I don't know what to do with this exactly. It's over 2000 words of corset!fic (and, you know me, plot) and the impromptu party tonight wasn't necessarily for fic but this happened because of corsets being corsetty.

And then Seven Devils (F+tM) came on and I couldn't stop.

Title: Seven Devils (or, a bit of the story)
Genre: Old West AU (a sort of what if Lincoln hadn't been shot because Hydra was behind the Civil War and he was actually their puppet idea)
Characters: Clint/Natasha
Word Count: 2614
Rating: PG-13

Clint slung his bow over his shoulder just before sliding off his horse. Both of them were bone-tired and sore, covered in dirt from head to toe. The dust storm north of Sacramento had left him with dirt in places that dirt shouldn’t rightly be but he was still at least an hour away from seeing any warm water.

The other horses in the snug barn nickered their welcome, hanging their heads over their stalls to see what was going on. He counted over twenty head which probably meant the dust storm had been good for business, seeing as people would rather stay where it was warm and dry instead of heading into a potentially hazardous environment. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been one of those with the opportunity to stay put.

Speaking of work, he’d have to officially let Steve know he was back in town but the gossip mill would get the info to the places it needed to be so that he’d just have to fill in the specifics. He had more important people to check in with.

Arrow got a quick rub-down before diving into the oats Clint put out for him. The stallion would make do until one of the stable boys got out to him with some warm mush and some tender loving care.

“Wish I could say for certain I was going to get the same treatment,” he muttered, picking up his bow, quiver and saddle bags. “I may be sleeping out here tonight.”

True dawn was an hour or so away but there was enough light that Clint could appreciate the new coat of paint the boarding house was sporting. There were flowers in boxes that lined the wide porch and several small touches that spoke of attention and care that this place hadn’t seen in years. Carson City was on the cusp of civilization more and more every year, what with the War between the States finally slowing to a simmer. Lincoln would have them fighting for ten more years if he thought he could finally break the back of the South. It would only be a matter of time before he turned his attention to the ore-rich mountains on the other side of the country.

He may not have fought in a uniform or for a certain regiment but Clint was doing his own bit for the cause, as depressing as that thought was. He’d never wanted to be a fighter, coming West to get away from it. He’d wanted to lose himself in the Rockies.

Unfortunately, he’d gotten himself found.

But it was the good kind of found, for the most part. The kind of found that made him crave the warm bed that would be his due when he’d paid the piper for letting himself be talked into this mission when he’d made a promise to stay closer to home. The rumors about his involvement in a secret organization were true but they’d gotten the truth of his involvement all wrong. The price on his head was of a man who’d betrayed his countrymen, instead of the other way round. He’d tried not to look over his shoulder too many times while roaming through the peaks and valleys but the price on his head was growing every day and someone was bound to come gunning for him sooner than later.

Which was why he shouldn’t have paused at the foot of the stairs, leaving a target for anyone that might have been watching for him to finally make his appearance at the boarding house where it was well known that he stayed when he was in town.

He concentrated on the lace at the hem of the dress and the bare toes that peeped out from underneath the shorter style of dress that was in fashion in many of the border towns. “You wanna do the yelling now or can I at least get a warm meal?”

“The fire’s out except for the ovens. Won’t be anything warm for hours yet.”

“Fine. I’ll take something cold. Been a few days since I’ve had anything but hard tack. I’ll just be happy for something to eat that isn’t already a home to maggots.” When she didn’t move aside, he sighed and let his head fall back. Even though he knew he’d be gone as soon as he looked her full in the face, he let himself make eye contact with her. “I won’t apologize for something I’m not sorry for, Red.”

Her eyes were narrowed but he knew the exact shade of gray-green he’d find himself lost in if she wasn’t spitting mad. Normally her accent was absent but now her words were dripping with the nuances of her motherland. “If I shoot you, I can get the reward. It’s high enough now that I could pay off most all of my debt. Then I’d be free and clear to gad about the mountains.”

