The exaggerated laughter of upper-class white men and their significantly-younger trophy wives floated through the air over the lighthearted classical music the string quartet had been playing dutifully all night. Clearly everyone else here was having a great time, or at least they were better at faking it than Natasha was. Another gala at another ballroom venue in another place where their accents didn't blend in. It got old quickly. However, this was where the target was, so this was where they were.
Clint had found higher ground and was making his rounds on the upper floor, looking out over the ballroom below to keep an eye out for their target, a Mr. Dale Calvin, and let Natasha know when he was nearby. He was currently whining over the comms line about how uncomfortable his tuxedo pants were.
"Seriously Nat, it feels like these pants are cutting me in half right across the waist."
Natasha rolled her eyes from her position leaning against the bar.
"Until you've squeezed yourself into a skintight leather cat suit more than twice in a week and worn it for several hours with a smile on your face, I really don't want to hear your whining," she murmured in response over the brim of her champagne flute. Although, it was true that she couldn't complain about much tonight. The long dress that she'd let Maria choose for her fit her perfectly as well as camouflaging her thigh holster nicely, and the shimmering pale gold silk contrasted nicely against her flaming red curls that had been pinned up nicely to stay out of her eyes.
Clint grumbled something back to her but she couldn't answer. Instead she was forced to smile politely at the young businessman who had finally worked up the nerve to cross the room and talk to her after staring at her for nearly twenty minutes. This was undoubtedly the worst part of these intel-gathering missions: being polite to every one of the sleazy men who decided to grace her with their presence throughout the night.
"Tell him to hit the fuckin' road," Clint said into her earpiece in a voice that conveyed exactly what he thought of this guy.
Natasha simply maintained her polite smile and let the man shake her hand as he introduced himself as Ryan Miller. She responded with a curt, "Elizabeth James".
Clint snorted softly in her ear as he let out a low chuckle.
"That was about as subtle as a nuclear bomb, Nat. If he doesn't run for the hills just at that tone, he's a stronger man than I am."
Natasha did her best to ignore Clint as the man across from her immediately set to work trying to impress her with stories of his recent business trip somewhere in Europe. She smiled and nodded as politely as she could, not really listening to the guy whose name she'd already forgotten.
"Hey Nat? We got Calvin at your 4 o'clock and coming towards you," Clint suddenly piped up again, snapping her out of her thoughts. She stood up taller and set her eyes on Calvin who was indeed crossing the room to her.
"It was Ryan, right?" She interrupted the businessman with a sickeningly sweet smile to match her tone. He simply nodded back, smiling arrogantly. "Maybe next time remember to lose your wedding ring before trying to hit on a stranger at a party." She said with a quick wink before turning to go, timing the move perfectly so that she would bump into Dale Calvin himself as he made his way through the room.
"Oh! I am so sorry!" She plastered a perfect mix of embarrassment, horror, and shame onto her face as she looked at his suit jacket where the majority of her champagne had ended up in the collision. "I am such a klutz!"
"How do you manage to make even that look elegant?" Clint grumbled over the radios. "Honestly, Nat it's not fair."
Calvin looked pissed at first, but his face quickly changed into reassurance once he saw the beautiful woman in front of him.
"Don't worry about it. I should watch where I'm going." He said kindly, resting a hand on her shoulder gently.
"How can I make it up to you?" She looked up at him, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, but looking somewhat comforted by his reaction.
"Tell you what, how about you have a drink with me at the bar and we'll call it even?" He was charming, Nat had to give him that.
She nodded a little and took the arm he offered her as he led her over to the bar across the room. He pulled out a seat for her before pulling off his soiled suit jacket and setting it in the seat beside him.
"I'm sorry I messed up your jacket. If it doesn't come out I'd like to pay for you to buy a new one," she offered politely.
He waved her offer away with a flick of his wrist. "I was looking for an excuse to get rid of it anyways. It's old. Besides, I can afford to buy myself a new one." He smirked a little as he slid her a new flute of champagne and took a sip of his scotch.
Ah. There it was. The arrogance she'd been looking for. All she had to do was appeal to his need to brag about himself and she would get all the information they needed.
"Oh? What is it that you do?" She asked, raising an eyebrow before she took a slow drink.
He sat back in his seat a bit and actually straightened his bowtie before answering. "I work for the government. It's possible you've heard my name before. Dale Calvin? I'm the head of the defense department here in London."
She looked duly impressed at him answer. "Wow. Sounds like an important job. You've got a lot of people to speak for. You must be under so much stress all the time," she said in a sympathetic voice, leaning forward slightly and resting a gentle hand on his forearm.
