CHAPTER #8

In Ho Chi Minh city they were able to stay at a three star hotel. It was cheap, yet clean. Natasha went straight for the shower and stayed in there for 45 minutes. Agent Barton was unpacked and drinking a beer by the time she came out. Robe on, towelling her hair she looked at him.

"Get me one?"

"Of course, it's in the mini bar fridge." Without turning around Clint asked, "is there any hot water left?"

"Give it fifteen minutes or so," Natasha shrugged.

"Fury said the beacon ended here. So either they found the tracker or ditched the boat when their men didn't report in," Clint deducted.

She nodded, "most likely." She used the corner of the counter top to uncap her beer, then took a long swallow. "Damn that tastes good."

He sat leaning back in a chair, feet propped up on the balcony railing. He could hear her moving around in the room, but he ignored her. "I hate starting all over again."

"At least this place is nicer. We can check out the waterways and see if anyone noticed a speedboat come by recently." She had changed into jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of sandals. Watching him balance on the chair legs, she wanted to kick it out from under him.

As if reading her mind, he said "don't even think about it."

"What?" She asked with heavy innocence.

He took his feet off the rail and brought the chair down. Standing up, he came face to face with her. Her eyes widened, not knowing what he was going to do. He saw it and said, "relax. I'm just getting another beer." He moved past her, his body brushing hers as he passed by.

For some reason she was acutely aware of him today. She even blushed, just thinking about how his arms had flexed when he had stretched before getting up. Maybe she should've taken a cold shower and not a hot one. She leaned against the rail, looking out over the city below. He came beside her, mimicking her stance.

"Amazing view."

"That it is," she agreed.

He finished the second beer and then went back into their room. It had two beds and he had let her choose which one she wanted. As he had predicted, she took the one closest to the wall. Some things never changed. He went to the bathroom and stripped down, stepping into the shower. The hot water felt amazing. He began to daydream about Natasha's strip tease, the image was burned into his mind. A groan escaped his lips as he looked down at himself.

"Shit, what am I thinking. Damn it I need to get laid," he said to himself. Then he turned the water to cold and waited for it to cool his desire.

By the time he walked out in a towel, he was in control again. Until she turned around and gave him a look that travelled over his body from head to toe. Then her eyes met his, just for a second. It was so quick, he almost thought he had imagined it. But the slight colour in her cheeks told him otherwise. They needed to put some space between them, or their minds wouldn't be on the job at hand.

"We should split up. You go to the shore and ask around about the boat. I'll see about getting us another set of motorbikes. We'll meet back here when the sun sets."

She got the feeling he was avoiding her, "okay sure."

He went back into the bathroom to change. He put on black jeans, a blue t-shirt. He wore his boots, instead of sandals. Then nodded at her, took some dong currency and left. She watched the street and saw him whistle for a Tuk Tuk.

Hawkeye hadn't said anything to her about what she'd done to him the other night. Maybe he thought she didn't remember. Or he was waiting for her to say something. Either way, he had totally just ditched her. She sighed and put on her comfy shoes, there was work to do. She too took some dong and strapped on an ankle knife. After cloaking their gear like she had in Thailand and putting the remaining dong in the room safe, she locked up and left.

Meanwhile Barton went straight to the massage parlour and got the deluxe package. Two women worked on him, until he was completely relaxed. He appreciated how skilled they were and left a huge tip. Now he could focus on his job and treat Natasha like just another agent. Everywhere there were mopeds and motorbikes. He had no problem purchasing two bikes and arranging for them to be delivered at sunset to the hotel. Checking a map, he took a Tuk Tuk to Ben Nghe Port. The trip was only 25 minutes. There were a few cruise ships, ferries and a bunch of personal boats. Since the locals were use to tourists, some spoke english. At the Hanayuki Restaurant he found out that no go-fast boats had been seen that month. He travelled south along the channel down Hoang Dieu road. This area is where the shipping containers were stored and had the loading docks. The few people he could talk to, knew nothing. Another Tuk Tuk ride took him to the cau Tan Thuan bridge, where he got off and watched the channel for an hour. He recognized the shipping and ferry patterns. As it grew later in the day, he took a taxi back to the hotel. At the front desk he was told where the motorbikes were and given the keys. Then he went up the stairs to the room.

