H-hey guys! *dodges the rotten vegetables* Sorry about the SUPER long wait, I have had a bad case of writer's block and procrastination. Ahyhoo, Spider-Man Far From Home was really good! It's also left me with a bazillion more questions and a lot more trust issues. And the Sony/Disney issue has been making me more depressed than usual. Thank heavens they're working together again. Anyways, enjoy!

Thank you to , FanGirlForever19, Korin no Hana, DreamCatcher06, I.D.'s Fantasy, SweetWritingIsMyLife, erinjoypangelinan, Hidden Circumstance, yupimstillhere, Sundance3.14, JaxketSniffer, Isabella Schumacher, TARDISblue13times, and Muscletomcat, for reviewing, favoriting or following!

As promised, this one is not about Peter Parker, instead it's our lovely Natasha Romanov!

Word Five: Velvet

The Black Widow was on the prowl again. Her mission was simple, get in, kill him, and get out. The man in question was Dariusz Bogaty, a polish millionaire and illegal weapons dealer. S.H.I.E.L.D had caught some news about his deal with a budding terrorist organization, and had sent their bst agent to deal with it in the cleanest way possible. It was quite a pleasant coincidence that Mr. Bogaty was hosting a party at his private mansion in the countryside of Poland.

Natasha stepped out of the sleek black car and adjusted her necklace. It was time to blend in. She was not the hardened assassin, she was Peony Jackson, an American model famous for her long wavy blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Pampered by her model mother and actor father, Peony grew up in luxury. Her parents wished for her to grow up out of the spotlight and the world had just learned about the elusive Peony Jackson.

The theme for the ball was velvet, and so Peony had dressed accordingly in a stunning dark green floor length dress with large teardrop earrings and necklace of only the finest diamonds available on the market. It looked like a goddess had cried diamond tears, as they were perfectly smooth and symmetrical. Climbing up the stairs in matching green velvet stilettos with golden ivy leaves climbing up the heels. Peony smiled as the men holding the doors open couldn't help but stare, mouths open and eyes wide

The young model stepped into the golden domed ballroom and was washed with a warm light. She smiled, breathing in the fluttering atmosphere and completely became Peony Jackson. Couples walked around, talking as silent waiters in black and white velvet coats flitted around the room, offering champagne and delicacies made by only the finest chefs. Everything seemed impossibly peaceful and happy, especially because of the number of diplomats and celebrities from an impressive amount of countries. Disagreements were bound to happen with most everyone talking quite freely. And alcohol always has the habit of loosening your tongue. Several people were already showing signs of being quite tipsy, laughing and talking a bit too loudly.

A handsome young man in a smart burgundy velvet tuxedo stepped up to Peony with two delicate flutes of sparkling champagne.

"Good evening Mademoiselle, I don't believe I know who you are."

Peony laughed, a high clear sound that rang like a bell throughout the large room. "Oh! I'm Peony, Peony Jackson!"

He frowned and shook his head. Peony tried harder to spur his memory.

"I'm a model from America! I've modeled for Vogue! I-!"

"I'm sorry, I have never heard of you." The man's french accent became more pronounced as he became increasingly confused.

The young woman sighed dramatically and fluttered her voluminous eyelashes. "That's alright. To be honest, I don't even know who you are!" She giggled.

He gave her a charming grin. "I'm Samuel Du Bellay, my father's a french diplomat. Champagne?"

Peony grinned and accepted the glass. "Thank you! Isn't this party just wonderful?"

Samuel agreed. "Definitely! Such a welcome environment." He frowned. "For now..."

The two's attention was drawn to and older man with a truly impressive mustache waving his handkerchief frantically. Samuel laughed awkwardly.

"Yeah, that's my father. Well, it was nice to meet you Peony." the young woman gave him another giggle and waved. "Nice to meet you too Samuel."

The gentleman quickly walked off, and Peony was left on her own. Making her way to the tables where the waiters filled this trays with food and drink, she slipped the flute of champagne in her hand onto the tray of a stuffy looking waiter coming back for refills. Peony couldn't afford to have any alcohol in her system. She needed to be on guard at all times and in complete control of her body and mind. For the next couple hours she wandered around, chatting and giggling with the other guests at the party. Several more times she was offered alcohol, and each time she would graciously accept it with a seemingly tipsy giggle. But of course this, along with her whole character was fake. And somehow, the glass always made it back full, to another server's tray.

