Clint is beginning to suspect that when Hill suggested he get Natasha a box of bath bombs for Valentine's, she must have had something else in mind because no way would she have meant this frou frou stuff he's staring at now.

He glares at the next helpful sales lady to give him a pitying smile and takes another look down the aisle. Nope. Nothing else here by the name of bath bomb that smells like something remotely Natasha when she's not on a job (she smells like cotton and guns and tastes like strawberry lip gloss), and nothing that does even the slightest justice to the name of bomb.

He turns on his heel and heads back the way he came.

---

"You want what?" Mack looks at him like he's gone crazy.

"Bombs. For when the target's in the bathtub," Clint repeats patiently. "I think she has something like this already. It'd have to be small impact, underwater detonation okay, the works. You got that?"

The only place he can figure Maria would be referring to for this sort of weaponry would be the SHIELD R&D department. It's not like this is standard Department of Defense stuff he's asking after.

Mack opens his mouth and looks around befuddled before snapping his mouth shut and smiling. "Sure. I'll have it to you by Sunday."

"Friday if you can." Clint shoves his clearance forward for the expedite. "Saturday's Valentine's Day."

---

"He wants a box of these?" Mack's partner demands. She glares at Mack for not telling Hawkeye to go find his own toys if he wants them done in a week.

---

Natasha's known for about a week that something's off with Barton. He looks entirely too pleased with himself and always answers, "Nothing," when she demands what's going on. After deciding he was useless as an interrogation subject (without getting more creative than Phil would be okay with right now), she researches all possible causes of brave stupidity in a partner and quickly determines he's likely planning something for Valentine's Day.

Heaven preserve her from sentimental assassins.

She changes her mind when he gleefully dumps the black box in her lap like a kid at Christmas and grins until she gets the idea she's supposed to open it.

"It's a box," she says, suspiciously. Black boxes not the size and shape for earrings or necklaces deserve suspicion.

Clint just rolls his eyes and motions for her to get on with opening it.

"What is it?" she demands. It's not even wrapped. How is she supposed to trust this?

"Come on, Nat. It's me. Just open the box."

She opens it. The contents are unfamiliar. She pulls out one of the dozen small, clear balls nestled inside and examines it thoughtfully. It's a bomb, she thinks. It can't be. She goes to work on the first one, pulling it apart.

"Hey!" Clint protests. "I spent a lot of favors getting those made."

Natasha doesn't dignify that with a response. She finishes dismantling it, evaluating the mechanism, then reassembling it. She smiles. "I love it."

---

Maria Hill does not love it.

"You built her a bomb?" Maria demands after the messiest after-report she's read from the two of them in thirteen months. She should have known the relative peace wouldn't last so long without the next disaster being spectacular. "A bath bomb?"

Clint just stares at her blankly. "It was your idea."

Maria groans. Never, ever will she ever give Clint gift-giving advice ever again.

Edited 2015-02-11 04:05 pm (UTC)

lovelovelovelovelove

:grins: Wow. The bomb was inspirational.

Bwahahaha, I can't stop laughing :D This is awesome!

Thank you! So glad you liked! I admit to chuckling a tiny bit while writing it.

Bwahahahahaha, FAIL, Clint. That "frou frou stuff" is AMAZING.

That being said, at least Natasha appreciates his interpretation fail. XD

He may be clueless about her personal preferences, but thankfully, he's not about her professional ones.

I'm a big fan of "frou frou stuff" myself!

Yes, Clint would build her a bomb (or, as the case may be, have built for her). I really like that he was considering her tastes, as in what she chooses to use in personal products. :)

He's an observant person who I like to think would get her tastes (thus, his success in gift-giving despite the misunderstanding). I love playing off of miscommunication and different perspectives rather than less than intelligence.