This is my first Clintasha fic! Just a one shot, testing the waters as it were :) Natasha and Clint are given a very different mission and this is how they explore the realms of 'normality'
Disclosure: I do not own any of the characters, games, brand names, or Marvel itself. The only thing I do own is this idea and the laptop I wrote it on. I promise.
It had been a tiring week and there was only one more thing to do; sleep. Natasha and Clint had been busy for the past week in Mexico after experimental drugs were being used to kill.
They were now collapsed on the sofa, not even bothering to make it to the bed. Clint was stretched out, his head propped up by his hand but gently slipping. Natasha was on the space just beside him, her head resting against his shoulder as his arm draped lazily over her body. They had been comfortably resting for the past hour and a half when a sharp knock, woke them.
"Go away!" Clint yelled, his voice thick with sleep and Natasha stifled a laugh as she wriggled back into her comfortable position.
"You have a new mission." It was the formal response of Phil Coulson who sounded like this was the last thing he wanted to do as well.
"Tell me in the morning." It was Natasha's turn to respond.
"That's when it starts." Natasha and Clint crossed looks and both sighing, they sat up and allowed Coulson inside.
"Normality. I hate these missions more than anything." Clint complained, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching his partner make coffee.
It was routine that at least once a year Nick Fury, the director would ensure that all agents had a 'vacation' known more commonly as 'the normality mission'. It ranged between having a couple of days off to having a couple of months and usually involved work partners, or close friends.
"You remember last years? Three months Barton?! Be glad this time it's only a week." Natasha poured the coffee into two large mugs.
"5 days of normality. What do you wanna do?" He asked.
"What's normal around here?" Natasha asked, cradling her own mug and blowing gently on the steaming liquid. Clint leaned across and grabbed his own, taking a large gulp and scolding his own mouth.
"Hospital?" He gasped out as he put the mug down and waited for it to cool. Natasha smirked at his idiocy.
"Somewhere we don't usually spend at least once a week."
The cinema
"Er, two please." Clint asked the ticket vendor.
"I can pay for my own." Natasha pointed out, making a move to her purse. Clint handed the money over and took the tickets, handing one to her.
"You don't need too. This is my choice, therefore I'm paying. You can get the next one." He grinned and putting an arm around her shoulder guided her towards the sweets and drinks.
Laden with two large buckets of pic 'n' mix and two extra-large colas they headed into the screen room. The immediate pitch black made it initially difficult to find the door but once they entered the large theater room they saw the silver screen against the wall in front of them. It wasn't as troublesome to find their seats and getting comfortable they waited quietly.
"This is the first time I've been to the cinema." Natasha commented in a voice not much louder than a whisper. Clint looked over, not a look of shock or surprise as she had expected, but instead just mild amusement.
"Welcome to the world of the big screen Tash, the marvel and magic of the movies." He responded with a mock accent. She giggled, not a sound you'd expect from a spy/assassin, instead more teenage girl on a date. But neither of them commented on that.
"You're an idiot Barton." She remarked, leaning against him.
"Ssh it's starting." He whispered and settled in the chair, nicking a handful of Natasha's sweets.
That evening the two of them sat with leftover Chinese takeaway wrappers around the floor as they leaned against the sofa, sitting on the carpet and watching dvd's.
"We can do this." Natasha commented, leaning her head against the cushion and stretching her arms.
"Normality? Bloody experts." Clint chuckled, taking a large gulp of his beer.
"Oh I'm not saying I want too, this is not my life. But hey, we had fun didn't we?" Natasha put down her half full glass of pure Russian vodka and looked at her partner.
"Course fire, we always have fun."
"So what's tomorrows plan?"
"It's your turn to choose Tasha and remember, you're paying."
The Picnic
"Come on Clint!" Natasha called from the top of the hill. She was carrying the freeze box with their drinks and food inside while Barton followed on with the blanket and picnic basket. It was a traditional approach to picnicking, the two of them going all out in the shops ready for their second day of normality.
"I'm coming." It didn't take him long to reach the top of the hill and the two of them looked at one another, daring in their eyes.
"Race you to the bottom!" They spoke in unison before tearing down the hill and onto the sandy plains of the beach below. It was a secluded spot they had found in a previous mission and now served as the perfect picnicking site. After crashing to the ground in laughter and helping one another up the two set the blanket down and the assortment of extras on top.
