"Where Did You Learn to Dance?"

The amused smirk on Natasha's face makes Clint bristle.

He ignores her and selects a crystal glass of fresh water from the buffet table... Ironic, he thinks, when the majority of the nation they're currently in drink muddied, chemical filled water. He takes a careful sip, reminding himself to keep in the role of a refined stock-holder. But oh, how he hates it. He's never comfortable playing roles, exchanging himself for different characters. It certainly doesn't come easy for him.

It does to Natasha.

He drains his glass and turns to see her still looking at him, amused. For this mission, she's playing the part of his secretary, a role that keeps her in close proximity to his.  Her thick red hair is rolled into a French twist, with little tendrils teased out and brushing her bare shoulders. When they'd arrived at this soiree, she'd had a wrap around her shoulders, but had forgone it between then and now, and had danced with an even dozen of men, probably allured by how dazzling she looked in the black silk dress she wore. Clint thinks that if all the big-wig secretaries dressed like her, there may be not many left in the business. Playing roles or not, Natasha had the uncanny ability to make men simply swoon for her.

He scowls now at her expression. "What?"

"It's just... Where did you learn to dance?" She asks.

"What's wrong with my dancing?" He had just come from the floor after a waltz with some PM's daughter. He didn't think it had gone badly...but then, he had also kept noticing Natasha out of the corner of his eye, gliding easily with a dark eyed Romanian.

"You're as stiff as a board when you dance. You're supposed to lead... Not her".

Across the room, Clint sees the same PM's daughter with her gloved hands behind her back, attempting to stretch the muscles there. He winces.

"Maybe you're right.." he mumbles.

Natasha steps in front of him, so he has to look down at her. "Where did you learn? Surely to prepare you for these sort of things, you had lessons?" Natasha prompts .

"Nope. Phil just sent me a box of VHS tapes. Twelve lessons in all".

Natasha gawks at him. "So you didn't learn with a partner?"

"Hey... I used my body pillow for evening things out."

Natasha rolls her eyes. "Offer me your hand".

"Why?"

"So it looks like you're asking me to dance. Quickly, before that guy headed our way makes it over here".

Clint looks where her eyes indicate, and sure enough, a dark-skinned, pompadoured and tailed man is headed their way, his eyes greedily on Natasha. He offers his hand and pretends to lead her onto the floor, though it is definitely her doing the leading.

"Let's fix this. Shoulders back... Stand up straight, but not wooden... You should still look relaxed and at ease..." Natasha murmurs.

"You should try standing up relaxed in a cummerbund". Clint responds through gritted teeth, but he sees Natasha's mouth twitch in a smile.

"Are you going to lead?" Clint asks as the string quartet picks up a waltz tempo.

"No. The woman doesn't lead. But she makes the man want to lead," She twirls to face him, the red tendrils sweeping her pale shoulders. "Take this hand... And your other hand should guide my hip..." Clint follows her instructions, swallowing his nerves. Natasha places her free hand on his shoulder and looks up into his face.

"You look at me. Not anyone else. Your dancing partner deserves your full attention. And you keep your ear to the music... You follow it.." she squeezes his shoulder, indicating that she wants him to move. He finds his feet obeying, and his eyes never leaving hers as she continues an easy smile while murmuring instructions to him... "Step and count.. one, two, back, turn... One step forward.." And she's right, he finds himself leading her easily, aware of the many pairs of jealous eyes watching them. They glide across the polished floor easily.

The dance is over all too soon. He remembers that he's supposed to bow at the end. As he does, he asks, "was that better?"

Natasha lifts her skirts out of a curtsy and smiles.  "Much improved. You're ready for the next partner".

Clint holds his hand out to her as the music strikes up again. He grins at her, thinking how beautiful she looks under the chandelier lights. "You said the woman makes the man want to lead...right?"

Natasha looks at him for a moment, realizing that maybe, just maybe, she's been played.

But then she smiles and places her hand in his.

------------------The End-----------------------