Feathers and a Widows bite (Clintasha fan fic)

Chapter 3

*Authors note*

I was requested to do a fluffy chapter and I am so yea here we go its like dancing and fair warning, it's not 100% fluff. I had to put SOME twist on it for gods sake. It's not meant to be fluff-y time in thier life. It's supposed to be screwed up and scary and deathly.

*End of authors note*

Clint looked at the clock on the wall.

"Natalia, hurry up!" He called, looking at the mirror on the wall, straitening his black bow tie and his black tux jacket. Natalia emerged from the bathroom in a full length red sequinned dress, a slit up to the top of her thigh. Clint's jaw almost dropped as her long hair swayed back.

"What do you think?" Natalia asked, looking at Clint, whom she was much closer in height to now, due to her heels.

"You look... Amazing." Clint slurred, smirking. "Almost as if you were Jessica Rabbit, my darling." he chuckled and took her hand in his, lifting it and placing an ever so soft kiss on it. He looked up to her and she grinned.

"Shall we?" She asked, her eyes glinting from the glittery eyeliner she put on her lids, and for the pure excitement.

"We shall." Clint said, chuckling. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and traced his hand over her side before guiding her towards the door. Natasha loved to go dancing, and she loved the excitement of the situation. She was finally with a man she didn't feel the urge to kill every five minutes. She never actually had the urge to kill him. As Clint guided her out of the hotel room, she saw her reflection in the elevator doors. The dress that framed her body perfectly, the heels that made her calfskin look gentle and young. He hair was perfectly sweep back behind her shoulder. Her date. His blonde hair combed perfectly. His black tux fitting tight enough to show his sculpted muscles through his shirt. They got onto the elevator, Clint proceeding to hit the ground floor button.

"Clint?" Natasha asked as the doors closed.

"Yes, Nat?" Clint replied, turning his body towards her and looked into her eyes, which had turned quickly from shimmering with excitement to burdened with fear.

"If we don't make it out alive in the end of all of this bullshit I-" she began before Clint cut her off.

"We'll be fine, Natalia, I promise." his voice was soft, reassuring. He pulled her close to him, lifted her up off her feet and kisses her gingerly. She grinned against his lips and kissed back. He pulled away from her lips reluctantly because of the doors opening. The young man that got on asked what floor they were going to, in Russian and Natasha replied, a little irked off,

"Ground floor, twit." Clint chuckled, halfway understanding the foreign language and gently caressed her back, 'shush'ing her and kissing her forehead.

"Sorry, ma'am." The boy replied in the language Nat had grown up with, not sure what he was apologising for. After the elevator doors opened again, post-awkward-ride, Clint guided Nat out of the doors and towards the limo that had been rented. He opened the door for her and helped her in. As she did, he caught a glimpse of the Winchester .45 she had strapped to her thigh. He chuckled and got into the limozine, wrapping his arm around Nat's waist and pulling her close, kissing her gingerly and gently. Nat grinned and kissed back, pulling herself half into his lap. His hands travelled across her small frame, chuckling against her lips.

"Nat, we have to wait." He mumbled against her soft lips.

"I know, when we return. And you know not to tell me what to do." She says with a heavy sigh, kissing the archer one last time, letting her bright eyes flutter about, looking out the window of the stretched car. They let a peaceful silence fall between them, Clint's fingers gently tracing circles on the base of Tasha's back. Her mind had never so damn clear about something. But she knew then; to be with Clint, to be relaxed. The limousine finally came to a halt in front of a theatre. The bright sign flashing. The blonde stepped out first, offering his hand to his gorgeous date. Once she had stood and he had shut the black metal door, he pulled Tasha's small hand up to his and kiss it gently, right on her protruding knuckles.

"Shall we?" He asked, looking at his girl with a cheeky girl.

"We shall." She replied, but in Russian. She was still getting used to talking English all the time, so she often spoke in her native tongue, a habit. The went a inside and practically danced the night way. Very few times they broke apart, but when they did it wasn't very long.

Natasha would go to the powder room and freshen up. Clint would step out for a cigarette. Before the end of the night though, as the ball was coming to an end, Clint approached Natasha. His battered SHIELD book in hand... But it wasn't as torn. Perhaps he got a new one, Natalia thought.

"I want... I want you to take this." She said, handing over the book. But it wasn't heavy enough to be the book. She opened the book; the centre had been perfectly cut out. Inside sat a few rose petals and a small jewellery box.

Clint palms were sweating as she opened the book. He watched her set the shell of the book down, picking up the box. She opened it, revealing a silver necklace, a small arrow part of the chain, a couple small diamonds on the tip. Her eyes welled as she stared.

"For now, it's all I can afford. Tash, the last few months... They have been more than perfect. I don't want for a couple months to only last until we get home. From the first time I saw you, I knew you were special. You are perfect, elegant and kick ass. You're all I could fuckin' ask from the world. Whatever god or goddess is up there, watching us, blessed me with your presence. Natasha Avalona Romanoff... Would you do the favour of spending the rest of your life with me? Will you mar-" Before he could finish the damned sentence he'd been practicing for days, three loud gunshots rang out, curdling screams from most of the women. Fuck. Both Nat and Clint made a break for it, but Nat took the necklace with her. Holy shit. She didn't know which event to be more shocked at. Clint's proposal, or that they found her. Again.