They made their way to the open bar, which was only serving champagne, and ordered two glasses. The bartender didn't ask for ID (Natasha was about 3 years underage while Clint was only a few months), but she suspected their gracious host had instructed him not to.

"Hello there!" Speak of the devil, Natasha thought, and gave a nervous smile to the mustached man in front of her.

"Good evening," she said.

"And who might you lovely young couple be?" Osborne's eyes swept them up and down.

"I'm Robert Strong, and this is my wife Megan." Barton introduced again. Natasha smiled slightly; they hadn't planned on him introducing them to everyone, but it certainly was charming.

"Well, my dear Robert, you're a very lucky man. How long have you two been married?"

Natasha squeezed her fake husband's hand and beamed up at him. "Two months today."

The man raised his glass in their direction. "Then there's even more cause to celebrate!"

Natasha laughed and took a sip of champagne. She wished she could gag; she'd always hated the taste of it. "Someone at the door said you've just made a great business venture…is that what we're celebrating?"

Clint slid his eyes to her face, noting the directness of the question. Her body language sold her character so convincingly that Osborne didn't even blink. Her eyes may have been on the older man, but every other part of her was turned towards the archer.

If SHIELD didn't work out for Natasha, he'd push her to be an actress. He'd come up with a clever stage name for her…maybe something like "Scarlett" to compliment her hair?

"Indeed, my dear. I recently acquired ownership of a company I've been trying to buy out for years. I finally convinced the owner to sell it to me!" His laugh was cruel. The agents knew all about his recently purchased manufacturing company. Apparently the previous owner had died under "mysterious circumstances." It was just the latest in a long line of suspicious deaths all linked to Osborne.

The agents chatted with the older man for a few minutes before he left to converse with the other guests. They sipped their champagne quietly in the corner, occasionally speaking to each other or the other guests nearby. No one seemed to know anything about the cause of the celebration; they just showed up to make connections and be seen.

The night dragged on. They both went back for a second glass, but neither drank more than a few sips of it. Natasha's feet were cramped and blistered, and since she figured it was within her character to let some of the pain slip to her face, she did just that.

They decided to leave about an hour after the first few guests had begun to trickle out. Osborne shook Barton's hand and kissed Natasha's palm at the door.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Oh, yes!" Natasha said, and Clint wondered how she was able to make her eyes shine on command.

"I'm so glad. I'll make sure to put Mr. Strong and his beautiful wife on the permanent guest list." Natasha couldn't tell if he was serious or not, so she just assumed he was saying it to all the departing guests. "Now, Robert, you should take your wife to your room. She looks a little tired."

The older man smirked, and Natasha's cheeks colored with fake embarrassment. Clint also wondered how she could blush on command. He'd tried making her blush in earnest a few times, but he was never successful. It wasn't like he tried it often; he did value his life, and death was always close by when one tried to flirt with the Black Widow.

Natasha clung to his arm during the short walk to the hotel, tripping as though she was half intoxicated and half pained.

They checked in at the hotel lobby, waving to the few party guests they recognized in the lounge on their way to the elevator.

Natasha sagged against Barton immediately when the doors closed on the empty elevator. She knew there were cameras installed above them, but she felt this was appropriate for any woman to do after a long night.

Barton wrapped one arm around her waist and ran a hand through her hair, knocking a few of her pins out of place. She relaxed into his touch because it's what Megan would have done, and it actually felt very nice (not that she would ever admit that to him, or anyone else).

The silence of the hallway that greeted them when the doors opened was absolute, and they turned two corners before finding themselves at room 816. It had a small entry way that led into a decently-sized bedroom painted a tasteful hunter green color.

The two spies relaxed when the door shut behind them. Natasha immediately kicked the offending heels off her feet and flexed her toes up and down while Clint set to work removing his bowtie. Exhausted, he watched her carefully fold her shawl on the table and peek outside through the drapes before she finally entered the bathroom.

Clint kicked his own shoes off and pulled out a chair, idly gazing at the hotel's offered magazines and room service menu. His hand brushed against her shawl, and his eyes swept over a black spot on the wall right above it. One glance was enough to alert him that the spot did not belong on the wallpaper. He casually stretched and ran his eyes around the rest of the room, noticing for the first time that Natasha had left the bathroom door slightly ajar and was running the sink at full blast.

