Avengers
Budapest
Chapter 7
The chiming of the grandfather clock penetrated Clint's fog-filled brain, bringing him renewed awareness of his surroundings. Cool air whispered over sizzling hot skin as he waited for his heart rate to return to normal…again. His chest was sticky with sweat, especially where Elisabeta was cuddled against his right side, bare skin sliding along bare skin. She made a sound of immense satisfaction and pleasure, a long wavering sigh, as though she'd tasted an especially delectable treat.
They were lying on a blanket in front of the cold fireplace in the library, the only light coming from the moon streaming in the patio doors creating long shadows on the floor. The scent of old books mingled with the distinctive aroma associated with passionate love making.
Her fingers flexed, the short, manicured nails digging into his flesh, stirring parts of him that should be well and truly tired by now. The hand inched its way down, and when Elisabeta's intent became clear, he stopped her by weaving their fingers together. "I'm more than happy to fulfill all your requests, Betta. Just give me a few minutes to recharge."
He felt her smile where her cheek lay on his shoulder. "As long as you don't take too long."
Clint laughed out loud and pulled her close so he could press his lips to hers. "Mmm. I had no idea you were so insatiable."
He felt the vibration of her laughter where they touched. "Until tonight, I've never made love anywhere but in a bed. It's quite exhilarating to do it in places one normally wouldn't."
"Like the breakfast table in the kitchen, that fancy chair in the front room, standing up in the hallway, on the washer during the spin cycle, and on the floor of the library?"
"Yes, like that."
He kissed the top of her head, rubbed it with his cheek and sighed. "No offense, but this sexual awakening of yours is wearing me out."
One leg came up and over his, dropping between his thighs and grazing his nether regions, on purpose, it seemed. He groaned, silently so Elisabeta wouldn't think he wanted her to stop. Under normal circumstances, he and the woman would be asleep by this time, whether together in her bed-never at his place-or he went home. And he did promise to satisfy all of her wants and needs.
The sound of her breathing lulled him, and just as he was about to fall asleep, that hand of hers went back to work. "Careful how you handle the merchandise," Clint quipped.
She immediately released him, her hand sliding up to touch his cheek. "Where should we go next?"
Looking down at her beautiful face, he grinned. "I have an idea. We need a blanket and some more of that wine."
"Mmm. We'll stop in the kitchen on the way."
~~O~~
Standing beside Ryland, the blanket wrapped around her like a toga leaving her right arm and shoulder bare, for the first time since their initial meeting, Elisabeta thought he'd gone mad. "Please tell me you're making a joke."
"I promise," he hugged her from behind, "it'll be worth it."
"What if we wake the neighbors and they see us?"
He chuckled. "We'll just have to be quiet."
Taking her hand, Ryland opened the door that led to the garden and tugged her after him. He located an area that was free of the decorative rocks and fairly flat. The trees and bushes would block prying eyes from all but one direction. If someone on the upper floors of her building were to look out, they might be seen, but the hour was late, and most of her neighbors retired early.
Reluctantly, Elisabeta allowed Ryland to take the blanket and spread it on the grass. Kneeling down, he held out his hand and she laid hers in it. He drew her down beside him and into his embrace so they could kiss. Soon, she was on her back with him moving above her. Until now, she'd been the one to make all the decisions about which way each encounter would go, accepting the occasional suggestion from him. Now, all pretense of her calling the shots was gone. Ryland took command with a firm hand and a delicate touch. It wasn't long before she came to the realization that the passion they'd shared so far was just the tip of the iceberg.
And when the end came, he covered her mouth with his to muffle the sounds of ecstasy just as lightning flashed and rain poured down on them. With quick, efficient movements, he flipped the sides over her, then scooped her into his arms and hurried inside, not stopping until he reached the bedroom. Setting her down, he let the wet blanket fall leaving them both standing naked in the middle of the bedroom. They looked at each other and laughed. On the heels of the laughter, Elisabeta shivered, and Ryland whispered, "We should take a hot shower before you catch cold."
"Together?"
He winked at her, grinning impishly. "You need someone to wash your back, angyalom. And I think I have one more in me before sleep becomes a necessity."
~~O~~
Sometime later, they were lying together in the middle of her bed. Elisabeta with her head on his shoulder, the pads of his fingers lightly trailing up and down her arm, not talking. After the shower, they'd gotten into bed and fallen asleep. She had awakened when he kissed her on the forehead. Ryland pulled her tightly against him briefly and brushed the still damp strands of hair from her forehead. "I should go."