It was close to midday and the sun was warmer than it had been recently, perfect outdoor weather. Natasha divided the sandwiches between the pair of them as Clint poured lemonade into two plastic cups.
"This is weird." Natasha commented with a smile as she bit into the sandwich, following it with a gulp of fizzy drink. She looked over to see her partner, dressed in shorts and a top leaning back against his arms, sunglasses covering his eyes. She was sat up slightly, the picnic basket serving as her own backrest as she sat on her jacket, strappy top and shorts allowing the cool breeze to keep her from breaking a sweat.
"You mean this is normal?" Clint asked with a smirk as he cast a sideways glance at his companion. She poked her tongue out in silent retort before looking out at the sea in front of them.
"No I mean you'd never get a regular mission like this would you? Or if you did it would be undercover or something."
Clint sat up. "You mean it's strange that I can call you Tasha and you can call me Clint and yet we're not looking out for people armed to kill?"
"Precisely." She remarked, waving a fork at him as she dipped it into her own pasta pot. Clint stretched over the picnic blanket and grabbed a chocolate biscuit, stuffing the entire thing in his mouth in one go.
"Treasure the moment dynamo it's not often this happens." He replied, standing up with a stone in his hand and tossing it forwards, watching as it skipped the water.
Natasha jumped up almost as soon as the stone finally dipped into the waves and searched the sand grabbing her own.
"Teach me." She ordered with a smile and he proceeded to do exactly that.
Soon they were both tossing rocks into the water, each cheering when theirs went further. Naturally Clint, with the practice behind him managed to get his further and further with each go but by the time they had finished Natasha had managed six skips which was enough for her.
Lying in the sand with the picnic packed up beside them, Natasha and Clint stayed to watch the sunset. It had grown cooler now and Natasha's thin jacket hadn't done enough so Clint draped his own jacket round her, bringing the spy up towards him and allowing her to rest against his chest, his arms around her waist, as he breathed in the scent of her hair.
"Your turn Hawkeye." Natasha whispered.
"Let me think, but let's enjoy this first." He replied, kissing into her hair and returning to silence.
A walk in the woods
"This is the cheap, boring option!" Natasha remarked with a smile as she linked arms with Clint, allowing him to lead her through the forest.
"Cheap yes, boring no. Believe me, you'll have fun. This is the ultimate in being normal Tash, strolling in the woods, climbing tree's and finding animals and of course, Pooh Sticks." He spoke with mild enthusiasm as they reached a bridge, arching over a stream.
"Excuse me?!" Natasha spoke with shock and slight trepidation at the final activity. To this, Clint looked at her in mock horror.
"You have never played Pooh Sticks?! Oh Tasha honey you are missing out big time. Get over here, and find a stick!" His initial excitement had turned to that of a child and Natasha couldn't help but laugh at his approach to the game.
"You drop the stick in the water and wait for it to go under the bridge. Then you run to the other side and watch it come round. The one whose stick comes out first, wins. Get it?" Clint asks, holding his own stick above the water.
"Yeah it sounds simple enough, hardly fun." Natasha said dryly.
"Try it! Ready, steady, drop!" The two of them dropped the sticks together and watched them disappear. Moving to the otherside of the bridge they awaited the outcome of the game. A whoop from Natasha indicated she had won.
"You're right it is kinda fun!" She laughed at the feigned sulk from her supposedly adult partner. Master archer, master sulker.
"Beginners luck."
"Best of three?"
After Natasha had won three games to Clint's two the latter called off the Pooh Sticks game, calling it a draw as she was only a beginner. Natasha refused to accept this and spent the rest of the day choosing the odd moment to remind him of her victories.
His sulk was forgotten about when Natasha asked to move onto the tree climbing. The pair of them experts at climbing a whole range of equipment were beyond ready for a tree climbing session and chose the same tree, one reaching into the rest of the leaves.
With the agility of two cats the two were hidden among the branches not before long and had stopped on a thick, sturdy looking branch.
"So Agent Romanoff, has your opinion of the forest being boring changed at all?" Barton asked with a smile.
"It's fun, when I'm with you. A stroll in the forest with anyone else would be boring. Still a cheap option though."
"Well fire, it's your turn to choose now…normal task number four, where are we heading tomorrow?"
Games Day
Number four was decidedly their best decision for normality. Pj's, board games, and pizza. What more could you want?
