Author's Note: Over the last couple of chapters, a number of readers have either reviewed or PM'd me to say that they are concerned that Harry and Natasha's relationship is moving too quickly. This was a conscious decision on my part, for a number of reasons. Firstly, Harry, and more particularly Natasha, have been through a great deal, and are wary of entering into any kind of emotional commitment to each other at this stage. It is my instinct that my version of their characters are more comfortable expressing their connection physically right now. In addition, there will come a time very soon, when Natasha will have to go back to New York, putting an 'end by', or at the very least a 'make a decision by' date on their relationship. I don't want to say any more or I'll spoil the last few chapters. I realise that this isn't necessarily to everyone's taste, but this was never going to be a 'slow burner'. I hope this won't put anyone off.

Back to my update... thank you to everyone for their encouraging and constructive comments on the last chapter. Writing - particularly adult scenes - is incredibly subjective, and I know I won't always please everyone. However to the guest reviewer who essentially said... It's not the smut that offends it's bad smut like this... There you go... there's a lot of smut out there, I hope you find something more to your taste... I thought that we were done with the raunchy stuff for now but apparently Harry and Natasha have other ideas... nothing too serious though - just a little mild morning after...

It was the sunlight on her face, and a blast of cool morning air which awoke her. Grumbling softly Natasha burrowed back under the covers, chasing sleep, but the long warm body that had been curled protectively around her all night wasn't there anymore, and the light from the drawn curtain was too bright to ignore. Squinting blearily, she peered over the covers to see Harry, dressed only in a loose pair of pyjama trousers, standing by the open window reading a message.

Without looking up, he smiled. "You're staring"

She smiled sleepily. "Actually, I'm ogling. I'm wondering why the gorgeous half naked guy by the window is standing there getting cold on his own when he should still be in bed with me..."

Harry returned to the bed, perching on the edge, reaching out to smooth her disordered hair, "Great bed head by the way". Chuckling he leaned forward to kiss her lightly. "Good morning"

Natasha pulled herself up to a sitting position, slipping out of bed to straddle his lap, shivering at the chilly air on her skin. "That, Mr Potter, was a very unsatisfactory good morning. Would you like to try again?"

Harry smiled, running his hands down her bare back to settle on her hips. "Well since you ask so nicely..."

Her pulse rate fluttered at the vivid memory of what had followed the same words the night before, arousal building slowly, making her moan softly into the kiss, wriggling closer onto his lap. When the need to breathe finally separated them, Natasha ran her hands down his chest, with a mock-scowl. "Harry, this is becoming a habit..."

"What's that?"

"How is it that I'm the naked one again. This isn't very fair..." She scowled at his pyjama trousers as if they had personally offended her... "Why don't you get rid of these and come back to bed. You got to have your fun with me last night, I think it's only reasonable that I get to return the favour."

Harry groaned into her shoulder, reaching reluctantly to catch her hand as it slid down his stomach towards his waistband . "Ah Tash no, that's not fair. There's nothing I want more than to spend the morning in bed with you, but that message – that was from Kingsley, he needs to speak to us privately, and will be coming to us rather than the other way round."

Natasha frowned. "Why would he come here? It doesn't make sense... Whoa - hold on... coming here... when?"

Harry looked at his watch. "In about half an hour, and I really ought to get some coffee on, so there isn't even time for a quickie"

It was clear that Natasha didn't approve of this plan at all. "We could always grab a shower together"

"Tasha, if I have the good fortune to end up getting wet and soapy with you, I can guarantee that we will definitely still be in there when the Minister for Magic walks into my sitting room. And officially we are still on the clock. I could put it down to developing international magical / muggle relations, but I don't think he's going to buy it somehow."

She huffed in frustration, pouting a little. "OK, but I would just like to note that tonight it's my turn to make you beg."

Harry rubbed his thumb over her lower lip and followed it with a kiss. "Tash, I have the most beautiful woman in London, no let me rephrase that. I have the most beautiful woman period, naked in my lap, promising to do utterly unspeakable things to me tonight, and you think I'm going to resist...?"

