While it delved into near Bond-levels of cheesy, the two super spies had no other choice.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Clint sighed.
With a hum of agreement, Natasha pushed play and leaned back in her seat with the remote and a notebook on her lap, and settled in for a long shift.
Sixteen grueling hours and eight romcoms later, both Natasha and Clint’s notebooks were full, and they sat down to compare notes for their upcoming undercover mission.
“Ok, we both wrote down flowers, should we set a cap on how much money a bouquet should cost?” Clint asked after a moment of flipping through Natasha’s notes.
“I guess, just-get the person behind the desk to help you out. What about hand holding, that seems like another important aspect to mimic a relationship, along with other PDA. Um. Let’s say we start with holding hands 40% of the time? And I guess we’ll have to kiss when we see each other and say goodbye, but…” Natasha trailed off, uncomfortable imagining kissing her best friend.
“That will be as fast as possible, don’t worry. And 40% seems kinda high? Would 20% be better?”
“I don’t know! The longer we hold hands, the less we have to stare lovingly into each others eyes, so I’d opt for more rather than less.”
“True. Ok, so next we…”
The two continued to hash out details and boundaries until every romantic move they would have to fake was carefully talked through and could be mimicked to near perfection.
Natasha smiled and reached out for Clint’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re going on this mission with me. Anyone else would use it to try to get into my pants when I’d have a harder time saying no.”
Clint just smiled. “I understand. We’ll get through this, there’s no one else I would rather be fake married to than you, after all.”
Looking at his face, Natasha knew that she was incredibly lucky to have a best friend who was the same as her, and so could understand her so well.