God, Clint loved his job. He loved that he got to watch Natasha break these guys down with just her expressions, tone, and a few well thought-out touches. He could see Calvin practically foaming at the mouth and new it wouldn't be much longer before they were out of here.
"Well it's certainly not easy, but somebody has to do it," he said nonchalantly, placing his hand over Natasha's on his arm. "Tell me a little about yourself. I don't even know your name. However I know you're not from around here. Your accent gives that away."
Nat was a little thrown off that he even bothered to ask about her. They hadn't predicted that. Of course she'd planned for it like she did for every possible situation, but she hesitated out of surprise. She quickly played it off as just being flustered and brought a quick blush to her cheeks without much work.
"Me? Oh, I'm no one important. My name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth James. And you're right. I'm not from around here. I'm from Canada. Toronto, to be exact." She smiled softly at him.
Clint cringed a little at her hesitation and held his breath, waiting for Calvin to respond to her. He blew out the breath when Calvin didn't even blink.
"Canada? That's interesting. One of the few countries I've never been to. I travel all over the world for my work, but never Canada. I guess that's probably because they don't have much of a military. They're pretty far down on our list of possible threats." He seemed all puffed up over the importance of his job and Natasha relaxed again, glad that they were back on track.
"What's the most interesting place you've ever traveled?" she asked, looking up at him intently as she sipped on her champagne. Her job was to make him think he was the most important man in the world to her, and she was great at it.
He thought for a moment before answering, "I've been to many exotic places, for business and pleasure, but I've got to say the most interesting place I ever visited was Reykjavík, Iceland. I know it's not exactly an exotic place, but it was very interesting. It's really a beautiful city."
She raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the answer. Even she had never been to Iceland. "That's very cool. I hope I get a chance to travel the world at some point in my life," she said wistfully.
He raked his eyes over her slowly. She could practically feel them on her, but she maintained her composure carefully as he started at her flaming curls and traveled down the elegant slope of her neck to the V-neck of the dress and the modest amount of cleavage Maria had insisted she showcase. His eyes hit the waist of her dress and dropped to the thigh-high slit (on the side without the knife holster of course) in the skirt. She was suddenly very grateful for Clint in her ear as he spoke up.
"You can't really blame him, right? I mean you really do look great. Just think about how hard you're going to get to hit him later." Clint was certainly thinking about it. He didn't like the creep's eyes on Natasha, let alone his hands touching her.
Her smile immediately returned and she managed to turn it into a sultry smirk just as he brought his eyes back up to lock on her sparkling green ones.
"What do you say we step outside onto the balcony?" he said lowly, leaning closer to her. "It's a beautiful night and the stars are pretty visible."
She simply nodded slightly with a small smile and stood up from her seat. The golden silk of her dress shimmered as it moved around her legs, reflecting the low light in the room while they walked together out onto the balcony. It really was a beautiful night, but that didn't stop Natasha from faking a small shiver so Calvin would put his arm around her shoulders and pull her close to him. She relaxed against his side and smiled up at him. "Thank you," she murmured softly.
He smiled arrogantly down at her. "Well I can't let a lady go cold, can I? What kind of gentleman would I be?"
Clint snorted derisively over the radio. "The kind of 'gentleman' that's doing an illegal weapons deal with the enemy," he grumbled. He knew they didn't have the proof yet, but the second they did, Strike Team Delta was out of there and on their way back to the States.
She let out an airy giggle. "I appreciate it. It's chillier out here than I thought it would be," she said, cozying up to his side even more as they looked out over the city, all lit up for the night.
"I guess my traveling has given me a higher tolerance for cold," he shrugged a little.
"Oh? What kind of colder places have you been?" she asked nonchalantly, looking up at him.
"I spend time all over. I've been to Alaska, the Netherlands, and Russia. I even spent a couple days in Antarctica once," he bragged carelessly.
"I'd like to see Russia someday. There's so much history there…" she hoped she wasn't pushing too hard.
"Yeah?" he looked down at her with an eyebrow raised, a small smirk on his face. "Well maybe I ought to take you with me next week. You could keep me warm. Plus these business meetings get so tiresome without someone to spend my free time with."
Bingo. He'd completely sold himself out. That was what they needed. Clint let out a quiet cheer.
"Alright Nat. We got it. I'm going to give you your getaway call now. You can get away from this sleaze ball and then we're home free." He grinned and pulled out his phone, hitting her number on speed dial.
Natasha's phone immediately started to vibrate in her clutch and Calvin looked at her.
"Do you need to get that?" He started to pull away, but she immediately shook her head.
"No. It can wait. I want to hear more about you." She said smoothly, reaching up silently and pushing a stray curl behind her ear, shutting off her comm unit as she did, effectively cutting off her connection to Clint.