“T’weren’t gadding about and you know it.”

“You should have turned him down.”

He had his reasons, his debt weighing on him just like it did with all of them. It wasn’t money he needed but respect and purpose. If he was going to spend his life being a stable boy, he could do it just as well in San Francisco or Seattle where there was some nightlife and a reason to spend his coin. He wanted more out of life but it was an argument that wasn’t going to win him any points with Natasha. Never had before, and wouldn’t now. The shotgun aimed at his heart was cocked and ready if he made a misstep.

Instead of trying to make her see reasons, he held his arms outstretched so she had a better shot. “Shoot for the heart, sweetheart. I’d rather not suffer.”

When she lowered the primed weapon, he tried not to let the wave of disappointment sink too deep. Today was not the day he would die. That was too damn bad.

“You always did give up too easily.”

“Kept me alive to fight another day. I hear that’s important.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her but she moved aside so he could climb the steps. Try as he might, he couldn’t get far enough from her that his aura of dust didn’t settle on the delicate fabric of her skirt, mixing where it didn’t belong. Much like he felt these days. Sleeping in the barn had always been good enough for him. Why did he suddenly think he deserved a bed?

“I’ll just go-”

“Inside,” she muttered through a clenched jaw. The gun was back up but it wasn’t pointed at him. Instead, she was scanning the horizon for the trouble he could feel like a prickle at the back of his neck.

When the door was safely closed behind both of them, Clint began the long process of unburdening himself. The bow and quiver, he set in it’s place with the rest of the other weapons. None of them were allowed to carry anything larger than a carving knife any further on the premises. It made him feel naked to sleep without a weapon but he’d learned easy enough when he discovered what soft, clean sheets felt like against his skin.

The saddlebags fell to the ground and he didn’t bother to pick it up. Pete would be along soon enough and would see that Steve got it. Nothing inside was going to need his personal touch, seeing as he didn’t actually know what was inside. Not any more than Fury told him when he’d made the hand off. That story could wait, though. It was mostly gossip and he wanted to make sure the right people were hearing what he’d learned the one and only time he relayed the information.

“You look dead on your feet.”

He thought about making a witty comment about how observant she was but he held his tongue in check. “Last few days have been a flat out ride, coming off the mountains. Sierra Nevadas aren’t as forgiving as the Rockies for their coverage. I brought you something pretty.”

Any other woman would have been all a flutter to know what kind of present he’d brought but she stood where she was, her eyes everywhere at once, as if cataloging every part of him. If she’d asked, he would have given her a run down of his aches and pains. But she wouldn’t ask. And she wouldn’t pester him about this surprise, either.

It hadn’t stopped him buying it for her. Nor had it made the decision any easier as he’d surveyed the whole selection of silver as if he was going to find one that said This belongs to Natasha sure as if she had it in her possession at the moment. He’d contemplated each piece for it’s own merits, trying to see which one would look right against her skin. In the end, he’d picked the pure silver. None of the silly overlay that only made the piece look gawdy.

He toed off his boots, stripping off his woolen socks if only because they were every bit as dirty as the footwear that were in need of some leatherwork if he was going to make another trip like this one soon. Even though Jane would take a strip out of his hide, he also stripped off his leather jacket and woolen outer shirt, leaving them where they fell. Now that it’d been pointed out to him, he was dead on his feet. Bending over to pick up the filthy garments would only give him all the more incentive to stay here in the entry, curled against the wall with nothing but his boots for a pillow.

Natasha wasn’t so mindful of the dirt as she knelt to pick up his clothing. “There’s hot water for a bath waiting in the kitchen.”

“I’m much obliged of the gesture.”

“Bruce and Tony have both been gone for three days. We’re expecting them back.”

“Right. Tony and Bruce.” He wasn’t sure why the scientist and the dandy needed to be out and about but it could have been to test out their new carriage. Or it could have been because they wanted to see the sunrise from a different perspective. Who was he to judge what went on in the brains of those two men?

