"Oh, Madrid isn't bad," she chimes in thoughtfully, having not considered it, and she looks as if she's mentally weighing the options as she starts to stretch as well. Despite the fact that she's spent the night moving with nothing but grace and complete certainty it's obvious that she suddenly doesn't care, like a switch has been flipped. She's bending over to stretch her legs before rising up and carrying one leg with her, the dress pinned properly to keep her covered despite the fact that she's not moving in a very 'lady-like' manner. That's irrelevant now, though, because now there's a competition, and she can go back to playing a part later. Right now, there's something to win.

"Montreal." She says it with immediate certainty as soon as it passes his lips and she nods, giving a little grin. It's a harder routine but it's something that they worked hard on and something that she actually enjoyed; different from the ballets and waltz that she grew up having to recite. "We haven't done that one in a while and it's a fun one. I doubt anyone will have anything that can follow it up, but if they do." She gives a facial shrug. The one that says 'we'll just kill them' without her having to say it aloud. If she gets caught for treason, it'll never be from speaking with Clint. Between the sign language and the way they can read each other, half of their language isn't even spoken anymore.

She finishes stretching her other leg before she rolls her shoulders, one after the other, and when she's finally ready Natasha gives a cocky smile and offers a hand out to Clint. "Ready for a dance, Force?"