<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/pcUYv.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Natasha Romanoff<br/><strong>Title:</strong>Black Widow<br/><strong>Locale:</strong>Stark Tower: Landing Pad<br/><strong>Time:</strong>7:28 pm, Eastern<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Clint<br/><hr/><br/>The corners of Natasha's full lips curled into an enigmatic smile and she blew a small puff of air out of her nose that might have been a tiny scoff. "Who the hell even says that?" she asked, sounding more playful than mocking. Noting the subtle provocation carried over within Clint's tone of voice and the way that he puffed his chest forward slightly, she wasted no time in pushing the envelope ever further, never having been one to shy away from a challenge.<br/><br/>Natasha leaned in even closer than she already was, so much so that the swell of her breasts grazed against his chest as she pulled herself up slightly, using her hand for leverage. Since Clint had four inches or so on her, she had to tilt her head back slightly to look up into his eyes, though he too was rather skilled at keeping his true feelings hidden behind a sober veil of self-control, making it impossible to get much of a read.<br/><br/>"Soon...but let's get out of this wind first." They were close enough that Clint would be able to feel the warmth of her breath against his skin. "And I don't know about you, but I could use a drink or two," Natasha added while gently pushing herself away from him, her movements flowing and graceful. The hand which had been pressed against Clint's chest slid up so that one finger could softly trace a line beneath his chin, beckoning him to follow her as she made her way back inside to the common living area which conveniently had a bar stocked with just about any brand of alcohol that one could wish for.<br/><br/>Once they'd made it down there, Natasha wasted no time in getting behind the bar, scooping a few ice cubes into a glass before twirling a bottle of vodka in one hand and a bottle of coffee liqueur in the other as if she'd been making cocktails her entire life. "What would you like?" she asked while pouring the ingredients to her own Black Russian, a slight smile still discernible upon her face.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Continued in Stark Tower - Living Quarters &amp; Common Areas</span> (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=144301.msg6500072#msg6500072)</div>