Clint paced around the living room aimlessly, eyes glued to his watch. He was dressed and set to walk out the door, Natasha clearly was not.
Stark was throwing a benefit with a black tie dress code and every Avenger had to be there. It was a good cause, plus they could all use a night to unwind and get there mind off mission reports and global threats.
The thing started in eight minutes, more or less. Not that Clint was counting or anything. They were already late and he was growing imminently impatient.
Clint made his way back to the bedroom of their apartment only to find it, along with the bathroom empty. Walking out to find the door to the closet shut tight.
"Nat? C'mon, babe, we're already late." He said with a light knock.
She muttered something, dismissing him, that only came out muffled by the door,
Clint just rolled his eyes, turned the doorknob, and let himself into the walk-in closet.
He found her, very un-Natasha like, sitting on the small ottoman in the middle of the closet. She was naked save for a lacy bra and panties with a garter belt, that held up a single thigh high stocking on her left leg. Her makeup was already immaculate and her long red locks artfully curled down her shoulders.
Strewn all over the floor and pooled at her feet was an array of discarded clothing. Mostly dresses, each a different style, cut, or color and each thrown for a different reason. Broken zipper, wrong color, too this or too that, the list went on. Clint just let out a huff of laughter and shook his head at her.
"What?" She retorted, "I have nothing to wear."
"Yeah right," he snickered at her. "There's gotta be something in here," he said walking away from the doorway and into the closet.
Clint turned to the rack that housed her wide array of nicer dresses, which was already rifled through, half of them having ended up on the floor. He sorted through her selection for a few moments until he found one.
It was a forgotten dress, still wrapped in plastic from a dry cleaner that was shoved in the furthest corner of their closet. Nat had only worn it once, on a mission some few years ago in Venice. They were posing as a married couple in attempt to get intel on some mark selling bioweapon prototypes. She ended up keeping the dress that was bought for her specifically to wear to a gala they had to attend on that mission.
It was simple, but beautiful. Strapless, cut off right at the feet, and a deep plum color that Clint absolutely loved on her. It had a nude, metallic belt that brought in the waist and draped beautifully the rest of the way down.
Clint pulled it off the rack and held it up, giving it a pointed look.
Her eyes went just a bit wide at the sight of it, "I forgot I even had that." She stood up and closed the distance between them.
Nat let him maneuver her around as he eased the one stocking of her shapely leg, unzipped the dress and hold it up as she stepped into it. He brought the dress up her figure and drew its zipper up a litter slower the necessary. She shivered a bit when he pressed a kiss to the back of her spine. Once the back was closed, he took the belt and slid it around her waist, bringing it in at the center, revealing her curves.
She looked breathtaking. The deep color of the dress was a sharp contrast against her creamy skin. Clint especially loved the way it perfectly encased her beautiful, curvy frame. Plus, it would be a nice distinction next to his fitted charcoal suit.
When he was finished dressing her, she nodded over to the top of the dresser in the corner of the room and he quickly picked up on what she wanted. He walked over and picked up the necklace that was sitting on top of the dresser and brought it back over to her. It was one he had gotten her, a simple gold chain with a small arrow in the center. He slid it around her neck and gently clasped it shut.
Natasha sucked in a breath when he pressed a kiss on her sensitive skin this time on the front of her shoulder. It was a faint, faded scar she had gotten many, many years ago from him when they first crossed paths. He had put an arrow in her shoulder, but he made up for it by bringing her to the life she had now, a second chance.
Lastly, he went over to the shelves, which held her ridiculous amount of shoes. (It was the one overly-girly stereotype she fell into) He picked out a pair of nude, glittering pumps that matched the belt perfectly. He turned and scooted her back onto the ottoman, kneeling and slipping both shoes onto her small feet, then helping her back up.
She walked over to the floor-length mirror in the other corner of the room and pinned back a piece of her hair that had come loose, smiling at her reflection, overly happy with his selections.
Nat made her way back over to Clint and brought him into an embrace, pressing her lips against his. "What would I do without you," she sighed against his chest.
Clint only squeezed her tighter, "All I know is you look gorgeous no matter what, baby." He then finally led her out the door, to the car that was waiting for them.
At the end of the nigh her complete ensemble ended up scattered on the floor, along with his suit in a trail the led to their bedroom.