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The agent that comes to fetch her looks about ten years too young to work here. Natasha watches him approach her as confidently as a newborn kitten trying to figure out how to walk. She scares him. She scares a lot of people. Mostly, she makes them uncomfortable.
“Agent Romanoff. Director Fury wants to see you in his office, um, I quote ‘five minutes ago’.”
She leans on her hand, tilts her head a little, and then shoots him a grin that’s all teeth. He straightens up so much she thinks he might hurt himself.
“Then I’d better get going,” she says, unbothered and not at all pressed for time.
She likes Fury well enough. He cut her a fair deal and puts her skills to good use. He doesn’t try to add to her ledger unless necessary, even if the people he sends her after aren’t worth the ink.
So she gets up, chair creaking against the floor and many pairs of eyes looking her way. Half the people here probably hope she gets fired and locked up. Natasha couldn’t care less but she is curious why she’s being summoned.
She gets to Fury’s office seven minutes later. He calls her in when she knocks and she makes herself comfortable in the chair across the desk from him. He doesn’t blink.
“Why am I here?”
“I need you for an extraction,” he says, folder in hand.
Natasha raises an eyebrow. “I don’t do extractions.”
“You do now. Hill and her team are pinned down and they need help. Barton will be joining you.”
“I don’t like either one of these people.”
She owes Clint, a lot, but she hasn’t warmed up to him much more than that yet. He just talks so damn much and his jokes are lame. Natasha prefers silence. And Hill always looks at her like she’s a scourge. It’s not quite like it is with the other agents but it somehow just feels worse.
Fury’s expression hardens as he slides the folder across the desk and into her hands. She doesn’t open it.
“Well, that’s not my damn problem. You know what is? One of my best agents being out there, stuck or quite possibly in enemy hands. So I need you to do your damn job or do you need me to remind you of the terms of your employment?”
Natasha makes a displeased sound but opens the folder. It contains all the info she needs and comes with most of an extraction plan. She’ll have to improvise the rest with Clint depending on the situation.
“Fine. But this is the only time.”
“If it goes well, maybe I’ll consider adding it to your contract,” Fury says but she doubts he will. “Barton’s already waiting for you. You’ll leave in twenty.”
“Yes, sir,” Natasha drawls, clearly not meaning it.
She gets up and leaves without another word from either of them.
She really doesn’t want to do an extraction. The only acceptable exceptions are her own. This feels like a waste of her time and talents, all for people she either doesn’t know or doesn’t like. She’s sure the feelings are mutual.
When she reaches Clint fifteen minutes later, fully geared up, he looks just about ready to backflip out of here. She knows he can sit still but he always seems restless. Maybe he’s just antsy. She doesn’t think he and Hill get along particularly well but he does seem to respect her. Natasha can’t say she shares the sentiment.
“You ready to go?”
She shrugs and they fall in step to get to the jet. He’s flying. They don’t quite trust her enough with the reins yet, she thinks, though that’s probably not true. Even if she has no interest in hijacking a jet and disappearing, it would be prudent of them to test her loyalty more first.
Natasha ignores any and all attempts at small talk while they fly to their destination. She’s here to do a job she doesn’t want to do and she doesn’t need to add more things she doesn’t care for on top of that. Clint gives up fairly quickly. That, at least, she can appreciate. She wants this over with quickly so she can get back to things she actually wants to do. Like sitting in the cafeteria and making people around her uncomfortable. It amuses her.
It takes about an hour before they arrive. Clint parks the jet at the outskirts of their target area, far away enough not to be noticed right away and hopefully close enough to get to quickly to get everyone out. Natasha grabs her gear and heads out. Clint tries the comms as he follows.
“Hill, this is Barton. What’s the situation?”
“About damn time,” comes through the earpiece. “We have two agents injured; nothing severe but we’re running out of time and bullets. We’ve barely been able to hold them off for the past half hour.”
“We’re on our way.”
Hill relays their position to them and Clint rolls out the map of the area he has to find the best approach. He looks up at Natasha. She’s already mapping her way through the area.
