Kiss and Run
SHIELD liaises with the British Auror Dept for a joint mission. Natasha must work with green non-spy Harry Potter.
Pairing: Natasha/Harry
Rating: teen
Warnings: Some Violence
Tropes: Fake Dating, Undercover Work
Words: 1,333
Original Release Date: 20 Dec 2018
Additional Notes: This holiday one-shot happens in the same universe as Anomalies of Time. (After ch 9, "An Uncommon Proposal")
When he showed up in the locker room where Natasha was getting ready for their mission, she took one look at him—with his messy black hair, striking green eyes, and easily identifiable lighting-shaped scar on his forehead—and asked, "You've never done undercover work, have you?"
"Not really, no."
She pursed her lips and focused her attention on the scar on his forehead. "You could have at least covered it up."
"It's a cursed scar. Magic can't cover it."
"Ever heard of tattoo-concealing makeup?" she asked, looking him up and down. She supposed he might look decent in the tuxedo hanging on the back of the door. She'd expected to be working with Rumlow and the tux was in his size but he'd been called away on another mission. Rogers could have stepped in, except he was too recognizable and the tux definitely wouldn't fit him. Fury had said he was also busy with internal matters and he wouldn't elaborate. She hauled the man in front of her to the bench and pulled her makeup kit close to her. She didn't have any tattoos but a good agent's kit always had some concealer.
"I'm Harry Potter, by the way." He said though he didn't protest when she used her left hand to brush his hair off of his forehead to dab at his scar with makeup.
"You're John Bartholomew, a millionaire private investor. I'm Melissa Verdinelli, your girlfriend."
He nodded and asked, "And what do you do for a living?"
She raised an eyebrow at him, not answering for a moment while she picked up her brushes. It wouldn't hurt to contour his cheekbones a little. "I'm a ballerina." He was right. She couldn't just be a socialite serial girlfriend if this was her first time around this crowd. How could she forget something so basic?
"So what's our objective?"
"Mingle, plant a virus-tracer into their security systems, ID any suspicious characters, and don't get made."
"Sounds simple enough. I take it you've got the tech I need to use?" he asked, not reacting at all to her applying powder to his face.
"I do," she answered.
* . * . *
It did sound simple enough. But as she spotted the security guard who was following her to the ladies' room she suspected things were going to be a bit more difficult than she'd planned.
Natasha slowed her stride, taking note of all the holiday decorations lining the walls. A quick spin and yank could pull the garland down to use as a garrote. Or the string lights decorating the bust of—was that Lenin? Really? She could also attempt a seduction. If she could lure him into the bathroom she could use the smaller space to her advantage and knock his head into the wall.
She turned and looked under her lashes at the tall, thick guard, quirking her lips and tilting her head just slightly in the direction of the restroom door. He took the bait and followed her into the room.
She started to turn around but before she could his hand grabbed her shoulder and jerked her back. "Hey, what are you—" she didn't let him finish, using his attempt to manhandle her to her advantage. A quick low sweeping kick and a kick to the chest brought him down but it didn't knock the wind from him like she expected. He grabbed her foot and yanked, so she let her body complete the fall, letting her knee fall on his diaphragm and flicking her foot up to knock him in the crotch at the same time. He made an aborted grunt and she punched him twice in the throat and neck, finishing the job. She sighed and stood. She picked his keys from his pocket and grabbed his arm to drag him into the last stall. She tidied her hair in the mirror and then left, glancing back to make sure no one else had followed them.
She slipped down the hall and snuck into the security closet at the end. She plugged the drive into the terminal, counting the three requisite minutes she needed, removed it and left.
Unfortunately, a guest had found the downed guard in the bathroom and started shrieking about it—apparently, she thought he was dead. Natasha took another hall to try and rejoin the crowd in the main room only to run into Potter at the doorway. She pushed him towards the wall and tugged his face down to meet hers, kissing him thoroughly.
When she pulled back, he looked a little stunned. "What the—"
She looked up to the mistletoe above them.
He wasn't fooled. The quick up-down glance he gave her combined with the, "What happened to you?" that he whispered at her told her that her tangle with the security guard had ruffled her up more than she'd thought.
There was a mirror behind him and in it, she spotted someone reaching into their coat pocket. "Shit," she murmured. She grabbed Potter's lapels and spun them back into the hall just as a bullet buried itself into the wall where he'd been standing. "I think we got made."
"You don't have one of those, do you?"
She gave him a look that she hoped conveyed her negative before shoving him and saying, "Run."
He did, dashing down the hallway and pulling her into a side room.
"What are you doing?" she hissed, taking in the fact that they were in a conference room. There was a bank of windows at the far wall but she didn't think any of them opened.
"This," he answered, shaking out a cloak of some sort and pulling it around himself and then pulling her close and covering her with it. He also sent a silent spell to the windows, shattering them out.
"What—?"
"Shh," he said. He was very close to her, embracing her like a lover almost, and his breath was very warm on her neck.
The door they had come through opened and the security guards with guns entered and spread out. They seemed to ignore her and Potter, choosing instead to investigate the smashed window. It was at least sixty stories up and there was absolutely no way they would have survived had they jumped but as they stood there listening, the guards debated on whether they'd have been able to jump to the roof of the nearest building. After a fruitless search and debate, they left, closing the door behind them.
Natasha took a step back when it felt like Potter wasn't going to let go of her and she felt the cloak he'd draped over them slip away. It remained around him and suddenly she understood how the guards had walked right by. The cloak made them invisible.
She reached out and touched it again, watching how her hand disappeared underneath it. "Wow. Talk about handy," she whispered.
Potter grinned. "Glad you approve, Melissa. Did you complete your objective, then?"
At the false name, she looked up at him and recomposed herself. "I did."
"Then shall we go?" He gestured towards the window. "I promise it won't be that way."
"Are we just going to sneak out under this?" she asked, finally letting go of the soft material even as he started stuffing it into his pocket. "Nope. We're just going to Apparate out. Unless you have anything else to do here?"
"I'm good."
"Fantastic. This might be a bit unpleasant," he said. He took her into his arms again for an extended second where Natasha felt like she was being squeezed through a narrow tube before materializing again in the locker room. If she'd eaten anything at the party, it would have almost definitely have made a second appearance at that moment. She swallowed to deal with the nausea and turned to look at him again to see him already starting to take the outer layers of his tuxedo off.
Maybe this Harry Potter wasn't as inept as she'd assumed.
