A Gift From: kiss_me_cassie
Title: In the Company of Thieves
A Gift For: sorcer3sssupreme
Rating: PG
Warnings/Choose Not To Warn: no warnings
Summary/Prompt Used: Despite Clint's ability to cope with almost anything this job threw at him, his teeth were starting to chatter. A nice warm safehouse sounded like heaven. Even if he was doubtful about whoever the owner was.
Author's Note: Hi, sorcer3sssupreme! I took a dash of three of your prompts and mixed them all up together. Hope it works for you!
1. Swapping all their clothes, even though they have different body types
3. Leverage AU (ummm… I did more of a crossover? which I hope you don't mind?)
4. Needing to stay warm in a wintery storm (ideally more like staying cozy indoors, but up to you!)
Note: The first section of the fic needs no special knowledge of the Leverage team. Simply stop at the break to enjoy some solid Clintasha cuteness.


In the Company of Thieves

Clint kept an eye on the street while Natasha worked her magic on the electronic lock of the safehouse. Not that there was a lot for him watch out for - the current ice storm was keeping everyone off the streets. Thankfully the mission Fury had sent them to Canada for had been a quick in-and-out without any fuss. Their target hadn't even known they'd managed to snag the vial of bioweapon from him, nevermind that they'd left a harmless substitute in its place.

The only downside to getting the job done so quickly, however, was that the "out" part was becoming a bit of an issue. Almost all the roads had been shut down for the night because of the weather and Fury hadn't even been able to get a quinjet through the mess of ice and snow. So they were stuck here for the time being.

"Dare I ask how you managed to set up a safehouse here without me knowing about it?" Clint asked, glancing over his shoulder at Nat.

"I'd love to say it's thanks to my outstanding spy skills, but it's not exactly my safe house," she admitted. She paused to twist two final wires together and there was an audible click as the lock disengaged. "Bingo! We're in."

Thank God. Clint felt like he would have frozen to death if he'd had to stay out here much longer. His coat and clothes were soaked through and despite his ability to cope with almost anything this job threw at him, his teeth were starting to chatter. A nice warm safehouse sounded like heaven. Even if he was doubtful about whoever the owner was.

With an audible sigh of relief, he followed Natasha into a small, dark paneled entryway and then into what otherwise would have been considered an excessively large but comfortable living room. Except one of the walls of this particular living room was completely covered in screens and high tech electronics. Clint let out a low whistle when he caught sight of it.

"Nice set up," he said. "Who did you say this place belonged to again?"

"I didn't," Natasha answered with a small laugh as she shucked her thick winter parka, which was dripping with melting ice. "Do you remember my friend Parker?"

He nodded and started to peel off his own outerwear. "Yeah, her and her merry band of thieves. I thought they worked out of Seattle?"

"They still do on occasion, but they've expanded their operations. When I touched base with Parker a few days ago, she let me know about this place."

"Why on earth would they choose this part of Canada to set up shop?" he asked, looking around. "No, you know what? I don't even care at this moment. All I want is the chance to dry out, warm up, maybe get some food in me."

"Sounds like a plan to me," she said, making her way towards the sweeping staircase to the second floor. "There are probably some clothes upstairs we can borrow."

Clint grimaced yet again at the feel of the damp gear sticking to his skin and followed her. "Think any of their stuff would fit me?"

"Probably. Or close enough. You and Eliot seem pretty similar in size." She opened a few doors on the second floor at random before happening upon a bedroom and making a beeline for the closet. Sliding open the doors, she rummaged around for a moment before tossing a flannel shirt and sweatpants his way. "Here. Try these."

"Thanks," he said, catching them midair.

"I'm starting to feel a little like Goldilocks," Natasha said. She considered the other clothes available and then pulled out a few things for herself.

"I'd say you were closer to being Little Red Riding Hood," Clint teased as he stripped out of his uniform.

She grinned at him over her shoulder as she unzipped hers. "Wrong fairytale."

"Eh. Close enough," he said, his attention straying as he watched her peel her suit down to reveal a wealth of pale, naked skin. It wasn't at all smooth and flawless but there was something about the myriad scars and marks that made her sexy as hell.

He got so distracted admiring her body he almost failed to notice the sweatshirt she was pulling on.

"Hold on, is that my sweatshirt?" Clint asked. "I thought I lost that years ago. How the hell did it wind up here? Did Parker steal it from me?"

Nartasha laughed and finished yanking it down over her body. "From me, actually."

"Why would she steal it?"

"She's a thief, Clint. That's what she does. Be thankful it was this and not your precious bow. Or one of my bites." Natasha paused and nibbled at her lip. "Although come to think of it, she may have nicked one of those from me as well."

