Fraser, Natasha, and Felix, Backdated to Halloween

[om_black_widow]

Natasha gives Fraser a memorable dance lesson before his father interrupts. Felix is there to entertain her, though, while Fraser is otherwise occupied.

Fraser had agreed to let Felix pick his costume for the evening, so he was feeling a bit overt with the glitter and peacock themed apparel. This would be why he was lingering discretely by the drinks table, sipping carefully at a glass of punch.

Natasha moved stealthily through the crowd, using her hands to keep down the light fabric of her dress. Finally, once she was behind her quarry, she jumped forward and wrapped her hands over his eyes from behind. "Happy Halloween, Benton," she murmured near his ear.

Fraser wasn't startled by the sudden sensory deprivation, but his breath caught when it was coupled with the voice by his ear. He knew instantly who it was. It was the tone of her voice as much as the sense of winter and shadow that seemed to envelope him at her touch. His voice came out hoarser than expected. "Hello, Natasha."

He'd tensed, just slightly, and she smirked a little at the effect she'd clearly had. Natasha slowly, very slowly, uncovered his eyes as she made her way around him so he could see her, her amused expression not changing.

He met her eyes, and barely glanced at her costume as he commented, "You look beautiful tonight."

Her smiled turned slightly more genuine. "So do you. What is your costume of?"

"Felix's doing. He was going for a peacock," Fraser explained. "An artistic approach. He thinks I need more color."

"Hmmmm..." Natasha circled him a little, as though appraising. She looked him up and down, not bothering with subtlety. "And who are you trying to attract?"

Fraser could feel his cheeks warm under her scrutiny. Only then did he get a proper look at her dress and realize that she was stunning from head to toe. This wasn't surprising, but this was a different style on her. He lifted a hand to his collar. "Well, I'm not fanning my feathers, but I seem to have caught the attention of someone quite compelling."

She stepped in closer, and looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes. "You think so, huh?" The corner of Natasha's mouth tipped up. "Do peacocks dance?"

"We're capable, yes," he said softly. "Formally trained, but please pardon any difficulty with modern methods. I've learned to waltz, but I've not learned as successfully how to relax."

Natasha held out a hand to him. "Let's try anyway."

He smiled and took her hand.

She led him out towards the dance floor, hips swaying. "So, the waltz? Sounds like I'm getting to dance with a real gentleman."

His lips quirked. "My grandmother would be disappointed if I said otherwise."

"I prefer ballet, to be honest. But I think I'll save that for a less formal occasion," she teased. Natasha stepped in close, not quite pressed against him but near enough that it was a close thing. She could feel the gentle heat of his body, and she looked up at him to meet his eyes.

Fraser slipped his hand on to her waist. His pulse thudded at her proximity. "I can pull off a tango or foxtrot when duty calls. But less formal. Shall we try?"

"Mmm." Natasha slid a hand, slowly, up his torso until it rested on his shoulder. "Let's."

Less formal called for swaying to the rhythm. It was very difficult not to immediately step to the rhythm as well. Even in heels Natasha was shorter than him, much more compact, and she fit very comfortably against him. Fraser was very aware of precisely how she fit.

Natasha smiled, and let her other hand come to rest gently on Fraser's hip, guiding him gently. "See," she murmured, "you just have to feel your way through. Move on instinct."

Fraser tipped his head down and confessed to her quietly, "My instinct is to step forward and lead you. Occasionally the first instinct is an efficiently trained one."

If anyone could understand the sentiment, it was Natasha. So she nodded once, and then stepped in a few inches closer, so that her body just brushed his. "Then listen to what your partner's body is telling you, and let your body talk back," she suggested. "A conversation, not a performance."

He found himself at a loss for words and just nodded helplessly. Conversation. He wasn't very good at that. Listening? Okay, that he could manage.

Natasha finally slid both her hands up to rest on his shoulders, just before they joined his neck. If it meant her thumbs occasionally brushed the warm skin there, it was mere coincidence. The way her hips moved, however, could never be categorized as accidental.

Fraser knew it must only be his imagination, but his skin felt on fire under her touch. He moved with her to the rhythm because if he didn't he was afraid they would end up rocking together in a way that would be both indecent and embarrassing.

Natasha pushed up, just a little on to her toes so her mouth was just below his ear, ostensibly so he could hear her. "You're doing well," she assured him softly.

Fraser laughed softly. It felt like she was teasing him as well as trying to reassure him. "I promise, I'm not a fawn. I'm not going to spook."

She pulled back just enough that he could see her smile. "Just making sure."

"When I'm afraid I tend to walk head on into whatever daunts me," Fraser admitted. "If I shied away from everything new I wouldn't be here. So as much as I fear treading on you, I'll be right here as long as you'd like."