"It's about time you got back," Natasha said in greeting.

He raised an eyebrow, "what's up?"

"Nothing," she said.

From her tone of voice, he could tell she was cranky. He tossed her a set of motorbike keys. "The streets around here are crazy packed with traffic. I check out some of the loading docks after I arranged for the bikes. No one has seen any go-fast boats. How'd you do?"

"Same. Either they're too scared to talk or nothing is here. But I say we should go to the rich end of town. That's where I would hide a go-fast boat; among others. Lush is a dance club, where the rich people go. It's sandwiched between the japanese district and the riverside botanical gardens."

"I want to eat first."

"Okay. We should go to Lush tonight. Since it's Tuesday and ladies night, which means free drinks for me until midnight."

He rolled his eyes. So she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. "Alright I'm coming. We'll take the bikes."

Feeling dangerous, Natasha said with a straight face, "let's just ride together. I'll be the passenger."

He shot her a look, but her face showed nothing. He had a feeling that she was messing with him, but he just shrugged it off. "Alright, let's go."

Behind his back she smirked. The devil in her was working hard tonight. When agent Barton got on the bike and she mounted behind him, for just a moment she put her hand on his thigh. She pretended to use it for balance to get comfortable on the seat. She felt his leg twitch under her hand.

"Okay ready," she said into his ear. They didn't have to use helmet's here.

When her lips brushed his ear, he knew then that Natasha was playing games. He'd ignore her, which he knew would get under her skin. Still he liked the feeling of her holding on to his waist. Two could play this game and he planed to play it so everyone won. There was one thing he had that she didn't and that was patience.

They had diner, then rode back to the hotel to change. He put on black dress pants and a white dress shirt. Natasha put her hair up and came out wearing a short, flashy black dress and little black heals. She accessorized with a diamond and emerald choker.

"Going to work your magic on the men tonight in that number," Clint complimented.

She twirled around for him, the fabric rose up on her thighs. "So you approve?"

"Like you need to ask," he replied.

"Did you call a taxi?"

"It's waiting for us."

She nodded and took his offered arm. Then they left. "I know you will like this club. The top floor is an open balcony."

Once in Lush, they got drinks and then walked around, checking it out. As 10pm came and went, the place got packed. Barton left Natasha on the dance floor and went to the balcony. He was only sitting there a few minutes alone, when a blond asian sat down beside him.

"Hi are you having fun?"

"Finding someone who speaks english is nice," Clint flashed her a smile.

"You're American?"

He nodded, "on vacation and looking for some excitement."

"Like what?"

"I like go-fast boat racing."

She frowned, "go-fast?"

He described it to her. "Also called cigarette boat or ocean speedboat."

Comprehension came to her eyes. "Oh. My friends might know some guys into that. Those boats are expensive."

He winked at her. "Want to dance?"

She finished her drink and stood up. "Sure," she held her hand out to him.

They went down a flight of stairs and onto the crowded dance floor. On his way down the stairs, he had caught a glimpse of Natasha. She was dancing with two guys in expensive designer cloths. On the dance floor his blond girl, ground her ass up against his crotch. Dirty dancing was an understatement. Even though he didn't dance often, he knew how to and was good at it. The girl manoeuvred them to her group of friends. The girls sandwiched him and were pretty free with where they put their hands. But they weren't trying to pick-pocket him.

The attention they were giving her partner, made Natasha a little jealous. But she wasn't there for pleasure, she reminded herself, she had a job to do. She lead her target off the dance floor. They went to the balcony for fresh air and a few drinks. Shortly after she noticed that agent Barton, came to the balcony with three girls and one guy.

Clint winked at Natasha and then said to his group, "I'm in town just this week. So if you want to set up a race…"

The blond said, "come on Long you know guys who want to."

Long looked the American over and saw the expensive watch and ring he wore. "Let's put a wager on it."

They discussed entry amounts, boat requirements and restrictions and logistics. Once everything was settled, then Long gave the American his cell number. The girls were excited about the race and scattered to tell their friends.