Finally, the host and Peony's target stepped up to the mahogany podium at the very end of the ballroom. He spread his arms wide, and with a bright white, perfect smile, greeted his guests.

"Welcome everyone, to Aksamitna piłka, my very own Velvet Ball!" The crowd calmly applauded, a perfect example of high aristocracy. "I thank you all for coming tonight, and thank you for making this enjoyable for me as well. Heaven knows how tedious it is hosting a party as big as this one!" The crowd laughed, many of them knew first hand how boring it was, the planning, the shipping, the exuberant costs. Fun.

Well he certainly was charismatic. But however nice he seemed, Peony knew that a lot darker acts bubble under the surface of his disguise like ugly black tar. No matter how handsome, how svelte, he was still an illegal weapons dealer. And he had to die.

Peony slowly made her way to the front of the ballroom, weaving in between velvet covered tables and groups of people. Dariusz was chatting with several people in his native Polish. Peony listened in, interested in knowing what her target was talking about.

"Tak, wiem, ale to nie znaczy, że nasza umowa nie zadziała" [Yes, I know, but that does not mean that our agreement won't work] Dariusz arruptly switched the topic. "Agora, o que você acha da minha festa?" [Now, what do you think of my party?] The gentleman nodded and murmured their complements. Peony frowned. What was the origin of the quick conversation change? She caught him glancing in her direction, and she realized it was her.

Giving a little wave, Peony made her way up to the young millionaire and smiled. "Hi, I'm Peony!" Dariusz smiled and nodded. Then in english with a thick polish accent,

"Good evening Peony, I am Dariusz Bogaty."

The young woman gasped. Oh, you're the one who invited me here! Father did say that you would look like... that." Her perfectly manicured index finger circled daintily over his expensive black velvet suit.

Dariusz expertly ignored the thinly veiled insult and turned to introduce the rest of the men in the group. He was surprised to see that four of the seven men had walked off, already bored. The three left looked unamused and Dariusz dismissed them with a little wave and a "Go enjoy the party!" He turned back to the young model and gave his most charming smile. "Now, where were we?"

-o-

Peony giggle once again as Dariusz ran a hand lightly down her face. A mere hour had gone by, and through heavy compliments and sweet talking, the millionaire believed he had the naive young model wrapped around his little finger. Unfortunately it's a lot harder to seduce a world renowned assassin than you would think. In fact, it was the other way around. With his defences down, Natasha had free will to do what she wanted.

Soon, more velvet clad servers swarmed in, carrying fancy wooden tables with cream coloured velvet tablecloths. A silver bell was rung and in streamed dozens of different dishes, sweet, savory, and more, carried high on the shoulders of even more black and white attendants. Everything smelled and looked sensational and Dariusz looked quite proud.

In no time at all the large ballroom was filled with the chatter of aristocrats and the clinking of silverware. Peony was at a seat next to Dariusz picking at her food and laughing at every joke and compliment out is his mouth. In a little while dinner was over, and as efficiently as the tables and dishes appeared, they were carried out.

Late into the night they flirted, talked and danced. Soon the guests started trickling out, getting into their waiting cars and driving off into the night. Peony quickly got up and apologized to Dariusz.

"Oh dear, it's late. My car should be here soon." Her host gently grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her back to his side. Wrapping his arm around her back, he lead her to the opposite side of the ballroom and away from the leaving guests.

"Don't worry about your car, it can wait. Why don't you come and enjoy the night breeze up on my balcony?" His voice was as smooth as honey and twice as sweet.

Peony giggled and let him guide her out a large doorway and up a grand spiraling set of marble stairs. Three doors up Dariusz stopped and turned down a wide hallway. Peony's heels clicked against the hardwood floor and in the otherwise complete silence they seemed as loud as a jackhammer. The millionaire opened an ornately engraved door and led them into a luxurious bedroom. It was huge, bigger than some apartments and had a lounge, bathroom and a large balcony open to the rolling mountains of Poland and the black velvety night sky.

