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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Natasha went tense immediately and Clint cursed inwardly. He had known it. Maybe he should have just hidden the things until tomorrow. But that wouldn't have been honest, and they at least tried to always be honest to each other. Besides, the old lady meant well. And who knew, maybe the stuff would help.

"Books and tea."

He reached for a big towel and held it out for Natasha to step into, carefully wrapping it around her body before pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

"We can take a look tomorrow if you like. Maybe there's a few useful tips in there."

Books and tea. Natasha felt awash with relief. Books and tea she could handle, books and tea would be for her, for the pregnancy, not for the baby, not for the fully formed being she could only hope it would become.

Stepping out of the shower and into the fluffy towel Clint held for her, she nodded. “It certainly couldn’t hurt,” she said, taking the end of the towel and tucking it in to secure it. She had actually considered going to the library herself to look for help on these next few months, at least, so it was kind of funny if she thought about it that Angelina had saved her the trouble.

Smiling reassuringly at Clint to set him at ease, she kissed him briefly on the lips before vacating the bathroom so he could get a shower himself.

Her first stop was the bedroom where she changed into a dress that was decidedly sexier than the light sundresses she had been wearing so far, but she couldn’t get her mind off of the books. Wrapping her hair up in the towel, she crept past the bathroom, where she could hear water running, to the kitchen for a quick peek.

She was touched to find not only the aforementioned gifts but the fruit Clint had thoughtfully set out for her.

Natasha's kiss, short but completely sincere, made it to scatter his worries quickly. They had to get engaged in all this sooner or later. That should be a reason to look forward, actually, not to worry even more.

Showering was done quickly as usual once she had left, and with her the everlasting temptation. When he stepped out of the tub he noted in the mirror that he had been catching quite a bit of tan in the last few days. The small cuts of claws and his own lack of self control on his arm had faded to faint brighter lines on his hands and arm. In spite of the excessive eating of the first few days and a pretty lazy workout routine, his body at least didn't try to fall out of shape yet, and the tan distracted the viewer from the shadows under his eyes.

Maybe that was another reason why he loved coming to these regions. A few weeks here always snipped a good ten years off his age, at least on the outside. Not that the himself really gave a damn, but Natasha always looked so perfect by his side and more often than not she dressed up only for him, so it wasn't asked too much to put a little effort into his own appearance.

He took another few minutes to take care of hair in places where it only got in the way and shaved that catastrophe on his face into a neat little goatee, well at least as neat as he could do that himself. A little hairspray and the aftershave he knew Natasha to like on top of it... More than enough for a short trip into the nightlife.

By that time his skin already dried so he didn't bother with a towel - nothing like a little teasing before they left - before he went outside to search for something not completely ragged looking in his drawer. The evenings had become cool enough for long pants, he decided after a moment. Not bothering with underwear, he went for some black pants and a shirt in the same color that happened to be maybe just one and a half size too small.

"So... What do you say?"

He left it open on purpose what exactly he was talking about and he honestly couldn't remember anyway as soon as he entered the kitchen and saw Natasha waiting for him in that dress.

"Oh fuck... You're trying to kill me, right?"

When she heard the shower cut out Natasha retreated to the bedroom to apply her make-up, but she had left the hairdryer in the bathroom so couldn’t do much about that yet. She could easily tie it up, but she knew Clint liked it best when she left it down so she combed through it with her fingers and left it to fall in damp waves around her shoulders. Finding shoes to match her dress, she made it back to the kitchen just before he exited the bathroom.

Nibbling on a mango slice, she let her eyes rake over him when he finally joined her. He always looked good in black.

“Now why would I want to do that?” she said, popping the rest of the fruit into her mouth and sucking the juice from her fingers. “You’re of much better use to me alive.”

Clint's eyes were drawn from Natasha's beautiful legs in that sinful dress to what her clever mouth did there immediately and he groaned a little, quickly turning to the fridge to get some cool water. Going out. Right. Food. Dancing.

And definitely not imagining how her mouth got busy somewhere entirely else. After a few sips that dangerous coiling heat inside was under control - at least for the moment - and he leaned against the table to offer Natasha the bottle, while he reached for a piece of mango himself.

"So, that means I'll have to watch my back only at the end of the night?"

He started to nibble on the sour-soft flesh with passion, licking his lips slowly in between just for a little revenge.

