A/N So we all know what happens in the movies so I won't be writing about those, just letting you know when they happen so you have a sense of time within the story. Iron Man 2 happens a little less than two years before the Avengers, so we have a while until then, but I might speed up the process between now and then, who knows.
This is the longest chapter yet! Yay!
"So how does it feel to have almost shot an arrow through the heart of a god?" Natasha asked Clint as they ate lunch in the mess hall after he got back from New Mexico.
"Demi-God." Clint corrected. "And I don't think it would have hurt him too much, let alone kill him." Clint was always a little standoffish after returning from a solo mission, especially one where his weapon of choice was constantly being made fun of by agents that preferred machine guns and sniper rifles.
"You better snap yourself out of whatever funk you've gotten yourself into because we have tomorrow to recover and then we have a mission, and it's a long one." Natasha said matter-of-factly.
"They just won't give us a break, will they Tash." Clint said, shaking his head and letting himself relax a bit.
"This is our job, Barton." Natasha said with a raised eyebrow. "And I don't think either of us would know what to do with ourselves if we didn't have it." She continued, without looking up from her food.
"Did you think you would need this job so much when you chose it?" Clint asked.
Natasha gave him a look that was full of the remorse she never thought she could possess and spoke at a low volume so no one else could hear. "I didn't choose this life, Clint."
Realizing the way he worded the question was wrong, he corrected himself. "I mean, did you think you'd need this job when I brought you to SHEILD?"
"I may not have chosen this type of life, but it's the only one I know, so I guess I kind of knew I'd never be able to leave. Willingly at least." She said.
Clint nodded in agreement with the fact that he too would never be able to leave this life, no matter how much he may want to at times. The two sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the fact that they both survived their solo missions.
"Agent Romanoff!" An agent called out from the doorway and Natasha stood up, alerting him to her location. The agent started walking towards the two and most of the cafeteria watched.
Clint stood and looked at Natasha, confused. "What's this about?"
"While you were gone, I got bored of not having anyone to beat while sparring, so Coulson got me to temporarily volunteer with new recruit classes." She responded with a small shrug.
"Oh that's gotta be interesting." Clint said with a breathy laugh that made Natasha smile a little bit.
The other agent made it over to the two assassins and turned to Clint. "You're welcome to watch, Agent Barton. Agent Romanoff might even let you help her demonstrate." Natasha nodded in agreement. "God knows I wouldn't mind a break." He finished softly.
The two master spies shared a look that made the agent a little intimidated.
"I've only been gone five days longer than you have and you're already busy terrorizing half the people on base?" Clint said teasingly.
That made Natasha laugh lightly, which elicited two very different reactions. Clint smiled at the fact that Natasha was feeling more comfortable on base and was able to actually seem kind of human around others. However, the agent she'd been training recruits with, along with most of the agents in close hearing distance looked at her with disbelief.
One of the people who was sitting near the conversation felt the need to comment to his friends about her laugh. "She laughs?" His words weren't meant for Natasha to hear, but she heard them anyway.
Natasha quickly steeled her face into a serious look and stared right at the agent who though himself funny. He froze for a second, then looked back down at his food while he warily cleared his throat, hoping to rid himself of the attention.
This time it was Clint's turn to laugh at his partner's actions. "Alright Nat," He said still chuckling lightly, and placed a hand on the small of her back briefly, prompting her to start walking from the cafeteria. "Let's get to the gym before you're late for class."
The three agents arrived at one of the gyms minutes later. The agent that led the class entered before Clint and Natasha to start the class and let the recruits know of the guest instructors they had the luck of working with that day. Meanwhile, Clint and Natasha devised a quick plan to surprise the class.
When the instructor called out for Clint and Natasha to enter the gym, thinking they would enter from the door he left them out, he was thrown for a loop when only Natasha appeared behind the group of recruits without a sound. She cleared her throat purposefully, making everyone turn around to her.
"First lesson, never go anywhere unarmed." She said as she started to pull knives out of her uniform. All in all, there ended up being a collection of more than a dozen knives neatly placed on the ground, not to mention the two guns she had in her holsters. The group stared at her for a few moments, some of them intrigued, but most of them having a new-found fear of confrontation with Natasha.