Tilting her head back to look at him, she frowned. "Must you?"
One side of his mouth turned upward. "Didn't know if you'd want me to stay or not."
This newfound confidence Elisabeta enjoyed had no place in this moment. "Please do."
Ryland's hands stilled their gentle movements. "Before you say that, you should know…"
She raised up on one elbow, forcing him to release her. With all seriousness, she murmured, "Tonight was amazing, almost magical. Please don't say anything to break the spell. Just let me savor it for a while because you'll be gone soon, and I don't want you to have regrets."
Settling into the bed again, she waited to hear what he would say. Time passed so slowly that it could have been seconds, minutes or even an hour before he dropped a warm and tender kiss on her lips. "In general, I have many regrets. About you? Never. I'll stay, but first, we should clean up the mess we made in the kitchen before Cook sees it."
Laughing, she tossed back the covers, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, reaching for her robe. She went to the closet and tossed him a robe. Ryland paused only a moment before slipping it on and tying the front. He needn't have worried. She'd planned on giving the robe to Robert on his birthday.
Ryland insisted on doing the cleaning while she nibbled on some leftovers from the refrigerator and sipped wine. "This is bone china. It's been in Robert's family for generations. Always passed down to the eldest child."
Crawling from under the table, he held up a cup and saucer that had somehow escaped the carnage. "I found some that aren't broken."
She sipped her wine then set the glass aside to take them. "It was to be a gift to Ben and Laura on their wedding day."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. I've always thought the design was hideous." She looked at the cup in one hand the saucer in the other then at Ryland. With a mischievous grin, she let go. They fell to the floor with a satisfying crash. Taking a deep breath, she let it out and grinned. One of Ryland's eyebrows arched in question. Instead of answering, Elisabeta went down the hall to the dining room and he followed. They returned to the kitchen carrying the rest of the despised china, where they smashed each and every piece one at a time. "That felt good!"
Elisabeta grabbed the lapels of his robe, spun him around, pushed him back onto the table, and climbed up to straddle his hips. As this was where their first time together had been, she thought it fitting that they make love here once more before going to sleep.
Afterward, Ryland swept up the shards of bone china while she held the dustpan, making short work of it. He returned the cleaning supplies to the small closet in a corner of the laundry room. The broken pieces of china and wine bottle he dumped into a trash bag and set it outside the back door. The silverware went into the sink where he rinsed the food off before taking her hand and leading her back to the bedroom, but instead of going right to bed, he had her sit at the vanity while he brushed her hair.
The expression on his face reflected in the mirror was of intense concentration, and Elisabeta could feel that this was how he always was, no matter what the situation. All of his attention focused on the task, though not so much that he became desensitized to his surroundings. She'd noticed that at their first meeting. Every few moments, his eyes would scan the area and return to her, as if she were the center of his universe at that moment, and everything else came second. It had been disconcerting at first, but then, she became used to his scrutiny and it no longer bothered her. Instead, it made her feel safe, cared for.
Setting the brush aside, Ryland took her hand and led her back to the bed. He helped her off with the robe, put her in and drew the covers up to her neck, then went around to the other side, got in beside her, and cuddled her close. Within moments, her eyes became heavy and soon she was asleep.
~~O~~
Once Elisabeta had fallen asleep, Clint set his watch to wake him in a couple of hours and soon, he too was asleep.
Hours later, the alarm went off, and Clint rushed to shut it off. Rubbing the sleep from the eyes, Clint carefully removed Elisabeta's arm from where it lay across his chest and scooted off the side of the bed. She made a noise and rolled over, but didn't wake up.
After dropping a light kiss on her forehead and tucking the covers around her shoulders, he gathered his clothes where they were strewn all over the living room floor, except for his boxers. Those he found on the mantel over the fireplace. Going into the guest room, he used the shower, dressed, and combed his hair, all in under ten minutes.
Clint went to the library and rummaged in the desk for paper and an envelope. Taking a pen from the holder, he wrote a quick note, folded the page, slid it into an envelope and sealed it. On the front, he wrote Elisabeta's name.
The sun had been up for only a short time, and as he approached the front door, he heard low voices in the hall just before a key turned in the lock. Cook and Anya stared at him like deer in headlights. To tweak them, he grinned and winked. "Mornin', ladies. You might want to let Elisabeta sleep in today. We were up kind of late."
Without speaking, Cook sidled past him with a wary eye, letting Anya deal with him. "You're leaving before breakfast, Mr. York?"
