There are precious few missions that require both Black Widow and Hawkeye to go conspicuously undercover. These missions are Natasha's favorites. During her time at SHIELD, she comes up with a hundred reasons why. For a long time, she settles on the pleasantry of having someone to watch her back after a lifetime of working alone. When she and Clint spend a memorable few days (and nights) together in the Bahamas, she figures out the rest of the reason: she enjoys showing off her man.
Their first mission post-Avengers asks them to pose as a wealthy couple at a ball. Clint just arches an eyebrow and says, "I'll get my tux re-fitted."
Natasha spends the entire plane ride adjusting her default rich wife identity to fit the specifications of the mission. She narrates the parts relevant to Clint's character aloud. He takes notes and she still doesn't have the heart to tell him that having to take notes means he's already lost. He'll look like trophy husband material in the tuxedo he'll be fidgeting with all night, and that's all that matters.
Dressing for undercover operations takes a little longer now that they do it in the same room. Natasha shivers when Clint zips up her deep green dress and then rests his hands on her hips. She turns around and does up the last of his buttons. "Save it for the ballroom," she says, grinning. She wants to enjoy this, too; they never get to dress up as themselves.
"I'm saving it for the bedroom, which I'm told is the appropriate thing."
Clint always kisses her before she puts on her lipstick. He's courteous like that.
They make it to the ballroom fashionably late. Natasha Romanoff disappears into Black Widow who disappears into Nathalie Richards, heir to a small but comfortable fortune. Her mother was French, hence her name and her command of the language. She met her husband in a bowling alley and married for love rather than money. They hope to have children after spending a year traveling the world. All this happens in a ride in an elevator and a walk down two hallways. Clint's staring for more reasons than the dress.
"You look awfully handsome." The phrasing and smile aren't hers, but all three layers of her means them. Clint relaxes enough to go fetch them some hors d'oeuvres as she wends her way to the target. Andrea Morales is 20 years old, a biology student, and the daughter of Bolivia's most notorious drug lord. She fled the country with her mother two years ago, leaving her father and equally notorious half-sister. SHIELD helped her escape in exchange for information. Now there is rumor that her father is dead and one of his daughters is slated to take over his empire.
In Natasha's opinion, the other daughter is a much better candidate, but it does take a lot of money to maintain the lifestyle to which Andrea and her mother are accustomed. Within five minutes of arriving at the party, Nathalie bumps into Andrea and grills the girl about where she acquired such a lovely pair of shoes. Andrea is happy to show off, happier still to share that she has just been promised a lucrative internship at a lab. Nathalie is suitably impressed and makes some remarks about the importance of women in science that leave Andrea nodding her head.
Natasha will run the information by SHIELD, but she already knows it will check out. Andrea's spending money left and right because she has a job coming, and not one that involves cocaine. It would be smarter to sign a contract first, but she's young and excited. Not drug lord material at all.
"This was a waste of time," Natasha grumbles when Clint finds her in the throng of people. She accepts a flute of champagne but passes on the pâte. The socialites are busy mingling and no one will look twice if she drops the act for a few minutes. "Does Fury think we've gone soft? Every mission after we put away Loki has been easier than the last."
"Maybe Fury is letting us enjoy our honeymoon."
Natasha eyes him. "I don't recall marrying you."
"I've got a ring that proves otherwise." Clint wiggles his left hand at her, smirking. "Don't tell me it was all just for show. You'll break my poor heart."
"Is your delicate heart up for a dance?" Natasha asks, holding out her arms.
Clint takes one of her hands and puts his other hand on her hip. His smile softens as he looks at her. His poker face is awful. Natasha shakes her head and offers him an answering smile. She can't put too much of her heart in it in such a public location, but she knows Clint will see it just the same.
She puts Nathalie back on as they dance, of course. It wouldn't be professional to be herself with so many eyes on them both. Nathalie is the kind of woman who lets her husband dip her back and kiss her in public, though, and that suits Natasha just fine.