Clint shook the asian guy's hand, "friday night it is. Cheers." They clinked glasses and downed their shots. Then Long left.

Natasha had worked as much information out of her suitor and ditched him. She approached agent Barton. "Sounds like you'll be making a special request to Fury."

"Did you have any luck?"

She nodded negatively. "What time is it?"

He looked at his watch, "three am."

"My feet are killing me, are you ready to go?"

"Sure."

As they began to leave, the blond asian girl came and grabbed his arm. "Don't go, the party just started," she said drunkenly. Her other hand rested on his chest.

"I'll be here Thursday night honey. I'll save you a dance," Clint said.

Natasha became possessive. She put her arm around his waist and not so subtly blocked the asian from getting closer to him. The girl pouted, but let him go. They made their escape and hailed a taxi. As Natasha went to get into the cab, a drunk guy pushed her out of the way and got in. He set her off balance and she fell into Barton She yelled profanity in vietnamese at the cab stealer.

"Are you okay?"

"Shit I broke the heal of my shoe!"

He waived over a new cab and they got in. Natasha broke the heal off the other shoe, hoping that she could then still walk up the stairs when they got to their hotel. But no such luck. Again she swore in the local language.

"Relax, I'll just carry you up the stairs." Clint sighed and then picked her up. He'd been doing this a lot lately.

She put her arms around his neck to hold on. "Thank you."

"Can you get the door?"

She took the key card out of his chest pocket. Once inside the room, he put her down. Then untucked his shirt and took off his shoes. He got a bottle of water and went out on the balcony. Natasha followed after changing into her pjs.

"Good night," he said then went into the room and changed in the bathroom. He got into his bed and turned out the night stand light.

Again he was ignoring her. She missed her friend. That part of him seemed to be turned off suddenly. Had she pushed him too far with her little game? These and other questions roamed her mind when she went to sleep in her own bed. It caused her sleep to be restless and then a nightmare slammed into her mind.

She couldn't move her limbs, they were numb. Her mind was awake, but her body wouldn't respond. There was a person in the room with her, she watched as they came forward. She couldn't see the face, because the light was too bright behind them. She tried to talk and found her mouth wouldn't move, she couldn't even scream. What kind of hell was this? Cold, deathly hands touched her body. The way they violated her, made her want to kill.

"Natasha wake up!" Clint shook her.

At last she woke up, shaking in fright. "Hawkeye?"

"Yes it's me. You're safe."

She realized her hands were clutching his shirt. Natasha let go suddenly, wrapping her arms around her legs as she drew them up to her chest.

"Do you remember what your dream was about?"

She did, but she couldn't tell him. Not yet. "No," she lied.

"Talk to me Nat," he said gently, "it will help." He sat beside her, leaning against the headboard waiting. His shoulder and arm touched her, offering comfort without intruding her space.

"I'm eighteen… I'm in the facility… I can't move, but my mind is aware…" She began to rock slightly, the movement somehow comforting. "Cold hands, they…. I can't Clint. I just can't." She got up and went to the balcony.

He followed her, when he came up behind her, she whirled ready to fight. He waited until she backed up and sat down in a chair. Then he sat down across from her. "I'm here for you when you want to talk, you know that. No judgement from me." He saw her nod.

They sat in silence a while. Then she eventually said, "I'll be okay in the morning. Don't tell Fury that I lost it, when you report to him. Focusing on work helps."

"I won't."

She stood back up and sighed. "Sorry I woke you."

"Nat, do you trust me?"

"Yes."

He noticed no hesitation with her answer. "Do you trust me with your life?"

"More than I trust myself."

Clint wasn't sure what that meant. "When you go back to sleep, just listen to my voice." It was a trick he had learned working in the circus. It was a form of hypnosis.

"Okay, but I'm not sure if I can go back to sleep."

They returned to their respective beds. He began talking, describing her compound on the island. Then he painted a picture with his words about her walking with the dogs. The calm tone in conjunction with the monotony of his voice, worked. When he stopped talking and listened to the silence in the room, he could hear her breathing normally. Even though she didn't know it, Natasha had taken a big step forward in over coming her past. She had finally begun to talk to someone about it. He was just glad, that she trusted him finally, to open up. One step at at time.