"Do you think you can go five minutes without making a room of people stare at you like deer in headlights, Romanoff?" Clint called out from the rafters, causing everyone but Natasha to look around and try to pinpoint where he was.
"That's not in my nature, Barton." Natasha called back, making the group turn their attention to her again.
Clint soundlessly jumped down from the ceiling and stood behind the class. "Should of figured." He startled most everyone there with the sudden closeness of his voice and people were looking back and forth between him and Natasha, wondering what they had planned for them.
The instructor cleared his throat to regain composure in the training gym. "Strike Team Delta, everyone." He said as he motioned towards Clint and Natasha, respectively, with an exhausted look on his face. "Have at 'em."
"Sir, it would be our genuine pleasure." Natasha said as Clint made her way through the group of recruits over to her partner after putting all her knives back where they belong.
"Have you worked with this group before, Natasha?" Clint said, using her first name.
Natasha gave him a look that told him to be professional and responded, "No, Barton, I haven't."
A wicked grin spread across Clint's face as he addressed the class. "Who's first?"
Everyone looked around at each other before most eyes landed on a large guy who seemed pretty sure of himself. Clint nodded towards him and he came forwards.
"Barton, if you don't mind, I'd like the honors of sparring first." Natasha said as she quickly eyed up her opponent.
"As you wish, Romanoff." Clint said as he stood off to the side.
The trainee gave Natasha the once over and decided that she's too attractive to do any damage when up against him. "I've done quite a bit of boxing in my day, so I'll try not to hurt you too bad." He said with a seductive smirk.
Natasha raised her eyebrow at him and Clint mumbled exactly what she was thinking. "I'd like to see you try to get one hit in."
Natasha smiled darkly at the agent for a small bit of a moment, then quickly changed it to the glare that looks as if it could kill someone. Clint blew the whistle, starting the sparring match.
The man pulled his right arm back in preparation for a punch, but Natasha grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and threw him to the ground, pinning him there within seconds. "Next." She called out while looking directly into the eyes of the cocky trainee.
The other trainees knew that Natasha was good, but that guy was the best in their class and if she could take him down that fast, there was no hope for the rest of them. One of the made a statement that referred to the match, and to the rest of their time in the gym that day:
"Oh, shit."
Clint and Natasha had been sent to Madrid to observe the inner workings of the local ETA terrorist cell, which was started in Basque as a proponent for the region's independence. They would then take out the leader when they've gotten all the information they need. Needless to say, this was going to be a long mission.
Clint and Natasha were on a rooftop that overlooked the Puerta del Sol, waiting for the long term target to walk through to the restaurant he was meeting at, but they were really early and Natasha was getting impatient. Suddenly, someone in the square started playing spanish guitar. Natasha smiled to herself.
Clint noticed the change in his partner and became curious. "What?"
"I know this song." She said almost disbelievingly.
"Well what is it?" Clint prodded.
"It's called 'Pursuit of Cygnus Thief'. It's one of my favorites." Natasha said, moving slightly to the intoxicating beat.
"Dance with me." Clint said, standing up.
"Clint, we're supposed to be watching out for Martéz."
"Natasha, we're over an hour ahead of schedule, I think we can spare a few minutes." He responded, pulling her up and holding her in a ballroom dance stance.
Natasha sighed in defeat, but secretly wanted to dance just as much as Clint did. He pulled her into an 8-step tango that was slow at first so they could get accustomed to each others movements, and then sped up with the music. Both of them had experience with this type of dance before since they've had all sorts of covers all over the world.