"Or are you just trying to motivate me? If I do well enough tonight, you'll keep me around, right?"

Natasha smirked a little at Clint’s reaction, her eyes following him as he moved past her to the fridge. Taking the bottle when he offered, she fully expected the retaliation and was able to prepare for it, though she was already looking forward to putting that tongue to better use later.

“Maybe,” was her only answer to all of his questions. Smiling enigmatically, she popped another piece of fruit into her mouth, this time not even trying to tease him, and handed the water back. “Ready when you are.”

She didn’t bother to go blowdry her hair, figuring the warm air outside would do so quickly enough. They were probably better off getting out of here as quickly as possible or they might not leave at all.

"Very calming. I better try to enjoy my last night then..."

Clint got rid of that rest of mango, very thoroughly cleaning his fingers with tongue and lips afterwards while he put the plate with the rest of the fruit in the fridge.

"Definitely plan to, you know..."

Without a warning, he swept Natasha in his arms and kissed her deeply, grabbing two handful of perfect ass to press her tightly against him. Just for a few seconds, just to enjoy how nice she tasted and smelled and how perfectly that dress hugged all her curves, then he let go off her quickly and offered her his arm like the perfect gentleman he was.

"Allow me the pleasure to take you to the car M'lady."

Perhaps Natasha had decided to behave, but it was very clear that Clint hadn’t. She watched his fingers disappear between those perfect lips one by one until they were clean of any juice left behind, and just when she thought he was done she let out a surprise yelp when he pulled her suddenly into his arms and kissed her.

She could taste nothing but mangoes and greedily returned the kiss, a sound emanating low in her throat when he squeezed her ass roughly and pressed her tightly against him. She was just about ready to ignore her hunger and start tearing at his clothes when just as suddenly as he had started down this path he quickly veered off again and acted as if nothing had happened.

A bit breathless she glared at him for a moment as her brain caught up with her body. If that was how he wanted to do this then two could certainly play at that game. Instantly the glare melted away and she smiled beatifically at him.

“It seems you’ve already taken your pleasure, sir,” she couldn’t help the verbal dig as she took his arm.

"Oh, I plan to make it up plenty to you later..."

Clint blinked at her half-heartedly, feeling slightly at unease about this expression of hers. Well, that would mean payback, definitely. Enough of a threat to behave now, to open the car door for Natasha, still the perfect gentlemen, and close it once she was comfortable.

"Sorry, furball. Maybe tomorrow."

He shortly waved at Liho who still seemed to wait for her chance to sneak into the house and took his own seat, grinning at Natasha slightly nervously.

"So, on a scale from a walk by the beach to meat, right now, or I'll cut you, how hungry are you?"

Natasha could sense Clint’s unease but did nothing to abate it. Let him mull it over and suspect her every move. Might be she wouldn’t have to do anything to exact revenge, he might just do it all himself.

Settling into the passenger seat of the car, she adjusted the skirt of her dress so the slits showed just enough leg to be provocative but not enough to appear intentional. Smiling over at Clint when he joined her in the car, she tapped her lips as she considered the question.

“I would say somewhere around a leisurely stroll, but if you try to detain me I may have to hurt you,” she replied.

"Got it. No making out on the rocks", Clint answered with a short grin and a mock-salute and hurried to get the car started then, before she could try to strangle him.

Their usual parking spot was a bit far from where he had in mind for eating, so once they were down the serpentine, he took the road along the beach to find them a place somewhat closer.

In a way this street was even more dangerous than maneuvering between a steep abyss and crazy-ass bus drivers. Traffic rules in Italy existed mostly in the books. None of the young people on their scooters crowding the street wore a helmet. Traffic lights served more as a polite recommendation. And from time to time you had to slow down or take a detour to not ram a donkey.

Not much time to concentrate on the glimpse of Natasha's firm, perfectly shaped legs under that sinful dress, and after her subtle warning he rather kept his hands to himself too. But once they were parked, he couldn't help but lean over to her to capture her lips in another kiss, gentle this time, nearly chaste.

"Oh, and just in case I didn't make that clear... You look stunning tonight."

The drive was interesting, and by the time they got stuck behind a donkey for a few extra metres Natasha was smiling without even knowing it. She had lived in a lot of different cities and each one had their quirks, and it was these quirks that she always loved. Tourists went to New York City to see the Empire State Building and Central Park, but it was the smaller neighbourhoods and the tiny hole-in-the-wall shops that she loved.