Well for starters, a better game buddy as the pair of them were strong competitors, experts at cheating and sour losers. After Natasha lost at Snakes and Ladders and Clint lost at Cluedo it was down to the final game and stupidly they had chosen Monopoly. There wasn't a longer lasting game.
"Damn, bloody hat landed on your stupid house again." Clint flicked through the paper money to pay up.
"Um, Barton I think you're forgetting something?" Tasha indicated the board by tapping the square with her nail. Clint looked down to see the little red plastic shape, marking her hotel. This time he did swear.
Nobody won Monopoly, the pair both ran out of money and in the end owed each other so much they gave up. Deciding the board games were a draw Natasha suggested using one of the games consoles. Picking a war game, something they were both experts in they chose their controllers and characters and were soon heard all over the tower swearing, whooping and shouting at one another as the sound of machine guns and explosions emitted from the speakers.
Three shooting matches, and a racing game later and they soon grew tired of sitting on the floor. So Clint dug around in his own room until he found something very promising.
"What is that?" Natasha asked as he brought out the slim line games console.
"Nintendo Wii…now here is where the challenge lies. Up for a bit of exercise Romanoff?"
"Always." Was her swift retort.
"Well of course you were gonna win that it was archery! I think it's time for something a little out of your comfort zone Hawkeye." Natasha shouted over the ridiculously loud whoops of Barton's fifth win in a row. Natasha dug around with the sports and party games until she came across the laser tag games.
"You know this was gonna be one of my choices for this week,' Natasha commented, sticking the disk in, 'But I'm sure we can try it out on here."
"Bring it on Dynamo." He replied with a sharp grin and a ready stance.
"5 Goes." The voiceover counted down. At zero, the sound of shooting and squealing started up again as Natasha and Clint's characters fought against one another. They were hardly playing fairly, the two of them pushing and shoving their real selves in the hope they would have more control by the end. After the final go the two master assassins were in a heap on the floor, both of them red in the face from laughing and from exhaustion as they collapsed amongst one another.
"I'm done you win!" Clint gasped as he steadied himself on the floor and pushed upwards, till he was leaning up against the sofa. Natasha had done the same and was now breathing just as heavily beside him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead.
"Well done Tash." He said in mock congratulations. She smirked.
"You did good Hawk. But tomorrow is our final day so what's the plan?" Natasha asked, leaning into his shoulder and breathing in his scent.
"You'll see."
The Final Treat
Normality week was all about no missions, no danger calls and no emergency work. However they were free to use the gym and training equipment as much as they liked. So when Clint ushered Natasha out of their quarters so he could set up for the final treat she soon found herself in the gym. After ten laps of the swimming pool she did a couple of simple routines on the high bars and beam on the gymnastics mat.
Taking her time with a long, warm shower and redoing her hair she headed back upstairs. However before entering the main living area she found a note attached to the door;
Hey Tash,
I'm not finished so don't even think of coming in here, you'll only ruin the surprise! Now go to your room, get yourself ready, not formal not posh or anything but I'm making an effort. You can come through at around 7 unless I text otherwise. See you soon
Clint x
Natasha fought the overwhelming urge to peak through the eyehole at the top of the door and instead used the other entrance to her bedroom. Clint was making an effort? After reading this Natasha felt obliged to make some sort of standard and flipping through her wardrobe eventually found something she knew Clint would approve of.
Tying her hair in all manner of different styles she settled on having it loose, with just a little bit in a messy bun. After applying make-up and sitting out the boredom the clock finally ticked on to seven o'clock.
Natasha hadn't heard any further instructions from her partner so assumed it was safe to enter. Unlocking her own bedroom door she walked quietly down the carpeted hall till she reached the original door, the note having disappeared.
"Do I knock?" Natasha whispered to herself.
"No need to knock!" Barton's voice called from the other side. Natasha smirked at his blatant listening out for her and stepped through the door.
Their usual living/dining area had almost completely changed.. The lights were dimmed with candles flickering instead, creating a fiery glow across the red table cloth laid out on their usually bare table. Decent cutlery (which Natasha didn't even know they had) were laid out, just the two sets, awaiting food and a bottle of champagne sat in the ice bucket. In the background, the faint sound of Russian music floated into the silent room.