He put a faint grin on his lips and entered the small bathroom, shutting the door behind him. His expression turned business-like once they were truly alone for the first time in several hours.

"There's cameras, at least two."

"There are three." Natasha said without a trace of doubt. She sat on the edge of the bathtub, her dress bunched up around her. "One by the windows, one in the painting directly across from that, and one above the table."

Clint huffed and turned his head to the side, forcing himself not to feel irritated that she'd noticed before he had. "I guess now we know why Osborne so generously decided to give all his guests hotel rooms."

"He's either more paranoid than we thought, or he was expecting a few spies at this party." Natasha speculated.

"Maybe there are more than just us here." Clint suggested quietly, and the two thought for a moment in silence. "We're gonna have a hell of a job getting him tomorrow."

"Mhmm…" Natasha agreed. She abruptly stood up and turned around, indicating that she wanted Clint to unzipper the back of her dress. "So are you ready then?"

"For what?" he asked blankly, unzipping only half of the dress so she could finish the job herself in private.

"For continuing our job?" she raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you forget that we're a newly married couple, deeply in love, who have just had a wonderful night of drinking and socializing and now have nothing left in the night to look forward to besides an empty hotel room?"

Clint blinked.

Once.

Twice.

"You're talking about having sex."

Natasha looked at him like he was slow. "No, I thought we'd play a nice game of Parcheesi before bed."

The joke was actually worth a chuckle, but he couldn't seem to produce a sound.

She misinterpreted his hesitation. "Don't tell me you're a virgin."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not. I just-"

"Married couples have sex, Barton. It's not that strange."

"Yeah, actual married couples. Not fake ones who are only married for one night."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does the thought of having sex with me disgust you that much?"

"Don't play that card."

Natasha began plucking the pins from her hair, sending long red curls spiraling down past her shoulders. "Barton, I know this kind of thing isn't your specialty. But you're still an agent, and we still have a job to do. We've already been in this bathroom for too long, so pull yourself together."

Clint felt his temper rising. "Don't lecture me, Natasha. I'm sorry that casual sex isn't one of my pastimes."

"It's not casual sex- it's mission sex."

He stared at her. "Mission sex. You actually coined the term mission sex?"

He finally detected a rare trace of embarrassment on her face, and filed it away in his mental 'Natasha's facial expressions' folder.

"Sometimes you have to do things that defy your character, Barton. It doesn't change who you are."

"Don't lecture me!" He slammed his palm on the wall next to her head.

Something changed in her expression, and her eyes jumped from his hand to his eyes.

"Please, Clint. I can't fail a mission until I've gained everyone's trust."

It was probably the first time she'd ever used his first name. "Stellar acting. Really. I almost shed a tear."

Now she was angry. "It wasn't acting, asshole. Do you really think I'd be where I am right now if I wasn't trying to change? Do you really think I'd be suggesting this if I wasn't doing my job?"

Clint threw her earlier words right back in her face. "Does the thought of having sex with me really disgust you that much?"

"You are infuriating," she hissed in his face

They stayed like that a moment, each breathing angrily in the other's face.

Natasha tried the last tactic she could think of. "I promise you this won't change anything between us. No one will be wronged; no one's feelings will be hurt. We are simply our characters tonight."

He shut his eyes briefly. She wondered why he had such strong feelings against casual sex, and was surprised to find that she actually cared enough to be speculating on the matter. He was the closest thing she had to a friend, and he'd really grown on her the past few months.

"Okay," he said quietly, and Natasha's eyes snapped up to meet his. "On one condition."

"What?"

"We're partners from here on out. We work together, train together, and actually make an effort to get to know each other."

"Partners." She repeated, trying the word aloud.

"Partners." He agreed.

"Will we be getting matching uniforms?" she asked dryly, and he laughed. She decided he didn't have such a terrible smile. And then she noticed how close they'd been standing in the tiny room, and realized that she'd actually lost track of her body for a few minutes since she'd been so engrossed by responding to his.

"Can you dilate your pupils on command, too?" Clint had intended it to be a lighter comment, but it came out sounding very serious.

Her eyes were fixed on his mouth. "No."

Next chapter will be out in a week or less. Please review and share your thoughts!