Not That Lucky

#01: Agents, Russians, and Bears, Oh My!

Disclaimer: Obvi I don't own marvel or any of that, but also if you see this story on AO3 by someone with the same username that's b/c it's me. I'm just also posting it here. Also, warning that this story has canon violence (if you can watch the movies you can handle the level of violence here) and a good bit of language. Just FYI. Also i will make a legit cover soon. Pinky promise. 

Love y'all!

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"I think we consider too much the luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm."  -Franklin D. Roosevelt

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He followed her into the dimly lit hallway with only a slight raise of his eyebrows. The shorter red head in front of him walked with confidence, the shimmery golden mini dress clinging to her hips as she moved.

"Don't stare at my ass, Barton."

Clint groaned and picked up his pace a step so he'd be right next to her. His ribs groaned with every movement, a reminder that his mission last night had been rough. He grinned and ignored the feeling of his half healed busted lip ripping open again, "I know it's your turn to plan date night, but why's it gotta be in some shady nightclub the day after we get back from the worst mission ever?"

"It wasn't a bad mission. You're just upset that it ended with you getting thrown into a dumpster. Again." Natasha glanced at him, her red lips curling up into a teasing smirk. Clint huffed in annoyance. If he had a quarter for every time he ended up in a dumpster for some reason or another, he'd be 75 cents richer. Which granted wasn't a lot of money, but it was weird that it happened that many times. Plus, he'd at the very least be getting something for all the trouble. He couldn't keep stealing Tony Stark's card for coffee in the morning. Natasha slipped her arm through his, "Besides, this isn't a nightclub or date night. We're on a new mission."

They turned the corner into a madhouse of people cheering as others fought in hand to hand combat. Clint let her drag him along as his eyes took in all the sights. There were caged off areas where two people fought as a crowd gathered around them to cheer and bet money. Unlike the hallway they had just been in, this area was well lit and large.

Large and well-organized.

For an underground fighting ring to look like this, it must have had some serious support. Both from someone with a lot of money and someone with a lot of power.

"I don't remember Fury sending us an assignment." Clint mumbled. The noise alone made him want to turn his hearing aids off, but if this was a mission, the last thing he wanted to do was leave Natasha without someone fully aware watching her back. The crowd to their left side roared again as a fight ended.

Natasha pulled Clint towards the right where an even larger crowd was formed, "Mission's not from Fury. It's more of a...favor."

"Favor for who?"

"Steve."

Clint shot her a questioning look that was immediately ignored. He watched as the red head painted a sly smile on her lips, gripped him by the hand, and split the crowd in front of her. All it took was her pressing forward and anyone who tried to argue let the words die on their lips when their eyes landed her form.

Natasha was incredible at laying low and flying below the radar. If she didn't want to be seen then no one was going to set an eye on her. However, she was also very good at attracting and holding attention. The woman had a talent for fitting the mold she needed to fit into.