bakerstreet | The Mistletoe Meme

Clint watched from the doorway as Natasha danced and laughed with their ‘coworkers’. He probably shouldn’t be staring, but if anyone caught him... well, who could blame him?

It was one of those rare cases where they both got to be undercover on the same mission, but it hadn’t started out that way. Natasha had gone in first, but after a few weeks it was clear they needed another body, preferably a male to cover all their bases. She was an admin assistant, he worked in the stock room, and rarely did they cross paths. They kept up appearances, and it was easy when they didn’t work in the same vicinity, but it was the company’s Christmas function and everyone had been invited.

Would it be too suspicious if he talked to her? The other warehouse workers were mingling well enough. He just had to keep it casual, that was all. Casual, casual, casual.

Or he could just continue to linger in the doorway, drink, and watch her like a creeper first. Just for a little longer. He didn’t want to interrupt in case she was actually getting some useful information. Alcohol did have the uncanny ability to make people loosen up and talk.

Natasha was, as usual, playing her role very well. It hadn't bothered her that Clint had been pulled on board, yet nothing really phased her in that sense. In her mind, even though they were supposed to be complete strangers, it was nice to have a familiar face around.

The man she was currently conversing with had been plying her with glasses of wine all evening, and it was only now that her cheeks held a pink tinge yet she managed to keep the Russian accent from keeping up on her by pursing lips around the glass and smiling as if she had half a brain.

Tasha could feel him watching her, the familiar gaze weighing heavily on her skin as she looked around the room. Inconspicuous to those around her but searching, she caught his gaze, gave him a smile and returned her eyes back to Greg, or Dan, whatever his name was, he wasn't exactly important. The boss was far more important, but since Natasha couldn't spot him in the crowd she made do with idle small talk.

She drained the glass and instantly he was leaving her to get a refill. No more wine, Natasha hated wine. Seeking out Clint again with her eyebrow raised as if questioning why he was staring so much. It was innocent enough and nobody seemed to care as the drinks were flowing.

Clint had been nursing his drinks and was barely feeling the effects of them yet, and it certainly hadn’t escaped his notice that John had been working very hard to get Natasha drunk, clearly hoping it would increase his chance at getting lucky this evening. Boy, was he in for a disappointment.

For a brief second Natasha met Clint’s gaze and he could tell the the alcohol had started to take its effects but she was certainly far from gone. Not if John could help it! Clint rolled his eyes when the man scurried off to get Natasha another drink and when he looked back to find her watching him, a questioning expression on her face. He answered by yawning, clearly indicating he was bored. He should just go talk to her, that’s what people were supposed to do at these parties, mingle with those they didn’t normally mingle with, and if it meant they could start socializing a little more at ‘work’ once in a while that would only be a bonus, right? He just didn’t want to interrupt, or cause any unneeded friction with John the jerkoff.

Natasha had no interest in going home with anyone, not unless their boss turned up and she could charm her way into his house, other than that there was no chance. The cosy little suburban home SHIELD had set her up with was on her mind, including the bathtub, and the bed which was surprisingly comfortable even if the wardrobe suited her alias more than herself.

Natalie was a god damn admin specialist, in her brief time working with the company she'd all ready made an impression in completing all assignments efficiently and even rearranging the file room. The boss had been impressed and unfortunately so had the no-name currently filling her another glass.

Maybe she'd just set it down somewhere and accidentally forget to pick it up. She held Clint's gaze for a moment, let a coy smile wash over her face before her eyes slipped away back to a conversation close by. She saw lips move but the information coming out of them wasn't worth the effort of paying much attention and listening.

This was a damn bust if ever she'd seen one.

Instead of waiting she drifted away, patent heels clicking against the floor as she smoothed the dress over her curves and made her way towards a nearby chair, seating herself down and carefully crossing her legs. Hopefully she could avoid her new best friend, hopefully she could avoid another glass of terribly cheap wine.

Clint too had been doing his share of lipreading before he’d gotten sufficiently distracted, but it seemed everyone really was just here to have a good time and nothing useful was being discussed.

