A/N: Warning for voyeurism, and Red Room typical violence (in this case a poisoning).
As a new member of the Red Room, it was only custom that Natasha needed to get a little more experience under her belt before they let her go off on her own. Winter Soldier would be her escort for the evening, the pair of them attending a ballet where a prominent member of state with loose lips was also in attendance. The black silk dress on loan to Natasha hugged every single curve of her body, the straps hanging just off her shoulders and accentuating her bust, and even if Winter hadn't been playing the part of an attentive lover she wasn't so sure that Winter would've been able to keep his eyes off of her. No one else seemed able to. They breezed past the ticket kiosk before Natasha tugged Winter aside in the direction of the staircase towards their private box. They had to wait until the Intermission to get the Comrade alone, when his wife would undoubtedly leave him but he would stay to entertain other guests who would need to confer with him. Natasha would be one of them, and as they pulled off to the side Winter slid the small vial of poison to her from one of the folds in his jacket, watching with sure eyes as she hid it in one of the hollow, secret compartments of her thick bracelet, the vial sliding into place pressed just up against her wrist. It would be easy to undo the opening and let the liquid slip into the vodka he always took with these sort of events.
They'd gone over the plan so many times that it was surreal thinking that they would actually put it into practice, and only the warmth of his hand on her forearm leading her forward was enough to snap her out of her thoughts. It was careless, unprofessional, but she was still in training. Her eyes flickered up at the tall man who wrapped his arm around hers, easing her up the stairs and towards their box. How was it that he remained so at ease through the whole thing? She wasn't wearing her anxiety at the mission on her sleeve by any stretch of the imagination, but she knew there was an odd straightness to her spine that looked mostly out of place, a tension just at the base of her neck that had her second guessing every move. For Winter, this was just as easy as breathing. Or at least he made it look like that.
He helped her into her seat in the box, bringing her hand up to kiss the back of it. "Relax." He breathed the word against her skin, and she had to fight not to shiver. "You're doing well."
Praise wasn't often given out in the Room, and certainly not by a man as proficient at his job as Winter Soldier. She tried not to glow, unable to help biting her lip to tamp down on the wild smile that crossed her lips. She was doing well. Of course she was, she was going to be a Black Widow. She was damn good at her job, and this was just one small stone in the path to getting better.
She didn't want to think about what would happen if they didn't see her improve.
The first act went by easily enough, she supposed, given that all they had to do was sit there for the sake of appearances. They didn't want to draw too much attention to themselves, though the box was a necessity. In it, Natasha was able to fidget with the small knife she had tucked in her garter, easing it closer to the slit in the side of her gown so that she'd be able to grab it in case things got tricky. Winter, too, was keeping an eye out for anyone that he might need to distract, so that when the intermission did come the pair of them broke away without needing to say a word to one another. They were to rendezvous at the base of the stairs in ten minutes, providing they could get away in time. If fifteen passed, whoever was there was to leave. The last one there was on their own. It wasn't a position Natasha intended on filling.
She got to her feet with a sweeping glance at Winter, and pressed her lips to his cheek. "Be right back darling." she whispered softly in his ear before striding out. She knew he'd have control of who made it up the stairs after her, had seen him assembling his gun and putting it into place so that its silhouette wouldn't garner any attention and so it didn't stick out on his body. On her way up the stairs she passed the Comrade's wife, who looked rather queasy courtesy of the wait staff they'd paid to mix something less toxic in her own drink. It wouldn't do to pay the same man to poison the Comrade, however. That would draw too much attention and potentially compromise the Room if the man was to say anything. Natasha was all for putting a bullet in his head before anything else could be done, but she wasn't the one who made the plans. Just carried them out.
The man didn't even hear her come up, too busy refilling the glass at his side with the bottle of vodka provided for him. When she cleared her throat just behind him he turned with a start. His gaze immediately softened, however.
"How might I help you, my dear?" His voice was perhaps a little too interested, and even though the box was dark enough to allow them privacy she could see the way his pupils further dilated as he took her in in a long sweep of his gaze. She steeled herself internally, and offered him one of her most dazzling smiles.
"I just-you're the Chancellor, aren't you?" she asked, her voice breathy, and her cheeks flushing, as though she couldn't believe what she was doing.