By the time they reached their destination she was feeling strangely serene, and when Clint kissed her she smiled against his lips and didn’t try to deepen it.

“Thank you,” she replied. “And you look very handsome in black, especially with that tan.”

"I'm trying."

Not at his very best with compliments, as usual, Clint just smiled and hurried to get outside before his cheeks could show a far more embarrassing color.

On an evening that was supposed to be lady's night, of course he was gentleman enough to open the car door for Natasha, still with that small admiring smile on his lips when he watched her get out. Some evenings it could still completely undo him, how breathtaking she was, so much more than every other woman, with the simplest means like a nice dress and her hair hair falling down on her shoulders. Dry from the air by now, it was curlier than usual. He couldn't resist nuzzle his face against it for just a second when he closed the car door.

But he had promised her to not delay their way to the restaurant, so he didn't try to go for another hug or kiss. He just took her hand to lead her down the street, into the direction of that certain restaurant. He, knowing where he had to look, could spot it already in the distance, though very small, all white and neat at the very beginning of that rocky arm that was Naxos.

But on the little way they had to go there, there was still all kind of nice things to find and recognize.

"I might have been drinking in all of these at last once", he admitted with a rueful grin when the passed the third pub, crammed between the run-down living houses. No big change here, maybe a bigger TV for football matches and one or two ice cream flavors for the tourists more. But these always stayed the same, a late night hangout for lonely guys like him who just needed to get wasted.

The places on the beach side were much nicer, this was where the families used to party. There were slot machines, kid playgrounds and table tennis wherever you looked. Down by the beach itself, quiet music from one of the other party could be heard.

"Some guy used to challenge me in table tennis for a couple of beer everytime I came ashore", he remembered when he spotted a young couple doing just that, very passionately trying to win the upper hand in the game. "When he finally found out he didn't stand a chance, we changed the match to tabletop soccer, and my fate was sealed. Can't beat an Italian in soccer, let me tell you."

Natasha actually waited until Clint rounded the car and opened the door for her before getting out. If he wanted to play the romantic she wouldn’t ruin his fun, and sometimes it was kind of nice to go the traditional route, especially when he ended up looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

Holding his hand comfortably, they walked unhurriedly, taking in the sights around them and enjoying the warm evening air. When he started to tell his stories she smiled and listened intently, always happy to hear more tales of his life. “Might?” she teased with a raised eyebrow but otherwise stayed silent.

The street was a lively one, that was for sure, with hotspots and activities for all ages. It was nothing Natasha had expected considering how rustic it was near their little house, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. She could picture Clint here, playing games with the other men, drinking and laughing the night away. Did he ever leave here with women? Take them back to the house, or maybe to his boat? Were there many? Or maybe a special one that waited for him? She didn’t think these thoughts with jealousy but curiosity, the desire to know all she could about him. There was no point in being jealous of the past, and no reason to be jealous now. Clint was far too crazy about her for any other woman to be a threat.

“I do hope you alternated after that,” she replied. “Or at least agreed to buy each other the drinks.”

"Kind of. Tried to teach the other a few things. You know me, always eager to learn something new with my hands."

That slightly embarrassed smile on Clint's lips deepened, for a moment his eyes were glued to a free table soccer table, but he didn't make a move to hold. He was taking Natasha very seriously when she threatened him, no matter how playfully... Maybe on the way back. Or any other day. They would be here for a while still, after all.

The last, small part of the way they could actually take on the beach itself, right through a party that wasn't private or belonged only to club guests. And at least it was not completely out of their age league either. They could take off their shoes and walk right through the soft, slightly cool sand to the little house on a small white platform that was their destination.

There was some Samba rhythm playing when they strolled along on the side of the dancing people, and Clint couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Natasha playfully. It had been some time since last they had danced.

"I know, you said no delays..."

For a moment Natasha thought he was back to their naughty teasing again, but seeing that look on his face and how he gazed wistfully at the tables made her forget all about their earlier games. She was about to suggest he take a turn when he tugged her gently away. Later, then, whether today or tomorrow, she would make sure he got back here to play.

Falling into step beside him again, she paused only briefly to remove her shoes before setting foot on the sand. Letting them dangle from the fingers of her free hand she glanced around at the people who were dancing and laughing and seemingly carefree.