"That's quite a promise," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow.

"I imagine not," Fraser said, thinking she would tire of him and likely want to return to her friends at some point.

Natasha let her thumb trace along the edge of his collar. "What if I keep you all night?"

He was surprised by the suggestion, but managed to answer, "If you wish."

She chuckled. "Don't worry. I won't ask that kind of commitment tonight."

It was the word tonight that made him clumsy, narrowly avoiding tripping over their feet. To compensate, Fraser lifted her with the arm around her waist, turning them and setting Natasha down safely.

Natasha smirked, just a little, in satisfaction at the effect she had had on him. Once he set her down (and he was fit, wasn't he?), she pressed in so they were dancing body to body.

He focused on not stepping on her. Their positions were greatly distracting. Her head tucked just beneath his chin, so when he tipped his face down to say something her hair brushed against his skin. He forgot what it was he'd planned on saying.

She ran her fingers against the short hairs at the back of his neck.

Fraser had the sudden sense that he was buried in snow again. His motion didn't falter, but he shivered, the hand at her waist flexed.

"Nice and loose," she murmured against him.

Fraser shut his eyes and tried to remember to relax. He was succeeding incrementally when another voice startled him back to rigidness.

"I remember when I was your age dancing this close to a young woman was tantamount to a marriage proposal," Bob Fraser commented. Fraser looked over Natasha's shoulder to see his father standing there, in full uniform per normal. He appeared to be holding a glass of punch.

He'd tensed, but not in the tightly-strung pleasant way she had intended. Natasha pulled back, just enough that she could look up at Fraser's face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry," Fraser said. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" He glanced apologetically at Natasha, and then back to his father. It'd been some time since his father's last appearance, and he couldn't have picked a more inconvenient time to make his presence known. Fraser let his hands fall and took a step back from Natasha.

She was somewhat surprised, and honestly a little disappointed, but her face remained placid as ever. "Sure," Natasha said, just a touch coolly, taking a step back.

"I'm sorry," Fraser repeated, looking torn. His father looked like he had something else to say though, and before he could comment amidst his peers, Fraser went to him and tried to steer the ghost away from the party. There were a few more students these days that could actually see ghosts, and the sight of a mountie in the middle of the party might startle someone. "Dad," he said quietly as he moved them away from Natasha, "What are you doing here?"

As he headed away from the crowd he continued to converse quietly. To the normal spectrum, it must have looked questionable.

Natasha kept a surreptitious eye on Benton Fraser as he walked away, speaking quietly to himself. She could have gone to find Clint, but she suspected he was somewhere with Coulson, and she had no desire to interrupt that. So instead she observed.

Fraser appeared to be having a frustrating conversation with the air. He shoved his hands into his pockets before glancing at the party. With a sigh, he turned and led the shade away toward the woods.

Did she need to silently follow him? No, but she did it anyway. She smiled slightly shyly at various classmates as she left, and then silently trailed Fraser towards the woods. Careful. She had to be careful. If she got too close, he would sense her. If she made any sound, he would certainly hear her. Natasha had to be careful as could be.

Felix had begun nudging his way across the room as soon as he'd seen the full-bodied, full-color apparition materialize near Benton on the dance floor. The poor thing had scurried away from his pretty dance partner so quickly, something had to be wrong, but Benton had gotten away before Felix could make his way to them. Instead, he was a few steps behind the girl, Natasha, and not particularly stealthy.

"It's not you," Felix called when he got within earshot of Natasha and they were both outside of the gym, away from the party noise. "I promise."

She'd turned to face him as soon as she'd heard him approaching. It was not as though he had not wanted her too; no attempt seemed to have been made to hide his approach. Natasha hummed non-noncommittally, as though unpersuaded. In truth, she didn't think it had to do with her at all, but there was no reason to share that. "What is it?"

Felix paused a few steps away, touching the ends of his costume wings to keep them from wobbling or getting in the way. The girl's expression was a bit unexpected, but then again, Felix didn't know very many girls. He thought she'd be more reassured. "Has Benton told you about his father at all? I'm afraid the older Mr. Fraser interrupted at an inopportune moment. He's not corporeal, I'm afraid."

They had been interrupted by Fraser's father? It was like an American sitcom, and Natasha let the ends of her mouth tip up, just a little. Fraser could see what others could not. But this other boy... "And you can see him?" She asked.

He bent at the waist, briefly but not too fast, in a polite bow. "Yes. My name is Felix, and I'm Benton's roommate. I can see the astral impressions of the dead as part of my power. Mr. Fraser is certainly the most persistent and, erm... well, inconvenient ghost I've ever witnessed. I believe Benton is often shaken up by his appearances."

