Disclaimer: I do not own Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Natasha Romanoff, or any of the Marvel Universe/its affiliations.
Here we are with another one shot. This one's got a little more action and a hint of Clintasha (which I love).
Shout out to Learlorde for reviewing the last chapter. I love to read all the feedback from you guys!
The word for this one shot was "Dance"
Enjoy!
October 20th, 2010
Marseille, France
"I'm in position."
Natasha gave the slightest inclination of her head to show she had heard her partner. She knew he could see her, even if she was having trouble finding him. He was above her, somewhere. Watching. Waiting.
"Time to work your magic, Tash."
He was the only person in the world who called her that. She pretended it was annoying, but in reality, she loved hearing it. It was the first time in her life someone had come up with a nickname for her. And it was better because it was coming from her Hawk - his personal touch had that effect on most things.
Natasha wasted no more time in the shadows. She moved towards the center of the dance floor, her hips swaying and the dark green fabric of her dress pooling around her. She kept her eyes locked on her target - a tall man in a rich suit - until he noticed her. When he did, it was as if time stopped. Natasha stopped walking towards him, altering her course slightly. Even as she turned, she could feel his eyes following her. She mentally counted to three. It never took longer than that. The man was on her in a few seconds, his eyes taking all of her in.
"Je ne crois pas que nous ayons jamais rencontré," he said, his voice low as he stepped closer to her. She had to physically refrain herself from snapping his wrist when he put his hand on the small of her back. "Je sais que je me souviendrais d'une si belle femme." (I don't think we've met. I would remember meeting such a beautiful woman.)
Natasha turned to look at him, a sweet smile on her lips. "Vous pensez que je suis belle?" (You think I'm beautiful?)
The man grinned down at her, his eyes dark with the lust Natasha was all too familiar with. "Danse avec moi." (Dance with me.)
It wasn't a question, so she didn't treat it as one. Instead, Natasha took his free hand, walking him back to the center of the dance floor. She kept her exit in the corner of her eye as she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her close, his hands too low on her hips. Natasha kept her smile on her face as they started to sway with the music. He dipped her down towards the floor, pulling her up into a slow spin. He leaned forward and Natasha had to turn her face so his lips would land on her cheek rather than her mouth. Couldn't make it that easy.
He pulled back with a slightly confused frown, but he didn't complain. He tightened his grip on her hips slightly and she felt his eyes travel down her body. But she just kept smiling.
She didn't stop smiling when the knife appeared in her hand. Natasha pulled him close, brushing her lips over his ear.
"Hawkeye envoie ses salutations," she muttered. (Hawkeye sends his regards.)
Before the man could react, she was pulling her arm back and dragging the knife back across his throat. His eyes went wide as she let him fall to the ground, blood pouring from his throat. Just as she was stepping back from the body, someone next to her screamed. Gunshots rang out around her, but she was already moving. She grabbed her skirts in her hands, running towards the staircase she knew was tucked in the corner behind her. As she did, she listened to the gunshots behind her - series of random shots followed by quick, precise ones she knew belonged to Clint. She had not doubt he would have all the security down before they even realized where he was shooting from.
Natasha ripped her heels off her feet as she ascended the stairs, not coming to a stop until she was hidden behind a curtain on the third floor balcony. She took a half step forward, looking out over the ballroom. The guests were screaming and running towards all the exits, but Natasha didn't care about them. She was far more interested in the twelve dead body guards littered around the dance floor. Each of them had a single bullet hole in between there eyes. Always the show off, her Hawk.
In the next instant, he was beside her, a wide grin plastered on his face. She still had no idea where he had come from.
Clint slipped the strap of his sniper rifle over his shoulder, looking down at his handy work. Natasha saw his gaze linger on the man she had killed herself. Clint had told her he had known the man from his past but hadn't elaborated. Natasha could tell by the tone in his voice that whatever it had been wasn't good. That was initiative enough for her to kill the man without question.
"How did I do?" he finally asked, whatever darkness the memory of that man had brought suddenly gone. Natasha looked down at her watch. She met his hopeful eyes with a crooked smirk.
"Not your best."
Clint's face fell as he looked back to the ballroom below. "Dammit. I thought for sure I beat my record this time."
"You'll just have to try harder," Natasha said, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked down at her and for a moment, all Natasha saw was him. She let herself fall into those stormy grey eyes that had captivated her all those years ago. The same eyes that had seen something in her she hadn't had the strength to see in herself. He looked down at her with the same ferocity and - for a moment - it was just the two of them. No job, no danger, no target. Just them.
"If you two are done staring into each other's eyes, I'd like to be home in time for dinner."
Phil Coulson's voice took them both out of their trance and Clint was laughing.
"Jesus, Overwatch, do you know everything?"
"The only thing I know right now is that I'm starving and would like to go get some food."
"Oh! I know this little place down by the port - Les Arcenaulx - that serves the best bouillabaisse I've ever had," Clint said, suddenly getting excited. Natasha couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm for food.
"Is that right?"
"Won't eat it anywhere else," Clint said, matter-of-factly.
"It sounds good to me," Natasha said in agreement, suddenly realizing just how hungry she was too.
"I'll see you two there. You'd better not take any detours."
Clint shot Natasha a wide grin and she couldn't help but smile back.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Phil."
Alrighty, another one down. I loved writing this because it had some really cute moments. I really like Clintasha, and plan on writing it into my stories - in a way. This will all come to light soon, but I've never imagined them as mushy-cutesy partners. It - to me - just doesn't fit into their characters. It will all be explained later (in a story that may or may not take place in a Hungarian capital) but I have a little different take on their relationship than most people.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little snippet into Strike Team Delta's life. Drop me a review letting me know how much you did/didn't enjoy it.
Until next time.
Ciao