CHAPTER #9

The next couple of days they rode around the city, trying to find a lead on the boat, the driver or even the missing scientist. Frustration began to set in. Nick Fury finally approved the go-fast boat for Hawkeye's race at the end of the week. The race would go out to the Spratly Islands and back. There were seven boats that were participating in the race. It was $312,750,000 dong or $15 000 USD entry fee.

Natasha looked at Barton when they picked up the go-fast boat from another S.H.E.I.L.D. agent and went for a ride. "Have you ever raced one of these boats?"

"Not personally been the driver, but as part of the crew."

"Really, when?"

Clint grinned at her, "I had a life too before I became an agent. Before I met you." He opened the throttle and they shot down the channel towards open ocean.

Natasha sat down in the co-pilot seat and put on the seat belt. The black boat sliced through the waves, better than any other speedboat she'd been on. When they caught air going over a big wave, it made her nervous, but gave an exhilarating feeling too.

"What's so difficult about this? The power of the boat does all the work."

"Take the wheel and give it a try," Clint said.

She did as he said and they then changed places. Then she felt it, to hold the boat on course, required skill. The waves wanted to tip them over. She gave the wheel back to him.

"When there is wake from another boat, especially when there is one on each side of you, it's really hard to keep her steady. Learning to take the best path, with least resistance is part of the skill. Then knowing when to use your throttle and gas mixture, all factor into it."

To prove his point he followed the wake left by a cruise ship and it felt like being hit by a battering ram. He steered them clear and headed back inland. Going up the channel, he reduced the speed considerably. They cruised to a dock that was along the Ton Duc Thang. This is where they tied off the boat and paid off the dock manager.

"So does this make me part of your crew?" Natasha asked.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

She nodded. "Are we going back to Lush tonight? If I recall correctly, a blond asian is waiting for you to dance with her."

He looked at his partner. Did he detect a little jealousy in her tone? With a straight face he answered, "I have to go, since Long and his buddies will be there to finalize race details. You don't have to come if you want to go elsewhere."

"No that's fine. I liked that place. And it's not often I get to have this kind of fun on a job," Natasha winked.

"Keep your eyes out for Russians or anyone else who looks out of place. If our friends want a way out of Ho Chi Min city without drawing too much attention, then they'll want to get information on the race tomorrow night."

"Should we pack our gear and put it in the boat, incase we see the HYDRA agents or the Russians and have to pursue?" She asked.

"Good idea. We should check out tomorrow morning too," Clint said.

They got on their dirt bikes and rode back to the hotel. For once they didn't race each other. There was so much traffic; cars, humans, bicycles and mopeds. It took them longer than expected to get back to the hotel. Agent Barton talked to the front desk and arranged to exchange the motorbikes for a car. They would need a vehicle to take their gear to the boat, after the club, that night. Both checked their things and packed what they wouldn't need to go to the club. The rest would be done when they returned in the early am. Agent Romanoff reported in to S.H.E.I.L.D. and then they went sight seeing, to kill time.

Out of the blue Natasha said, "thanks for calming me down last night. I did end up falling asleep."

"No problem. It's a trick I learned when I was in the circus. The magician's assistant… man she was so sexy and flexible. Anyway she was also a hypnotist and she taught me some tricks."

Natasha gave him a sour look, "you hypnotized me?"

"Not really, it's more of a method of meditation. I use it to calm people down. Helps when they're freaked out and you're trying to get information out of them."

"Does it work on yourself or just other people?"

"Do you want me to teach you how to do it? You can try it on yourself, I've never had to," Clint said.

She nodded. "Thanks."

They went to sit at a local bar for a drink and a snack. Since she seemed to be open to conversation, he decided to see if she'd talk about her dream. "Do you want to try and tell me what the dream was about?"

Natasha looked at her drink and played with it. She didn't know if she could face it, even with his help. "When they were training us, things they put us through, some of it destroyed people and others we just wanted to kill everyone." She paused and downed her drink, signalling the waiter for another. "I don't remember half of the stuff they did before I was sixteen, I guess I blocked it out. But a lot of the training has become like a reflex, so ingrained into me at an early age."