“I’m going to find a good vantage point to give you backup and see about thinning their numbers to give Hill’s team a breather,” he says. “You gonna be alright on your own to get them out?”
It takes all of her willpower not to roll her eyes at him. “Yeah,” she says instead.
They discuss for another minute before heading out. He thinks he’s found a promising space on the map and she’s going to weave through the area in a way that allows him to cover her when he’s ready without exposing her needlessly, and without delaying her approach.
It goes well. No matter how she feels about Clint, he’s a reliable partner and an even more reliable shot. Between the two of them, there isn’t much resistance left standing by the time Natasha closes in on the main problem.
She suspects Hill’s team has run out of bullets a while ago, holding out with whatever scraps they were able to get their hands on since. Even with Clint’s help, taking out everyone who’s pinning the team down isn’t going to happen without someone getting hurt; most likely her.
Natasha takes the time to observe her surroundings. The men haven’t noticed her yet and Clint isn’t shooting them to alert them to visitors. Hill’s team is hiding out in a room down the large hall; a space that isn’t going to hold much longer. She’s surprised the wall and door are still standing, considering the amount of bullet holes.
There’s a side door that’s blocked by a bunch of heavy looking crates. She doubts the men had time to put those there deliberately. With some luck, they’re oblivious to the door. She could sneak around but there’s no way she’s going to be able to move those crates without making noise.
“I need a distraction,” she says into her earpiece.
She can practically hear Clint’s smile. He just likes showing off his toys. “Just say when.”
Natasha scuttles around the stacks of crates, making sure to keep out of sight until she reaches the door. This time she talks to Hill.
“There’s a door on the east side. I’m going to unblock it. Don’t dawdle.”
“Understood.”
Even through the comms, she can hear Hill’s annoyance.
“Clint. Now.”
There’s a loud bang and then smoke coming from the direction opposite her. The men are instantly alert, shooting at the source. Natasha takes the time to heave the crates out of the way enough for Hill to be able to open the door and gets her team out.
Another bang echoes, drawing the men away further to allow for safer passage. The two injured agents need help walking at an appropriate speed, slowing down the escape enough that it annoys Natasha. She doesn’t offer to help.
Instead, she takes the lead to make sure they remain unseen and then guides them out while Clint continues to smoke up the area behind them with his arrows.
It takes ten minutes to get everyone back to the jet. No one has said much of anything on the way. Once they’re in the air, one of the uninjured agents does her best to treat the wounds of the others with what supplies are available, while Hill thanks them for the rescue. Natasha can tell it irks her to have to thank her of all people.
“Don’t worry, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here,” Natasha smirks, because she knows it annoys Hill.
“Then why are you?”
“Fury’s orders,” she shrugs.
She spares a glance at the injured agents. Natasha would have left them behind the moment they started being a burden. She’s not going to risk her life to keep people alive who slow her down and endanger her further.
“No one left behind,” Hill scowls as if reading her mind.
Natasha lets her eyes drift back to Hill’s slowly, like she can’t be bothered to acknowledge the remark.
“Is that some American military crap they teach you?”
“No one left behind,” Hill repeats, ignoring the jab. “As much as it would pain me, I wouldn’t even leave you behind.”
Natasha chuckles then, low and mirthless. Hill’s jaw ticks.
“I couldn’t care less. They were dead weight.”
She’s aware everyone but Clint is watching the exchange now. These agents are tired and worn down. One of them looks like he feels guilty for getting hurt; like she’s right and he knows it.
“They’re my people, and I’m gonna make damn sure they all get to go home.”
This time, Natasha shrugs. She looks at them, finds disdain looking back, and smirks. The concept of no one left behind is new to her. She doesn’t see the point. She barely sees the point in a team. One other person is already too much half the time, but four? That just complicates things for no reason.
Hill is still scowling at her like she wants to throw her out of the jet. She probably does. Natasha ignores her and makes herself comfortable.
“You’re welcome,” she says some moments later, undoubtedly reigniting Hill’s steaming mood. “For the rescue.”