Daiusz sat down on a charcoal chaise lounge and patted the spot next to him. Peony daintily perched on the edge and surveyed the room with a careful eye. Peony Rivers was looking at all the expensive art hanging in the room and the large television, but Natasha Romanov was scanning for security cameras and possible escape routes. And anything she could use as a weapon. Yes, Dariusz Bogaty better watch his back, because the Black Widow was on the prowl, and she had him right where she wanted.

Bogaty slowly got up, and strode to a mahogany bar on the other side of the room. selecting a large bottle from a hanging wine rack, he grabbed two glasses dangling below. Dariusz grinned, perfect white teeth flashing and twisted the neck to show his young guest the label. It was the colour of parchment with a flowing St. Emilion in calligraphy on the front.

" A Cheval Blanc 1947, beautiful, isn't it?"

Peony frowned. "I've never heard of that."

Setting the two wine glasses on the table and popping the cork Dariusz poured two generous servings of the rich red wine. "Well then we shall fix that!" He raised his glass but frowned when the young woman didn't. She was staring out the large glass balcony doors with a frown on her petite pale face.

"There's, there's something out there." Dariusz saw it now, a flash of light from out near the Beskids. He slowly got up and walked towards the balcony. There it was again, quick, missable, but bright. Not even Peony knew where it came from, but it provided a perfect distraction. After all, half of assassin and spy work was improvisation. It was a dangerous dance of death. But it was balanced, graceful even.

Grasping the largest, center tear from her necklace, she quickly unscrewed the top of it. The diamond was as long as two thirds of her longest finger and had a microscopic slit around it. The top unscrewed from the bottom and in the hollow capsule inside were several drops of a crystal clear liquid. This was a lethal poison, specially designed by the finest S.H.E.I.L.D scientists. Only a few drops could kill a fit, full grown man and it was completely scentless and tasteless. Perfect for Peony's mission. Poring the poison into Dariusz's wine glass she screwed the cap back onto the hidden vial and attached back onto her necklace with tiny, but strong magnets.

Peony stuck her bottom lip out in a pout and called Dariusz back from his post at the porch window. "Oh Dariusz, why are you worrying about some silly light? Come, show me this wine that I've heard so much about." Reluctantly, pulled himself away from the window first road towards the lounge.

"Alright my dear, prepared to taste the best red wine of your life." They clinked glasses, but only one of them raised their glass to their mouth. Only one of them took a sip. Peony had winced, and reached down to unstrap her shoes. As Dariusz drank, she apologized.

"I'm sorry, my shoes have given me blisters. With great beauty comes great pain I suppose." She laughed her high tinkling laugh as the millionaire grasped his chest and froze, mouth moving but no sound coming out.

He forced out two words before his body submitted to the convulsions.

"Y-you bitc-"

He writhed, foam seeping out of the corner of his open mouth. Dariusz's eyes had rolled to the back of his head, but every now and then Peony saw flashes of his brown iris. She just watched him convulsing on the ground as she sat primly on the chaise lounge, smiling grimly.

And at last, after Dariusz Bogaty had taken his last gasping breath and his body had writhed with poison induced agony for the last time, Peony was done.

Natasha strode over to the balcony and pulled the light grey velvet curtains away from the door to the balcony. Opening the glass doors she took one last look at the corpse lying on the bedroom floor. She smiled.

Then without a trace, the Black Widow disappeared off the balcony. Her job was done.

-o-

Fun fact, Dariusz means "wealthy" in polish. Quite a fitting name I believe! The Beskids are a beautiful mountain range near the border of Poland. What did you guys think of this point of view? With Natasha undercover, I wanted to immerse her completely in the role, that's why I called her Peony almost the entire time. I kind of wanted to make it seem like Peony and Natasha were two different people. Sorry this took so long, I have killer writers block right now and I've been dealing with some personal stuff at home. So as of now, I am going on a temporary hiatus. I don't know how long this will last, hopefully things at home will straighten up soon. Thank you to everybody who has read and supported this story so far.

Love you all,

-Chaos