"Harry"

"Mm Hmm?"

"Will you please stop saying things like that, otherwise I will not be responsible for my actions, and your boss is going to get a hell of a shock when he gets here."

Harry couldn't resist the titillating image of Kingsley walking in on them, perhaps in the kitchen, or in the shower… He was suddenly aware that Natasha was watching him, heat and laughter mingled on her face. He had the uncomfortable feeling that she knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Why Harry Potter, who knew that... you... are clearly a very... bad... boy..."

Oh shit!

Looking at his watch he realised with horror that they were down to twenty minutes…

"Ms Romanoff, shower, now... Coffee downstairs in ten minutes. Vamos".

"Spoilsport..."

ooo0ooo

Harry was still downstairs alone when the floo chimed, heralding Kingsley's arrival.

"Harry?"

"Hello Minister, come in, can I offer you coffee?"

Kingsley brushed soot off his robes, smiling genially. "Kingsley please Harry, we're on your turf now. And yes please, coffee would be wonderful ."

Harry indicated the library sofas. "Do you want to sit down – I'll be back in a minute?"

"No panic Harry, don't stand on ceremony. I've visited this house many times, although not since you sorted it out. It looks good. You've managed to obliterate the 'centuries of dark magic' decor." Stepping into the kitchen he looked around in pleasure. Very nice. The old layout with the long table up the middle that you had to shuffle round was a nightmare, this is much better".

Harry smiled, handing him a mug. "It seems a long time ago now, the Order of the Phoenix, the Weasleys..." his expression darkened "Sirius, Remus, Tonks... Fred".

"You miss still them."

Harry shrugged. "I do, but you can't grieve forever you know. Eventually things start to scab over. I have a life now, friends..."

"And what about love? Is there a lady in your life?"

Harry looked shifty, thinking of the lovely redhead upstairs... "Can I come back to you on that one?"

Kingsley chuckled. "Not Ginny Weasley then?"

Harry shook his head, spooning milk and sugar into his coffee "Heaven forbid. We were close at school... to be honest I did consider that she might be... you know. But no. Not for a long time. We wanted different things..."

"Different things?"

"I wanted time to develop my career, my life. See a little of the world. And Ginny. She wanted to be Mrs Harry Potter, wife of the Boy Who Lived, Mrs Saviour of the Wizarding World. I don't even know where she is any more. Last I heard she'd been seen hanging out with some rich European type, Italian, Spanish... I forget, it was a long time ago."

Kingsley looked around and changed the subject... "Aren't we expecting Ms Romanoff to join us?"

Harry took a sip of his coffee. "She'll be down in a minute, we had a really long day yesterday, so she hasn't been up long." Sure enough he looked up, hearing footsteps on the stairs, and rose to pour another mug of coffee. "Speak of the devil and she will appear."

Without thinking he added sugar and just a splash of milk to Tasha's coffee, handing it to her automatically as she entered. A flicker of surprise crossed her face as she realised that the burly man in the brightly coloured robes sipping coffee at Harry's kitchen table must be the most powerful man in the British Wizarding Community.

Kingsley's eyes widened as he rose to greet her. Clearly whatever he had been expecting, it had not been this, Harry took a moment to discretely appreciate Tasha's black jumper/jeans/knee boots combo from their first meeting. Her long red hair loose on her shoulders, she looked stunning, as though she'd just had twelve hours unbroken sleep. Seeing her raised eyebrow as she took her coffee with a murmur of thanks, Harry remembered his manners. "Ah, sorry... Kingsley, may I introduce Agent Natasha Romanoff of SHIELD. Natasha, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic."

Kingsley rose to shake Natasha's hand. "It's a pleasure Agent Romanoff"

"Natasha, please Minister"

Kingsley smiled appreciatively. Harry knew he had been very happily married for many years, but he was by no means immune to a pretty face - and Natasha was so very much more than simply a pretty face.

