A/N. Hello everyone! Here's a nice Clintasha oneshot for you all before I start with the sequel to my Steve/OC story. Hope you guys enjoy :D (This takes place during Christmas just cuz and is in its own universe, my OC Tania will NOT be in the fic, in fact it COULD be seen as Steve/Darcy though it doesn't specify, so view it as you wish ;) Enjoy! :D
Disclaimer - I do not own the Avengers, MARVEL does.
Property of Clint Barton
Lights were strung along the ceiling with delicacy and precision. Small white spheres of bright lights on strings that were the only sources of light in the room. One wall was a completely floor to ceiling window that overlooked a large part of New York City. Another one was… nonexistent. It acted as a giant doorway to the hallway of the tenth floor of Avengers Tower, where most of the team and a few others were lounging around and drinking and partying. There were several different accents of green and red to symbolize the Christmas season.
Lingering near the red tablecloth-covered buffet of fancy and expensive hors d'oeuvres (courtesy of one Tony Stark), stood Darcy Lewis and Steve Rogers, mingling with each a fancy glass of alcohol of some sort. They were conversing amicably and laughing, this having been the first time they had ever met.
It was a pretty formal event, so everyone was wearing suits or pretty dresses meant to be eye-catching. Dressed to the tee were Tony Stark and his fiancé Pepper Potts, standing together and talking with Jane Foster and her boyfriend Thor, son of Odin. Over in the corner, munching awkwardly on some shrimp, was Bruce Banner, speaking civilly with his girlfriend, Betty Ross.
But there were still people missing. Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff had been called on a mission last-minute on Christmas Eve and had yet to return. It was late, almost eleven at night, and the elephant in the room was making everyone anxious.
Thor fiddled with the cuffs of his jacket every few seconds, Jane twirled her hair nervously, Darcy bit her lip, Steve ran his hands through his hair, Pepper repeatedly checked her watch, Tony drummed his fingers on anything and everything around him, Bruce rocked side to side on his feet, and Betty became extremely silent, her eyes flitting to the door every now and then.
Time passed, and still they did not show. Finally, at eleven thirty on the dot, a loud crash alerted the attendants to someone slamming the door open. Having had enough anxiety and worry, everyone rushed over to the hallway to see who had entered.
Clint hobbled in first, still dressed in his uniform and covered in dust, dirt, and dried blood. He sort of dragged his left foot behind him as he "walked", but he otherwise looked unharmed save a few scratches or bruises here and there.
Natasha strode in after him, walking fine but apparently very, very sore. She too, looked dirty and exhausted. Her uniform was covered in so much dust that it looked grey instead of black and fluffy instead of leather.
"Well, nice of you to finally show up Legolas and-"
"Shut up Stark." Natasha cut him off, leveling him with a glare that could make the Earth quake. With an equally frightening look from Pepper, Tony smartly shut his mouth.
Natasha grabbed Clint's elbow and helped him into the high-ceilinged room the party goers had been in. Together, they sat down on a bench adjacent to the doorway and let out simultaneous sighs of relief.
"Are you two alright? Do you need medical attention?" Jane asked, wandering closer to the two SHIELD agents resting during a party. The Christmas carols kept playing in the background; its joyous tune contradictory to the tense atmosphere.
Clint shook his head in response to her question. "Nah, we're good. Just a minor concussion and a twisted ankle between the both of us – no big deal. Besides, not only do we hate hospitals, but we couldn't miss a Stark party. I've heard they're mind blowing." He added flashy hand gestures to his last statement, making most of the guests chuckle or laugh.
Bruce stepped out of the small crowd. "I'd feel better if you let me examine you just in case."
They both rolled their eyes, but it was Clint who answered. "Fine. I guess you're better than some stranger."
Bruce quirked his lips upward and started checking everything he could with absolutely no equipment. As he did this, everyone else slowly started to disperse in the room, breaking off into different groups to observe their comrades from afar, yet not crowd them.
After a few minutes of listening to the holiday music and whispered and mindless chatter, Bruce clapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself to a standing position. "Well, Clint's statement was accurate, and although I'd prefer it if you were in a hospital for at least a few hours, I can wrap up your foot and you'll be good. Well, as close to good as you can get."
Clint smiled. "Thanks Doc." Bruce left to get the bandages with Betty following behind as if she were his nurse. Once they were gone, the archer turned to his partner. "Kiss me."
Natasha just blinked, surprised, but unfazed. "Pardon?"
"I said, 'kiss me'."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "It's Christmas."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Come on, Nat, it's the holiday season!"
"No."