"I have an appointment I need to get to." He handed her the envelope. "Would give this to Elisabeta when she wakes up?"
"Of course." Clint stepped past the young woman into the hall. She stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Will you be back?"
Staying with Elisabeta wasn't in Clint's plans, nor was returning in the future. If circumstances had been different, if he had been different, he could see making a life for himself with Elisabeta. But she needed to spread her wings, to fly solo. If he stayed, he'd only get in the way of her newfound confidence, and that, he would never do. It was time to go before either of them became emotionally invested in this relationship.
He shook his head. Anya's face fell, the look of sadness on her employer's behalf so profound that Clint leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. "Take care of her."
"I will. Good bye, Mr. York."
Out in the street, it was early and few cars were on the road. The trolleys weren't running yet so Clint flagged down a cab for the ride to the safe house. Just as he was sticking the key in the door, Natasha opened it. "Where the hell have you been? I expected you hours ago. There's an emergency. Coulson's sending someone to get us."
He pushed past her to gather up his duffle bags and take one last turn through the apartment to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. "I get shit when I don't take your advice. Then, when I do, I still get shit. Make up your ******* mind, Nat."
For one of the few times since he'd known her, Natasha was speechless. It wouldn't and didn't last. "You slept with her?!"
She stared at him as he took possession of her bags and went out into the hall, adding them to his own. Someone from SHIELD would be along to collect the computer and other electronic equipment.
Huffing, he led the way out to the car parked at the curb. Their ride would be picking them up at a secluded location on the north side of the city. "That was your advice, as I recall. So…"
"But you were out all night, Clint. You never stay the night with…"
Rolling his eyes, Clint tossed their bags in the trunk and got behind the wheel. "Elisabeta is not a conquest. I didn't sleep with her for stress relief or to get information out of her. I did it because I wanted to. Because I enjoyed her company."
Natasha was quiet for a while then, "Are you…"
"No." Clint hoped from the short answer and sharp tone that his partner wouldn't bring it up again. At least not for a while.
To Clint's relief, once the debriefing was over, she never spoke of Budapest again. Not until a few years later while they were doing their best to repel an alien invasion over Manhattan. They had just sent Captain America off to help Thor, Stark and Hulk. It might have been his imagination, but Natasha seemed to be enjoying the fight.
Even knowing it would do no good, she kept firing her Makarovs at the aliens, the tone of her voice almost cheerful though they were hopelessly outnumbered. "This is just like Budapest all over again."
Mentally rolling his eyes, Clint huffed at his partner. "You and I remember Budapest very differently."
To the great relief of everyone involved, the Avengers, as Fury called them, were able to stop Loki and the Chitauri from taking over Earth by sending a nuke back through the vortex. It exploded just as the portal closed preventing any fallout from impacting Manhattan and the civilians living and working there.
Once everything calmed down and the team had their injuries tended to, Stark took them for shawarma. Clint hadn't bothered to tell him that he'd been eating it since he joined the circus. He was starving and Stark was paying. That's all Clint cared about.
Once the excitement died down, and repairs to the city began, Clint thought about Elisabeta for the first time in a couple of years. While he was sidelined with a concussion and his injuries from his fight with Natasha, and the visits with the staff shrink, he used the vast resources of SHIELD to check up on her. What he found made him smile.
Because she was one of the wealthiest women in Budapest and had been good friends with Marja and Benedek Szabo, her picture occasionally made it to the society pages of the newspapers, and online, though thankfully not often. The articles he did find usually came out around the anniversary of the Szabo's flight from justice to a country that had no extradition treaty with Hungary or the US.
The most recent blurb included a photo of Elisabeta with a man slightly older than she. He had white hair and a dignified air. They were just leaving the Budapest Opera House after a performance of Swan Lake. She looked happy and in high spirits. Clint could tell she liked the man and enjoyed his company, but she wasn't in love with him.
Clint had told Natasha the truth their last day in Budapest. He hadn't been in love with Elisabeta, but he had and still did care about her enough to want her to be happy. If he'd stayed around, then yes, he could easily have loved her the way she deserved, but he would've also hurt her. And that he wouldn't do for any amount of money.
There was a knock on the door, and Clint hurriedly shut down the computer so his partner wouldn't see what he'd been up to. She'd been given the assignment of overseeing Banner's work for SHIELD, and wasn't dealing well with the stress of being around the Other Guy, even in his non-Hulk form. There wasn't much he could do to help because the Black Widow preferred to work through these things on her own. And until he was released by the doctors, medical and mental, he was stuck at his temporary home in D.C., cooling his heels while being questioned on a daily basis by the WSC. He didn't need her worrying about him more than she already did.