Clint finished buttoning up his borrowed flannel then reached over and tugged playfully at the sleeve of the sweatshirt to pull Natasha closer to him. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he drew her to him for a light kiss. "I'd be tempted to steal this back from you right now, but we've already borrowed their safehouse and their clothes - well, in your case, my clothes - and I draw the line at borrowing their bed."

Natasha smiled up at him as she wound her arms around his neck. "Who said we had to use the bed?"

He grinned and leaned down to kiss her nose this time. "After freezing my ass off in the Canadian wilderness, I do."

With a smirk, she slid a hand down his back to grope him. "It is a very nice ass. My favorite."

Clint snorted. "Better than America's ass?"

"Absolutely. So much better than Steve's ass."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," he laughed, grabbing her hand and reluctantly pulling it away. "Let's settle for some nice, rated PG snuggling and a movie. If you're lucky, you might be able to talk me into a good old-fashioned make out session. I assume they have some sort of entertainment system set up here in addition to their other stuff? Cable or Hulu or something?"

Natasha laughed. "This is Alec Hardison we're talking about. I'm pretty sure he has better than that."

"Well, let's go find out," Clint said with a smile.

-----

Die Hard was just ending when Clint heard the door to the safe house swing open, then felt a gust of icy air, followed by the sound of three thieves entering the premises.

"Someone's here," he heard Eliot warn quietly.

Hardison's defensive reply immediately floated back to Clint and he rolled his eyes at how unstealthy the man was. If he and Nat had really been any type of threat, the Leverage team would have been toast by now.

"There's no way someone got past my security system," Hardison was saying. "It's 100% foolproof."

"Well, it can't be 100% foolproof if someone is here, can it, Hardison?" Eliot growled quietly.

Clint could just imagine him physically holding the other two back from entering the room when he heard Parker's voice.

"Um, guys? It's ok. I let someone know the location of this place and some tips on how to hack the system," he heard her say.

Hardison's voice immediately went up a pitch. "Girl, who are you sharing our information with?"

"Natasha," she admitted.

"Romanoff? Babe, we talked about this."

"He's right, Parker," Eliot said with a resigned sigh, as he finally stepped into sight, his guard still up but slightly more relaxed now. "Sharing our location makes this place a risk."

Natasha chuckled from her place within the circle of Clint arms, then twisted away from him so she could wave at everyone. "Hi! Sorry I didn't call before busting in, but Parker said if we were ever in Canada we could use this place."

Clint bit back a grin at Hardison's wide-eyed expression as he caught sight of them snuggling on the couch. "No, no, it's cool. We're cool. Welcome to Leverage North."

"We are not calling it that," Eliot complained. He turned to Parker. "We're not, right?"

She shrugged. "Anyhow, like I was saying, I didn't give out our address to just anybody. It was Natasha. Well, Natasha and her boytoy, which basically amounts to the same thing."

Clint, who had been watching the entire thing play out with amusement up until that point, felt the need to protest that. Apparently, Natasha felt the same.

"We're not -"

"He's not -"

Parker rolled her eyes at them. "Whatever. The point is, Natasha isn't just anybody. She's SHIELD. If we can't trust her and her partner, who can we trust?"

"I can name any number of people right now," Hardison started to say as he ticked names off on his fingers. "Hurley, Bonnano, Mag-"

Eliot cut him off. "SHIELD? Why don't we just share our location with Sterling? Or Taggert and McSweeten? No, offense," he added, with a dip of his chin at Clint.

"None taken," he replied.

"It's Clint, right?" Eliot said, holding out a hand to him.

Clint nodded and shook it. "Yeah."

"Tell me," Eliot said, "Are you more of a pale ale or stout guy?"

He glanced over at Natasha, not sure if there was a right or wrong answer to the question. She shrugged and he turned back to Eliot. "Either, really"

Eliot grinned. "Good answer. Are you guys hungry? I've been trying out some new recipes and I could really use some feedback. These two," he said, gesturing at Hardison and Parker. "Are useless when it comes to food. They'll eat absolutely anything."

Clint smirked. "Yeah, I hear you on that. Do you know Nat's been known to crack open a tin of caviar or pate and eat it straight from the container for dinner?"

"Hey!" she protested, jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow. "There's less cleaning up that way."

Eliot gestured over his shoulder at Parker. "That one eats fortune cookies for breakfast."

Parker nodded proudly. "Some men dream of fortunes, others dream of cookies."

Eliot shot him a look. "See what I mean? So what do you say? Food?"

Clint grinned and disentangled himself from Natasha. "Lead the way."