Author Note: Takes place during/after Captain America: The Winter Soldier.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.
Chapter One: Kiss of the Spiderwoman
"You must remember this: A kiss is just a kiss…" - As Time Goes By
Being a female spy is an art form. A man can overpower with strength, he can knock you down or push you over and take the advantage. A woman, on the other hand, is often greatly underestimated. She can be cunning and fierce, capable of bringing down opponents with a very different set of skills. It takes a special girl with a lot of guts and limited conscience to do what Natasha Romanoff does.
Captain America is the original super soldier. His passion for truth and non-violent temperament are the stuffs legends are made of. But in the situation they are faced with now, disguise doesn't matter. He's a sitting as surely as if he were wearing his uniform.
The Black Widow is a deadly honey trap. She's seduced men for intel and left them to bleed out when she's gotten what she wanted. No stopping to consider casualties or fallout, no regrets. She isn't afraid to play dirty and knows how to blend in and make an escape afterwards.
He belongs on the battlefield. Since they are on her turf, he'll have to play by her rules. She's calling the shots on this little mall mission whether he likes it or not.
While Steve Rogers is used to handling things with brawn and a shiny disk made of rare metal, Natasha Romanoff has a different way of getting to the heart of the matter. She's not afraid to use force, but she's also not afraid to use her feminine wiles. It's with the sweet tricks that she will get them out of here even as he obsessed over military strategy and combat tactics. Men. Dare she say it? Old men. She knows 'protecting' her is just part of his code, but she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
She sees the team leader first. Steve's eyes are higher as he keeps watch, eyeing the overhead levels top down. Turning to him she demands, "Kiss me."
"Wha…?" Confusion. Priceless. There was training and there was training. She's about to school Captain America on how to lay low.
"Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable," she says cooly. Her mind is on the rapidly approaching agent. His focus is on her, he stares with his mouth slightly agape in shock. That's dangerous. It could get them both caught.
"Yes they do," he murmurs half under his breath.
Now is not the time to argue with me, Rogers, she thinks. Nor is it the time to be old fashioned. She rolls her eyes in frustration before placing her hands on his shoulders and dragging his lips down to hers.
He's rigid, which is no fun because she's used to the sweet submission of a lover's mouth without having to work too hard for it. She can practically feel his eyebrows shoot to his hairline in surprise at the gesture. She needs him to engage or their cover may be blown. Just for the hell of it she skims her tongue along the seam of his lips and he settles enough his hands find her waist and he sort of hums against her bee stung lips.
Then it's over and she pulls away. He fumbles a little, but she shows no sign of impact. Her breathing is steady as she asks, "Still uncomfortable?"
"Not exactly the word I'd use…" If he wasn't stiff before, he certainly is now. Her lips twitch slightly as he shakes his leg a little at the bottom of the escalator before ambling after her to the parking deck.
- - - Captain America - - -
"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?" she asks as they enter New Jersey, the truck clinging to the pavement the way his hand holds tightly to the steering wheel.
"Nazi Germany," he answers, glaring across the seat at her before scolding. "And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash."
With a slight smirk, she moves her feet to the floor. Bossy Steve is kinda hot, though there's a sternness to his voice that plucks at the nerve of her daddy issues. She can only imagine what that silky command of it would be like in bed.
She gets a look, one he notices from the corner of his eye. He knows things are about to get worse before she even opens her mouth. And he's right.
"Alright, I have a question for you," Natasha prods. "Of which you do not have to answer… but I feel like if you don't answer, you're answering, you know?"
The pop of her gum is annoying, it makes him tense. There isn't much about Natasha Romanoff that doesn't make him tense - her penchant for secrets and willingness to break the rules only part of a laundry list of complications - but, now, at this moment, the fact that he can still taste said gum in his mouth only serves to increase his discomfort.
"What?" he cuts her off gruffly.
She finds this amusing, ruffling the normally stoic Captain's feathers. Messy. She enjoys a good mess, particularly when it comes to sex. So she lays it on him with a saucy smile. "Was that your first kiss since 1945?"
Steve is clearly not as amused. He groans, shaking his head ever so slightly. "That bad, huh?"
Oh, this was good. It almost made it worth being stuck shotgun in a vehicle with a man who refuses to drive like they stole it. Speed. She needs speed and to get to the next part rather than be stuck in limbo. She lets a hint of laughter enter her reply. "I didn't say that."
He tries to smile and keep his shit together. It is sorta funny, in an awkward 'Are we really having this discussion?' kind of way. "Well, it kinda sounds like that's what you're saying."
"No. I didn't…" Damn. Now she's the one feeling flustered. He's like a lost puppy and she feels like she's just given him a good, swift kick. She searches for the right words before settling on what she hopes is the least offensive response. "I just wondered how much practice you've had."
He scoffs and she's sure she sees a blush creeping up his neck. "You don't need practice."
"Everybody needs practice," she tells him nonchalantly.
She finally gets the answer she's looking for when his posture changes. "It was not my first kiss since 1945. I'm 95, I'm not dead."
It was and they both know it, but she doesn't call him on it. Instead, she pushes a different button. "Nobody special then?"
He chuckles awkwardly. "Believe it or not, it's kinda hard to find someone with shared life experience."
The spy in her kicks in, the part that creates the perfect cover for whatever situation life throws at her. It's that part that lead her to claim the soft pillows of his lips at the mall. "It's alright. You just make something up."
"What, like you?" his blue eyes flicker with something that makes her a little crazy. Truth is black and white to him, to her it's more gray areas and little nooks to escape obstacles.
So she says, "I don't know. Truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people all of the time." Her lips twitch. "And neither am I."
"It's a tough way to live," he says, taking a quick look at her before focusing on the road ahead again.
"It's a good way not to die though," she replies wistfully. Talk about buzzkill. The playfulness of the conversation has faded away and their talk has become more serious.
"You know it's kinda hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone is." His voice strong and doesn't waver. It cuts in a way she'd never admit.
Truth. He always has to have the truth. He doesn't know any better, but she'll show him.
And that's how it started, how the Black Widow decided to take Captain America's love life by the shield and show him how to live a life more extraordinary. A life that's messy and full of promise, truth be damned. She seizes the moment, batting her eyes at him and asking sweetly, "Who do you want me to be?"