Noting the smile Natasha threw in his direction, Clint visibly perked up. Watching her snake her way through the joyful guests, clearly looking to ditch What’s His Nuts before he got back with more cheap wine, he pushed away from the doorway and headed in her direction, just narrowly avoiding an encounter with Edith from HR. That woman made up any excuse she could to visit the warehouse, and had been coming on pretty strong all week leading up to the party. There was very little chance he would be getting out of here tonight without submitting to at least one dance.

Approaching Natasha’s chair, he stopped just beside it and turned to look back at the room. After a moment he offered a shy smile. “It’s Natalie, right?”

It was really no surprise that Clint came forward, he was the one who circled after all and Natasha was certain he could read her body better than anyone, the way her shoulder rolled, the bored look under the surface, the way she was humming energy that screamed this was fruitless.

That being said, Natalie smiled back with that same coy perk of her painted lips, a flutter of eyelashes and a slight twist to her body. "Yes, I'm sorry, I can't put a name to your face," Natasha knew, Natalie was oblivious to everything that didn't happen on the comfort of her floor.

She motioned to the chair opposite, crossed her legs carefully and smoothed her dress down. "I'm really sorry, there's just so many people who work here I loose track."

Her eyes slipped to Edith, something shifted but remained hidden as she gave the other woman a small smile.

Clint tried to look a little disappointed that she didn’t know his name, but then visibly shook it off at her smile. He waited until she invited him to join her before taking the seat opposite her.

“It’s fine, I mean it’s not like we actually work together together, right? And I’m still pretty new,” he said. He noted how her eyes drifted and took a glance in the same direction only to find Edith practically glaring back at Natasha. Well, this could get interesting.

“It’s Chris. My name,” he said, holding his hand out for her to shake. “I hope I’m not interrupting. If you came here with John…”

He let the words trail off. For anyone listening it was a harmless conversation, he was simply asking if she was here with a date, but of course there was more to it. Clint was pretty sure he knew the answer, but if Natasha actually thought she could get anything out of John then now was the time to tell him and he would back off and let her work. If not… well, this would be an excuse for Chris and Natalie to get to know each other so if people saw them together in the future then the groundwork would already be laid.

Natalie wasn't meant to know his name, Natasha did, but administration and warehouse rarely had moments where they could hook up and chat. She watched him with a placid expression until he sat down, tilted her head and let her eyes follow the curve of his arm down to his hand, reaching forward to take it in a light grip.

Edith could go to hell, Natasha had heard rumors spread like wild fire about her and her appetite for new blood and both Natalie and Natasha were indifferent to her actions.

The main concern was her new admirer, let alone keeping a man eater away from Clint, Natasha had to stop Johns attempts at trying his damnedest to get her drunk. luckily They both were able to help each other out.

"Well Chris, it just so happens that I didn't come here with John, in fact if you were a gentleman you'd save a damsel in distress. If he makes me drink one more glass of wine I may end up on the floor." She laughed softly, giving him the hint he was after. John had nothing, no information, no insider secrets, nothing.

"So Chris, how are you enjoying the party?" He own way of asking if he'd overheard anything while he'd been busy watching her work the room.

Clint wasn’t sure exactly what cover Natasha was playing this go around, but at the way she was eying him he had a feeling Natalie had a good helping of smoldering vixen going on. He had a feeling that Edith was far from impressed nor happy right now, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away to look. What man could?

Settling back in his chair after releasing her hand, a wide smile spread across his lips when ‘Natalie’ told ‘Chris’ that John definitely wasn’t her date. “You don’t have to drink it,” he said, a gentler expression taking over. “But, I mean, of course I’ll help.” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees. “To tell you the truth, I don’t like the guy, so the fact that you put up with him as long as you did deserves a medal or something. I woulda needed to drink a lot too,” he said in a low, conspiratorial tone before grinning again.

“It’s, uh... it’s kinda boring,” he looked a little nervous to admit it. “All the interesting people must be eluding me.” Nothing to report, no interesting conversations.

Natalie was supposed to be professional, she was only supposed to smoulder when the Boss walked in the door, but honestly? How could she resist toying with her favorite partner when there was nothing he could do.