Catching Clint’s eye when he spoke she could not mistake the twinkle there and soon found herself grinning in return. “I did,” she replied, “but I suppose one dance won’t leave me completely ravenous...” Dancing wasn’t something they got to do often, and it was hard to refuse the opportunity.

"We're nearly there anyway. So if I manage to exhaust you, at least we'll get our food soon."

Clint showed a perfect little bow and took Natasha's hand again, holding it just a little higher when he lead her closer to the dancing crowd as if they were at some high class ball and about to do the opening dance. Nothing that formal but though this was something they seldom trained and even more seldom had had to practice in the past, he didn't say no to a hot Latin rhythm if Natasha was the partner...

The current song was just ending and coming up was some old Madonna tune back from the days when Madonna had actually made music. A pretty slow samba, perfect for two people who might be a little out of training. Though temptation was big, Clint kept the necessary small distance between them when he took Natasha in his arms and kept his hand on her waistline instead of below like the gentleman he was. But the mischievous grin on his lips let her know that he wasn't planning to make it too chaste anyway.

After a few basic steps he got more courageous with what he remembered about this rhythm and led her into a few faster sequences to warm them up. As soon as they had enough space and she was with her back to him for the first time, he lifted her up in the air for just a quick swirl - her dress wasn't exactly best for such adventures - and sat her back down safe and secure and a lot closer to him than before. With their bodies in a close embrace and his arms folded in front of her belly now, he reduced their movement mostly to their hips for a few beats, burying his face into the crook of her neck to tell her again how lovely she looked right now. That was the deal about dancing, really, the excuse for such closeness, moving together to some hot rhythm and enjoying Natasha's lithe, deadly movement in such a harmless, erotic motion for once.

“Just don’t exhaust me too much or you might throw a wrinkle into our later plans,” she replied with a grin. She actually felt really good, much better than she had probably since they’d arrived. At the moment she felt like she could go all night, though she would probably pay for it tomorrow. Good thing she wasn’t one for planning that far ahead.

Dropping her shoes onto the sand, Natasha let Clint lead her in the dance, and they fell into rhythm easily. The steps were easy at first, and carried out rather professionally, but eventually they loosened up and started improvising. A light laugh escaped her lips when Clint picked her up, and she was not at all surprised when he set her down a lot closer than before, his arms snaking around her and holding her flush against him. With one hand curled around the back of his neck and her other covering his arm on her stomach, she moved her hips with his, closing her eyes and letting the music and their movements sweep her away.

Why did they not dance more often? Maybe this was something else, like the cooking, that they should find time to do. Or maybe it was better because it happened so seldom. Either way, she was definitely enjoying herself. “Those are some smooth moves, Barton. I may have to hire you for some private lessons,” she said, her smile evident in her voice.

"I'm at your service full-time, M'lady", Clint murmured against her skin, returning the smile he knew she'd feel.

As much as he would have loved to keep her close like that, with her sweet smell in his nose and her warmth all over his body, feeling her every step... Natasha pressing her perfect ass against him, that was a little too dangerous for his hormones.

Reaching for her hand again, he turned her around and went back to that small distance, mostly to let his dick know that now was definitely not the time. For a few seconds, holding both her hands between them, he just enjoyed watching Natasha use these deadly legs of hers, the extraordinary grace she put into her every move. Then he pulled her close for something that wasn't a kiss, not quite yet, more a grin against her lips, without really touching them.

"Don't think you need much teaching, though... You're breathtaking."

After making that clear, he softly pushed her out of his dancing space to do a few steps separately, in a parallel formation that wasn't completely clean if someone insisted on looking, but he didn't really care. With half an ear he noted that many people were not only watching them but there were a few admiring whistles. Here and there one of the girls threw him a very interested glance while some guys couldn't take their eyes off Natasha. Flattering but unwelcome.

He was quick to lead Natasha close again, that playful grin on his lips growing even wider when he wrapped his arm around her a little tighter, more secure than before.

"Don't castrate me, beautiful... Just trying something."

With the next beat, he pushed against her hand without taking his other arm off her, challenging her to lean back, and then let her body down nearly to the floor. Of course only to pull her back up immediately, a lot closer again this time, and all without even getting sand in her hair.

Natasha paid no heed to the attention they were getting; in fact she barely even noticed it. She only had eyes for Clint.

