Disclaimer: The Avengers bedo not belong to me... unfortunately :/

Tango

It never ceased to amaze Clint how Natasha, even after all the time they'd been partners, could affect him like this.

When she walked out of the hotel bathroom, holding up the back his pants instantly felt a little tighter. "Could you zip me?" she asked impatiently.

"Sure," he replied.

When she turned, he let his fingers brush the soft skin on her back and he knew it was a bad idea. He wanted his hands all over her skin but he'd have to settle for this. Sitting down on the bed she put on her earrings and laced on her shoes; four inch heels with ribbons that strapped them onto her feet. Clint was served a gratuitous shot of her cleavage when she bent to lace her shoes.

Her necklace was long and fell between her breasts, drawing his eyes away from her face - the desired effect. It caused trouble when the targets all remembered her face. She stood and looked herself over in the mirror. The deep v on the slinky black dress showing off just enough before making her look like she was trying to hard.

She put on a mask, plain black, before nodding at herself in satisfaction. Like his partner, Clint wore full black: a tuxedo, his mask matching hers. The party was a masquerade after all, but masks still didn't cover much. "Excellent," Natasha said. "Ready?"

He linked arms with her before they walked downstairs to catch their limo to the party. Before they got out, they checked each other to make sure their earpieces weren't showing and opened the door. It felt like all on were on Natasha for the first half hour, Clint stood intentionally close to her, a possessive air surrounding him.

As they made their way around the room, they kept getting stopped by people asking to dance or to buy them drinks. "These people don't let up," Clint mumbled to her as they sat at their table. The others were a low ranking politician, her businessman husband, some d-list actress, and a popular comedian Clint couldn't remember the name of.

"It looks like the best way around this room is to dance," Natasha replied off-handedly, but Clint got an idea.

"Wanna dance?" he asked, a slightly smirk on his face.

Natasha just stared at him, thoroughly unamused and assuming he was joking. "Why?"

"You just said the best way across the room would be to-"

"So what do you two do for a living?"

Both were startled out of their quiet conversation by the comedian. Clint was too caught of guard to remember what he and Natasha had agreed on earlier. "I used to work for Stark Enterprises," Natasha said smoothly, putting on a charming façade.

"Used to?" the politician asked.

"I've since started working for the government," she replied and gestured toward Clint. "That's where I met this one."

"What exactly do you two do, though?" the d-lister asked.

Natasha looked at Clint, who was about the reply when a familiar song began to play. He grinned at Natasha. "You have to dance we me now."

She didn't argue as she was dragged onto the dance floor and into a tango. The way he and Natasha moved together left Clint confusingly reminiscent of Dirty Dancing, but enjoying it nonetheless. Natasha attention was elsewhere, however, scanning the crowd for their target. He marveled at that, all he could think about was the fell of her soft curves under his fingers and she was focused somewhere else. She casually touched the button on her earpiece. "Target spotted," she said, looking at Clint.

"Excellent," Agent Coulson said. "Slip him the drug and hurry out of there, alright?"

This particular mission was only to poison the target and get out before anyone knew they'd been near him. Without being asked, Clint began leading the two of them toward where the target sat, thankfully close to the dance floor. He twirled and dipped her carefully. She threw her arm back gracefully, was dissolvable pill falling into the target's glass easily. Clint tapped his earpiece this time, looking at Natasha. "The tooth is under the pillow," he said casually.

They could both hear the smile in Coulson's voice from the rather goofy choice of code. "Wait for him to go down and get out of there."

The song ended and the two of them were too engrossed in accouter to notice that the target had indeed fallen. They only noticed when a shout came from his date, calling for an ambulance. The two of them had casually made their way toward the door before anyone'd noticed they'd left.

In the limo back to the hotel, Natasha wore a sadistic grin. "You need to learn how to keep your head in the game lover boy," she said.

She leaned forward a little harder so Clint could see a little more clearly down her dress. "What do you mean?" came his slightly delayed reaction.

"Your hard on was a little hard to ignore during the tango," she said and took his hand. She slipped it under her dress and pressed it against the hot flesh covered by her panties. "But you look great in that tux so I'll let it slide."

Too much champagne, he decided as she sat on his lap, her thighs on either side of his hips. She could usually hold her liquor a little better but he recalled an open bottle of vodka before they'd left. Still he growled a low rumble from deep in his chest, pulling her in to devour her mouth.

He slipped his fingers into her panties and had just pulled them completely off when they got to the hotel. He slipped them into his pocket, feeling like he was in high school again, as they stumbled out of the limo. They raced each other inside and to the elevator where Natasha impatiently stabbed the buttons before Clint pressed her against the wall, his mouth over hers again, grinding his hips into hers.

At the top, they rushed down the hall, unable to let one another go as Natasha opened the door. The rushed inside before Clint had her up against the door, her legs wrapped around his waist, his lips making their way down her neck slowly, his hands making there way all over her hips and thighs, making her mewl quietly.

He began moving the two of them toward the bed, fussing with the zipper before just deciding to tear the thin fabric. "Hey!" she growled looking at the torn fabric sadly. "This dress was expensive."

He sighed dramatically, pushing her onto the bed. "I'll buy you three of them."

"But I liked that one," she whined.

He rolled his eyes before taking her mouth again, their tongues tangling while they both fought his tux off. Once he was free of his jacket shirt and pants, he rolled his hips into hers slowly, making them both shudder. Natasha bit his shoulder, making him groan. "Take off. The underwear," she hissed.

Not feeling suicidal, he stripped completely before Natasha flipped him onto his back, hovering over his hips. He hissed as she sank down onto his rock hard erection. She moaned long and low as she rolled her hips slowly. "Fuck, Nat," he groaned.

She leaned up and dropped back down a few times before Clint had enough and flipped them back over. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him all the way in. He bucked his hips hard against hers and she slowly unraveled. Falling out of control she impatiently ground her hips against his as he pounded her into her mattress. "God- Clint!" she shouted, wrenching her fingers in his hair.

He hissed before he grabbed her hands and held them down over her head as he sucked on her neck, rocking them so hard he absently thought the headboard might put a hole in the wall. "Jesus- Nat, I can't-" he ground out.

She shrieked and came down hard around him. He crumbled into the wet, clenching, heat of her pussy before collapsing into a sweaty, exhausted heap on top of her. They caught their breath for a moment before Natasha sat up to take of her shoes. "Well that was fun," Clint said.

"Just fun?" Natasha asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"It was pretty fantastic actually," he amended tiredly.

"That's better," she said dropping her shoes and rolling over so she sat on his hips again. "Ready for round two?"

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