while, though, she would turn her face against him and place a gentle kiss to his skin, tasting warmth and salt.

As comfortable and almost dreamlike as this was, Natasha didn’t fail to notice how quickly Clint finished his water, nor how his eyes strayed to the food stands up the beach. She didn’t want to move, but she couldn’t make him suffer either. Slowly she pushed herself up to sit beside him. “I’m going fro a swim,” she announced. It was near time she got into the water and it would give Clint time to rehydrate himself.

"The book and me will be waiting."

Clint winked at her and dutifully put Natasha's bookmark back in before he lazily pushed himself up, wallet in hand, to restock their supplies. He didn't leave without watching Natasha stroll to the water of course, with a very appreciative grin. Her little teasing back hadn't gone unnoticed and just sparked that little fire further that promised an adventurous night.

For that he would need some energy though. Whether it was that knowledge or simply his body screaming for nutrition, it was calming that his stomach reacted to just seeing that food trailer with audible demands. He decided that a big strawberry granita contained enough calories and sugar to not feel light-headed again and brought an extra bottle of water for Natasha, for after her little workout. He shortly thought of buying a can of beer just to get his mind a little off things, but for once he really wasn't a fan of that stuff... And the Italian idea of beer was even worse than what they served in your everyday pub.

Besides, he had yet to see the day when drinking would make anything better.

"How about this one then?"
The girl behind the counter obviously had watched his struggle and came up with a half full bottle of grog from under the food shelves, with a mischievous little grin.
"First one's for free. How about drinking to the end of the Summer?"

Clint decided that the girl was definitely eying him a little too interested and denied politely. Natasha would probably have his guts if he started drinking hard stuff at this time of the day. And a splitting headache tomorrow definitely wouldn't make things better.

He spent his time while indulging his ice cream watching Natasha a little and flipping through the first pages of his own book, but just as expected he didn't have the focus to read. It was so much more interesting, keeping his eyes on his partner and enjoy how relaxed she looked, how easy with something that wasn't quite training, but still so much more graceful than what most people called swimming.

If he hadn't felt so wrung out, maybe he would have joined her again, just for that warm, calming feeling of her body close to his in the water. Maybe they could improvise later, in the shower. After how patient she had been with his brooding and irrationality today, she definitely deserved to be looked after and pampered for a few hours...

Natasha could feel Clint’s eyes on her as she walked, and if she added a little extra swivel to her hips then she could hardly be at fault.

The water was warm and inviting and she dove in as soon as she was deep enough to do so. Swimming out to the buoys, she treaded water for a few minutes, trying to pick Clint out on the beach full of people. Part of her wished he was out there with her, but recalling their last foray into the sea it was probably good he wasn’t. As fun and hot as that had been she was pretty sure neither of them had the energy for that at the moment. It was better saved for later when they could have both feet on solid ground, or a surface to lay on.

Continuing her swim she alternated different strokes between relaxing floating until her limbs were the right amount of heavy and tired. Making her way back to shore she could see Clint on his towel, watching her, and smiled to herself. Even on a beach full of half naked women he only seemed to have eyes for her.

“The water here is perfect,” she said as she approached. Pulling her hair forward over one shoulder, she twisted it around, making sure to dribbled the water on his legs as she wrung it out.

"I know, honey, I've just been in."

Clint took revenge for her little game with using one of these stupid endearments they both weren't into, and made it a show to shiver from the cold drops that hit his skin.

From the corner of his eyes though, he watched Natasha closely and unashamed, enjoying the sight of her swimsuit clinging wet to her lush curves and the sun drying the water on her skin. He felt like leaning over and kissing away every of that little drop on her legs, and then a little higher and... And he really needed to get his mind out of the gutter before things could get embarrassing.

Instead he handed Natasha her bottle of water like a perfect gentleman and did his best to keep his eyes on level with hers.

"Enjoying yourself, I see?"

Giving him a mock glare for that little endearment, Natasha rolled her eyes and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. Taking the bottle he offered her, she took a long drink before sitting down on her towel again and stretching her legs out. Placing her hands behind her she leaned her weight on them and tilted her head back, closing her eyes and letting the sun dry her skin.

“Very much,” she said, smiling a little. It wasn’t just teasing Clint she had been enjoying but just being here with him. Swimming in the warm water, relaxing in the sun, and feeling at peace for the moment despite everything else that that was throwing their lives off kilter.

"Glad to hear."

Clint hoped it sounded as honest as he meant it, in spite of him feeling slightly distracted by Natasha's posture, which presented her body in a most delightful way.

A grin playing on his lips, he moved behind her to wrap her in his arms, frame her legs with his. That way of course he got even wetter from Natasha's still damp skin but suddenly he couldn't care anymore. With a very content little purr he covered her shoulders with little kisses, just like he had fantasized about it a second ago and pressed his body close to hers, shivering a little both at the water hitting his skin and the tempting associations the embrace brought.

"Just needed to remind myself how good that feels", he murmured against her ear and placed another kiss there then.

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Natasha Romanoff | The Black Widow

September 2020

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