Budapest, Hungary
Elisabeta became aware of an antiseptic smell and the sound of beeping long before she opened her eyes. Her head ached and when she lifted her hand, found she had an IV. "Anya?"
A familiar, warm hand touched hers. "I'm here, Elisabeta."
"Where am I?"
Anya's voice was filled with worry and that controlled tone that said she'd been crying. "In the hospital. Cook found you unconscious in the garden. Do you remember anything?"
Scooting around in the bed to get comfortable, Elisabeta glanced around the hospital room. There was only one bed and the curtains were drawn. "Yes. I felt dizzy, and my stomach turned nauseous. I started to go inside to lie down, and now I am here."
"The doctor said you passed out because your blood pressure dropped suddenly. He will be back soon. There are many tests he wants to do before he can make a proper diagnosis." The nurse came in and Anya excused herself to call Cook and let the older woman know that Elisabeta was awake.
The Next Day
Sitting up in bed, Elisabeta clasped her hands together in her lap, barely able to fathom what the doctor was telling her.
"…There are treatments for your condition. If they are to be at all effective, we must begin immediately. I'll leave you to think about it. Would you like the nurse to call someone?"
"No, thank you. My son and his wife will be here soon. I'll talk it over with them and let you know what I decide."
"Of course." He gave her hand a comforting squeeze and left her alone.
Elisabeta's options were few. She could take the treatments and maybe live a long life. The treatments may only work for a short time, extending her life by a few years. After which, she'd die within a few months. Or she could not take the treatments and be dead before Christmas. To her, the choice was obvious. Ben and Laura had gotten married a year ago, and Elisabeta wanted to live long enough to have grandchildren. She would take the treatments, and hope for the best.
Now that the decision had been made, she felt better. When Ben and Laura arrived, she would tell them, and in a few days, be back home again.
Miklos had returned from his business trip today, but she would tell him just enough to put his mind at ease. After that, she would send him away so he wouldn't have to watch her deteriorate over time. She knew he would insist on staying with her, but she would rather have him find someone else than give his love to a woman who may not live long enough to be worthy of him.
There was a light knock on the door. It opened and Miklos came into the room carrying a small bouquet of flowers in a vase. He set them on the nightstand and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "You're awake, kincsem. When Anya told me you were in hospital, I came right over."
"It was nothing. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything, and with the unseasonably warm weather, I became dehydrated. The doctor is merely being cautious."
He pulled a chair close to the bed and held her hand. It felt good, but not in the way it had with Robert. With her husband, from the first touch, she felt as if something magical was happening, that somehow, in spite of the odds against it, she'd found her soulmate. And when he died, for a long time, she thought that she'd never find another man she would love as much as she loved Robert.
Miklos was intelligent, kind, compassionate, and a gentle lover, and though she always felt satisfied by their encounters, they lacked the power and the passion she'd tasted with the man she knew as Ryland York. She'd known that Ryland would be gone when she awoke that morning, and so was not surprised to find herself alone. His note did nothing to explain why he left, nor did it say that they would ever see each other again.
In between Ryland and Miklos, she'd had a few lovers, but none had made her feel the way she wanted to feel, and that was fine with her.
But now it was time to send Miklos on his way. They had no formal commitment, and there had been no declarations of love, so it should be easy. "Miklos, something has been on my mind…"
~~O~~
For Elisabeta, life returned to something near normal after the surprise diagnosis she'd received. That was nearly two years after Robert had died so unexpectedly. Then, recently, tests showed that the treatments she'd been taking were no longer as effective as they once were.
Sitting across from the doctor, she held Anya's hand as he told her the news. "I'm very sorry, Ms. Kakos. We've exhausted all accepted treatments for your condition as well as a few experimental ones. Your only recourse now is a transplant. I can add your name to the database, and as you have one of the most common blood types, a compatible heart could be found fairly quickly."
"And if I decided against the transplant, how long do I have?"
"Four to six months is average for a woman of your age and physical condition."
Elisabeta glanced at Anya, glimpsing a single tear well up and slide down her cheek. Somehow, it gave her the courage to do what had to be done. Sitting up straight, Elisabeta felt a sense of peace for the first time in years. "For me to live, someone else must die, and that will not do at all. There will be no transplant, doctor."
TBC