"What the hell Barton…" Natasha whispered, her voice struggling to contain the amazement and happiness. It was hard to deny that a lot of work had gone into all this and the smell of dinner cooking suggested this was only the beginning.
"Please sit, dinner will be served shortly." He told her, a fake concierge lilt in his voice that made Natasha laugh.
"What are you doing you idiot?" Natasha asked playfully as he pulled out her chair and tucked it behind her.
"Well Tasha, one of the most traditional 'normal' things to do with a date is inviting them over,' he gestured to her, 'cook them dinner,' he pulled the tray of heavenly smelling foods from the oven, 'and have a home cooked meal with them." He presented the dish, spooning vegetables onto her plate and then adding the perfectly cooked chicken.
"A date? Bit presumptuous aren't we?" The pair of them had never really used the term dating to describe – whatever this was – and she looked at him with sparkle in her eyes.
"5 Days spent together doing random coupley things…yes Natasha, this is a date."
"You look beautiful tonight Tasha." Clint commented, causing his partner to look away. She was wearing his favourite dress, an emerald green that matched her eyes with a slightly low neckline.
"You look very smart." She responded, indicating his fitted cream shirt and dark formal trousers.
He sat down opposite her, poured them both a glass of champagne and held it aloft.
"To us." He announced and tapped her glass against hers.
"To us." She whispered in response.
They ate quietly until halfway through the meal when Natasha commented on his cooking skills.
"Where did you learn to cook like this?" She asked, collecting another forkful of peas and bringing them to her mouth.
"There is a hell of a lot of things you don't know about me Natasha Romanoff. I mean I can't tell you everything, how else would I surprise you." He replied with a grin.
"You're a flirt Clint Barton." Was her response as they continued eating.
"Full?" Clint asked as he cleared away their plates, leaving them on the side to deal with later.
"Why is there something else?" Natasha asked. Her mouth melted and stomach growled at the sight of two perfect crème brulee's.
"That I believe is the sound of someone with room for dessert."
They took their leftovers to the bedroom and both sat on the bed finishing. Natasha sat cross-legged at the end of the bed facing Clint as he sprawled over the duvet in comfort.
"Thank you for this evening." Natasha commented, moving her plates and cutlery to the beside unit.
"Thank you for this week." Clint replied in kind. He ditched his own plate and things on the floor the other side.
"Who knew we could live the lives of normal people?" Natasha smiled.
"It's a mission, going undercover to be ourselves in a normal environment. Everyone should know we were gonna be experts."
"Nicely put."
After a moment's pause in the conversation Clint leaned over the bed, and pulling on Natasha's wrist, guided her so she was leaning against him, her head propped up by his arm.
"We should have normal weeks a lot more often." He murmured into her hair, to which she scoffed.
"No thank you. But normal evenings, they'd be okay."
"We could have date nights!"
"You're an idiot."
Natasha pressed a kiss to Clint's lips. It wasn't their first kiss, nor was it like any other. It wasn't slow and sensual, it wasn't rough and fast. It was a mix between the two, a kiss between two people who knew they loved one another but would be damned if they ever admitted it. A kiss that they both fought for control over in a gentle way, hands finding one another's bodies and exploring as hands do.
Hands in hair, over clothes, under clothes and onto skin. Hands pulling, pushing, tugging, twisting to control their own headstrong emotions and heading for an inevitable ending.
Tongues don't battle though. They duel. The first, the starter will proceed with dominance and explore. The secondary, the other tongue will taste and endure before moving to take their place and have their turn. Each would have their own turns, one at a time until two became one and the duel became a dance.
And that dance played on until well past midnight, where the two assassins lay together, pressed to one another in exhaustion, the blanket draped over the pair of them.
Clint pressed a sleepy kiss to the almost asleep Natasha. She wriggled at the touch and sighed in content.
"Night my Tash."
"Night my Hawk."
3:15am
"Hawk?" It was pitch black in the room and Natasha's eyes remained closed. The tell tale signs of Clint's breathing told her he was awake.
"Mm." His response was sleepy and barely intelligible.
"You have to do the dishes in the morning. This date was your idea."
"Shit. You wash I'll dry?"
"Other way round."
"Deal."
"Deal."
"Tash?"
"Mm?"
"Night."
"Night Barton."
I really hope you all enjoyed! Please read&&review and I'd really like you all to let me know if you think I should continue writing Clintasha! Thank youu!