Warnings: none
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Phil Coulson
Genres: hurt/comfort, fluff | Smut: yes, explicit
Word count: 19594 | Status: complete
“All right, Agent Barton. You’ve convinced Director Fury,” Coulson said as he stepped back into his office. “You are to fly to Moscow and make contact with Agent Romanoff. Provide assistance with her mission if she deems it necessary.”My comment: So much unapologetic smut.
Swallowing a sigh of relief, Clint picked up the black folder Coulson slid across the desk to him. Natasha was in trouble. Well, she might be in trouble. She had been undercover in Moscow for the last month and a half, and she hadn’t made contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. in the last two weeks. So she might be in trouble, but no one really knew, and Clint wasn’t going to take any chances. This was Natasha, and Clint never fucked around when her safety was on the line.
“That is your identity,” Coulson continued, sitting with his usual precision of movement. “You are Alex Reynolds, the son of an American oil baron, and you are in Moscow for a series of meetings with a Russian petroleum company. This will leave your evenings free to visit The Pigalle, the club where Agent Romanoff is working undercover. Your flight leaves tomorrow morning.”
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