[Avengers: Drabble] "Eye Up High" [implied Clint/Natasha, G]
Title: Eye Up High
Prompt: (very, very late) birthday present for alaxes
Rating: G
Word Count: 400
Fandom: Avengers (MCU/movie ‘verse)
Pairing(s): implied Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Summary: Clint has a great view of their current mission.
Eye Up High
Natasha sat outside the bustling cage, a wide-brimmed hat shading her face from the warm Italian sun. She raised her espresso cup to her lips and said, “Any sign of the target?”
“Nothing yet,” said Clint, his voice brisk and professional. Then, he grinned, “But I do have a great view of your cleavage.”
His partner took an actual sip of her coffee, ignoring him.
Clint was on the rooftop across the street and two doors down, tucked into the shadow of a large ornamental sculpture and the building’s roof access stairwell, with a clear line of sight to where Natasha sat.
She knew exactly where he was, of course, but hadn’t even looked his way once - Clint figured he had the better part of the deal, that way. He took a moment to enjoy just looking at her, then spotted something farther up the street.
“Widow, possible match, your three o’clock.”
Natasha turned, seamlessly disguising the motion as leaning down to adjust the straps of her shoes. “That’s him,” he murmured.
“I’ve got a clear shot,” said Clint.
His partner rose, just as their target passed their table, then tripped and clutched at the man to keep from falling. The movement looked completely natural - or it would, to someone who had never seen Natasha dancing to the radio, wearing only one of his old t-shirts.
But their mark completely fell for it, taking Natasha’s arm and leading her close as he questioned whether she was all right.
Beside Clint, a red dot on the computer tracking screen began to blink clearly.
“Tracker’s set,” he reported.
“I’m fine, really,” Natasha was insisting, on the street below. “And I feel much better knowing there are gallant gentlemen like you, always ready to help a damsel in distress.”
She pulled away slowly, with a promising smile, then picked up her purse and left the café.
When she had rounded the corner, their target continued walking, in the same direction he had been going before and the opposite to Natasha - though she would keep walking for several more blocks, to be sure she wasn’t being followed.
“I’m fine from here, Hawkeye,” she said, softly. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”
“Copy,” said Clint. He eased from his perch and began dismantling his rifle. He would take the long way back, too - across the rooftops, most of the way, just because he could.
THE END
Current Mood:
absurd
Prompt: (very, very late) birthday present for alaxes
Rating: G
Word Count: 400
Fandom: Avengers (MCU/movie ‘verse)
Pairing(s): implied Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Summary: Clint has a great view of their current mission.
Eye Up High
Natasha sat outside the bustling cage, a wide-brimmed hat shading her face from the warm Italian sun. She raised her espresso cup to her lips and said, “Any sign of the target?”
“Nothing yet,” said Clint, his voice brisk and professional. Then, he grinned, “But I do have a great view of your cleavage.”
His partner took an actual sip of her coffee, ignoring him.
Clint was on the rooftop across the street and two doors down, tucked into the shadow of a large ornamental sculpture and the building’s roof access stairwell, with a clear line of sight to where Natasha sat.
She knew exactly where he was, of course, but hadn’t even looked his way once - Clint figured he had the better part of the deal, that way. He took a moment to enjoy just looking at her, then spotted something farther up the street.
“Widow, possible match, your three o’clock.”
Natasha turned, seamlessly disguising the motion as leaning down to adjust the straps of her shoes. “That’s him,” he murmured.
“I’ve got a clear shot,” said Clint.
His partner rose, just as their target passed their table, then tripped and clutched at the man to keep from falling. The movement looked completely natural - or it would, to someone who had never seen Natasha dancing to the radio, wearing only one of his old t-shirts.
But their mark completely fell for it, taking Natasha’s arm and leading her close as he questioned whether she was all right.
Beside Clint, a red dot on the computer tracking screen began to blink clearly.
“Tracker’s set,” he reported.
“I’m fine, really,” Natasha was insisting, on the street below. “And I feel much better knowing there are gallant gentlemen like you, always ready to help a damsel in distress.”
She pulled away slowly, with a promising smile, then picked up her purse and left the café.
When she had rounded the corner, their target continued walking, in the same direction he had been going before and the opposite to Natasha - though she would keep walking for several more blocks, to be sure she wasn’t being followed.
“I’m fine from here, Hawkeye,” she said, softly. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”
“Copy,” said Clint. He eased from his perch and began dismantling his rifle. He would take the long way back, too - across the rooftops, most of the way, just because he could.
THE END
Current Mood:
absurd