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be_compromised2012-10-02 07:10 pm
i-llbedammned.livejournal.com) wrote in be_compromised2012-10-02 07:10 pm
Entry tags:
Escape
Fandom: Avengers
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov.
Characters: Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton.
Word Count: 1,243
Summary: Not all missions can be a success. Occasionally you get captured, as Clint finds out.
That was one thing Clint always liked about Natasha, that every mission was always different with her. They would get a mission and there would be one way that was tried and true. Then Natasha would suggest something crazy, something risky, but something the enemy would never expect. Against all common sense Clint would follow her. Usually it turned out brilliantly with them riding away in the car laughing as the people they were infiltrating were still trying to put together what happened.
Of course at the moment that unpredictability was also one of the things Clint hated about Natasha. Maybe if he hadn't gone along they would have at least gotten the diskette with the virus information on it. He looked around at the stone walls of the room he was caught in, looking for any openings. There was a small opening on the metal door that was across from him...and that was about it. If he could move the chair he might be able to fit through it, just enough to be killed by the guards on the other side as he tried to struggle through the dog door. He sighed and tried the restraints again, but the chains were not swayed by his attempts to escape. Guess he just had to wait until someone came to try and free him. He hoped that was before they got to the torturing phase of the capturing process. He just wasn't in the mood for being tortured today.
He heard footsteps approaching, they moved with a light step. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying his pulse. He could not afford for the adrenaline to make him shaky now. He heard voices sounding outside the door. They were probably deciding what kind of torture to perform upon him that night. He hoped it was not a car battery; he would be jittery for a week if that was the case. Slowly the door swung inwards and Clint faced it with a look of defiance. Couldn't let them see him sweat, no matter what.
A black riot shield hung down over the face of the guard in front of him. Whoever she was, for Clint could clearly see it was a she now, she was well armed.
"Clint, relax. It's me." The "guard" said. She slid up the visor, revealing Natasha Romanov's face looking at him partially amused.
"About time you showed up.” He allowed himself to relax as he recognized that voice. Maybe Natasha did have a plan after all.
"I couldn't let you just sit in this room forever. That would be a waste of a perfectly good-" She stopped short as her lock pick jammed in the lock. She cursed the piece of metal as she wrenched it loose.
"You owe me after this." Clint added, looking over his shoulder at her as she picked the lock.
"Why would I owe you anything Agent Barton?" Clint could hear the coldness in her voice that meant she was angry at something he just said.
"Excuse me, who's idea was it to try impersonating the lead scientist's wife without knowing her hair color?"
"How was I supposed to know she had just dyed her hair black that morning? And I did an excellent job of covering that up. I believe those guards were convinced that I was wearing a wig by the time I was done with them." The lock came loose and the chains dropped from Clint. He got to his feet, rubbing his wrists, "We still would have succeeded if you hadn't lost the ID card we needed to get into the back room."
"That one was not entirely my fault. Those guards put up one hell of a fight. Sorry I was too busy trying to stay alive to think about the small piece of plastic in my pocket."
"That's why you should leave hand to hand fighting to the experts."
"I'll keep that in mind for the next time we get jumped by guards in the middle of a mission."
Natasha sighed, shooting Clint daggers with her eyes, "I should have just let you stay there tied up. Might be easier that way."
Clint smirked, "They'll be time for tying me up later, I assure you." He was glad that got Natasha to smile even if it was a small one, "But first we have to get out of here."
"Already taken care of."Natasha said, now focused on the mission, “Follow me," With that she darted out into the hall.
Clint followed quickly. The guards outside were slumped against the wall. Clint wasted no time getting to work stripping one of them of their gear.
"Nice work," he commented to Natasha.
"You know what they say; a little poison is a girl's best friend." Natasha said with a smile. She picked up a pistol off the guard and handed it to Clint. "You might need this up ahead."
"So you killed them?" Clint asked, taking the gun and checking to see how much ammo was inside. Six shots, not bad. Though he tried to keep his voice even part of him was concerned she was falling back into her old habits.
She shook her head, "Knocked them out, though we might have to kill them if you keep standing around."
Clint moved on quickly. They made their way through the hallways of the facility quietly. At times it was painstakingly slow as they strove not to be heard and tried to seem like they were part of the routine patrols, but Clint trusted that Natasha knew what she was doing. Despite the hard time he gave her there was no one else that Clint would trust more to get him out from behind enemy lines against all odds.
Eventually they made their way out the facility, even waving goodbye to the guard watching the front doors. It was amazing what a good uniform could do for how people viewed you. They sat in the car parked a decent way away from the facility. They just sat there for a bit feeling the mixture of relief that they were out of there and the bitter taste of a mission failed.
The radio played soft country music as they sat there. For quite a few minutes there was nothing but the sounds of music as they sat there.
Clint broke the silence first, “Thanks, Nat."
"For what?"
"For saving my ass back there."
"Don't thank me Clint. I have a debt to repay to you still."
"You know after the fifth time of saving my life, I think you have repaid your debt enough."
Natasha shook her head, "I don't think it will ever quite be enough to repay what you have done for me."
Clint took that with a nod and a smirk, "I suppose there are worse things than being able to look forward to a sexy red head saving my life when I mess up on a mission."
"Knew you'd admit to screwing up sooner or later."
Clint held up his hands as surrender, "Okay, okay. It was my fault. Guess you'll just have to tie me up and teach me a lesson."