For so many months he had been little more than a shell of his former self and she had started to fear that Loki had taken a part of him that they would never get back. He hid himself away, wallowed in guilt and shut her out for so long, but this... she could barely contain the swell of emotion she was feeling seeing him like this.

He looked completely and utterly free.

She knew it wouldn’t last, that there was more darkness lurking within him, but he had started opening up to her, and had more good moments than before, but that playful grin and devil may care attitude was Clint, her Clint, through and through.

She let him lead, let him pull her close and push her away, never once faltering. His words caused her to raise an eyebrow, wondering just what he had in mind, but he didn’t keep her waiting. Trusting to his strong hold to keep her from falling she leaned back and couldn’t help but let out a laugh when he pulled her upright almost instantly again to the approval of the crowd. Snapping her head up, her hair flying wildly around her face, her eyes twinkled with her smile. “You’re just lucky you didn’t drop me. I would hate to ruin this dress.”

"As if I'd ever drop you."

Clint murmured it close to her lips again while he lead them in a few last, much calmer steps to end their little performance. This time he didn't hesitate to kiss her, slow and sweet and longing, and when they parted he was breathing faster for more reasons than that little workout.

"We definitely need to do this more often."

He gave her another short kiss on her cheek when the last tones of the current song faded and wrapped his arm around her waist to lead her back to the sidewalk. His cheeks were a little red, more from the attention they got than the dance, but that stupid grin was still on his face.

"Thanks for the pleasure, Mylady."

She knew he never would. The only time he’d ever let her fall was if he was there to catch her.

Despite the audience Natasha gave herself willingly to that kiss; what more perfect way to end the dance? Looking up to meet his eyes when they parted, she could see everything she was feeling mirrored back at her, could feel his heart hammering in his chest as quickly as her own.

“I think I can agree to that,” she replied before the mood reluctantly passed. Collecting her shoes she didn’t bother to put them back on, even when they reached the sidewalk. She could do so when they reached the restaurant, and by then all the sand should be gone from the soles of her feet.

“The pleasure was not entirely yours, believe me,” she said.

Clint pressed her a little closer to him instead of an answer and caressed her arm and shoulder with softly circling fingertips while they walked, leaving the cheerful scene behind. Definitely had been fun and it demanded for a repeat performance, but by now he felt a little hungry too. It had been too long since the last time a really good swordfish steak had been on his plate.

When they reached the stairs up to the small building which was partly hovering straight over the water, he leaned down to put his sneakers back on. With that boyish grin spreading on his lips again, he turned to Natasha, still kneeling, and held his hand out to her.

"Need help with these shoes, Mylady?"

Of course she was perfectly capable of doing this herself, but sometimes you just really wanted to pamper your girl a bit.

Between the swimming earlier and the dancing now Natasha had definitely worked up an appetite, so by the time they reached the restaurant she was more than ready to eat. While Clint quickly slipped his feet back into his sneakers, Natasha leaned against the wall and took her time brushing the sand off of her feet and from between her toes.

When Clint reached for her hand while on bended knee in front of her she felt a momentary feeling of panic. He had joked about marriage a few times while they were here, and she had teased back about his method of proposing. Had he been more serious than she had thought? Was this...”

Before she could finish that thought he spoke and she was surprised to find that among her relief there was a hint of disappointment. It was silly, they weren’t the marrying kind, and even if they were she couldn’t imagine such a traditional proposal from Clint.

Shaking it off, she handed him the shoes and leaned back against the wall again to steady herself while he put them on. “My very own Prince Charming,” she said, brushing her fingers lightly through his hair. Who would have ever thought that she could have anything even resembling a fairytale?

"Not pretty enough for a Disney prince, I'm afraid."

Clint quickly lowered his head before the lights shining down from the restaurant could reveal his blush. Natasha's slightly confused and uneasy expression just a second ago, had made him worry that she was getting sick of his clowning around after all, so it was a relief to have her joking back instead.

Since he had a feeling, that wasn't just his stomach growling, he tried not to keep them up with more fooling around but fitted the shoes back on Natasha's feet quickly enough, closing the thin straps with sure fingers. Only before he got up, he gave her lower leg a soft, admiring caress through that slit in her dress.

"Come on. I think we deserve our feast tonight."

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Natasha Romanoff | The Black Widow

September 2020

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