After all, this had been her operation and Natasha was still certain that she was calling the shots.

She laughed, mirroring his actions, leaning forward on her own elbows as if they were sharing a secret, ironic that they were currently talking through riddles. "But not drinking it is impolite, and also, as you said, I need vast quantities to help me through this tough time." Her head tilted slowly, curls of red falling around her face before she straightened slowly, leaning back in her chair.

"Well Chris, maybe you just need to meet the right people."

And that innocent expression was right back on her face.

When Natasha mirrored his actions Clint’s smile was genuine. Spy work wasn’t really his forté, not like it was Natasha’s, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this. The day to day grind got really tedious, but moments like this made him forget that, if only for one night. “Then I, uh... should I be flattered you’re not drinking in my presence?”

He had to admit, though: Chris was a bit of a drip, but for his role in this it was better to be shy and invisible when he could.

Watching her lean back again, it was not his turn to follow her lead as he did the same. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, glancing sideways to find that Edith had crept a little closer, clearly eavesdropping. “Though I thinks, maybe, that things are starting to look up...” He looked at Natalie with a nervous smile, as if worried he was about to be rejected.

"That depends on what your intentions are Chris," lips pursed, eyebrow curved into a fine arc while she eyed him carefully. This was different, nice almost, to be in the company of a friendly face, someone she didn't truly need to keep up appearances with. Natasha could give him hints, could drop the cover when no one was paying attention but right now this was fun, and it certainly beat fighting off advances from the wine merchant.

Natasha could feel Edith's eyes on her, smoothing down her dress and placing her hands on her knee, "well Chris, I'm glad I'm making this more tolerable for you, although I may take my leave soon."

If boss man hadn't turned up by now Natasha guessed he wasn't turning up at all.

He put on a mask of surprise. “Nothing! I mean... it’s not... nothing bad,” he stuttered, completely worried that Natalie might think he had untoward intentions like John with all his wine. Clint could see that Natasha was enjoying this little game of charades, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t as well. It was certainly making the night much more interesting than it had been so far.

“Oh,” Chris sounded disappointed that Natalie might be leaving soon. Clint accepted the information as it was. This was Natasha’s show and if she felt they were wasting their time here tonight and that the boss wasn’t likely to show, then he would follow her lead. “How are you getting home? I mean, I assume you’re not driving.”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see John cutting through the crowd, glass of wine in hand as he searched for Natalie again.

A flutter of eyelashes as a look of disappointment played over her features. No, Chris certainly wouldn't do with this attitude. "Shame," her voice was low enough so only they could hear, not even Edith with her craning neck could hear that simple word and the way it was said, and sure Natasha was playing with fire, but he'll, she'll just blame it on the wine.

"I was planning on getting a cab, or walking depending on the weather," she eyed him carefully, smile on her lips, "unless you want to share a cab?" The question was innocent enough even if the glint in her eye was all Natasha's doing.

No, Natalie needed to get the hell out of there before John spotted her, it wasn't like she was hard to miss.

Clint’s brows lifted just the slightest bit. That one single word was clearly meant only for him and he wasn’t sure how to take it so he just scratched his chin and glanced quickly around the room. John had spotted her and was on his way over, though he faltered when he noticed she wasn’t alone.

“You shouldn’t walk, it’s pretty cold out,” Clint said, meeting her eyes again. Noticing the glint there he felt his stomach tighten slightly. The plan had been that if they found nothing of interest she would leave first and twenty minutes or so later he would do the same, but it seemed the plan was changing. He knew he should refuse, but how suspicious would anyone really be? It wasn’t like people didn’t hook up at these sorts of things all the time. Chances were that nobody would even notice.

“I was thinking of leaving soon myself, so uh... yeah. It would make sense. Splitting the cab... I mean, if we’re going in the same direction...” As close to anything less than gentlemanly that Chris had managed, and he looked nervous for even suggesting it, and ready to play it off as innocent if he had read too much into her own comment.

Natasha almost felt sorry for Clint,playing this role had to be hard when he was faced with Natasha and her many changing faces. Yet something inside of her ached, something inside of her gloated at making him just another fool. Maybe she could trick herself into thinking that this was right; playing him just like she'd played all the others. Maybe.

