Budapest
Clint:
Clint cursed the day that his assignment led him to this bloody city. It was supposed to be a simple in, assassinate the guy, and back out. Do things ever go that way for him? No. This time the plan failed because they found the body too soon.
And found the body of the same guy’s brother just a few doors down. This wasn’t his day, and he was cursing Budapest all over again.
He hears the cops talking about detaining every lone tourist, and wants to bang his head against the bar he is sitting in front of him. Talk about a bad day getting worse.
Clint turns away from the voices and locks gazes with the red hair beauty coming his way. Her eyes are sparkling, and he can tell that she is just as interested in him as he is in her. She steps up next to him, full body on body.
“But me a drink?” The beauty purrs out, and Clint is already raising his hand for the bartender to come his way. “Vodka.” She gives the order, and Clint is impressed when she drinks it down.
The police are looking around the place when one of Clint’s ideas pops in. “Care to dance?” Live music is playing in the background and he has a hand out for her to grab, or not, as her choice may be.
“Of course.” She turns the words in a way he isn’t quite familiar with, but all it does is draw him more into her spell.
He pulls her farther out into the floor, and the two of them dance.
A few more drinks, and a lot more flirtation, Clint has his hands on her waist and her tongue down his throat.
It doesn’t stop at that…But Clint isn’t one to kiss and tell.
Natasha:
Natasha, aka The Black Widow, wanted to go back and wring whoever’s neck that found the body before she had planned. She had a jet ready to go at her call, but all flights were being postponed until they found the assassin that took out the minister.
Not that they were going to find them. Natasha could tell a professional hit when she saw one, and her hits were always professional.
Which leads back to her problem of escaping Budapest. Too many eyes were looking at foreigners, and she needed to find a way to not appear as a possible assassin. She overhears the officers talking about lone tourists, and that makes her look around for possibilities.
She ducks into the first place she sees, which just happens to be a bar. It’s not a bad place, but she knows they are just a bit behind her when the footsteps reach her ears. A plan…
Her eyes scan the place and lock on the only other foreigner in the place. His light skin tone put him into only a few classifications, but she was going to bet on American.
She catches her eyes, and puts on her seductress act like a cloak. She walks his way, careful to keep his eyes on her and not on anyone else. “Buy me a drink?” He seems to be really into this idea because he’s already waving the bartender back his way.
Probably hoping to get lucky, though she isn’t one to judge. With his yummy arms? She was willing to go down that path. Anyway, it’s not as if she can get pregnant.
The Red Room made certain of that.
“Vodka.” Natasha tells the bartender in a calm manner, and waits for her drink to arrive. It’s not the best, like from her homeland, but it’s better than some others that she has had.
She’s just finished the drink when her cover smiles her way. “Care to dance?” Definitely American with that accent. Most likely Midwest, if she was going to try to narrow it down any.
The best way to play a cover is to go along with the ride. “Of course.” She lets him lead to the dance floor, and she moves her body to the rhythm of the music.
She likes what she sees, and even when the danger is gone, she keeps on with the game.
A few more drinks, a couple of more dances, and she follows the man back to his room.
She is one to kiss and tell…but all she’ll say about that night is that it was one she couldn’t wait to repeat with her American.