The Budapest Objective

Six

Clint strapped the knife to his wrist, and rolled the sleeve of his suit back down. With any luck, he might even use it. He checked the ammo in his pistol. He couldn't conceal his bow well enough in his suit to not cause any suspicion, so it looked like he'd have to use guns and knives. 

Everything appeared to be ready. He hoped Natasha would finish soon...

It was barely a minute later when he heard the knock on his door. He walked over to the door, and opened it.

He was utterly shocked by the woman standing there in that blue dress. His mouth fell open, and he couldn't speak for a moment.

Natasha crossed her arms, and tapped her foot to the ground impatiently. “Any time you want to leave is okay with me.”

Clint swallowed hard. “Wow, you look…”

“If you say I look like an angel, I'm going to seriously hurt you.”

“You look amazing.”

Was he imagining things, or did Natasha blush slightly?

She never could take a compliment like that one without blushing slightly. With all the training she had received, she had never been complimented enough to be used to it. “So you... you think I look alright?”

“Alright? Natasha you look beautiful!”

She was rather taken aback by this. 'Beautiful'? Not ‘hot,’ not ‘sexy’; ‘beautiful.’

Clint noticed how genuine her smile was. He was reminded again of how much he loved that smile.

He suddenly remembered the gift he'd gotten her while they were out. While she was finding the dresses she liked, he'd ducked out and taken a walk. He'd found a store, and while they didn't have exactly the things she'd like, he'd seen something he thought he'd get for her anyway.

“Hey, I've got something for you,” Clint told her.

"Uh oh. Do I want to know what it is?" Natasha asked, skeptically.

"Yeah, I think you'll like it."

Clint walked over to his dresser, and took the box with her present in it in his hand.

Natasha's eyes fell on the box. The color drained from her face, as she though, Oh, God, he's going to purpose to me!

When he opened it, however, her worry was eased. He pulled out a delicate silver chain with a blood-red charm on it. The charm was in the shape of an hourglass.

"Clint, it's... it's beautiful," Natasha said, breathlessly.

"You really like it?" Clint asked, unsure.

Natasha walked slowly over to him, and took the necklace in her hand, looking at it with an expression of wonder.

Clint smiled at his beautiful partner. He knew that she rarely got gifts, and even then they were usually something like guns or tech or weapons. She'd never gotten something like this for no reason.

Natasha gazed at it, then handed it back to him and pretended to be indifferent. "It's nice, but shouldn't you have gotten something a little more practical?"

She knew it was no use the moment the words were out of her mouth. Clint had seen the happiness in her eyes, and he wasn't going to be fooled so easily.

"No, I think this is very practical."

Natasha looked at him, and asked, "Why'd you buy it? What have you got up your sleeve this time, Barton?"

"Nothing! I just thought you'd like it."

"Well, you were wrong," Natasha said, turning her back on him. "I don't like it. I've never been one to wear jewelry when I don't have to. It gets in the way."

Natasha flinched slightly when she felt Clint fasten the necklace around her neck. She noticed how his fingers lingered on her shoulders a few seconds longer than was completely necessary. She hated herself for it, but she liked it.

"So, want to get going?" Clint said at last.

"Yeah, let's get out of here."

They walked to the car side by side, neither one of them talking. They got in the car just as silently.

Natasha's skin still remembered the way he'd touched her. She loved the feeling far more than she should have... which meant that she'd have to work even harder to not let him get to her.

No one had ever gotten to her like this before, and she couldn't understand why Clint did. It's not like he was anything extremely special.

OK, that was a lie. He'd saved her life when he really shouldn't have and he'd put his job and reputation on the line to help her out. He was a very special person, particularly to her. And she had to admit, he was extremely special to her...

Clint caught Natasha looking at her necklace as if entranced. He knew that wherever she'd grown up, she certainly wasn't treated as much of a lady. Pity, he thought. She's such a gorgeous person, she deserves so much better...

*   *   *   *   *

They arrived at the dance shortly after. Thank goodness security didn't frisk them. They went and got a drink first. They both grabbed a glass of Vodka, and stood in a corner together.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate being in crowded places like this?" Natasha said.

"Many times, although you've never told me why," Clint answered.

"It makes it too easy for someone to commit a murder and get away, it's too cramped, it's way too hot, and it reminds me of... certain incidents." Natasha looked jumpy, and Clint could tell she was on her guard.

"Well, that makes sense," Clint admitted. "You want to dance?"

Natasha thought for a moment, then consented. They put their drinks down on a table, and Clint took Natasha's hand, gently leading her onto the dance floor.

They'd both done a fair amount of dancing together on missions, so they were both pretty good. Natasha liked more up-beat dancing best, while Clint, on the other hand, loved slow-dancing. This song just happened to be a slow song, which Natasha wasn't too pleased about. She really didn't feel like slow-dancing with her partner at that moment, but it couldn't really be helped.

Clint could tell from the way her body tensed when he drew her closer that she wasn't too pleased with the song choice. She didn't pull away, though, so she wasn't too uncomfortable.

She finally relaxed after about half an hour, but, of course, didn't let her guard down.

Natasha tensed suddenly, a couple hours later. She'd been doing that off and on all evening. "Natasha, relax," Clint whispered. "You look like you're about to kill somebody."

"I found him."

Clint was rather surprised by her comment. "You found who?"

"The guy who tried to murder you in the restaurant."