Disclaimer: I own nothing.

If these were normal circumstances – normal meaning that she was going to kill some sleazy CEO or corporate heir, without a client who knows her past breathing down her neck – she would know exactly what to do. Chance encounter at some high-end place, bat her eyelashes and show some cleavage, play the damsel in distress. Then she would be taken home and he would be killed half-naked as she sits astride him.

But this was Tony Stark. The man was untouchable. Every one of the numerous attempts to kidnap or kill him had failed. Something in Natasha – that proud, unbeatable spark that she's carried with her her whole life and had pushed her to become the Red Room's star pupil – was excited for this challenge. If she killed Stark she would cement her reputation as the top assassin in the country, maybe even the world.

If.

There was also the fact that Hammer knew more – a lot more – about her than she was comfortable with. She knew the man, or at least knew about him. Another one of those guys with more money than they know what to do with and more guns trained on them than they know about. Well, Hammer definitely knew he had some guns trained on him, even if he was probably unaware of the actual number. He was, like Stark, unkillable. But that was because he surrounded himself with security at all times; a rather uncouth method compared to Stark's. Though he wasn't quite on Stark's calibre in the genius factor either; both had started life as child geniuses, though only Stark had retained the label in adulthood. Hammer's brilliance left him as soon as puberty arrived.

Natasha decided to deal with the problem of Hammer and his hold over her when she's gotten rid of Stark. She was safe as long as she was planning to kill Stark, and then at least she would have Stark's murder – not to mention the payment – under her belt. That would secure her position and future employment.

So, going on with killing Stark seemed to be the shrew course of action, whether she decided to deal with Hammer or not. After reading every news article about him within a month and confirming what she already knew – that he was a cocky playboy to put all cocky playboys to shame – she tried less conventional means of finding out about him. Hacking, which was one of her numerous areas of expertise. But Stark's server proved as difficult to hack as it was to kill him. It was without a doubt the most sophisticated and unbreathable cyber defense she had seen in her life. Even with her best attempts she couldn't get in. She eventually had to admit defeat and made herself a cup of tea; but despite the failure she couldn't help but feel all the more eager to meet Stark, the mind who had made that system good enough to keep her out.

That meant doing things old school, and a more drawn-out game plan. That was okay; when she started her career she didn't have all this fancy tech stuff either. The memory of her Red Room days brought out a faint ache in the back of her mind, just bordering on painful and definitely annoying enough to stop her from concentrating.

She shoved the memories in a mental drawer and locked it. Back to work.

It took her two weeks, but she got into Stark Industries. Faked records, a tailor-made CV, an interview she charmed her way through. Then there was the polygraph, which was admittedly better than most and would have deterred most assassins, but she was Natasha Romanov, and the Red Room would've been ashamed if she couldn't beat a simple lie detector. And then she – or rather, Natalie Rushman – was in, as part of Stark Industries' security . That was always an easy way to get close to the rich and paranoid; they never suspect their security detail.

It took her another week to meet Stark and get his attention.

He was in the gym, she was told. Boxing lessons with Happy, who was his bodyguard. A little fact that was going to change soon, if things went well for her. So she found herself the little errand of delivering papers for him to sign – a task usually assigned to secretaries and assistants, but she tweaked the strings enough so that it landed in her hands. After that it was simply batting her eyelashes at him and introducing herself as Natalie Rushman, getting him interested enough to Google her, and show off her skills by taking Happy down in three seconds. "I want one," she heard him say to Pepper Potts when she sashayed her way out of the gym. She smirked; he was in her palm.

That very afternoon, she was summoned to Stark's office.

"Ms Rushman," he addressed her when she entered after a brisk knock. He was sitting at his desk, having swapped his earlier gym clothes for an Italian-designed suit that fit perfectly in the glass and metal of Stark Industries' main office.

"Mr Stark." She stood in front of his desk, hands in front of her; polite, professional, demure. She threw in a smile that was just coy enough. "How can I be of service?"

"What do you think about a promotion?"

"To what, sir?"

"My personal security team."

Well, that wasn't unexpected, but she hadn't anticipated it to be so soon. She only had to fake half of her surprise. "Oh." Her eyebrows rose and she played the part of the shy, flattered girl. "Thank you, sir."

"I wanted you to start today, but" – he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and stood up, – "legal stuff, you know, with the contracts. Lawyers, ugh. So you'll be starting" – he came out from behind his desk and placed his hands on her shoulders – "tomorrow."

She gave another smile, just shy enough, as though she couldn't believe she was in such close proximity to Tony Stark. "Thank you, sir," she said again, letting her breath catch in her throat just a little, like she was in awe to be given such a privilege.

"Tony."

She looked up, summoning a sparkle to her eyes even though she hated this man, hated all that he stood for and hated that through him, Justin Hammer had power over her. "Thank you, Tony." She leaned a little closer, like she was about to kiss him on his cheek, but pulled back at the last minute, out of his grasp.

"Is there anything else you need, Mr Stark?"

