A/N: Don't own anything. Prompts came off tumblr. This is a five times thing, but I might make more than five. Yay!
Natasha Romanoff rushed around the room in a hurry, hands flying around herself, fixing her thick mane of fiery red curls, pinning on sparkling and dangly pearl earrings from her earlobes. She stood in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection of a strong looking woman dressed in a professional black jacket and matching pants.
Clint Barton entered through the door way and flopped down on her bed carelessly, bringing his hands up to cup behind his head. He examined the back of her outfit, and the redhead whirled around and glared.
"Hey, Nat," he greeted with a nod and a smile. He gestured with his eyebrows about her outfit. "Hot date?"
"Shut up, Clint," she muttered under her breath, then narrowed her jade green eyes at Clint's gray T shirt and dull, blah looking jeans. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Why the hell are you dressed like that? We've got a mission."
"Yeah, about that," the archer's voice trailed off awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck self consciously. "I guess I won't be going with you on this mission. Sorry, Nat." He shrugged like it was no big deal, and it wasn't, since there were going to be plenty of missions afterward, but Natasha still crossed her arms and pinned a curious yet annoyed look on the man on her bed.
"And who is going to be my partner?" she questioned.
"Who else? Your current partner." At the red haired woman's blank look present on her features, Clint sighed, looked away for a moment in brotherly irritation and smiled at Natasha devilishly. "Steve," he reminded her and her eyes widened fractionally.
"Steve?" she croaked out and then shook her head to rid the cobwebs. She let out a fake disappointed, "Oh." Her best friend just shot her an Oh, really? look at her.
"Do not tell me you're not excited about this little change," he challenged with an eyebrow and Natasha held back to urge to punch him like she always did when he started teasing her. It was true that she had a huge crush on Steve, but having to play a super spy couple would have been easier with the archer, Clint since there wasn't any sexual tension that would force her to act weirdly.
"Well, only the people on the mission can change it and I certainly didn't-" Her eyes now shrunk into little slits in her face and the archer bashfully hid his face away. "You did not-"
"Okay, okay!" he exclaimed, waving his hands around in interruption while picking himself off the bed. "Before you totally murder me for backing out of the mission, I only did this because I have some personal business to take care of."
"And what would this 'personal business' be?" The redhead crossed her arms again over her neatly ironed jacket, mildly interested in what would divert the oh-so-focused Clint Barton away from a mission teeming with potential fun times.
"Aheh," he chuckled nervously. "A thing."
"Let me guess. A thing with blonde hair, curvy as a roller coaster-" Natasha's mouth was still open to answer, but Clint clapped a hand over her mouth, cheeks blushing with embarrassment and looking at her with tired blue eyes.
"Okay, yes, it is Bobbi," explained Clint about his girlfriend, "but I swear, this is important! She's taking me on a road trip . . . somewhere," he finished at her own eyebrow raise. "It's a surprise apparently."
"Wow, she's taking you on the road trip after only weeks of dating? She must be very interested in you." Natasha sauntered around the archer, trying to push down a small smile at the way her voice sounded. Clint, like she planned, caught on to her sly tone and flipped around.
"What do you mean? It's just a road trip."
"Oh, my dear Clint, this is far more than just a road trip," she explained, staring at herself nonchalantly in the mirror, pretending to flick away an invisible piece of lint. At Clint's urgent hand rotations reflected back in the mirror, her mouth broke out into a grin and laughed out loud. She turned back around and leaned against the dresser. "This is the road trip of a lifetime. She's got you alone, no one around to save you, cornered, so that she can ask about all the personal questions who've managed to avoid till now. You've got nowhere to run, Barton," she shrugged.
"There's always-"
Natasha cut him off. "The restroom? Come on, all women are aware of the restroom excuse."
"Unless I include her in the restroom excuse." He flashed a dirty smile.
"Sure, canoodle with her all you want in a bathroom stall. Eight or nine hours with her in a car will be good for your health. So good luck."
"Good luck to you," he returned at her with a playful wink. "I heard an hour of sex burns 360 calories. Get some exercise and make Cap a man, will you? It's a double win."
He fled the room before the redhead could even reach her gun.
A few days later, Natasha was in the same hurry as she flew in through the door of their lavish hotel suite up in Montreal, Canada, wearing a short sleeved black dress. Steve Rogers was standing near the window, wearing his own white button down shirt and tan pants, gazing out the glass with contemplative blue eyes and his jaw set in all its Captain America glory.
"Sorry I'm late," she called, carrying her large black folder in her arms and couldn't break her eyes away from his awesome jaw for some reason.
Steve spun around, the golden sunlight rays filtering through his matching blond hair. He had a grumpy frown on his face. "You took your time," he stated impatiently, marching over to the table where she had sat down at.
