Summary: They do not know that her sparkling diamond bracelets are laced with poison. Drabbleish.

Not really supposed to be shippy, but I guess you can read it that way if you want. Thanks to the group over at the Beta Branch for being freaking awesome. We're always open to new minio- I mean, members, so if you're interested google TheBetaBranch or send me a PM.

Her steps are serene, as smooth as silk; the subtly colored shoes tapping gently on the floor each time she lays a foot down. She looks radiant, not a difficult thing for her to accomplish. Every time she's passed off to another man, she charms him without effort, smiling at all the right moments. She dances as though she's been doing this all her life, her steps graceful as they conceal her deadly nature.

They do not know that her sparkling diamond bracelets are laced with poison, that she has a knife concealed at the small of her back and another strapped to her thigh. They do not see the gun in her purse, all they see is a pretty face and striking green eyes that bespeak of wonder at the boasts they tell her. She charms their foolhardy minds with gentle words, words that strike in contrast to her true self that waits to strike.

She whirls past her partner, who stands among the shadows and draws no eyes. He can hear the conversation about her - can hear their admiring words directed at her and envious tones inflicted upon her current choice.

"She's Ms. Pott's aide, isn't she?" one of the older men - the idea of him dancing with her makes her backup cringe - asks softly.

"She is," confirms the man who once held Pott's position.

"She has remarkable skill. Pretty, too."

There's a nod from Pott's former employer, but he doesn't pay much attention. The woman's partner wouldn't mind telling them about her sharp tongue, her stealth, and the fact that she could have them all dead on the floor faster than they could draw , he knows that isn't something that'll interest them. They probably wouldn't even believe him - it's likely they just think she's here to keep on eye on Stark or because Potts felt she'd been working too hard. They don't care why she's here, they just enjoy the eye candy. But the reason she's here is because Fury asked her to, and he's here because she'd never ask him to come. He is, as always, the backup she never needs and hardly acknowledges. She's never asked him to lurk in the shadows, bow at home in favor of a more subtle weapon, but he knows she appreciates it all the same.

He wishes, as the men watch his partner with open leers, that it was his job to dance with her instead.

Her dancing partner is a suave man with a lecherous smile and hands that roam freely over her frame. She doesn't protest, only smiles at her target as she gives him the slightest hint that she's willing to take things further when out of the public eye. Her sweet smile enthralls him - the dancer is not aware that the second he closes the door behind them, she'll spring on him and have him on the floor in an instant, spilling everything he knows. He does not know that the woman he lays hands on is rumored to be a descendant of the last tsars, that she's one of the few entitled to almost all of the secrets behind the developing Avengers Initiative. She turns with the other dancer, her inviting smile begging him to lean closer and tell her his thoughts. As he speaks, her eyes flash over to her fellow agent - she does not need to use the smile on him. There's no reason to.

He turns his attention back to the crowd, still skimming for any threats made toward her. Her gaze has already moved on from him, and there's no need for them to acknowledge each other.

The fact that he's aware of those sparkling, poisoned, diamond bracelets says it all.

Please review? Pretty, pretty please?