The rest of the journey back to base is done with little chatter between Hill’s team. The injured agents are going to be fine by the looks of it, though they’ll need proper medical attention and possibly surgery. Nothing a few weeks of rest can’t fix. Natasha can feel Hill’s stare every so often but she isn’t in the mood anymore to play with that.
When they land, she ignores Clint’s shouts of needing to go see Fury to debrief and report in favor of going to her quarters. Fury can deal with her written report. At this point, she just wants to sleep.
It’s months — and thankfully few interactions with Hill — later that Fury presents her with the worst partner she could possibly think of. Hill looks about as pleased as she is but she covers it up quickly like the good little soldier she is. Natasha doesn’t.
“No,” she just says, ignoring Hill entirely.
Fury gives her a look not unlike when he ordered her on that extraction. She knows she’s not getting out of this any more than she did last time. She just wanted it said for the record.
“You don’t get a say in this. You two are the best I’ve got for this so sort out your issues and do it quickly.”
“There won’t be any issues, sir,” Hill is quick to say.
Natasha shrugs. “Just don’t get in the way.”
At that, Hill does bristle a little and she turns to glare at her. But before she can throw a comeback in Natasha’s face, Fury forcefully slaps the folder in his hands shut.
“If you’re done with your pissing contest, here are the mission details.”
Natasha takes great joy in the way Hill reacts to being chastised. Natasha herself doesn’t care. They both take a folder each as it is presented and thumb through it.
It’s a simple mission. Natasha thinks she could do it by herself. Except there are parts where having a partner would certainly come in handy, and despite her general lack of respect when it comes to Hill, Natasha knows she’s a good agent. She would make this mission easier. Siberia would have to burn before she says that out loud.
“A little breaking and entering and stealing info,” she says eventually. “Doesn’t really need two people.”
Hill glares at her. Natasha doesn’t look up from her folder.
“I’ve decided otherwise,” Fury replies, unimpressed with her efforts to make this a one woman show. “You’re leaving tomorrow at 0800. I expect this to go smoothly so get your shits together.”
“Yes, sir,” Hill says dutifully.
“Sure,” Natasha adds.
When he dismisses them, Natasha is the first one out the door. She has half a mind to go back in and tell him to invest in better soundproofing when she hears him say “give her a chance, Hill.”
It goes south so quickly that Natasha genuinely can’t say what actually happened. One moment they were making their way through the facility, the next she hears a small cry from Hill and they’re under fire. They manage to duck behind cover and Natasha does a quick check to see where Hill’s been hit. It’s her side, which is bleeding a lot despite Hill’s best efforts to will it otherwise.
Natasha chances a glance over their cover to get a headcount of how many hostiles they’re dealing with. It’s only a rough handful but there are likely going to be more within minutes. They need to deal with them now and move on or they’re going to be in real trouble.
“Can you shoot?”
“Is the Earth round?”
“Depends on who you ask,” Natasha says, sliding back down to prep her counter assault.
“Yes, I can shoot,” Hill confirms.
She sounds unsteady already and Natasha files it away for later. She doesn’t have time to worry about her condition right now; they need to get out of here.
They return fire from the safety of their cover when there’s a lull in noise. It has the opposition scrambling for their own cover. They managed to get two down already between the both of them and Natasha is glad that Hill can still aim well enough to land her hits. It’s only a matter of time before the injury gets the better of her.
“You should get out without me,” Hill says unexpectedly.
Natasha doesn’t whip her head around but she does frown at her. Hill was the one to tell her no one gets left behind.
“You’re a hypocrite.”
Hill doesn’t reply. She’s focusing on her breathing, then checks her wound as best as she can without undressing. Then she swaps her focus to her gun.
“I can buy you time. Reinforcements are no doubt on their way and I’m in no condition to move far or quickly.”
Natasha knows that. A few months ago she would have left her without a second thought. It wouldn’t be difficult to circumvent the enemy, especially if they had Hill to focus on. Still.
“Then Fury better be working out an extraction plan.”
Hill looks at her with thoughtful confusion. Natasha doesn’t elaborate. She peeks around cover, finds half a body exposed, and takes the shot. Two left.
“Better plan,” she says when she’s fully hidden again. “I take out these two idiots and you start crawling.”
