A/N Ahh you beautiful, beautiful people. You have all been so incredibly kind to follow my story, favourite me and write reviews. I am incredibly grateful and humbled by your kind words. I know that the Clintasha loveliness was lacking a tad in my last chapter so, in thanks for your continued support and because, let's face it... it's what we all want to see, I offer you the following chapter to redress the balance and fan those flames of lust we know Tash is fighting (badly).

Stand by with the fire extinguisher.

Elf x

They had made their way through the ventilation shafts to the outside of the building undetected and with no incident.

'Listen to me.' Barton said quietly as he hung out from the rope next to her. 'You can do this. I am here with you. You said you trusted me?'

Opening her eyes Hannah moved her head to look down again, Barton stopped her with a touch of his hand on her cheek. 'Don't look down.' He instructed.

Swallowing again, the girl nodded.

'I need you to turn to your left and take the rope in both hands.'

Nodding Hannah complied. Shinning down the rope two feet, Clint stopped.

'Lean back so that you are holding the rope with your feet on the edge. I will be right here.'

Once the girl had shakily complied, Hawkeye took the weight as she sat on his shoulders. 'Hand over hand we move down the wall... no need to rush, I have you... ok?' Slowly they made their way to the ground. Once on terra firma Hannah threw her arms around the archer. He patted her back awkwardly. Despite what Tash had asked him to do, Clint was fairly certain Hannah had simply acted out of fear.

He wasn't comfortable trying to get information through making faux love to someone. It was all right for the Black Widow, she could switch it on and off in the blink of an eye. No man would ever suspect the Russian spy was actually repulsed by his advances as she smiled. Clint was more transparent. The blonde agent was nice enough but he knew he couldn't be a convincing lover for any woman unless he genuinely desperately wanted her.

Natasha tried not to think about what she had asked Clint to do. It was merely to gain information, something she did all the time, but the idea of Clint in that situation was unsettling and the discomfort wouldn't quite leave her. The thought of him even flirting with Foster still smarted, let alone if he had to actually seduce the girl.

During their partnership she often used to tease him about his lack of accomplishments in that department. She declared that if they ever met a mark who preferred men they would be in big trouble. Her partner took the jibes in good part. He was straightforward, a soldier, not a spy. His skills lay with his weapons or logistics or combat or anything that didn't involve the whispering of bogus sweet nothings into some profitable ear. Despite knowing Clint had no interest in Foster, a fairly recent insight into the proficiency he had been hiding did nothing to alleviate her irritation. She was beginning to wish she had just asked him to torture the truth out of Foster instead.

'I need you to come over here and try to seduce me.'

'Excuse me?' Clint coughed discreetly over the com system. 'You need me to do what?'

The couple were undercover separately at a gala in the Saudi Embassy in Paris. Natasha was trying to get close to a Saudi dignitary however, so far, the mark had shown definite interest in her but had yet to make his move. She wanted to give the fat oaf a gentle push and there was nothing like the attentions of another man to help things along.

'I know it's a big ask. Just do your best.' She hissed before cutting the link.

There had been no visual contact between them so far this evening. The party was so awash with international movers and shakers and the agents' attentions had been diverted independently, the only communication between them being the one Natasha had just made.

She stood on her own sipping from her champagne glass and making sure she was in full view of her target as she waited for Barton to find her. It shouldn't be too difficult; she had dressed to be noticed. Her hair was currently jet black curls. It had been wound high on her head with only the occasional tendrils to soften her jaw line. The long evening gown was in duck egg blue fitted silk. The front was plain to enhance her figure but the back plunged in a deep V that ended just above the curve of her buttocks. It was an outfit designed to draw attention.

She became aware of a slight disturbance in the crowd. Turning, she saw Barton standing completely transfixed, staring her way from across the room. It was rare she saw the archer in dinner jacket and black tie but she had to admit it with his broad shoulders and toned body, was an impressive sight. He began to walk purposefully towards her as the throng parted in his path. She couldn't help but notice several ladies turn to admire him as he strode across the room. She sometimes forgot that her partner was an extremely attractive man.

Clint stopped in front of her. There was something in his eyes as they locked with hers, a fire behind the storm grey that gave Natasha's stomach a small jolt.

'May I have the honour?' He asked holding out his hand.

'You may.' She replied with a practised smile.

Removing her glass, he deposited it with a passing waiter before taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.

With a quick glance Natasha checked that the dignitary was still watching. The man's interest had certainly been peaked with the sudden appearance of a handsome rival.

Still holding her hand, Clint encouraged her to twirl whilst he looked on in appreciation. 'Beautiful.' He murmured.

'Don't over do it.' She whispered as he took her in his arms. Saying nothing, Barton placed one hand on the small of her back, the other held hers. He did not press against her but rather made sure there was the barest space between them. With her hand on his shoulder she could feel the muscles moving beneath the jacket and she was suddenly very aware of her partner's powerful physique and intimate proximity as they moved with the music.

The hand on her back moved lower, inching down her spine. It came to rest at the base of her dress where cool fingers began to trace small spirals on her lower back. Every touch sent fireworks across her skin. At the same time she could feel his breath tickling against her ear. Her head was suddenly filled with nothing but him, his scent, his heat, his heartbeat in time with her own, everything else disappeared and, god help her, she melted against him.

She felt him smile as Clint dipped his head to the crook of her neck, his lips finding the sweet spot. Unconsciously Natasha arched her back as butterfly kisses were traced up her neck to the base of her ear.

'Absolute perfection.' He whispered as he nibbled the lobe, teasing it with his tongue. Natasha felt electric shocks pulse through her as her traitorous thoughts imagined what else he could do with that tongue.

'Ahem... may I cut in?'

Brought back to reality with a jolt, Natasha looked into the face of the dignitary. All around guests were staring, some open mouthed. It occurred to her that she and Barton had been virtually having sex on the dance floor.

Clint surveyed the interloper, the look on his face dark and possessive. She thought for a second he might say no, and at that moment, more than anything, she wanted him to. She could kill the Saudi herself for interrupting. With a curt nod Hawkeye finally assented. He took Natasha's hand in his own. Turning it over, he pressed his lips against the inside of her wrist. She knew he felt her racing pulse; it was certainly pounding in her ears...

'The pleasure was all mine.' He said throatily, before giving her hand to her new partner.

Recovering herself Natasha forced a smile for her target. As Clint stalked away she heard a lady in the crowd say dreamily, 'I wonder if he would dance with me.