"No." He turned away, hands in pockets, looking out the window behind his desk. "That will be it for now, Ms Rushman." She turned to leave, but – "Wait!" he called.

"Yes?" Her eyebrows raised just minutely, expectantly.

"I need a companion for dinner tonight."

"Isn't there a legal – thing – that would prevent my services until tomorrow?"

"Not as my bodyguard, just as friends." He smiled, fulfilling her expectations by acting every bit the womanizer of reputation. "I'm allowed to be friends with beautiful girls, aren't I?"

You do little else, she thought with disdain, but smiled demurely and said, "At seven?"

"At seven."

Fifteen minutes before seven, Natasha had changed into a wine red dress, just proper enough to be demure, just revealing enough to be sexy. There was nowhere to hide weapons though, and she briefly considered changing to something more practical, with somewhere to conceal a dagger or a gun. But she decided to stick with the dress. She wasn't planning on killing him tonight; it would draw too much suspicion to herself.

At seven o'clock, she got into his limo in front of the building. Happy opened the door for her and Stark was waiting in the back with a sexist compliment on her looks. She accepted it with a gracious smile to hide her disgust. She wished that she could kill him right then and there; she probably could, too, even unarmed. But there was Happy driving, and another bodyguard, Lucas, in the passenger seat. Two armed, highly trained personnel who were now aware of her abilities. She could sense Happy's distrustful eyes on her in the rearview mirror. If she tried killing Stark now with literally her bare hands, she would have a hole through her brain before he stopped breathing. No, stick to the plan.

They pulled up outside a restaurant. It wasn't excessively fancy, for which she was thankful, but it was pricey enough for Stark to show off. Happy and Lucas followed them at a distance, far enough to allow some degree of privacy but close enough to protect Tony should Natasha try anything. She supposed that poison was always an option, but she hadn't prepared tonight. She wasn't going to kill him, only get close enough to him so that more opportunities could arise.

It was easier than she expected. For all his paranoia, Tony Stark was a womanizer, and beautiful women were his weakness. He flirted with her and she flirted back, brazen at times, coy at others. "I don't get it," he said near the end of the evening. "Why would a gorgeous girl like you choose to be a bodyguard?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said, forking off a piece of her cake and bringing it to her red lips. "I guess it kinda chose me."

"C'mon," he said. "You're beautiful and clever, you can do anything."

She smiled and ducked her head to feign shyness, pushing an errant strand of hair back. "Why thank you, Mr Stark," she said, evading the question. She thought on her feet for a plausible explanation, hoping all the while that he wouldn't push the question.

Thankfully he didn't. "C'mon, I told you to call me Tony."

"Okay. Tony." She smiled at him and he grinned back, already moved on to a different topic.

"You know anything about AIs, Natalie?"

She laughed; she knew exactly what her husky voice did to men. "Like sci-fi movie AIs? Robots?"

He chuckled along with her. "Kinda. I've been developing a system, it's basically a personalized butler. It keeps track of all my digital stuff – data, servers, stuff like that. Eventually he's going to run pretty much everything in the house now."

"Everything? To what extent?"

"Regulating temperature, data analysis, keeps track of my files… everything. He's like a butler and PA rolled into one."

" 'He'? "

"Yeah." Tony looked sheepish. "Jarvis. Stands for Just Another Rather Very Intelligent System," he added almost defensively. Soft spot, Natasha thought. Could Tony Stark be emotionally compromised over a robot?

"Wow," she said, "I'd love to see that." She was only half lying. She'd seen the security system the man designed and she knew that if anyone could make an AI that impressive, it was Stark.

"You should. Come over sometime." He smirked suggestively.

"I'd love to." She took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving his. "Sometime."

After their meal they waited at the front for Happy to bring the car around. Lucas stood a small distance away, inconspicuous to the average passer-by, but half of Natasha's attention was on him and the way he watched them out of the corner of his eye.

Tony, however, seemed oblivious to his bodyguard's presence. He was probably used to them hanging around him, having grown up as Howard Stark's son. She had not doubt that there had been a high price on him even as a kid.

"So, how about coming over the see Jarvis?"

"What, now?" No, no, this is too soon. She needed more time to establish her cover. Once she slept with him it would be over; he would never look in her direction again. She had to draw out the game, get him to trust her enough to let his guard down.

"Yeah," he said, "why not?"

She looked down. "It's unprofessional, Tony," she murmured, her dark red lips barely parting. "And I don't want to start talk about you and me."

"No, s'pose not," he agreed reluctantly. His gaze turned unfocused. "Guess I could…" he murmured and Natasha got the feeling that he was thinking aloud. He wanted her in his bed. Good, because that was where she wanted to be. Just not now.

Author's note:

I'm sorry that it takes me so long to update, I'm super busy with end of semester work right now but that'll be over in a couple of weeks. Then I'm going to see AoU (so no spoilers guys!)

Hope this chapter lives up to the first. Tony's a dick right now but I promise that changes will happen, to his character AND to the story.

Once again, please go read the fic that inspried this one, "people aren't supposed to look back" by Thalia Clio on AO3.