He nodded, and offered her a chair just opposite him. She strode forward instead, hands behind her back as she loosened the cap of the poison, and placed herself firmly on his lap. She angled her back end so that it was pressed near right up against his groin. He gave a low groan, even though she kept most of her weight on her legs so she knew it wasn't because she was supposedly heavy, and she felt his body respond against her. "I'm so sorry for being forward, it's just that-you are a most brave man," she crooned, reaching out so that she could wrap an arm around his neck, bringing herself closer to him and her cleavage into full view given the angle of her body. He took a moment to appreciate it before he brought his eyes up to hers again. "I told myself that if I got a chance to meet you tonight I would tell you just how much-how much I appreciate you, and all of your work for the state."
She ran a hand slowly through his grey flecked hair, reaching over him so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. He let out the lowest of groans, not even noticing that her left hand had grabbed his drink, and when she brought it around the back of his head, she'd unstoppered the vial and watched as it poured into his drink, swirling it around slowly to mix it. She brought the cup to her lips, tipping it backwards just enough to give the impression of her drinking, before offering it up to him. He held her gaze as he placed his lips just where hers had been, and drank deeply.
She smiled, leaning forward to kiss just below his ear and wish him a good evening, before slinking off. He had two minutes, if not less than that, before the poison kicked in, and she wanted to put as much distance between herself and him as possible.
She hadn't been planning on running into anyone at the bottom of the stairs except for Winter, but he was speaking, rather unhappily, with one of the men who worked at the opera house. As soon as Natasha came into sight he jumped at the opportunity.
"Did you catch her, my dear?" he asked, voice heavy with implication.
Natasha shook her head. "No, the Comrade said that his wife would be in the women's bathroom. Shall we?" she squeezed his hand, trying to keep her face from being seen entirely by the man in front of Winter, his brow pulled down even as the couple began to walk in the direction of the ladies room. Winter's hand tightened on her own the further they got, and, thinking quickly, she caught sight of a staircase marked to take them out into the alley that stood between this building and the next. It was little more than a tight squeeze, but she backed herself up against the wall once they'd made it outside into the chill of the late summer. Her hands surged upwards and tugged his face to hers, kissing him hard and fast. It would keep attention off of them, at least, and he was quick to catch on she was pleased to see. His tongue parted her lips without difficulty, and she groaned into the kiss as his metal hand moved downwards to cup her backside and squeeze. Arousal bit at her stomach, lightning sparking down her veins as he ground his hips against hers and proved to her that he wasn't exactly unaffected by the connection they had between them. She gasped when his teeth found her bottom lip and tugged, sucked hard enough to bring gooseflesh to every inch of her body. This was a dangerous game, but they'd made it far enough that they wouldn't be suspected by anyone so long as the man Winter had been talking to didn't come looking as well. Besides, so long as they stayed quiet, she didn't see that they'd get caught. And this? This was excellent, heating every inch of her despite the unseasonable chill and the fear that simmered just beneath her arousal. His body shifted, standing off to the side to cover her body with his frame, and it wasn't until she heard the rustling of fabric that she realized what he was doing.
"Winter," she breathed against his lips as his left hand found her slit, the chill of his metal fingers silencing any fear that she'd had.
He groaned low in his throat, and the noise reverberated in her chest as she whimpered. Her head leaned back up against the wall as he worked two fingers into her body, slicked up by her own arousal. "The less conspicuous we are the better, so you'll have to be quiet for me, won't you?" His lips were right beside her ear, breath hot and sweet. She barely tamped down on a groan.
He pressed his thumb none too gently on her clit and she bucked her hips at the pressure."Won't you?" he reiterated, and she nodded vigorously. He resumed the steady thrusting of his fingers, scissoring her open slowly, before pressing the tips of his fingers right where she needed them, just as he added pressure to her clit. Her mouth fell open but no sound came out as her vision went white, her knees buckling. She might've fallen had he not held onto her waist with his right arm, and his left kept her standing by slowly pumping into her, easing her through it as her walls clenched on his firm fingers.
The shadows couldn't hide the way he brought his come-soaked fingers into his mouth, or the way that his eyes lit up when she moaned at the sight. They'd have to find time to explore the possibilities of that later, though, slipping away into the shadows to the car he'd parked a couple blocks over.
A/N: This . . . is a lot more jumbled than I'd intended, and I'm sorry about that. I'm not too happy with how it turned out, but it struck me that I'd never written anything RR-based for these two, so . . . here it is. Maybe I just need to practice more.