"What about at New Years?"
"No."
"My birthday?"
"No."
"Your birthday?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"You're my partner, Clint. Not my boyfriend."
"Not the 'love is for children' spiel…"
She rolled her eyes and lowered her voice, speaking in Russian to him so that no one else could understand. "We've been over this." Her voice was smooth and rolled over the letters fluently.
Clint replied with almost equal fluidity. "I know. But I'm not going to stop until I get you to kiss me."
"Good luck Barton, you're going to be waiting forever." With that, she stood up and made her way to the table of food, joining Tony and Pepper in their conversation immediately.
At that moment, Bruce and Betty came back and started on Clint's foot. The archer smirked. He had a plan to get Natasha to kiss him. It was foolproof. Except for the fact that she might kill him afterward, but it would be worth it.
"Natasha!" the red head turned around at the sound of her name, drink in hand, to see Clint waving her over from the doorway. He had his arms crossed and was leaning on the trim around the wall and beckoning her with his index finger.
Natasha walked over to him, about two feet away, and put a hand on her hip. "Yes?"
"Come here."
"I am here."
"Come closer."
She raised an eyebrow, suspicious. "Why?" She drew the word out, lingering on the vowels to emphasize her confusion. She found herself involuntarily taking a step closer despite her suspicions – curse her trust in him.
Once she had halved the distance between them, Clint smirked and Natasha immediately knew she had done something she would regret. She narrowed her eyes at him, well aware of the meaning of his smirk; he had done something that would annoy her and please him at the same time. It was a combination she wasn't particularly fond of.
"What?" she bit out.
He took a step closer, his face just inches from hers as he stared at her lips. He looked up, blue eyes distracted momentarily, as if to make sure something was there. Following his gaze, she tilted her head back and spotted something that made her stomach drop: Mistletoe.
The dreaded plant with a tradition to have whoever stood beneath it kiss for some reason no one knew. Natasha's grip on her glass tightened as she realized that this had been his plan all along. Too bad she was never one to follow tradition. She looked back at him and swore he was closer than before. He had yet to touch her, and she was going to keep it that way.
"Nice try, Barton." She whispered seductively, just to tease him. "But that won't make me kiss you." She took a step back, only to bump into a wall she swore wasn't there before. She whipped around, only to see the room she had just come from. There was no wall there. She could see everyone, everyone could see her – though no one was. Though Tony was missing. Odd.
A hand on her shoulder spun her around and pressed her against the invisible wall, bringing Clint's body ever closer to her own. He had one arm by the right side of her head and the other by the left side of her waist. It would have been easy for her to get out of, had the wall she was pressed up against not formed a cylinder with the circumference of a really big pie.
Clint tapped the invisible wall that had appeared out of nowhere and felt nothing like glass. He placed his lips right next to her ear, his breath shockingly cold and sent shivers down her spine. "Property of Tony Stark."
He caressed her cheek with one hand and then pressed his mouth to hers, moving his lips hungrily against hers. She didn't pull back, she couldn't. Her head rested against the wall. But more than that, she didn't want to. She felt herself reciprocating despite her mental orders not to. She knew her arms were wrapping themselves around his neck, playing with his dust filled hair and feeling the caked blood on his back and neck.
She did the one thing she never, ever, did when she wasn't %100 sure she was alone: she closed her eyes. Her tension from the mission melted away and her apprehension of who was around her vanished. The kiss became more passionate and she gripped him tighter, making sure he wouldn't leave despite the wall that proved he couldn't. She didn't want it to end, but eventually she had to breathe and she pulled back a fraction of a millimetre to take in the air they both shared. She didn't open her eyes, instead letting her lashes tickle his cheeks and his nose to brush against hers affectionately.
"You bastard." She whispered, and brought him to her again, crushing their mouths together in another heated kiss. By now, they had attracted the attention of everyone in the room.
Deciding to follow trend, Darcy turned, grabbed Steve by the tie and yanked him to her, smashing their lips together with a smack! A few meters away, Jane shrugged and pushed herself on her tippy toes to kiss Thor, who reciprocated immediately. Tony (who had mysteriously returned) and Pepper followed suit, locking lips affectionately by the bar. Bruce looked at the ground, not participating, until Betty rolled her eyes and grabbed his chin, turning him towards her and capturing his lips with her own. He tensed at first, but relaxed and then wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer to him. It was chaste, so as not to disturb the Other Guy, but it was perfect.
Clint broke away, leaving the both of them panting in their literal bubble of personal space. "Property of Clint Barton." And then he attacked her mouth again.
