Name:May I have this dance?
Word Count:1,059
Rating:PG
Notes:Originally I wrote this to be a drabble. Then I found that I had a lot more to say than I intended. I hope I did them justice.


Natasha strode up to the limo, her hair put up in a bun with two curls hanging down by her face. Her gold heels clicked on the pavement and her long, dark green dress flowed behind her. She smiled at the driver who opened her door for her and got in.

She smiled at Clint, already seated and dressed in a tuxedo. His grey eyes looked at her approvingly. "You look lovely tonight." He said, offering her a hand to help her into the vehicle. She accepted it with a smile. The driver closed the door.

The door was closed and the limo began to drive. Natasha dropped her smile. "So what the job this time?" she asked, quick and to the point.

"Simple mission this time. Get in, gather as much information from talkative and drunk politicians as possible. Look for information regarding the invasion of New York City and the theft of several files in City Hall. There's no way that many renegade mutants get their way into City Hall to wreck the place without any police showing up and someone high up not be in on it."

Natasha nodded, "Makes sense. So what exactly are we walking into?"

"A celebration of a diplomat's daughter getting married. He has invited all his political friends. Typical bullshit of trying to campaign against and one up each other."

"Not surprised. So who are you supposed to be?"

Clint straightened out, "I am Joseph Morel, diplomat from Andorra."

"Which makes me?"

"A very deadly piece of arm candy."

Clint smirked when Natasha rolled her eyes and shot him a glare. He continued, "You name is Adalie Martin, my lovely girlfriend."

"Really? Girlfriend again? Love to stick to the same roles we have done a hundred times over, I guess."

"If it's not broken, no reason to fix it." Clint smirked, both endearing and annoying to Natasha.

Natasha nodded a small smile crossing her face for a moment before it was replaced with a stoic expression.."I guess it's the best way to get information from people. If people are looking for a vapid trophy girlfriend they won't be guarding their words. Plus those wives do like to gossip." She checked her hand clutch and readjusted the gun that sat next to her lipstick. She took out the lipstick, "So what's the ruling on deadly force?" she asked, reapplying lipstick.

"Use our own judgment."

"Just the way I like it."

Clint smiled, a charming thing. Natasha shook those thoughts out of her head. It was a job, that's all.

"You sure we can trust this guy?" Natasha said, casting a glance at the partition between the driver and the passengers.

"Yeah, I used him back in my old life. He'll keep his mouth shut even if he does see anything and drives like a bat out of hell."

"Good."

The limo stopped and the driver got out. Their door opened and it was game time.

The night seemed to drag on. Their information was somewhere there between the diplomats, but it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. Everyone seemed to just be blowing hot air and talking about their own lives, very little actual talk of the attack that had been in the news not even a few days before. It's like they were trying to avoid the very topic that Clint and Natasha had been sent there to gather information on. The drinks were just beginning to set in though, so Natasha hadn't yet given up hope on getting what she wanted. She always got what she wanted in the end.

A grand classical song came on, played by the orchestra the diplomat had hired to play.

"May I have this dance?" He said with a cavalier smile and a gesture of his hand.

Natasha looked at him and noticed a small group of people paying attention to his offer. She smiled. "Of course, darling."

He swept her in closer and wrapped an arm around her waist. She leaned in close to him, whispering.

"What are you playing at? How am I supposed to get information if I am dancing with you?" She was a little bit annoyed, though she kept her smile on. She hated being interrupted in the middle of a job.

"Well a little camouflage never hurt. You are supposed to be my girlfriend after all. It would be suspicious if we didn't dance."

"Not like I'm having much luck with the information anyway. Do you think someone tipped them off?"

He spun her around and brought her back, moving very surely and fluidly. "I don't think so. I think they just haven't had enough booze yet to start bringing up scandals at a wedding party."

"Yet." She noted, seeing someone drink their fifth glass of wine.

Natasha was a bit surprised at smooth Clint was. "You're good at this." she said, not entirely able to keep the surprise from her voice.

He gave a chuckle, "You pick up a lot of strange talents in the circus. You should see what I can do if you gave me a tightrope. You're not too bad at this yourself. They teach you dance moves as well as how to kill people?"

The Black Widow smiled, "No. That I learned on my own. It's...fun, with the right person."

"So is it fun with me?"

She smiled and leaned in close him., "Maybe." she said, before placing a kiss on his lips. Clint moved a hand to her face as he returned the kiss.

Then Clint heard it, a blonde diplomat talking into a phone at the edge of the dance floor as they swept past. "Mr. Kelly is very upset at your organization. You got caught."

Clint quickly recovered from his shock. "We have to go. I-"

Natasha nodded, "I know. I heard it to. Just don't look like you are in too much of a rush to get away."

The both left casually the dance floor and quickly made their way out of the hall.

"What was that anyway?" Clint asked as they walked after the man with the phone, tailing him from a distance behind.

"What? It's just a little camouflage." Now it was Natasha's turn to smirk, "Now come on. I think he's going out the backdoor. Get ready to fight if we have to."