Clint noticed her hands turn to fists, "take your time, we have lots of it." His calm tone encouraged her, because he knew if he put a hand on her, she'd break it in seconds.

She took a deep breath, looking in his eyes. She saw no pity, just calm strength. "The dream always starts out the same. I can't move, like my body is immobilized by drugs and not just with the tie downs on my legs and arms. My mind is awake and alert, but I can't even talk or scream. Someone comes, I can't see his face. He's…. He's touching me with cold hands…."

Natasha stands up, wanting to hit something, wanting to run away, wanting to kill. All she sees is Barton, in front of her and she hears his voice, almost like he's far away and she's in a tunnel. Her breathing is loud in her ears. Slowly she regains control of herself and she sits back down.

Clint is still talking, "you are safe and no one is hurting you. See me Natasha, hear me. That's it, just breath in and out, focus on your breathing, nice and slow."

The wild look in Natasha's eyes slowly went away and he knew she was back, no longer reliving the hell that gripped her mind. He was surprised when she grab his hand and even more so, when she continued telling him about the dream.

"His hands hurt and they touch me intimately. And it's not like a doctor's touch, he wants me to know he's enjoying it. He want's to break me mentally. Then the light shifts and I see his face, he's grinning and he says something….but that's when I woke up."

Her hand is gripping his like he's anchoring her to this world. It is strong, yet she is shaking. Clint's thumb caresses her hand. "If I hadn't woken you, do you still wake up on your own or does it continue? Do you ever hear what he says?"

Natasha's mind was raw, she barely could think. She felt his thumb and focused on the circular motion it was doing on her hand. Her voice trembled, "yes I've heard what he says."

Clint stood up and drew her up to stand. Then he took her in his arms and held her. She didn't cry, but he could feel her whole body tremble. "Thank you for sharing with me."

She at first was stiff in his arms, but then she realized because of his strength, she felt safe and protected. The trembling stopped, but Natasha wasn't ready to let go. This was more intimate than if they had just had sex. Her mind was raw and he knew it, but helped her instead of abusing that power over her. Finally she stepped out of his arms, her normal self back.

"Waiter, a round of shots over here please."

They sat down and slammed back two shots each, in quick succession. Barton joked around with her and got her laughing and smiling. Eventually it reached her eyes too. After a bite to eat, they paid their bill and left. They had been at the bar much longer than it had seemed. The sun had set and the night had creeped in.

"Even after a few shots of liquor, I still drive better than the locals." Clint laughed and honked his horn at the car in front of them.

Natasha swore in vietnamese at the offending driver. Then said, "if we end up coming back here, I'll teach you a few key swear words."

They both smiled. The distance that Natasha had felt growing between her and Barton, was gone. Back was her friend and partner. Once back at the hotel, he sat on the balcony while she took over the bathroom to change. He was amazed that she had shown him her vulnerability and not killed him. He hoped this assignment gave them more time together, so he could help her with these nightmares.

"I'm all done. Bathroom's yours," Natasha said.

He turned around and stood up, his eyes roaming over her from head to toe. His smile said everything. "Nice dress."

She smirked. "Thanks, the feel of it on my skin is amazing."

He raised an eyebrow and took her into his arms. He twirled her around and dipped her. "You're right. I recall a different dress you wore, that was similar."

"Very observant of you Mr. Hawkeye," she teased.

"Baby, it's just Hawkeye," he drawled in his best grand gentleman voice.

She playfully punched him in the arm. Then went to wait for him out on the balcony. Thirty minutes later he announced he was ready too. He wore dark dress pants and a dark dress shirt. He opened the door to the car for her and she got in. Then they drove to Lush. It was only nine in the evening, but they needed to arrive early to get a parking spot. They danced one latin-salsa hip pop song together, then split up. Soon the blond asian found Barton. She lead him to the guy setting up the race.

"Long," Clint said in greeting, holding out his hand.

Long shook it and got straight down to business. He took the money from all the participants, as he was not racing, just organizing the race. They would all meet at his marina and start the race out on the water. The race would begin at 6pm sharp. Anyone arriving late would just have to catch up to the other racers. Only participants who had bought into the race, could win the purse. Long gave them the directions to his marina.