Hill wants to be offended but her walking speed with this injury is going to be a crawl before long.
“And then what? There’ll be more people coming; you can’t take them all.”
Natasha shrugs like she’s entirely unbothered.
“Better crawl fast.”
And then she’s off, moving from safe space to safe space, closing the distance between herself and the two hostiles left. She wants to preserve ammo for the reinforcements and whatever cover fire Hill is going to need to get out.
It annoys her, the way Hill’s words had stuck with her. But she’s been with SHIELD long enough now to be past the phase of amusement at everyone’s reactions to her. It doesn’t matter if they fear her. Natasha wants to be respected as a fellow agent. The kind of respect that Hill commands.
So Natasha makes herself a target to give Hill the time to get somewhere safe. Taking out the two remaining men is easy but she can already hear the heavy thuds of more people coming their way.
They’re a floor above ground level and if Hill needs to find stairs, they’re never going to get anywhere. Mostly because stairs are closer to her than Hill, meaning they’re closer to enemy fire than safety. But there are windows. She spots movement that she knows is Hill so she tells her to duck. The window shatters with enough bullets put into it.
“Now or never,” she adds.
The reinforcements are about to burst into the office space. Hill needs to be gone by the time that happens. Jumping down a level with her injury isn’t the best idea but it’s better than the alternative. At least they aren’t higher up.
She watches Hill give her a look across the space before she jumps through. Natasha ducks for cover and tries to weave back to exit the same way.
When reinforcements arrive, she stills long enough to count how many there are. There’s a dozen of them. If Hill were still here and uninjured, she wouldn’t be worried about taking them. As it is, the space isn’t ideal to deal with this many people, even if it does come with some advantages. They’re spread out in a way that doesn’t allow her to easily pick them off one by one; not without risking injury herself. Hill won’t come back for her because she can’t, and Natasha refuses to go down to a bunch of insignificant grunts.
She makes it to a cubicle closer to the window and shakes her head at the ancient looking computer at its desk. There’s a grunt not far from her and she wants to have a little bit of fun before she peaces out. She unplugs the computer and carefully lifts it off the desk, then stands quickly.
“Catch,” she says before throwing it at the nearest guy.
He’s so startled that he does try to catch it, resulting in a quick crash into the floor from the unexpected weight of an old school computer. Natasha uses the distraction to make a run for it. It takes a couple of seconds before she’s under fire and there are too many bullets flying around her to make it out unscathed.
Still, she makes it through the shot open window with nothing more than a bullet in her arm. Her landing isn’t graceful but she’s on her feet before the men reach the window to shoot her more.
“This way.”
She follows Hill’s voice without question and ends up behind a dumpster. Hill looks pale and unsteady.
“Still alive?”
“Hanging in there,” Hill confirms, then frowns at the stain on Natasha’s sleeve. “You’re hurt.”
“Shit happens. We have about three minutes before they’re down here to finish us off.”
Hill sighs. Natasha guesses that means she doesn’t think she can make it out in that time. The exit isn’t far but Hill really isn’t looking hot and Natasha is honestly impressed she’s still up and standing at this point. Most people would have passed out by now.
“Can you still shoot?”
Hill hesitates. “Not the steadiest aim at the moment.”
“It’ll have to do.”
She hands Hill her gun and then, without warning, picks her up. If they’re going to both make it out, Hill can’t be walking on her own two feet.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? You focus on shooting, I focus on getting us the hell out of here.”
She can tell Hill is embarrassed but there’s no argument, just the adjustment of a gun in her hands. Natasha takes off quickly. Her arm hurts under the strain of an additional body but she doesn’t have the time to be concerned about that. Hill, wisely, doesn’t mention it either.
In the end, they somehow make it back to their jet without another firefight. Hill is barely hanging onto consciousness at this point and Natasha deposits her in a seat in the back before grabbing the first aid kit. She didn’t carry her ass out only for her to bleed out on the way home.
The wound is still bleeding from the constant motion of the last twenty minutes. Natasha does the best she can to wrap it up. The way back isn’t too long with the jet but she’d prefer Hill to be awake when they arrive.
