Clintasha Ficlets

3) Our Side of Paradise: Part 1

note- around 2005-ish

They sat together on the small black leather couch as they waited outside one of the largest briefing room in SHIELD HQ. Clint Barton was leaning backwards with his arm slung onto the back of the couch behind Natasha Romanoff. She sat up with a straight back but comfortable in her own skin, her legs crossed and waiting in a professional manner. 

The navy blue door suddenly swung open to reveal Commander Hill standing there staring at them bored, "Get your asses in here, agents."

"Ahh, what? But this is so snug! I mean, black leather? For this place? Wow," Agent Barton said while rising up anyway to join the other two.

Barton and Romanoff walked through and sat down in their usual places as Maria Hill made her way to the other side of the glass table and tossed two brown files at them.

"This is your target. We need the string of numbers from him. From his ring. One of you is going to have to directly get it off him without alerting anyone and then immediately report back. He is currently major business partners with AndersonTech, meaning that he is going to have some of the highest security around. If this wasn't the case then I would have sent level 4 agents in to do this but we have a big player in the game unfortunately. "

"My time to shine and turn up the charm, " Clint said. He leaned back in his seat. 

"Yes, actually," Maria said. 

Natasha turned to face him and said, "Finally."

He grinned.

"It's also at a charity gala, dress appropriately," Maria said.

"Better than a rooftop in texas," Clint said. Natasha agreed whole-heartedly.

The next rest of the meeting had the three ironing out the details of the mission.

Maria ushered them out after 30 minutes and closed the door firmly as Clint and Natasha walked to one of the training rooms.

"Work up a sweat today?" Natasha asked. He bumped her shoulder in reply. 

They entered the room and got ready, Natasha went to the mats and Clint followed. They circled each other, then, she struck out and slammed her arm at his shoulder. He moved to block her and she shoved her foot on his shin, making Clint cry out, aiming his fist into her stomach. The following 20 minutes were full of grunts and groans as they fought and worked-out. 

Eventually when a victor appeared Clint puffed out, "Huh, I love Krav Maga. Even though I have bruises on top of bruises."

Natasha grinned, she stretched her muscles, "Just sore."

Clint gave her a look and nudged her side with his elbow, "In the good way?" 

She rolled her eyes, "Hit the showers. Target practice next, hotshot."

___

Later on the Quinjet to Belarus, Natasha and Clint were doing their last checks on their luggage for the week long mission. 

"You know, I'm actually good friends with the one of the heads of security in Minsk. Spent Easter with his family, lovely little boy they have, turned 6 this year," Agent Phil Coulson was recalling. He was Natasha and Clint's handler when Clint joined, and Natasha's when she did too.

"All right, Phil, easy with the nostalgia. Some of us aren't so old or sentimental about these things," Clint teased.

Phil glared lightly at him slightly miffed. 

"Aww, Philadelphia. You mad at me?" he put on his best puppy dog ​​eyes. Natasha rolled hers, she seemed to be doing that more often now, always a tad exasperated with her partner's behavior. 

They relaxed with each other while they could because in less than 10 minutes they would be landing in the SHIELD base just on the out-skirts of Minsk.  

Strapping themselves in they prepared for a quick landing. Coulson tapped on his ear piece before saying, "Black Widow, Hawkeye."

They responded accordingly and the air craft smoothly descended to the roof of the building. Making their way to the check points they then were allowed an hour to change clothing to blend in with their covers. 

They were allowed through after being routinely checked, Phil walked off to the 'Authorized Personnel Only' area while the other two went to their room. Natasha slipped into a little back dress while Clint put on an expensive looking suit.

"How do I look?" Clint said, doing a twirl.

Natasha looked over her shoulder from the mirror and she threw her mascara at him. It hit the side of his arm and she said, "Actually, I need that back."

He sighed and picked it up, passing it to her because he had no intention of losing his hand. He grabbed their bags ready to head to the garage and they left soon after as they had to get there slightly early to prepare. 

As soon as she opened the door to the garage Clint dropped to luggage and practically ran into the room gasping at the range of cars. 

"What the hell?" he said as another agent at the other end of the room looked over. "A BMW?," Clint sighed. 

Natasha lifted the bags in one hands and patted his shoulder with mock sympathy, "There's no difference, you're just a snob. "

Muttering under his breath insulting BMWs he let Natasha put the bags in the trunk and hopped into the passenger seat as she jumped into the driver seat and took out the keys from above. 

He wouldn't be driving this one. 

They left the garage and drove to the 5 star hotel where they would be staying for the next week, Crowne Plaza Hotel. The most important time would be Friday, which would be the night the gala is going to be held, at Hotel Minsk. It wasn't a very expensive or grand hotel in high society standard but there would be a gala to up its status in society.

__

They spent the next day preparing and looking over the files of the guests, they were would-be targets next to the man they were after: Isaac Shaw. Born British but he changed his whole identity after delving into the life of crime and greed, not a criminal mastermind or too much of an important man, just mixing with the wrong types and having one-too many bad agendas.