They swayed together on the resting beats, and their feet moved in a pattern that was truly a work of art. Natasha kicked her legs low in such a way that would make professional dancers a little jealous. Clint lead her using his torso and their unspoken communication. He broke the clasp of their hands and caught her right knee with his hand and brought it up to his hip. He walked backwards, supporting Natasha's waist while gracefully dragging her a few feet and then let her stand again before twirling her away from him and letting their arms straighten out. Natasha gave him a look that said 'corny bastard' while she spun herself quickly back into her partner, her back to his chest and they swayed for a bit before she turned to face him again. The tempo of the song was picking up rapidly, notifying the approaching end and the two once again engaged themselves in a quick yet graceful battle that was a mix of the Argentine Tango with hints of Salsa. They were moving so fast, Natasha's hair was whipping her in the face as she moved her head in the traditional fashion. On the very last beat of the song, Clint pulled Natasha tight against his own body and held her there for a second while they caught their breath.
"We should get back to surveillance now, Barton." Natasha stated.
"Not yet." He said as he leaned down to wipe the confused look off his partners face. He claimed her lips with his in a kiss that could only be described as an equal match to the dance they just did. After a few moments, Clint decided that they really should get back to business.
"Now we can get back to surveillance." He said flatly as he pulled away from Natasha and went back to sniper mode.
Natasha let out a puff of air as she decided that she would never get used to the rapid changes that her partner seemed to go through at the weirdest of times.
Throughout the next few weeks, Clint and Natasha had cased the entirety of the terrorist organization and managed to bug their meeting places, and a few restaurants in the area that the members frequented. Tonight was the night of the takedown, and Clint and Natasha were going in as a couple to 'accidentally' bump into the Martéz at a local bar.
They were staying in a safe house that overlooked Gran Via, and each of their rooms had a great view, but they rarely ever opened the curtains. Tonight though, Clint was in his room waiting for Natasha to finish getting ready and he was sitting by the window, observing the people below who were illuminated by the warmth of the street lamps. He couldn't help but think that this is one of the most beautiful cities in the world, there was history here, there was culture here, there was life here.
"Clint," Natasha called from her room, breaking Clint away from his thoughts. He walked over to her room and stood in the doorway. "Could you zip me up?" She said as she turned away from him and pulled her flaming curls off to the side, revealing her bare back.
Clint walked up to her. "Can't do this yourself?" He said jokingly.
"I can, but it's faster if someone else does it." She replied even though he wasn't really looking for an answer.
He zipped up her dress quickly in response to her snarky comment. When he lingered behind her, Natasha turned around to face him and wondered what was running through his mind right before they were about to go and take out a terrorist ring leader.
Clint started to lower his face towards hers and she realized.
Natasha put and hand up to his mouth and shook her head. "Uh-uh Hawkeye."
He gave her a puzzled look.
"We have a target to take down." She said as she reached for her heels. "And you really think I'd allow you to mess up my lipstick?" She added as her head tilted slightly. She knew he couldn't resist when she did that.
He knew she was testing him so he decided to play it off like it didn't phase him. "Two can play that game, Black Widow." He turned and left her room, grabbed his compact bow that would fit discreetly in his pocket, and returned to Natasha's room. She had part of her dress pulled up higher as she was just finishing attaching one final knife to her thigh and pretended like he wasn't there as she slowly slid the knife into the holder. She stood up straight and pulled the dress back down over her thigh, hiding the knife perfectly.
Clint responded by reaching his left arm up and rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from her to the window. The way his suit jacket opened up and how his body slouched slightly with the movement had Natasha hiding the fact that she was actually reacting to his ploy. She quickly brushed Clint and put on her mission persona.
"Get your ass moving before you make us late, Barton." She said as she put her favorite Glock 22 into her clutch.
"Just gotta make a quick call to Coulson first." He said, reminding his ever-impatient partner that they needed to figure out when the extraction team was coming for them. He held his phone up to his ear and waited for Coulson to answer. "Coulson, yeah it's Barton."
"Got plans for Martéz tonight?"
"Yeah we're just about to go take him out"
"You're both going in right?"
"Yes sir."
"Undercover as a couple, I presume?" Coulson asked almost innocently.
"Uh-huh." Clint said back nonchalantly, hoping Coulson would let it roll of his shoulder.
"You two are getting pretty good at that." Coulson said, mostly in reference to the team's normal choice of cover.
"It's our usual, Coulson." Clint said and Natasha noticed something, 'is he blushing?'
