Budapest

Chapter 16

Natasha: When we told Fury our plan, he was less than enthusiastic.

"You want to do what, Agent Barton?" he asked.

"I want to be the man that Romanov here marries to get into the US," Clint said.

Fury sighed, putting his head down and rubbing his temples. "Barton," he began, "You are my very best agent. Out of respect to you, I would like to advise you against this at this juncture."

"Sir, with all due respect, I disagree. She needs this," Clint said.

"Barton, you just met her. Like, litterally, you've known her for 4 days," Fury said.

"And I only have to put up with her for two years," Clint said.

"Yeah, and then divorce her," Fury said, "Believe me that is harder than you seem to think it is."

"I'll sign a prenup," I cut in.

"You make it sound like I just have those on hand for the off chance one of my agents wants to marry a Russian want-to-be Fugitive," Fury said.

"I'm doing this with or without your consent. But you said if she killed Drakeov she could have a spot. If I do this, it gives her the ability to get into the US," Clint said, "To me, this looks like the best option."

"Or you could just wait for her to gain some actually credibility with the US," Fury said, "Barton, you don't even know if she's still lying."

"She won't go through with it if she is," Clint said.

Fury sighed, scartching his forehead. Then he shook his head, "To save your butt, Barton, I'll make some calls about that prenup. YOu two figure the rest of this crazy plan out."

I was kind of surprised when Clint smiled that the plan was going to work out.

"So where do you want to do this?" Clint asked.

We went down to the Lobby to discover, much to our convenience , that the hotel offered wedding services.

"What days do you have open?" I asked, "Clint and I," I pulled Clint closer to me, plastering a cheesy, overly happy grin on my face, "We came to Budapest seperate, but we met and now we just can't wait another second."

"Excellent," the secretary said, "The next full day we have open is in October."

"Seriously?" I asked.

"We don't need a full day," Clint put in, "Even 15 minutes would do."

"That's really not how we work," the secretary said, "But how soon do you need it?"

"We ship home to the US in two days," I interjected. As it was I was sure Drakeov was suspisious. Clint nodded and played along.

"Well, maybe we could fit in 15 minutes tomorrow. And you said you were from the US?"

"Yes," Clint said.

"I'll check but we should be able to accommodate that," she said with a smile.

"Thank you so much," I said, smiling. So we finalized everything that needed to be done previous to the day, then we were off.

"I've got a Prenup printing off now," Fury said, whom had been waiting for us outside the chapel.

"So what else needs to be done?" Natasha asked.

"Nothing. You'll just sign the papers, we'll fax them to one of our lawers, and then you guys can go skip off into the sunset," Fury said, the last part overflowing with sarcastic tone.

I signed the prenup without a hint of regret, picked out a cheap ring for Clint, which he purchased in an effort to conceal it from Drakeov, and before long, I was tossing and turning in my own room. They finally agreed to let me go back to my own room, since Fury was not about to share a bed with Clint, and Clint and I mutually agreed sleeping in the same bed was not going to be a part of our retionship, at least at this juncture. Of course, I didn't sleep well. I kept imagining what Alexi would say at my decision. He always had a traditional view on life, even from the young age of 10. I knew he would hate the idea of me getting married out of convienence. He would have told me how this wasn't the best way to go about getting what I wanted.

Stop I thought to myself. I closed my eyes just trying to fall asleep. I was getting what I wanted, one way or another.

The next day a knock came on my door, the clock next to my bed reading 6:00 AM. I rubbed my eyes and answered.

"Good, you're still here," Clint said, "We're scheduled for 11:00. But um, I have a personal request."

"Shoot," I said, my voice still groggy.

"Wear a dress," Clint said.

"I thought we agreed we weren't going to make this real," I argued.

"But I would still feel wrong if I was marrying a girl in a cat suit. Please. For me?" he asked.

I figured I owed him enough already.

"Fine," I consented. Clint smiled.

"I'll see you at 11:00. Be there or I'll hunt you down if its the last thing I do," he threatened. I smiled a little to myself, then closed to door.

I changed into the black dress I had worn the night of the gala. It felt like it had been ages since I put it on. I put on red lipstick and let my hair fall over my shoulders. Then I waited for Clint.

"Really, black?" he asked when he arrived. To my amazement, he wore the black tux pants from the party, along with the white shirt. Maybe he was taking this more seriously than I was.

"I wasn't about to where white," I said, "Not to mention I wasn't about to put a new dress on Drakeov's tab. Not this late anyway."

"Has he called?" Clint asked.

"No. He won't either. That would require him to care about your well being. He just hopes you show up eventually, and if you don't then so be it," I explained. The doors to the chapel opened, and the minister pointed us in.

He went into the vows. Something about having and holding, loving and cherishing, blah blah blah. Finally it came my time to put the ring on. It was a gold and tungsten combination, the black and the gold clashing together to make just the right contrast.

"Repeat after me," the minister said, "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love."

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love," I repeated, glad at the moment for my excellent lying skills.

"With this ring I marry you," the minister said.

"With this ring I marry you," I repeated. I slid the ring on Clint's finger. In that moment I knew I couldn't look into his eyes. It felt wrong.

I barely listened as Clint said his part, but I felt the cold weight of the ring, as it slid on my finger. I looked down at it. It was silvery with elegant swirls or the metal around a small firey red gem. I had to say, it was beautiful, even if it only made this harder.

"Do you, Clint Barton, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the minister asked Clint.In that moment, I questioned whether or not I wanted him to say yes.

"I do," Clint said, his voice sure, but not quite certain. Does that make any scense?

"Do you Natasha Romanov, take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the minister asked me.

For the first time since the beginning of the ceremony I looked up at Clint. He seemed so sure this was a good move. I knew I couldn't betray him.

"I do," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the minister said.

I got ready to kiss Clint. When out lips met, I didn't feel the uncertainty, even if this was the binding moment. This moment was the beginning of changing everything.

Maybe even for the better.