A Still Small Voice
Chapter 7
A/N: So, I am back with more chapters! Didn't mean for it to be so long between, but I wanted to get a few chapters into Can't Protect Against Yourself (shameless plug, check) before I added over here. Now, if you are reading CPAY and do not wish to be spoiled about the outcome (no details, just general), Turn Back! Now that that is done, the chapters from here on out will be post-CPAY, as well as post-Clint/Natasha established relationship. Therefore, the tone of the discussions may be a bit, ehm, romantical. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: *scratches lottery ticket* Dang! Guess I still don't. Boo.
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"Three whole weeks, Tash! Three! No missions, no meetings. A real break…at the same time." Clint peered down into the hotel lobby from a balcony window to where Natasha was sitting. "All you have to do is get rid of the baggage and we are off the clock."
The "baggage" was a high value asset wringing his hands as he sat in the chair opposite his beautiful partner. They had rescued the man from his understandably irate former employer, who had hoped to eliminate him and the information stored within his balding head. And who said working for human traffickers didn't have perks. Now all they had to do was hand the twerp over to the Asset Management team for processing and they were on leave. And of course, A.M. was late.
"Where the hell are they? Damnit." There was a subtle twitch of Natasha's lips, and a not-so-subtle roll of her eyes, at his whiney tone. "So where are we going to go? We still haven't decided. What about an island? Sun. Sand. Rolling around together in the waves."
Natasha shifted in her seat, hands seeming to fret as she straightened her top, at least to a stranger's eye. Clint read her signal loud and clear, though. "Fine, no sand. Gets in unfortunate places, anyway. What about a villa in the south of France? Very peaceful. Stark even offered to loan us his jet." Again, Natasha nixed his idea.
Clint's one-sided vacation planning was interrupted when he spotted two men hovering just inside the hotel entrance. "At your 8'oclock, black suit and grey suit. Lingering I bit long, running facial recognition." Clint captured their images and uploaded to SHIELD. Within a few moments, the men came back clean and Clint turned back to his partner.
He had just come up with another destination when the two A.M. agents entered the lobby, walking in looking for all the world like they weren't over two hours late. "Pick up is here. Breaking down and packing up." Clint began to stow his bow in its case as he saw Nat handing over the paperwork and their charge, who seemed to have calmed somewhat now that he was no longer in the custody of someone he so obviously feared.
When he looked up again, Natasha, as well as the pick-up team, were no longer in view. His eyes danced around the room, to the elevators, but still couldn't spot her. "Nat? Where did you go?...Nat?" He was beginning to wonder if something had gone sideways when he sensed her presence just behind him. He turned with a smile, until he saw the look on her face.
Heat flared in him as her eyes slid over his body then she reached out and pushed him into the chair just behind him. She slid into his lap, leaned over him, lips to his ears and blew softly.
"For the next three weeks, we will locking ourselves in your apartment, and I don't intend to come out until we have….explore the possibilities… of every available surface. Does this plan meet with your approval?" Clint had a difficult time breathing as he nodded enthusiastically. She slipped out from under his now roaming hands, and sashayed towards the door, pausing to glance over her shoulder, eyebrow quirked.
"And I think three weeks will be enough time for me to punish you." He shifted his eyes away from her ass when her words finally computed in his blood-starved brain. "You talked to Stark. Not a good decision. But I promise not to go too hard on you." She smirked and darted her eyes down his body. "Now don't forget your gear. I'll get the car."
Natasha pulled the door closed, leaving Clint still panting in the chair.
"Shit." He shook his head, and then began to grin.
Clint jumped up quickly, grabbed his gear, and scurried out the door, eager to catch up (but definitely not get ahead of) his partner. This was going to be good. "Shiiiiiiit."
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A/N: Soooo. What you think? It is my birthday week, so I have a birthday wish. I want reviews filled with your fav Clint/Natasha stories. I need you guys to keep me in awesome fiction. I also would love to hear what you think about this new aspect of their relationship! And if you want to know how they got here, feel free to check my other fic. Hint. ;) Hope you enjoyed! See you soon!