"Had to meet the clients," she snapped back. "We are playing spy, after all."
"I told you once and I'll tell you again," he started but she finished the sentence along with him, "I'm more of a soldier than a spy."
They stopped, glanced at each other and laughed. They loved how they always sounded so perfect with their voices in sync. The red haired woman pried open her silver laptop and proceeded typing. Steve sat at his own laptop and peered at it curiously. He was still trying to get used to modern technology, but it wasn't as big a deal as it was a year ago.
"I finally got through the firewall," he declared, still looking at the screen and typing hastily on the keyboard while managing to catch glimpses of the time on his silver Rolex watch. Natasha continued to file papers together as she slid the other laptop over to him.
"There's no hurry as long as we don't forget any details," she replied, subtly applying stress on the last few words but the Captain didn't seem to notice.
"Good thing we haven't," he replied absently.
Steve checked his watch once more and Natasha began to gather up her files. After a few minutes, Steve noticed her silence and stopped leaning down on the table, rising up to full height.
"Okay. Obviously I've done something wrong," he finally admitted, yet he didn't know what.
"You forgot my birthday," was all the red haired woman said before strutting towards the door.
The blond man raised a quizzical eyebrow. "It's your birthday?" he repeated meekly.
Her fiery red curls fanned out in an arc when she furiously threw a retort over her shoulder. "It's my cover's birthday, you idiot!" she raged and rolled her eyes. Then she stormed out, leaving a confused Steve inside the room.
"Wait, how was I supposed to know that?!" he called after her innocently. "You're mad at me for forgetting your fake birthday?! But that wasn't even in the file! Nat! Natasha!"
Of course they smoothed out the situation and now they were sitting in a booth, Natasha across from Steve, both polishing off the remains of a mini feast. His arms were laid out across the table horizontally as he leaned in and she was resting her head on her balled up hand cupped around a glass full of ice cold water, soothing her hot forehead. From a distance and unknowing bystanders, they looked like two people on a sort of date. But really, it was just undercover.
"Captain, Agent Romanoff," Nick Fury's voice chirped through the earpieces tucked deep into their earbuds. The redhead sighed heavily in boredom and Steve pulled at his collar uncomfortably. "Do you have visual on the target?"
"Visual acquired. Target confirmed," repeated Natasha, looking up at the ceiling with jaded blue green eyes and trying to suppress a groan.
"Can't you two be a little more convincing?" Fury told them and Steve blushed. It was true that they didn't look like they were on a date at all now since the redhead in front of him was too silent and having a weary face and trying to look anywhere but at him. "Nobody would actually believe you're on a date."
Even Natasha agreed.
"Yeah, be more convincing," exclaimed Tony Stark, probably leaning into the sending device eagerly, having been waiting to make fun of this reluctant mission. He was lucky he was at the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters because Natasha would have thrown a knife at him in person. "We all really want to see that."
"He's got a point, Nat," whispered Steve with a small smile and the red haired spy couldn't tell if it was fake to be part of the act. She chuckled softly.
"Aren't you the desperate one?" She reached a hand forward, walked her fingers on top of the smooth wooden surface of the table and started to stroke Steve's strong chin, enjoying the feeling of his skin brushing hers. This was about how much action they got normally, the brushing of fingers when reaching for something, the knee bumps under the table, the occasional hand grab when one of them was worried or nervous.
"Wow," ahed the dark haired billionaire through the commlink in a wholly unimpressed tone. "With all that red hot passion, it's a wonder you two can stay away from each other." There was an implied eye roll of most likely all of the other Avengers in the room.
"Jealous, Stark?" challenged the redhead coyly.
"You wish, Romanoff."
He did have a point though. They needed to pick up the pace. Natasha rubbed her foot against his ankle and giggled. "Laugh with me," she whispered through her girlish chortles. Steve easily grinned and leaned back, shaking with laughter. She slanted her body forward and pressed her lips to Steve's ear. "Work with me. Come on."
They both subsequently rose up from the table, the Captain throwing down the bill and a small tip to the waiter, who had offered them champagne since he assumed they were engaged due to the ring of Natasha's finger. That merchandise was only part of the act anyway.
"All right," Fury said again. "Now all you have to do is place the tracking device on the target's suitcase and your mission is complete. We'll send someone to retrieve you." The two others slunk their bodies' tensions in relief and Steve laid back against the wall, his hands in his pockets.
"Shh!" Natasha commanded after a minute. "He's coming!" She tossed something to Steve and started to walk after a figure. Steve looked down and saw it was the tracking device. Great. Why did he always get the hard jobs?
They strolled into their luxurious apartment building that they seemingly had a room in and Natasha was still chasing after the man, their target. They hopped into the elevator along with him. The man had a mustache and was wearing a stylish pinstriped suit. The Captain only had the slightest interest in why they needed the tracking device on him, but it vanished when the elevator's door slid open with a chime.