“Thanks,” Hill mumbles tiredly when Natasha puts the first aid kit away again. She doesn’t have the energy to redress herself and Natasha isn’t going to do it for her. It can wait. She needs to fly them back.
“Try not to die on me,” is all Natasha says back.
She takes off and gets them home. Hill passes out before they get there.
Hill is fine, in the end. The docs were able to fix her up and although she’ll be out of commission for a while, she’s alive and mostly well. Natasha hears it from Fury himself. She pretends not to care but when she sees Hill in the cafeteria later that day, she feels relieved.
“Shouldn’t you be in the medbay?”
“And miss out on the stale brownies?”
Hill almost grins at her and it’s enough of a cue for Natasha that she feels invited to sit. She doesn’t but she does grin back at her. Hill nods at her arm as she moves a piece of brownie into her mouth.
“You?”
Natasha shrugs but the movement is strained. She’s sore but stubborn.
“Nothing to write home about.”
Hill eats another piece of brownie and then leans back in her chair.
“Thank you.”
There’s none of the bitterness from last time, none of the annoyance. Hill is genuinely grateful and not above admitting it. Natasha doesn’t know what to do with that.
“Don’t mention it.”
Hill nods, understanding perfectly well that Natasha means that literally. A few months ago, she would have gotten a kick out of it. She did, in fact. Today, she’s still trying to figure things out.
“We should spar some time,” she says after a few moments of silence, then adds with a smirk. “When you can actually stand without falling over.”
“Ass.”
“That a no?”
Hill huffs but then smiles. “No, that sounds good, actually.”
Natasha nods once, pleased with the agreement, and then gets ready to leave.
“See you around, Hill.”
Natasha is already turning on her heels when Hill speaks up again.
“Maria.”
She stops long enough to turn her head back in her direction, acknowledging the offer.
“Natasha.”
The spar, she thinks, is her olive branch, after all the shit she’s given Hill. First names, she thinks, are Maria’s for much the same reasons.
One spar becomes many. They’re a good match, even if Natasha pulls her punches to avoid breaking something. If Maria notices, and she’s sure she does, she never says anything. Her strength isn’t one of the better known facts about her but she has no doubt that Maria’s picked up on it. It’s not like Natasha thinks she can’t keep up. It’s become clear very quickly that she can and does. Natasha likes that.
A few months after their first spar, Maria invites her out for drinks. Natasha doesn’t get out much and she suspects Maria is much the same. But drinks sound nice and Natasha won’t deny that Maria’s grown on her. The things she found so annoying about her have morphed into something friendlier, something fun.
So when they huddle into a booth together and Maria makes a surprisingly distateful remark about the amount of people in this joint, Natasha laughs. Maria smirks, lets her eyes wander the crowd for a moment, and then stares into her drink like it holds the answers to the universe.
“I never asked but why didn’t you leave?”
“Because you’re annoying.”
“I was dead weight,” Maria says, looking right at her as she throws the words back in her face.
Natasha swirls her drink around in her glass and refuses to reply. It’s not that she doesn’t want to, but truthfully she’s not entirely sure why she did any of it. It felt like the right thing to do at the time; something to start her on a real integration into the agency. Something past the formalities of joining.
“I could ask you the same thing, you know,” she says, lifting her gaze to meet Maria’s. “You told me no one gets left behind but then insist I do it when it’s you.”
Maria shakes her head. “My team comes first. If I can make sure they make it out, it doesn’t matter if I don’t.”
Natasha thinks about that for a few moments. Maria seems exactly the type for that kind of thing. It makes her a good leader; someone people would like to be teamed up with. Someone people would willingly follow into danger, knowing that she’d do everything in her power to keep them safe. Natasha isn’t someone like that. She doesn’t think she ever will be. She’s been on her own for too long, with a mindset inherited by the Red Room that means her survival before all else except the mission at hand.
“That’s stupid.”
“Not to me.”
Natasha makes a small sound at that. No, it wouldn’t be stupid to Maria. It still seems flawed though but Maria isn’t the kind of person to have her mind changed so easily. Natasha isn’t particularly interested in that conversation either.
