Dubrovnik
Natasha moved slowly amidst the crowd, allowing them to bump and jostle her without fighting back. A few of them were locals, but the majority were tourists. She was supposed to be a tourist – a journalist taking a break, if anyone asked – but as another tour group hustled past her she decided she looked very un-touristy indeed.
"You look fine," Clint told her when she complained over comms. "Maybe you could look a little more overwhelmed, though."
She scowled as another shoulder shoved her sideways. "Why don't you come down from your perch and try it yourself?" she hissed into the phone.
Clint laughed. "But then I wouldn't get to see your fantastic expression!"
"What's overwhelming about Dubrovnik?" Natasha grumbled. She'd seen it before, and while it did have beautiful spots, it looked a lot like every other pre-twentieth century city.
"The people?"
He was smirking, Natasha just knew it. "I don't have to look overwhelmed right this second," she countered. "I'm on the phone."
"So show me the sights," he said. "You know: the rooftops, the water, the mark…"
"You can see him?" she asked, taking her phone away and pretending to do just that.
"He's by the old fishing boat, can't read the name. There's someone else with him, I've already asked Hill to find a visual match." There was a pause as she flicked her eyes to find the boat he meant. "You know, I think it would be kinda nice to just take a boat out somewhere one day."
Telling herself it was part of her role, Natasha let slip a smile. "You? The hawk? In the middle of the ocean?"
"What, and you wouldn't?"
"Depends who was on that boat."
"Not Stark, if that's what you're worried about."
She rolled her eyes. "You know he'll want in on such a plan. Billionaire playboy philanthropists love boat parties, I'm sure."
"So we don't tell him," was the nonchalant response, one that made her raise her eyebrows.
"In case you can't see, I'm raising my eyebrows."
"I can see perfectly well, thank you!"
"Then you should be able to see how ridiculous I think you're being!"
"As well as how the idea still appeals to you." That got her tongue – he was right… sort of. It certainly sounded entertaining; the idea of her and Clint on a boat in the middle of nowhere? There were countless things that could happen… "Hey, look at that – your cheeks are nearly the same colour as your hair."
Natasha hastily turned her back to where she thought he was perched. "Shut up, Hawkeye, and let me do my job!" she hissed.
"Alright Nat," he chuckled, and she slipped her phone away. "Mark's on the move: heading west, eleven o'clock."
Just like that, he was back to business – and so was she. Pulling out a pair of sunglasses, the Black Widow set off after her prey, the idea of a boat trip reluctantly pushed to the back of her mind.