Takes place Midway through Iron Man 3. Written sort of ambiguously to fit in with the plot of CA: The Winter Soldier (whatever it might be).


December, 2013:

Europe, Operation: Winter Soldier

They stood in the center of the room, gently swaying to the music. A grand chandelier rested above their heads, and the nights of the city were visible through the windows which stretched to the ceiling.

People were dancing all around them, dressed up in fine suits and gowns. Those who weren't dancing stood around the tables on the outskirts of the room, making business deals or getting drunk on the finest of alcohol.

Gossip flew around amazingly fast; the music seemed to have no hindrance on the ease at which people could hear another. The main centerpiece of the gossip was none other than Tony Stark, who had recently captured the attention of the world.

The couple in the center of the room absorbed it all, showing no sign of interest in anything but their partner.

In truth, they seemed quite unremarkable in such a scenario. A beautiful young woman dancing with a man around ten years her elder; both obviously used to a wealth life. She wore a simple black dress and he a simple three-piece suit. His arms were around her waist, and hers playing with the nape of his neck. With the exception of a few quick glances around the room here and there, they only had eyes for each other.

To everyone in that room, they were simply Natalie Rushman and Louis Ronin; a Russian model accompanying a wealthy philanthropist for the evening.

They fit in perfectly.

To each other, however, they were Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton; two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents currently waiting for her target to walk in the door.

The target isn't expected to be here for another half an hour or so, but they remain vigilant. But to be honest, Clint can tell Natasha's heart really isn't into it. And the gossip flying around the dance floor makes it painfully clear.

Technically, Natalie Rushman is supposed to be dancing with Steve Rogers, and technically Clint Barton is somewhere in Brazil.

Technically, Natasha Romanoff should've been surprised to see Agent Barton at the facility, and technically this is endangering the mission to find the Winter Soldier.

But technically this could go to hell for all Natasha cared right now.

So when Clint showed up, Steve respectfully disappeared, leaving Clint to dance with his partner. So here they were.

"Well, aren't you lost," Natasha whispers smugly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I s'pose so," Clint retorts. He snakes his arm around her waist so they can begin to dance.

"How was Brazil?" Natasha asks, not eager to talk about what was really on her mind.

"Hot," Clint teases. "Lots of dead guys there."

They carefully weave past couples to get into the center of the room, where surveillance is more efficient.

"How did you know?" Natasha finally speaks. That I needed you.

"My mission wrapped up early," Clint responds in code. "Thought I'd come visit." You're not invincible, Nat. Tony's death is rough for all of us.

Natasha nods, but doesn't say a word. She only presses herself closer to him as they move.

Everyone leaves them alone for awhile. So they just dance in their own little world, trying to figure out the implications if Tony is truly gone.

"Do you think Stark's dead?" Natasha whispers into her partner's ear.

"I don't know," Clint responds honestly. To anyone else, they look like two lovers whispering sweet nothings into the other's ear. Their voices are too low to hear.

Clint can feel his partner's body tighten against his own. "We shouldn't be here," Natasha grits her teeth as she speaks. "Fury should extract us to go search - "

"Shh," Clint soothes, "Stark can handle himself."

"No he can't." Natasha's spine is stiff, and she's stopped swaying.

"Nat, don't blow the cover," Clint mumbles, "Dance with me."

He takes a step back and Natasha follows.

"They say his house was destroyed," Clint overhears. "How?"

Natasha sets her head against his shoulder as the continue to sway. What looks like an intimate moment is actually her trying to overhear the gossip better.

"A missile," she answers after a minute of silence.

"The suit can survive a missile blast," Clint reminds her.

Natasha picks her head up off his shoulder to sigh.

"Why so concerned about Stark?" Clint asks, a grain of curiosity hidden in his voice.

"I'm not ..." Natasha retorts. "It's just that ... that could've been any of us."

Clint nods in understanding, rubbing one hand in circles against the small of her back.

" 'm not planning on threatening terrorists anytime soon," he jokes, "Unless you are?"

"Just killing them," Natasha answers with a bit of dark humor, giving him the slightest of smiles.

"Now you sound like you," he whispers softly. He's never been one for re-quoting her (this is a lie), but the opportunity is too perfect to pass up.

She pulls painfully on the hairs on the nape of his neck, but lets out a genuine smile all the same.

They continue to dance for a while, keeping a 360 degree view of the room between the two of them.

"Pepper's alive," Clint informs her, overhearing a snippet of some diamond-studded woman's conversation.

"Okay," Natasha responds, trying to remain indifferent.

"If Pepper's alive, Stark is too," Clint states.

"What makes you so sure?" Natasha challenges.

"He can't live without her," Clint reasons, "So he won't go 'till she does."

A moment of understanding flickers between the two as their eyes meet. Natasha knows her partner is only half talking about Tony and Pepper anymore.

Clint cranes his neck down to plant a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Target acquired," he whispers as he pulls away. "Go get him." And with a wink, he's gone into the crowd.

Natasha takes a deep breath and makes eye contact with Steve at the bar. Back to work. Tony Stark's still alive; so is the Winter Soldier.

But when all this is done, Natasha can't help but hold him a bit closer.