“You’re still annoying,” she says instead, and Maria throws an ice cube at her.
They don’t talk about anything consequential after that and when they leave the bar, there’s a look in Maria’s eyes that’s new to Natasha. Not in general, oh no, she’s very familiar with that kind of expression, but she didn’t expect to see it on Maria’s face. But the moment comes and goes and if Maria had something she wanted to say, she doesn’t voice it. Natasha doesn’t either.
“Next round’s on you.”
Natasha huffs a laugh. She supposes that means drinks will become a frequent thing, much like the spars. She doesn’t mind. It’s nice. The company is good too, now that Maria doesn’t hate her anymore.
“See you at work.”
Somewhere between the spars and the drinks, Natasha finds that she’s developing a sixth sense in regards to Maria’s presence. If she’s in the same room, she’ll find her almost instantly. It’s a little freaky and she doesn’t mention it to anyone who’d care to listen. She suspects she isn’t the only one because when she does look Maria’s way, Maria, more often than not, is already looking back at her.
Naturally, it never comes up. It’s just a thing now, and if anybody else notices, they don’t say anything either.
“You look good,” Maria tells her one night over drinks. “It’s annoying.”
She says it casually, her body loose and comfortable, but her eyes are dark in the dim light and Natasha wonders not for the first time if tonight is the night Maria does something different. Maybe she’s the one who needs to do something different if she wants this to go anywhere new. And she’s just curious enough to want to know where they can take this; whatever this is.
“Annoying enough to do something about it?”
Maria watches her over the rim of her glass. She’s not drunk and neither is Natasha, but it feels like they’ve been dancing around this particular thing for some time now. Natasha is loathe to put a name to it so she doesn’t but she wonders whether Maria is more honest with herself. Probably but maybe not.
“Depends.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow in question and finishes her drink. She puts the glass down with a soft clink and watches Maria watch her.
“Do you want me to do something about it?” Maria asks, and there’s zero pressure in the question.
If Natasha says no, that’s the end of that conversation. She knows Maria would drop it instantly and not make it weird in the future. Natasha wouldn’t either. And she appreciates that Maria is leaving it in her hands. She’s not sure exactly what she expects but she grins, matching the intensity of Maria’s gaze. She takes her time to actually reply but Maria isn’t pressing her and in the end, that’s what settles her response.
“I’d take you home right now.”
There’s a flash of something darker crossing Maria’s features and it sends a pleasant shiver up Natasha’s spine. It’s been a while since she’s had a reaction like that to anyone and she thinks it’s only right that it’s Maria. Maria, who’s annoyed her since joining SHIELD; Maria, who’s a big hypocrite when it comes to her own safety; Maria, who hides more sass behind her professionalism than anyone else. Maria, who’s going to look really good pressed up against her bedroom wall.
“Do you even have one?” Maria asks, too casual for the situation and the look on her face.
It should be offensive or sad but Natasha’s been living on base quarters since joining. She technically does have an apartment but she’s only ever set foot in it once and she doesn’t want to think about the state it’s in without any kind of human activity going on within its walls.
So Natasha shrugs instead and leans back into the cushion of the booth they’re occupying, a nonchalant smile on her face.
“I’m sure you’ll look good pressed up against your bedroom wall too.”
Maria gives her a long look at that, heat dancing in her eyes. Natasha thinks anyone else would have jumped her, table between them be damned. But Maria isn’t in any rush to get out of here, like she’s enjoying this as much as she’ll enjoy what’s going to follow. Natasha really likes that. It leaves her with a pleasant buzz and a tingling feeling she’s entirely unfamiliar with.
Maria finishes her drink slowly, only taking her eyes off Natasha when it’s physically too uncomfortable not to. Then she slides out of the booth and stops by Natasha’s side.
“Shall we test that theory?”
Natasha smirks. Maria steps back enough to let her out. When they leave the bar this time, the look on Maria’s face doesn’t fade and the cool temperature does nothing to dissuade either of them from continuing the night together.