Natasha smiled and started up the car fully in response, "Better be careful, Clint. If I didn't know better I'd say you messed up only so you could get punished." And with that they drove off with a roar into the night.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov.
Characters: Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton.
Word Count: 1,243
Summary: Not all missions can be a success. Occasionally you get captured, as Clint finds out.
That was one thing Clint always liked about Natasha, that every mission was always different with her. They would get a mission and there would be one way that was tried and true. Then Natasha would suggest something crazy, something risky, but something the enemy would never expect. Against all common sense Clint would follow her. Usually it turned out brilliantly with them riding away in the car laughing as the people they were infiltrating were still trying to put together what happened.
Of course at the moment that unpredictability was also one of the things Clint hated about Natasha. Maybe if he hadn't gone along they would have at least gotten the diskette with the virus information on it. He looked around at the stone walls of the room he was caught in, looking for any openings. There was a small opening on the metal door that was across from him...and that was about it. If he could move the chair he might be able to fit through it, just enough to be killed by the guards on the other side as he tried to struggle through the dog door. He sighed and tried the restraints again, but the chains were not swayed by his attempts to escape. Guess he just had to wait until someone came to try and free him. He hoped that was before they got to the torturing phase of the capturing process. He just wasn't in the mood for being tortured today.
He heard footsteps approaching, they moved with a light step. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying his pulse. He could not afford for the adrenaline to make him shaky now. He heard voices sounding outside the door. They were probably deciding what kind of torture to perform upon him that night. He hoped it was not a car battery; he would be jittery for a week if that was the case. Slowly the door swung inwards and Clint faced it with a look of defiance. Couldn't let them see him sweat, no matter what.
A black riot shield hung down over the face of the guard in front of him. Whoever she was, for Clint could clearly see it was a she now, she was well armed.
"Clint, relax. It's me." The "guard" said. She slid up the visor, revealing Natasha Romanov's face looking at him partially amused.
"About time you showed up.” He allowed himself to relax as he recognized that voice. Maybe Natasha did have a plan after all.
"I couldn't let you just sit in this room forever. That would be a waste of a perfectly good-" She stopped short as her lock pick jammed in the lock. She cursed the piece of metal as she wrenched it loose.
"You owe me after this." Clint added, looking over his shoulder at her as she picked the lock.
"Why would I owe you anything Agent Barton?" Clint could hear the coldness in her voice that meant she was angry at something he just said.
"Excuse me, who's idea was it to try impersonating the lead scientist's wife without knowing her hair color?"
"How was I supposed to know she had just dyed her hair black that morning? And I did an excellent job of covering that up. I believe those guards were convinced that I was wearing a wig by the time I was done with them." The lock came loose and the chains dropped from Clint. He got to his feet, rubbing his wrists, "We still would have succeeded if you hadn't lost the ID card we needed to get into the back room."
"That one was not entirely my fault. Those guards put up one hell of a fight. Sorry I was too busy trying to stay alive to think about the small piece of plastic in my pocket."
"That's why you should leave hand to hand fighting to the experts."
"I'll keep that in mind for the next time we get jumped by guards in the middle of a mission."
Natasha sighed, shooting Clint daggers with her eyes, "I should have just let you stay there tied up. Might be easier that way."
Clint smirked, "They'll be time for tying me up later, I assure you." He was glad that got Natasha to smile even if it was a small one, "But first we have to get out of here."
"Already taken care of."Natasha said, now focused on the mission, “Follow me," With that she darted out into the hall.
Clint followed quickly. The guards outside were slumped against the wall. Clint wasted no time getting to work stripping one of them of their gear.
"Nice work," he commented to Natasha.
"You know what they say; a little poison is a girl's best friend." Natasha said with a smile. She picked up a pistol off the guard and handed it to Clint. "You might need this up ahead."
"So you killed them?" Clint asked, taking the gun and checking to see how much ammo was inside. Six shots, not bad. Though he tried to keep his voice even part of him was concerned she was falling back into her old habits.
She shook her head, "Knocked them out, though we might have to kill them if you keep standing around."
Clint moved on quickly. They made their way through the hallways of the facility quietly. At times it was painstakingly slow as they strove not to be heard and tried to seem like they were part of the routine patrols, but Clint trusted that Natasha knew what she was doing. Despite the hard time he gave her there was no one else that Clint would trust more to get him out from behind enemy lines against all odds.
Eventually they made their way out the facility, even waving goodbye to the guard watching the front doors. It was amazing what a good uniform could do for how people viewed you. They sat in the car parked a decent way away from the facility. They just sat there for a bit feeling the mixture of relief that they were out of there and the bitter taste of a mission failed.
The radio played soft country music as they sat there. For quite a few minutes there was nothing but the sounds of music as they sat there.
Clint broke the silence first, “Thanks, Nat."
"For what?"
"For saving my ass back there."
"Don't thank me Clint. I have a debt to repay to you still."
"You know after the fifth time of saving my life, I think you have repaid your debt enough."
Natasha shook her head, "I don't think it will ever quite be enough to repay what you have done for me."
Clint took that with a nod and a smirk, "I suppose there are worse things than being able to look forward to a sexy red head saving my life when I mess up on a mission."
"Knew you'd admit to screwing up sooner or later."
Clint held up his hands as surrender, "Okay, okay. It was my fault. Guess you'll just have to tie me up and teach me a lesson."
Natasha smiled and started up the car fully in response, "Better be careful, Clint. If I didn't know better I'd say you messed up only so you could get punished." And with that they drove off with a roar into the night.