Nick, Steve, no Daniel approached, and Natasha had eyed his hands long before he'd made tracks in their direction, holding out the sprig of green and white and she'd merely perked an eyebrow at it. But with John creeping closer and Edith still hanging around it seemed right.

"Are you going to indulge me before we leave Chris? It is Christmas after all..." Not that she would wait for an answer. When they were back in work Natalie would blame it on the wine. She lent forward on her elbows, inching closer as she stared at Clint across the gap, not Clint, not her Clint. But Chris.

She blinked at him, eyes fleetingly casting upwards at the sprig of mistletoe. "You're keeping a lady waiting Chris..."

Clint had been tracking the progress of John and his alcohol and hadn’t noticed Daniel approaching from the other side, clearly half in the bag and making the rounds of all the unsuspecting duos littered about the party. When Natasha spoke, pulling Clint’s attention back to her, he found her leaning closer again, but he didn’t follow her words until he followed her eyes upwards to the mistletoe held over their heads.

Well, this definitely wasn’t part of the plan, but Clint was never one to back down from a challenge, and Natasha was clearly posing a challenge right then. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the point of view, Chris wasn’t so bold. Clint would have made a show of it and kissed her so thoroughly it made her hair curl, but Chris leaned in a little hesitantly. “Oh, uh, well, we can’t have that,” he said. Shifting ahead in his chair he placed his hands on his knees, his fingers brushing her knee as he did so. “And it’s tradition, after all.”

Sometimes Chris really talked too much, so he finally silenced himself by pressing his lips softly to Natalie’s.

Plans were supposed to be their for a reason and usually Natasha wouldn't go against the plan unless hers was a much better option, but this, this was all for amusement, something she could look back on and smile to herself about when she was bored in her office shuffling papers.

Poor Clint, being used like a pawn in her game, still, she'd doubt he'd truly mind.

If they had been alone and not sharing false names Natasha would have made sure his lips were on hers a long time ago, but since Chris was a little slow on the uptake Natasha would just have to be patient.

She just kept a smile on her painted lips, kept her head tilted as her eyes fell from the mistletoe back to Clint across the now small gap and when he finally plucked up the courage to kiss her she smiled, her fingers twitching to find his, just brushing along the back of his hand.

When they finally parted she swore the sound of breaking glass came from behind her where John had been standing, and Natasha could guess her glass of wine was now painting the floor. Oh well.

"Not bad Chris, you get an E for effort."

There was a part of Clint that thought this was a very bad idea, but as her lips moved so softly against his, tasting of wine and seduction, he had a hard time identifying why. It certainly felt like a good idea, though it was pretty damn hard to stick to character and keep the kiss fairly chaste when what he really wanted to do was tangle his hands in her hair and explore every inch of her mouth with his tongue.

Licking his lips when the pulled away, he didn’t lean back from her, keeping up the close proximity. “Don’t you mean an A?” he asked, his eyes darting behind her for a split second to catch the murderous look John was throwing at him. Whoops. This probably didn’t count as keeping a low profile. He was supposed to be Natasha’s backup, little more than wallpaper unless she needed him and getting what information he could while remaining fairly unnoticed and forgettable. Kissing the hottest woman in the room in front of everyone was not the way to remain unknown.

“You still wanna get that cab?”

Neither was being seen leaving with her.

Natasha would let him, he could do whatever he wanted to her and she wouldn't bat an eyelid, but Natalie well,for her sake it was probably best they didn't get into a heated match of tongue hockey. Neither could pass that off as a quick party hook up, Natalie wasn't drunk enough and Chris certainly wasn't that bold.

Her eyebrow raised slowly, giving him a smile as a slender shoulder shrugged, "no, I meant the E. You may upgrade depending on how much you let your hair down." She lent back slowly, raising a hand to her head and feigning fatigue. "Well, the wine has certainly gone to my head, yes, I think it's time for a cab before I'll have to ask a polite gentleman to carry me home." One effortless girly laugh as she smoothly stood, looking down at him with that same pleasant smile on her lips. All an act, her words had been loud enough for those around to hear, the perfect alibi for leaving.