Natasha is used to rushed encounters. She’s used to people wanting her, right here and now, and whatever is the quickest means of getting that to happen. Maria isn’t like that. Her apartment is nearby, making the choice of bar tonight a tactical one, no doubt. But she doesn’t run, doesn’t drag Natasha along to get there quicker. She isn’t touching her, isn’t staring. Something about the trip leaves Natasha reeling, later, when she has time to think about it.
“Personally,” Maria says once they’re in the elevator of her building, not even looking at her, “I think you’ll look really good spread out on my sheets.”
Natasha decides right then and there that it’s the confidence that really turns her on. The same kind Maria carries at work; the kind that’s almost arrogant, and that men hate more than anything. She smirks. She thinks she’d like that view.
“Guess we’ll just have to find out,” is all she actually says.
When the elevator doors open on Maria’s floor, there’s a soft hum buzzing through Natasha’s entire body. Neither one of them has made a move to touch the other and it’s that newness to the situation that keeps Natasha so interested. Anyone else wouldn’t have bothered. Natasha almost didn’t.
The only real indicator that Maria is as bothered as she is comes when she works the key into the door to her apartment. She misses. It’s only once but it’s enough and Natasha smirks, leaning against the wall next to her. Maria, unsurprisingly, ignores her.
The moment they’re inside and the door closes behind them, Natasha decides she’s waited patiently long enough. She crowds into Maria’s space, forces her back against the door, and moves her hands to Maria’s waist. Something shifts in Maria’s expression for just a moment. Natasha doesn’t know what it means but she doesn’t think it’s important right now. What is important is that Maria still wants her, and she can read that part plainly on her face.
Maria lifts a hand to Natasha’s hair, letting her fingers run through the loose strands before grabbing one and tugging her closer until finally their mouths collide. Natasha is surprised by how languid the kiss is, despite the obvious heat behind it from both of them. But Maria doesn’t seem to be in any rush to change it and Natasha is happy to match her pace. It feels good and makes her body run hot. She won’t complain.
Natasha is too distracted by Maria deepening the kiss to notice she’s being moved. Then her back hits the wall and she has to break away to laugh.
“I was right. You do look good pressed up against the wall. Or door.”
Maria hums and leans down enough to bite her neck, once. Natasha makes a pleased noise.
“And you’re going to look even better in my bed.”
And with that, Maria is tugging her along towards the bedroom. Their hands aren’t fumbling for clothes yet and the longer this goes on, the more Natasha has a really good time. It’s unlike anything she’s experienced in the past and it makes her burn for Maria. She knows Maria wants her. She wants Maria too. But it feels good to go at this pace. She suspects Maria will take her time in the bedroom too. Natasha is looking forward to it.
Natasha finds herself bouncing lightly on Maria’s mattress when she’s pushed onto it. It’s hard but comfortable, exactly what she expected. Maria looks hungry. Natasha stretches and smirks up at her.
“Like I said,” Maria says, voice low in a way that sends tingles all throughout Natasha’s body.
“Good?”
“I can think of a few ways to improve the view,” Maria shrugs.
Natasha can too. Maria, despite a lot of impressions she left tonight, is a woman of action so implementing said changes is quick and easy and hot.
The rest of the night is only marginally more rushed than the lead up and Natasha revels in every second of it. It should feel weird or uncomfortable but every one of Maria’s touches feels calculated, like it’s done with purpose. It keeps Natasha on edge all night, even after Maria gets her off a second time.
Natasha tries to match the pace Maria’s set all night. She’s never done slow and methodical when it comes to sex but it feels wrong to go faster so she forces herself to slow down; to draw out each touch, kiss, and stroke. By the way Maria’s body is moving, she thinks she’s getting it just right.
After, when they’re both spent and still catching their breaths, Natasha sits up in bed and stretches. She feels good; loose. She lets her eyes wander over Maria’s naked body for a few indulgent seconds. Maria is absolutely gorgeous but Natasha’s always known that.
“You look good,” she tells her. “It’s annoying.”
Maria laughs and swings an arm over her face after hitting Natasha in the side with it.
“Shut up.”
Natasha grins and makes herself comfortable. She hopes there’ll be a repeat of tonight, preferrably many, many more times in the future.