"'Course it is. Extraction will be two blocks east of your safe house at eight o'clock tomorrow morning since there's no definite mission end time tonight. Behave yourselves." That was all Coulson said before he hung up and let the two agents get down to business.
Once Clint and Natasha arrived at the bar, they immediately took seats close to Martéz and his date. Natasha had to admit that the couple wasn't too bad looking.
Natasha did most of the speaking, even though Clint had gotten much better at speaking Spanish since their mission in Texas. Not surprisingly, their target approached them not too long after their arrival.
He had noticed their tendency to speak English to each other. "Now, what brought a nice American couple such as yourselves to this part of town?" He asked in English, but with a thick Spanish accent.
"Quería ver cómo los nativos tengan divertido." (He wanted to see how the natives have fun.) Natasha responded in Spanish, Spain accent and all as she motioned towards Clint.
"Ah, hablan español, Celia." (They speak Spanish.) He said as he turned to his date with a surprised look on his face. He turned back to focus on the intriguing pair. "Como os llaman ustedes?" (What are your names?)
"Me llamo Carmen, y esto es John." (My name is Carmen and this is John.) Natasha responded, using their cover names.
"Carmen, tienes un accento española, eres de España originalmente?" (You have a Spanish accent, are you from Spain originally?) Martéz asked, and Natasha was growing gladder by the second that her cover story was in-depth.
"Sí, nací en Zaragoza, pero luego me mudé a Nueva York. De donde eres?" (Yes, I was born in Zaragoza but later moved to New York City. Where are you from?) She added the question to hopefully divert the attention away from her and her partner.
"Soy del Basque. Por favor, no me juzgues por eso." (I'm from the Basque region. Please, don't judge be for this.) He said with a chuckle. He knew that at least Natasha would think making fun of the troubled region was funny, but Clint laughed a bit as well.
Natasha laughed to keep the conversation lighthearted, and a little flirty. "No juzgaré, pero mis padres te juzgarían. Pero están viejos y no entienden la situación en tu parte del país." (I won't judge you, but my parents would. But they're old and don't understand the situation in your part of the country.) Natasha said convincingly.
"Eres una revolucionaria Carmen. No hay mucha gente como tú fuera del Basque." (You're a revolutionary Carmen. There aren't many people like you outside of Basque.) Martéz said, surprised. "Te gustaría ver algunas cosas sobre este? Tengo los papeles en mi coche." (Would you like to see some things about this? I have the papers in my car.) He said, completely oblivious to the fact that Clint and Natasha were waiting for the moment when they could take him down in private.
"Sería muy bien, pero si no te importa, cómo te llamas?" (That would be great, but if you don't mind, what's your name?) Natasha asked innocently with a smile on her face, making it seem like she didn't want to go somewhere with a stranger.
"Oh, lo siento! Me llamo Fabián Martéz." (Oh I'm sorry, my name is Fabián Martéz.) He replied, a little embarrassed that he forgot to properly introduce himself. "John," He said, turning his attention to Clint. "Te gustaría ver los también?" (Would you like to them too?)
"Sí, me gustaría aprender sobre la historia de España." (I would like to learn about the history of Spain.) Clint replied, appearing happy to learn about the country.
"Entonces, vamos!" (Well then, lets' go!) Martéz said excitedly. The three of them walked outside, Martéz leaving his date inside with some men, presumably henchmen. No one in the bar even noticed that they left. That worked to Clint and Natasha's advantage.
Clint made sure they were out of the line of sight of the other men inside while Natasha distracted their target as they made their way to his car. She was tired of being so fake, so she put on her normal serious face and motioned for Martéz to make his way to an alleyway. No one else was outside but they wanted to be safe.
Once they were in the alley, Martéz started to try and fight back, but both Clint and Natasha pinned him down. The two spies shared a devious look and Martéz was about to yell for help when Clint pulled a syringe out of no where and stuck it in the man's neck. An inordinate amount cyanide quickly coursed through the terrorist's veins and he was dead in minutes.
Clint and Natasha hid the body where they were told to so the extraction team would pick it up in the morning, leaving no trace of Martéz whatsoever.