Natasha turned slowly in her heels, facing John with a sudden look of confusion to the spilt wine. "John!" The look of surprise on his face was nearly priceless, considering it was the first time she'd addressed him by his name all evening. "Thank you for the hospitality but I'm afraid I'm turning in, lots of work to do and Chris here has offered to split cab fare." Well, that was him taken care of even if he was still glaring at Clint from over her shoulder as she hugged him carefully.

“Ouch, you’re a harsh judge, Natalie,” he replied, wincing a little at her comment though clearly still interested in upping his grade. When she finally leaned away he shifted in his seat, watching her carefully. She was good, speaking loud enough for those nearest to them to hear but not too loud to be obvious or one of those attention seeking drunks.

Getting quickly to his feet after Natasha stood, Clint looked sufficiently uncomfortable when faced with John, though inside he was laughing at the guy’s expression, first the surprise and then the evil eye he quickly went back to. “Yeah, uh, it’s on my way so I figured it made sense,” he said, shrugging sheepishly. John looked like he was about to say something, probably offer a drive himself, but while Natalie was hugging him Edith took the opportunity to pounce and anything the man might of said Clint missed completely.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving!” she trilled, wrapping her hands around Clint’s bicep. “I never did get that dance you promised me.” She tried to pout alluringly but the effect was completely the opposite.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I... I’m not much of a dancer...”

Natasha simply gave him a look, and it was truly meant for Clint, a smouldering gaze full of promises and lust but the look disappeared as quickly as it appeared. No use in over exciting their fellow colleagues, some things were better left out of common knowledge.

John was like a squid, Natasha had had her fair share of men who kind of, just clung on, but this was awkward to say the least. She could feel the mans gaze and knew the look directed at Clint was one of drunken hate. Oh well, the man would get over it eventually.

As she finally shook off his grip she turned to be faced with a quite amusing site, arms crossed and foot tapping her heel into the floor. Edith was a tricky customer and although Natasha only knew her by file she also knew the woman had access to information that could be key to their mission objectives. Maybe she should let Clint take her home to do the bedroom tango.

Naw.

"Edith right?" She approached carefully with a cheerful smile under flushed cheeks. "Natalie, I just came over to say that John thinks your dress is wonderful and he'd really like to talk to you but he's playing coy..." And with that she reached behind her to pull John forward, eyebrow perking slowly at Clint. "I'm sorry to steal your dance partner, but he's promised me a cab ride home and no lady should be left wandering the streets on her own this day and age.." Even though Natasha was no ordinary lady.

Clint knew he should probably humour Edith more, maybe spend more time with her considering her position in HR, but she was so grating. He was glad for Chris’s shy persona so he could dodge her advances easily, and he was even more glad in this moment for Natasha’s help. She could have thrown him under the bus, could have left him to deal with this on his own, but when she practically threw John at Edith he was entirely grateful. Amused as well, but mostly grateful.

And from the look Natasha had given him a moment ago it was looking very likely that he’d get ample opportunity to show her just how grateful he really was.

Edith, for her part, was not happy with the introduction and sized Natalie up like women do their competition, but the line about John caught her by surprise and soon her face lit up as she seemingly forgot that she wasn’t supposed to like this woman.

“Well, I suppose I could let him go if John will dance with me instead...” she said, releasing Clint’s arm and holding her hand out to John.

Oh Natasha would have found it amusing to watch Clint pony trot around the room with Edith on his arm, but alas that's not exactly what partners did and she did owe him for saving her from John and his squid like arms.

Watching the woman pull John off she smiled, gave Edith a convincing look of happiness and turned back to Clint. "Well Chris, your grade just dropped to an F, I do hope you're going to put in the work desired to bring your grade up to the mark." Her eyebrow raised, giving him a look meant for Clint, not Chris and brushed past him to acquire her coat.

The night had been a bust, the best she could hope for was getting him alone for some much needed TLC, and to see if he would work on his grades.

natasha romanoff || mcu

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