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Thanks for your alerts and favourites and wonderful reviews! So it's reunion time for the two master assassins. Hope you enjoy it :)
Coulson made his way into Clint's room and tapped on the steel bar of the top bunk. "Director Fury has requested your presence back at HQ."
"Finally," Clint breathed as he rose into a seated position on the bed. He stretched his neck from side to side in an effort to loosen the stiffness in his muscles.
"You were expecting the transfer?"
"I asked for it."
Coulson frowned and blinked. "Since when did Fury start abiding by your orders?" He folded his arms across his chest and tried his best to keep his simmering temper under control.
The usually unflappable agent was already under enough stress with the appearance of a certain 'Donald Blake' character, and now he was facing the loss of one of his best agents.
"I've got a date." Clint winked and a devilish smirk lit up his face. He jumped down from the bunk, landing with two feet flat on the floor, and swooped underneath the bunk to grip his bow.
"A date?" Coulson asked with surprised eyes. "You just came off the injury list! You're not in the position to be making requests for extra-curricular activities."
Clint responded simply with a shrug of his shoulders. He knew well that Natasha had worked her magic and convinced the Director to let him return to New York. How she pulled that off, he would never know.
"Wait a minute, you have been itching to get an assignment on your hands for weeks, and now that you have one, you're itching to go again? 'Cause you've got a date?"
Clint thinned his lips in thought but remained silent. He broke eye contact with the older agent, grabbed his duffel and began to pack away the rest of his clothes. Coulson watched Clint carefully through narrowed eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again but Clint bet him to it.
"Listen, I was stuck on that injury list for nearly two months and the minute I get cleared for duty I get handed this lackluster assignment. I'm sick of waiting around, aiming at guys who chance their arm at lifting that hammer."
"You're a marksman, Clint. That's your job! You watch, wait, shoot and shut up!"
It was ironic really, Coulson thought. It was seldom that Clint did any of those things he listed.
"Coulson," Clint glared and swallowed thickly before he began, "I want some adrenaline for a change. I want to be aiming at guys who deserve to be aimed at, not at some hooligans who happen to stumble upon that hammer and try to find out the amount of testosterone they possess. I want to be out in the field again. I want to be back with—"
"You want to be with Romanoff again, don't you?" Coulson finished the sentence that Clint knew he couldn't.
Clint recognised that he was treading on some dangerous territory here. Having relationships with co-workers was a no-go area, incessantly reiterated in the holy grail of SHIELD guidelines and protocols.
Nope. Nada. Bad idea. Compromised feelings-yada yada yada. He had heard it all before.
"You don't think I see it, Clint?" Coulson continued when Clint didn't respond right away. "The way you look at her. The way she looks at you—pardon the clíche." The archer lowered his eyes to the floor but his stance and shoulders remained square. "For two people whose jobs revolve around being subtle," Coulson added, shaking his head, "you guys really take the cake."
Clint shot Coulson a glare and he clenched his jaw. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir." His voice remained unwavering but the flicker in his eyes revealed his lies.
"Of course you don't," Coulson replied with a subtle nod, sending the archer a knowing glint with his eyes.
Clint and Natasha were adults and Coulson knew that they were both professional enough to know when to leave their relationship out of the job. He let out a sigh, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache starting to brew. "Just—" he started, sighing heavily, "just keep it professional, okay?"
Clint nodded silently in response, recognising that the older agent meant well. He knew he could trust Coulson to keep it to himself until they were ready to let others know. A moment lingered between them, dispelling any heat that had arisen during their exchange.
Clint licked his lips. "I have to go." He tightened his grip around the bow, side-stepping the older agent, and ventured towards the door. "Let me know how you get on with 'Donald'," he added before dashing down the corridor to make his escape.
Coulson turned to see his agent off. "Hey, you better enjoy these next few days, Barton, 'cause I'm gonna make sure Fury gives you one hell of an assignment once you get back."
"Yeah, yeah.." the archer replied nonchalantly as he continued his trek.
New York
Clint approached her bedroom door and noted the peek of light that escaped, drawing a thin streak across the floor. He spied her, through the gap, cleaning her deadly collection of weapons, facing away from him. The array of knives and guns were laid out in a strategic pattern on the bed, awaiting to be cleaned by her nimble fingers. She was barefoot, wearing her faded jeans and a jade green vest top.
Clint inched the door open a little more and moved silently towards her, barely letting his feet pad the floor. He knew from the get-go it had been a futile move, already knowing that her keen ears would sense every movement. She was always ready for any fleeting attack that might befall her, always ready to pounce like the spider she was named after. For as long as he'd known her she'd always been like that. Anyone who tried to sneak up on Natasha was as good as dead.
Natasha's ears pricked in anticipation as soon as she felt his presence outside the room. Over the years, she had become attuned to his footsteps, his movements, his breathing rhythm, his distinctive scent. But she remained still and continued her inspection of her weapon.
"Hey handsome.." she whispered as soon as she felt his breath tickle the back of her neck.
Clint hugged her back, snaking his arms around her, encapsulating her into his embrace. He pushed past her long curls and placed his head in the crook of her neck. "Hey," he whispered softly into her ear.
"Flight okay?" She turned her head to the side slightly and sagged into his chest. She dropped the gun on the bed.
"Fine." He nuzzled into her neck and enveloped himself in her scent, inhaling sweetly.
Natasha allowed her eyes to close in contentment. It felt so good to have him home. She let her head drop back when he started nipping at her neck with his lips. She gnawed her at lip absently when he hit the ticklish spot just behind her ear. "New Mexico interesting?" she rasped, teasing and distracting him with her words.
Clint chuckled into her neck. "Nat, the last thing I wanna do right now is talk about New Mexico."
"Well, what do you suggest we do then?" she teased once more, arching an eyebrow suggestively.
"I want you," he kissed her neck, "and I," he grinned, kissing her again, "to continue what we started two months ago in that safe house."
Natasha chuckled, "I'm not a very patient woman, Barton, so you better get started."
Clint spun her around so that their bodies meshed perfectly against one another. He placed his hands on her neck and pressed his lips to hers with hungry force. Natasha instantly melted into his embrace, moving her hands so that they rested against his back, and pulled him more bodily towards her. Their kisses deepened and Clint responded with vigour, moving his hands to settle on her waist once again. He let out a breathy chuckle as he lifted her up against him, surprised at how delicate she felt in his grip.
Natasha allowed a deep hum to escape her lips as she felt herself being lifted by his strong, athletic arms. She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist in response, holding herself securely against his solid frame. Lazily, she allowed her hands to wander to the nape of his neck and began dragging them through his soft hair, massaging the back of his scalp lightly.
Clint walked them over to the bed, pushing her weapons away as he dropped down her with ease, her hair bouncing lightly as she landed on the sheets. Her curls spread themselves out in a halo around her head, highlighting her pale skin in contrast to the blazing red.
Natasha couldn't suppress the giggle that came out of her when Clint pulled away from her lips and smiled thoughtfully at her. "What?" she asked with a breathy laugh, shifting so that she was propping herself up on her elbows.
"Nothing.." he shook his head slightly as if trying to dispel distracting thoughts that had accumulated in his mind. "I just love it when you laugh...I missed that. I missed hearing you laugh."
Her heart fluttered in her chest as he maintained his piercing gaze, watching her like the hawk he had long been associated with. She allowed her lips to curl into a seductive smile in return. Clint flashed another white smile before leaning down to capture her lips again. Her arms pulled him towards her once more, her bruising grip snaking under his t-shirt, tightening around his muscled frame.
End of Chapter 5