Finding the star(s)
This is for the BuckyNat Week 2018 smut saturday in combination with stars-inthe-sky's prompt: "How did you get in here? No really - how?"
My fanart here illustrates the setting. Look on deviantart for "WinterWidow BuckyNat BarnesRomanoff ballet comic" or just my tumblr, twitter, fb, insta or whatever. Links in my profile. It's quite new ^^ Or read the archive of our own version where I can put pictures in between the texts.
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Natasha went through the moves in her mind as she waited for her cue behind the curtain. It had been a while since she'd been undercover as a ballerina. Not that she feared to fail in this. She remembered the steps very well, drilled into her body, no her mind. Brainwashed to believe she was a prima ballerina.
The Black Widow tried to lock those memories away behind the door painted in red, in the blood of her past. She did one last stretch as she heard the audience go silent. Taking her position in the middle of the stage she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The curtain lifted and bright lights focused on her. The first part was a solo performance. The journey of a lost soul in the coldness of winter, searching shelter, craving warmth and comfort. When she heard the violin play a single, longing note Natasha stretched out her arms in an arc, her eyes opening. A new life, foreign to the world, exploring.
The Widow's movements had a feline tone, like a cat on silent paws. Whenever the music indicated danger she stopped, looked, and ran. Growing bolder with each time she crossed the stage the dancer started to lift her legs higher, to jump. Until a passion for the search became clear. Spotlights appeared in her proximity and she made a move towards them but could never reach before they erased. However hard she seemed to try the hunt was fruitless. Frustration and anger made her spin faster, as if to trick the prey. But it was futile.
Natasha let her body be carried by the tune while her eyes searched for the actual target in the audience. Damn, he wasn't there. The more private, upper ranks in the theater were full except for one. Had he been warned by some leaks? Or maybe he was just fashionably late?
She let the annoyance bleed into her dance as the character she portrayed broke in anguish, collapsing on the ground with one leg bent and one stretched to the side and her dress fanning out around her as she came to rest of the hard surface. At last her arm lowered to the floor but before her fingers could reach the parquet her fictional savior would be there.
Natasha froze as she left cold fingers entwining with hers, familiar and so full of memories. But when she looked up behind her the man merely resembled him. It couldn't be him.
The dancer gave her a gentle smile as he pulled her up. There was something strange in his face, like a cocky grin that bled through for only a blink. Once she was standing he carefully led her through the next steps. Keeping his distance and only guiding, showing her the world. The more they danced together the lighter the mood of her character became. With his help she reached the spotlights. Every time they captured one he would lift her up so she could reach for the stars. He was strong, and quite frankly too bulky to be a dancer.
The Black Widow knew she should be afraid. Since her target hadn't appeared the risk was high that he had ordered a retaliation. But the more she felt those strong arms around her waist, one hot, one cold... wait...
When he dipped her backwards and her face was invisible to the audience she hushed: "How did you get in here?"
He continued their dance and gave her a quick smirk before lifting her up so that she could swing her legs around his shoulders. The move was to indicate that his character wanted to help hers reach the stars but in Natasha's mind the only star she wanted to find was the red one on his metal arm he must be covering under a photostatic veil. To test her theory she squeezed his neck tighter than she needed to keep her balance. His only answer was a gentle rub of his fingers on her thigh before he let her back down in an arc around his body.
Natasha slid down along his torso, her face shielded once more when she asked again. "No really - how?!"
The dance became more passionate as they moved like one being. The next position would mark the end of the first part. Natasha stood at the other end of the stage when she started to sprint towards him. After a leap she landed in his arms as he spun around with her while positioning her on only one arm with his hand between her thighs, keeping her steady.
The Black Widow felt her cheeks blushing from something other than the physical exertion. Yet she kept her mask in place as they held this position for a few seconds while the audience started applauding.
He let her down and mimicked her bow while the curtain closed. "Fury send me to help you."
Once they were out of sight she shoved him angrily. "I don't need your help."
"Apparently you did. The target's gone." While he spoke she already hurried backstage to change and go after him. "Wait."
Natasha spun around in deadly elegance. "This is important, James."
"I know. That's why I observed the entrance and went after him as he tried to flee."
"So..." Relief flooded her.
"Job's finished." He slung one arm around her as they walked into her dressing room. "Now we've got time for the main event of the evening."
That coaxed a little laugh out of her. "You'll never change."
"Took you quite a while to recognize me by the way." Once he had locked the door he pulled off the veils on his face and arm.
"It's been decades since you and I danced like that." Something in her mind clicked. "So that's why he send you. How did he know that you..."
"He didn't." James replied with a smile. "I was to extract the intel and eliminate the target in case there was trouble. The ballet was... just for you. Well, and a little bit for me..." He admitted with a chuckle and a glance at the bulge tenting his tight pants.
Natasha raised an eyebrow at that. "I hope my original partner is just somewhere bound and gagged and not a suffering from a broken bone?"
"Don't worry. He's sleeping in the utility closet. Now, shall we skip the show and move on to the main event?" He licked his lips and moved close enough to lay his arms around her shoulders and press her body against his.
Natasha looked up into his eyes. "I never liked the sad ending of the piece anyway."
Half an hour later they were in the quinjet on the way home. Once they has reached their altitude Natasha put the plane on autopilot. "Wanna be a member of the mile high club?"
"And defile one of Anthony's jets at the same time? Totally in for it, doll." He pulled her towards him and his eyes fell on weapon stash with her name on it. "I replaced your rifle by the way. Greatstuff you've got there, and well maintained."
"I had a very good teacher." She gave him a long passionate kiss. "In every aspect of my training."
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It's already 10 minutes past midnight here and I want to upload this thing. So no beta. I'll search for any mistakes I missed tomorrow and edit.
I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Do you want this to continue?
Also, did you like the cover?