"Excuse me gentleman, but that lady over there is just begging to meet me." Long departed and walked towards Natasha.

"Now will you come dance," the blond asian asked.

Clint smiled, "I'm all yours."

As they walked down the stairs to the dance floor, he did notice two white guys that looked out of place. They held drinks, but never drank. They watched some of Long's friends that were in the race, but never talked them. He manoeuvred the blond closer to the men, trying to see if their wrists had the HYRDA tattoo. Unfortunately they went upstairs. He needed to get to Natasha, so she could go to work and find out if his hunch was right.

"Honey, I am going up top to get a drink and cool off. I'll find you in a bit." Clint planted a quick kiss on the blond's painted lips.

She practically swooned and made sure her hand lingered on his biceps. "If you don't come back in ten minutes, I'll go find you."

He nodded and ditched her. On the second level, he saw Natasha and nodded at her to come talk. She went to the bar and he stood beside her. "Two men, possibly HYDRA agents are watching Long's racing buddies. See if they are our guys. Both are tall, shaved heads, one has a gold watch, the other silver, both are Rolex. One has a grey suit on, the other is wearing a blue pin stripe. When you turn around one is at six o'clock, the other at 3." He paid for a beer and then left, maintaining eye contact on Natasha.

As soon as Natasha made contact with the silver watch guy, the gold watch man left. Agent Barton went up to the roof and soon saw the man waiting in a dark car. There was no license plate on it. But that didn't worry him. He went down the back stairs into the alley. From his pocket, he pulled out a tracking device. Very carefully agent Barton snuck up on the car from behind and attached the tracker to the underside of the bumper. Then he melted back into the shadows and went up the fire escape. Once back on the roof, he checked to make sure his target hadn't noticed him. Then he went to find Natasha. She was still talking to the other guy. The guy got a phone call on his cell, then left.

"All I got was that he is here for a boat race. I asked him if it's the one that Long organized for tomorrow at six and he said yes. Shortly after that he left," Natasha reported.

"I put a tracker on their car. Shall we go see where they are going?" Clint asked.

"Quick kiss me, your blond is coming."

Clint did as she said, kissing Natasha with passion. Then he nuzzled her neck, "did it work, is she gone?"

"Yes. You should've seen how disappointed she was. Poor girl, you heartbreaker." Natasha teased him, but her lips still felt his kiss. She almost wished that the girl hadn't given up so easy, just so that Clint would kiss her again.

He ignored her teasing and took her hand, weaving in and out of people to the door. Then they went back to their car. Inside was the gps tracker and a headset to report back to the airship. Agent Hill responded and said they would track the car, but that agent Barton and agent Romanoff, should not follow it. Agent Hill told them to go pack their gear and take it to the boat. Then they were told to go back to their hotel and get rest, as the pair of them would be racing tomorrow.

They did as they were instructed. After changing into their agent uniform, they packed everything, except stuff that would fit in a backpack. They drove down to the dock and put their stuff on the boat, below in the hull cabin. Once locked up, they returned to the hotel. Both changed into shorts and t-shirts, but just sat out on the balcony. Neither said anything, but it was relaxed and comfortable silence. The city noises were everywhere.

"My ears are still ringing from that club. Sometimes I really hate the city," Natasha mused.

"I know what you mean. So are you ready for the next stage of this adventure?" Clint asked.

She shrugged, "sure. I've had enough of this city. I need some action."

"I think we'll get lucky tomorrow and find that boat from Thailand."

The agents discussed the operation a little longer and then both turned in. He listened to her breathing and noticed that she had a nightmare, as she was fighting her blanket. But he didn't wake her. He wanted to see if the dream broke or if she woke herself up.

When she moaned in her sleep Clint spoke to her."Natasha you're safe, I'm here."

"Hawkeye…" she mumbled.

"Yes I've got your back, relax."

She rolled over, still asleep. He watched her and saw that she no longer struggled with the blankets. He smiled and then after ten minutes of listening to her even breathing, he too finally fell asleep.