"I am not your dart board," Bucky ground out, annoyed, and stiffened as another knife went soaring past his ear to bury itself in the wall beside him. Natasha, another throwing dagger already positioned in her hand, shook her head with a small smile.
"You don't throw knives at dart boards, James," she murmured amusedly, and sent another knife his way. He didn't even flinch when it landed just below the junction between his legs, and she let loose a hearty laugh at the incredulous expression dawning on his face.
"That was rude," he called out, and she sauntered over to him, eyes bright and mischievous as she stopped just inches from his face, leaning up on her tip toes to meet his lips.
"You're such a dart board," she breathed against his mouth, and his laughter, deep and contagious, sent pleasant shivers to her very core.