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More things
When Natasha Romanoff walked in to a big wig wizarding party, the last thing she expected to see was Clint Barton. She expected the odd familiar face from school, any kid who was a pure blood, but not a muggle born kid with a cockney accent. She didn't know why he was there at first, but when she found her mark, she knew why he was there.
Natasha sat at her table, in complete disguise as the mark came up, with Clint less than an arms length away at all times. This changed her plan, but not enough to make her worry. She would just have to be creative. Aside from Clint showing up, everything went as planned. Her target was across from her, making small talk, saying it was a shame that a woman so young is already a widow.
"The Ministry seems to think that I'm in danger, and have sent one of their rookies to follow me around. He's quite the stick in the mud."
Natasha feigned disinterest in looking at Clint as the subject came up, only casting a rolled glanced before returning her gaze back to her intended victim. "They wouldn't send just anyone to watch you though. Surely he must have some sort of skill. Right Mr...?"
She watched Clint, and he looked like he wasn't bothered but she deep down he was probably insulting everyone at the table inside his head. He cleared his throat and made eye contact with her for a brief moment before going back to scoping the room. "Barton. And yes, I have some skill."
They didn't address him again for some time until Natasha knew it was time to get the job over and done with. Natasha put on a pair of gloves she had in her purse and excused herself, saying she had a bit too much to drink. She pretended to stumble, catching herself on the arm of her mark. He forgave her and gave her hand a reassuring pat, not knowing that the gloves were covered in poison.
"Barton, go see how Ms Rushman is doing."
Clint went to take his order without thought and remembered why Rushman sounded familiar, it was an alias that Natasha used when they were teenagers and got in trouble during the holidays. As he walked down the hall, he wondered where she was now and if she was at least some form of happy.
He turned the corner and saw a red headed maid leave the bathroom and raised his voice. "Is Ms Rushman alright? I have to watc-"
Natasha turned around to face him. She was no longer in disguise, well, the maid costume was a disguise but she looked like how she was supposed to look. She didn't say anything, she just watched him work out the details himself, and figured that she had about two minutes before she had to clear out entirely.
"Couldn't come up with a new alias? And a widow? You're a little young for that." He scratched at his eyebrow as he took a step forward. He had his wand out for the whole night, but now he had it in his hand, ready for use.
She moved towards him, not giving away any expression on her face, except indifference. She didn't expect him to back up from her and she was correct in that assumption. He stayed where he was as she raised her hands to his face and pulled it close to hers. She leaned up to him and put her lips against his cheek for a soft kiss before whispering in his ear. "Don't touch the gloves."
He pulled away and saw that her hands were bare and realized the gloves she had on earlier must be in the bathroom. The same gloves that the man he was supposed to be watching had touched.
At that moment he heard shouting from the dining room and became distracted. He turned towards the sound stupidly, forgetting how close Natasha was to him. He realized his error when he felt the wind knocked out him when she hit him in the stomach. Clint stumbled backwards as he saw her take off down the hall.
Natasha sat at her table, in complete disguise as the mark came up, with Clint less than an arms length away at all times. This changed her plan, but not enough to make her worry. She would just have to be creative. Aside from Clint showing up, everything went as planned. Her target was across from her, making small talk, saying it was a shame that a woman so young is already a widow.
"The Ministry seems to think that I'm in danger, and have sent one of their rookies to follow me around. He's quite the stick in the mud."
Natasha feigned disinterest in looking at Clint as the subject came up, only casting a rolled glanced before returning her gaze back to her intended victim. "They wouldn't send just anyone to watch you though. Surely he must have some sort of skill. Right Mr...?"
She watched Clint, and he looked like he wasn't bothered but she deep down he was probably insulting everyone at the table inside his head. He cleared his throat and made eye contact with her for a brief moment before going back to scoping the room. "Barton. And yes, I have some skill."
They didn't address him again for some time until Natasha knew it was time to get the job over and done with. Natasha put on a pair of gloves she had in her purse and excused herself, saying she had a bit too much to drink. She pretended to stumble, catching herself on the arm of her mark. He forgave her and gave her hand a reassuring pat, not knowing that the gloves were covered in poison.
"Barton, go see how Ms Rushman is doing."
Clint went to take his order without thought and remembered why Rushman sounded familiar, it was an alias that Natasha used when they were teenagers and got in trouble during the holidays. As he walked down the hall, he wondered where she was now and if she was at least some form of happy.
He turned the corner and saw a red headed maid leave the bathroom and raised his voice. "Is Ms Rushman alright? I have to watc-"
Natasha turned around to face him. She was no longer in disguise, well, the maid costume was a disguise but she looked like how she was supposed to look. She didn't say anything, she just watched him work out the details himself, and figured that she had about two minutes before she had to clear out entirely.
"Couldn't come up with a new alias? And a widow? You're a little young for that." He scratched at his eyebrow as he took a step forward. He had his wand out for the whole night, but now he had it in his hand, ready for use.
She moved towards him, not giving away any expression on her face, except indifference. She didn't expect him to back up from her and she was correct in that assumption. He stayed where he was as she raised her hands to his face and pulled it close to hers. She leaned up to him and put her lips against his cheek for a soft kiss before whispering in his ear. "Don't touch the gloves."
He pulled away and saw that her hands were bare and realized the gloves she had on earlier must be in the bathroom. The same gloves that the man he was supposed to be watching had touched.
At that moment he heard shouting from the dining room and became distracted. He turned towards the sound stupidly, forgetting how close Natasha was to him. He realized his error when he felt the wind knocked out him when she hit him in the stomach. Clint stumbled backwards as he saw her take off down the hall.