"Isn't he going to stay in his room?" Steve murmured in Natasha's ear and she pretended to be interested in fixing her denim jacket.
"Of course not," she replied. "He's obviously having an affair and just had dinner with his wife. Now he needs to meet his mistress."
Steve just gulped, obviously queasy about the situation. She slapped his arm playfully with a winning smile. "No worries. You're Captain America. You can do this!"
"Right." The man was now leaving the apartment and heading for the elevator. Once the doors closed, Steve zoomed across the hall and picked the lock immediately. Once it clicked, the blond man quickly tucked the blinking device underneath the strap of the suitcase and flashed a thumbs up sign at Natasha standing in the doorway. She smiled and they even high fived at their victory.
Until the elevator door chimed again.
Steve was an inch from closing the door and both of their eyes widened in alarm. "What do we do?" Steve whispered urgently and that was when Natasha threw her arms around Steve's strong and assuring body and crushed her lips to his. The last time they had kissed, it had been quick, gentle and chaste and sweet, but there was no mercy here. It was all passion and brighter and hotter than fire whiskey. Steve had closed the door with a bang, so when she practically attacked him, their collision masked the closing of the supposedly locked door. Natasha kissed him harder and harder, never wanting to stop. Her hands clawed all over Steve possessively, feeling the smoothness of his iron clad muscles. Steve, in return, kissed her back even more passionately, hands stroking her back, curving over her hips and then sliding upwards to curl his fingers in the warm sanctuary of Natasha's fiery curls, clasping it there firmly with the other arm wrapped around her tiny waist. He had definitely gotten way better at this.
This was definitely not part of the mission. Totally not necessary, yet they just wanted to. And they kept on going and going, melting away from reality in their own little lust and love crazed world.
Their tongues tangling together and lips attacking each other just as wildly as the other one, they were now a making out couple, a mass of hot and tangled limbs when a clearing of a throat was heard behind them.
The two people jumped apart and away from each other like a more powerful shock of electricity other than the explosive chemistry between them had electrocuted them. Natasha wheeled around in shock and shoved down an uncharacteristic blush color rising to her cheeks.
"Um, I was sent to get you . . ." Bruce Banner's voice trailed off, obviously having seen, experienced and full out interrupted their make out. Steve was attempted to hide himself from view and Natasha just stared coolly at the Hulk. Banner gulped and then pointed to the corner. "Uh, just what the hell were you two doing?"
"It was part of the mission," snapped the red haired woman, wondering if she could reach her gun in time to shoot Banner out cold.
"Riiight," Banner extended the word, still not believing them. "Making out was totally part of the mission."
"It was an accident," claimed Steve, trying to help out, but the woman in front of him with her arms folded across her chest spun her head around and pinned a furious emerald glower at him, shutting his mouth completely.
"Oh yeah. What, did your mouths accidentally fall on top of each other or something?" Banner may have been anti social and so lacking a personal life, but even he wasn't entirely dumb and oblivious to what was going on around him in others' romantic needs and wants.
Steve narrowed his eyes at Banner's so not helpful grin. "I don't see your point."
"There was tongue, Rogers," Banner grinned even wider, making the golden haired man redden.
"He's making fun of us, Cap, even though our cover would have been totally blown if we didn't, um . . ." Natasha was suddenly too embarrassed to even say what they had been doing out loud, wondering if the other Avengers were listening right now. They were, however, and the scientist staring at them mock scoldingly was hearing all the raucous laughter through his earpiece, even Tony shouting for Banner to take a snapshot of this awkward moment.
"Kiss," Steve finished with another innocent face, wanting to help out and she glared at him again for even mentioning the cursed word.
The other man wanted to make this easier and gestured towards the elevator. With a tight and contrite smile, he said, "Uh, shall we?"
"Mmm hmm," Natasha rolled her eyes and stalked into the elevator with a stormy attitude. The two other men were cautious as they crept in as well. Once they got to Stark Tower, Steve slowed his pace to walk in step with Natasha.
"Sorry for-"
"Don't, Cap. It was wrong of me."
"Wrong?"
Natasha turned with wide eyes. "Unless you liked it."
"Of course I liked it. I just thought you would never-"
"Well, yeah! I mean, it was an emergency."
"Uh huh." A pause and the golden haired then asked, "Would you like to do it again?"
"Shut up, Cap," she muttered, rolling her eyes and sauntering away, but hiding a tiny smile. And all Steve could do was smirk just a little himself.
No matter what, they'd always want to be with each other, and nothing would stop that. But that still didn't make the interruption any less annoying, though, a thought that made Steve roll his eyes at himself.