Natasha looked at Felix curiously. "Is it merely seeing the dead, or something about his father, do you think?"

"I... don't think his father is always very tactful," replied Felix after a moment's thought, with carefully-chosen words. "But he doesn't pay much attention to me, when I do see him. I imagine he's a bit of a handful for Benton to deal with."

Benton's father being dead certainly explained why he'd only ever really spoken about his grandparents, and once again Natasha felt that slight sliver of discomfort at the idea of this astral, spirit world. "I see."

Felix hesitated for a moment -- comforting people really wasn't his forte -- before he offered, "I'm sure Benton didn't mean to be rude. He has wonderful manners. It's just they, the ghosts I mean, they can make it hard to ignore them. An adult ghost dressed in a formal Canadian Mountie uniform spouting helpful advice is very hard to ignore."

Benton Fraser's father had been part of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Well. That was very interesting. She wasn't sure if that explained his seeming naivete, or if that could be attributed to something else. Still, she filed it away. "I'm sure he didn't mean to be rude. He seems too nice for that."

"He is perfectly sweet," Felix agreed with a small smile. "I hope you see fit give him another chance." Privately, he would be very pleased to see his roommate dating a lovely girl at last.

"He's a good roommate, then?" Her voice was utterly innocuous, but internally she was certainly interested in the answer.

Felix's smile warmed a fraction. Benton had earned a measure of his affection. "Thoughtful, patient, tidy, considerate... one could hardly ask for a better roommate. I don't know if he'd say the same for me," he added, with a hint of mischief. "I'm not half the gentleman Benton is."

"You're not?" She quirked an eyebrow, as though encouraging him to continue.

Now Felix noticed he was being led, because this was a tactic he used when he didn't want to talk about himself. He tipped his head thoughtfully before answering, "Certainly not. Benton would never detain a young lady to natter on about himself, when she would probably rather be chasing down her date."

Natasha shrugged. "If it's his father, I'd hate to interrupt him." She said, as though legitimately concerned for Benton's privacy.

What a sweet girl. Felix thought for a moment, then offered his arm. "In that case, perhaps I could escort you to punch and cupcakes until Benton has finished his conversation?"

She weighed her options rapidly. Going with Felix would mean she lost her opportunity to hear what Fraser said when unaware he was being watched. On the other hand, it would preserve what good will she seemed to have earned with Benton's roommate, and would prevent any obvious recognition as to what she'd been up to. "That's very kind of you," she said, taking his arm.

Felix was fairly certain that Fraser wouldn't have gone all the way outside if he really didn't want to be interrupted. Best to afford him his privacy, Felix thought. "I promise to deliver you directly back to Benton just as soon as he's ready," Felix promised, leading the way back to the party, a perfect gentleman escort.

* * *

Fraser's father had much to say, and it was a quarter of an hour before he wisped away, leaving Fraser awkwardly at the edge of the woods. He hesitated before heading back to the party, not sure how to explain his rude exit. Conversations with his father were nearly always awkward, and conversations about his father weren't much better. Fraser trudged into the party, glancing around for familiar faces so that he might hide in their presence. His first impulse was to find Felix, since there was no reason for anyone to notice him next to his charismatic roommate. He was surprised when he saw that Felix was standing with Natasha.

Oh. Well. Hiding shamefully near Felix was off the table then.

Natasha noticed Benton's return, however much he appeared to be attempting to hide it. Interesting. She wondered if he were simply embarrassed, given his abrupt exit, or if he had some other reason to want to avoid her. When Felix turned to look at something, she slipped away, making her way towards Benton unnoticed.

Felix had glanced away, distracted by a very shiny and glittering costume on one of his classmates. When he blinked back to praise it to Natasha, he was quite surprised to find the space she had been occupying completely empty. He turned one way, then the other, unsure just how quite he'd lost her. Perplexed, he drank from his punch, and wondered if he could still catch the wearer of said shiny costume before they, too, got away.

This time Fraser turned before Natasha snuck up on him completely. While he might want to hide, he couldn't very well do so in plain sight. His senses were on edge, and she moved towards him like a winter wind. "Hello again," he said quietly.

Her eyebrows rose at his soft tone. "Are you alright?"

"Ah, yes," he said, hoping to sound assuring, but still coming across subdued.

"You don't sound sure," Natasha observed. She took a few steps closer, and gave him a slight smile. "I'll save the rest of our dance for next time, okay?"

It was a relief that she didn't seem to be annoyed that he'd so hastily bailed on her. He mustered a smile. "For next time."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek before winking at him. "Next time, Benton Fraser."

And there he was, speechless again.