The two master assassins disappeared from the area and got back to the safe house faster than they had expected. They habitually checked the apartment for anything out of the ordinary, and when they found nothing, they sighed in relief.
"What did Coulson say about extraction?" Natasha asked as she started to disarm herself.
"Tomorrow morning at eight." Clint responded as he too, removed his weapons.
"Huh. What are we supposed to do tonight?" Natasha asked, causing Clint to laugh darkly.
"We could...talk." He said seductively as he walked over to Natasha and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind.
She froze for a second but then decided to turn the tables on her partner. "What did Coulson say that made you blush earlier?"
Clint was a little shocked by that, he had hoped she didn't notice. "I did not blush." He said sternly.
"Yeah, you did, Barton." Natasha said, removing herself from his grasp, no matter how much she wanted to stay there. When Clint didn't answer, she asked again. "What did he say." She said with more force this time as she reached down to her thigh where one of her knives still was.
"No need to get violent, Tasha." He said, regarding where her hand had gone. "He said that we're getting good at playing a couple." He mumbled under his breath. Natasha almost didn't hear him.
"Well, we are still technically on the mission even though are target is dead..." Natasha replied, surprising Clint with a continuation of his earlier dark flirting.
"What are you suggesting, Romanoff?" He asked, using her last name instead of a nickname.
"Our cover is a couple, so we might as well act like one," She said, roughly pushing her hand against his hard chest when she accented one word. "Ya know?" She finished as she locked her green eyes with his grey ones.
"That shouldn't be too hard." Clint said as he smirked down at his partner. "This place is meant to not be found."
"Mmhmm" Natasha hummed as her lips collided with Clint's. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she brought her arms around his neck and rubbed it, not unlike he had done earlier. He walked them backwards so her back was against a wall. Natasha huffed against his lips out of frustration because she couldn't move her head very well. His arms snaked down lower and motioned for her to wrap her dangerous legs around his waist, breaking the kiss briefly as she did so. He smashed his lips back to hers, and deepened the kiss when he pushed her into the wall harder. He squeezed his hands on Natasha's thighs and elicited a moan from somewhere deep within her. He smiled against her lips at his ability to make her do something like that involuntarily. She retaliated by grasping a handful of his hair and pulling hard. She smiled until she felt him react like what she did was a positive thing.
'Masochist.' She thought.
The two were caught up in each other for a while when Clint lightly moved his right hand along the lines of the muscle in Natasha's left leg because at this point she was supporting herself really. She tightened her grip on his waist and ground herself against him, making Clint moan against her lips. For once, he was quickly growing impatient.
"Too...many...clothes." He whispered against her lips in between passionate kisses.
Natasha chuckled lightly, something she rarely ever did. "You too." She said in a surprisingly strong voice.
The two broke the kiss but barely pulled away, smiling at each other like they never thought they could. They couldn't help but think that they were lucky for finding each other in this hellish world they were wrapped up in.
The two of them woke up the next morning at seven o'clock, wrapped up in each other's arms in Clint's bed, smelling of sex and each other. They were perfectly contented until Natasha noticed the time.
"Clint," She started. "We have one hour to get cleaned up and get our asses to the extraction point with all our stuff."
Clint grunted in protest when she left the bed suddenly. She was about to leave his room when she heard his voice from behind her.
"Seriously, Tasha, this whole walking away thing is not going to fly for much longer." He said as he finally got out of bed.
Natasha laughed warmly as she continued out the door.
At exactly eight o'clock, the two agents were met by an extraction team to take them back to the Helicarrier. The had agreed that no one else needed to know about them right now, especially since neither of them really knew for sure what they had. All they knew was that they kinda liked it.
A/N So there are always multiple parts to my stories and I figured out that it's kind of like a comic book how I see it. Anyway, hope you enjoy how long this is, I always surprise myself with the length of my stories.
I feel super awkward even thinking about writing sex scenes, so sorry if you were expecting one, hope this was enough.
Please review! I love getting feedback about my chapters! By the way, are you noticing patterns of characters stealing lines from each other?
My story is currently rated T, but please tell me if it should be rated higher because I'm paranoid about that.