He swayed, his brain demanding that he walk back out to the barn and curl up beside Arrow for the night. His body wanted nothing better than to sink into the hot water of the bath and not get out again until morning. It was a war he was unable to do anything about, either to stop or to determine a winner. She made his decision for him, nudging him forward every time he stopped.

The kitchen proper was already filled with heady scents of baking bread but he wasn’t allowed to stop for a better attempt at determining what else might be on the menu for breakfast. Natasha continued her prodding until they were in the small room next to the mammoth fire place. He hadn’t been this warm in days, his fingers and toes beginning to tingle from the sensation of finally being real heat instead of the meager fires he’d built when he’d dared.

“Where’d you end up this time?” she asked as she began unbuckling his belt when he didn’t appear to be able to do it himself. Her question was only asked to keep him awake, not because she cared.

“Started out going south but I got a message at the Wellington camp that Fury wanted to meet me at the mission.”

“You went clear to the ocean?”

He shrugged, taking over the task of pulling his undershirt over his head from her when she lost her balance, her palms flat against his chest as she struggled to keep her feet. “How else was I going to get the packet of information for the Captain?”

“You were gone nearly two months.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, kicking out of his trousers. From where he was standing, the tub looked empty. “Not very full, is it?”

“Easier to fit two people when there isn’t as much water.”

He looked up in time to see the skirt of her dress fall to the floor in a swirl of dizzying color. The feet that had peeped at him earlier were in full view now that she was no longer hiding them behind petticoats. With very little fumbling, she was soon only in her corset and chemise. When she turned her back to him, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to smooth a finger over the ribbons that held everything together.

“A little help here?” She lifted the lovely waterfall of red hair, baring her neck. Slowly, oh so slowly, he leaned forward until he was close enough to place a kiss on the tiny spray of freckles that formed a flash of lightning across her creamy skin.

“I thought you were tired,” she whispered as she turned her head so that her cheek was rubbing against his hair.

“You offer yourself all wrapped up like this? I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

This close, he felt her spine stiffen but he doubted he would have noticed it if he hadn’t been touching her. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Did you worry about me when I was gone?”

“You know I did. I told you I would.”

“You told me so that I wouldn’t go because you knew I’d hate the thought of you worrying yourself over me.”

“And did you?” She reached for his hands, covering them with her own, keeping them in place as she leant back into his suddenly warm body. When he made a sound like he was questioning her, she repeated herself, changing around the question a bit. “Did you miss me?”

“Every damn day.” His hands skimmed over her body until they met in the front and roamed upward to her covered breasts. “I imagined you with a lot fewer yards of fabric wrapped around you.”

Her hands pressed his hands more firmly against her body, closing until he had handfuls of her, even through the cloth. “If you’d been a good boy and untied me, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. Be a good boy and follow instructions better next time.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed the shell of her ear with his teeth and growled, deep in his throat, as he tugged gently. She shivered, pressing back into him for warmth. “I think I like it better when you wear trousers and woolen shirts.”

“Have a thing for boys, do you?”

He rewarded her impertinence with another nip of his teeth. “It’s easier to get you out of your clothes. This contraption is all boned and laced.”

“Untie me,” she commanded once again, letting his hands free.

This time he complied and it was soon crumpled at her feet, along with the rest of the delicates. His hands roamed over creamy white skin, pressing into the cruel indentations of the skin from where the stays and her body had fought over who would be the one to decide on the final shape of her silhouette. Even still, she was perfect.

“What did you bring me?” she asked, the waiting finally too much for her to handle.

He knelt down to one knee, searching the pockets of his trousers for the bandana-wrapped present. “Something for your collection.”

Her smile was lopsided as she took it from him, revealing the small silver knife. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.” From his knees, he began a thorough inventory of his present now that she was completely unwrapped.