When they were all settled around the table Kingsley produced some papers from a fold in his robes. "First the good news. In spite of my dire predictions I am pleased to say that I now have permission for you and Natasha to visit Branwen. Harry I will leave you to fill Natasha in on the details when I have gone."

Harry turned the piece of parchment in his hands dubiously. This had been far easier than he had expected. He had anticipated several days of wrangling before the Statute Office capitulated. "Blimey Kingsley. Who did you have to promote to swing this so quickly?"

Was Harry being paranoid, or did Kingsley look... shifty... almost guilty?

"Put it this way. When it comes to the annual spending review, the Statute Office is looking to avoid the worst of the cuts. I'm going to have to completely rejig next year's budget thanks you Harry."

"Thanks Kingsley, I really do appreciate it. However, you said that this is the good news, from which I can safely deduce that there must be some bad news..."

Kingsley's face did indeed look very serious. "Harry, when we spoke yesterday you said that you had been spotted by this HYDRA on several occasions, even though you have taken extensive magical precautions to stay off the grid. Is that right?"

Harry nodded. That's right. They were at St Asaph on both days, then at Chester, even though we changed our appearance twice in the meantime. I don't understand it. That's why we ditched the car and apparated back to London. Some of it could be good luck and good investigating but..."

Natasha looked at him. "... but?"

He shrugged. "When we got home yesterday evening, I turned to close the door, and I thought I saw a flash from a window... like from binoculars or a camera lens. I'm probably just being paranoid though... I mean how could they know about this place. Even with the fidelius weakened once Dumbledore died, it's still in effect, how could they know where I live?"

Kingsley nodded thoughtfully. "This concerns me too. The chances of tracking you without magical knowledge and ability are virtually non-existent so I got my opposite number in New York to have a very long talk with your..." here he nodded to Natasha "...people for more information on this HYDRA, and they came up with some interesting and rather concerning whispers." He turned back to Natasha, "...tell me Natasha, have you ever heard of Araposa?"

The Russian agent frowned into her coffee before shaking her head slowly. "I don't believe so. What do you have on it... them?"

"Very little I'm afraid, only smoke and mirrors. Apparently there is a whisper - only a whisper mind you - that Hydra may have a member of the magical community on the payroll. If this is the case, they will understand who Harry is, how his power works and what he is capable of. It puts you both at a disadvantage"

"A member of the magical community... Are we talking about a former Death Eater do you think?"

"What the hell is a Death Eater?"

"It's kind of a long story Tash, can I catch you up later... Kingsley?"

The Minister for Magic shook his head. "Most of the principal Death Eaters are either dead or in Azkaban by now." He looked meaningfully at Harry. "It could be one of their children of course..."

Seeing his expression, Harry tensed "No Kingsley..."

"Harry... I'm not saying... although you have to admit that he would be very well placed..."

"No Kingsley... no...not Draco. Absolutely not. I trust him 110%. I have no doubts on that score"

"Draco?"

"My second in command in the Phoenix Squad. His father was a Death Eater, dragged Draco into the whole mess when he was far too young to choose for himself... but he's moved on from that. His father is dead and Draco has my complete trust. There is no one I would rather have at my back."

Kingsley shrugged. "We may be arguing over nothing. There's no guarantee that Araposa is anything to do with the Death Eaters, he could be anyone... in fact there's nothing to say that he even exists. You just need to be aware of the possibility."

Harry nodded. "That's why you wanted to speak to us here."

"Next to Gringott's Bank you have the tightest wards in London Harry. No one is going to overhear us in here. Just watch your backs OK. There's no guarantee that your powers will give you the protection we'd hoped for. Although I would say that this lady here is perfectly capable of doing her fair share of protection... your reputation precedes you Ms Romanoff. Unlike most of the magical community I am only too aware of your very impressive work with the Avengers"

"Thank you Minister. Your confidence is appreciated."

Kingsley set down his coffee mug and checked his watch. "Well, I'm afraid I have another meeting to get back to so I have to be off. Branwen has been notified of your arrival, and will expect you tomorrow afternoon in time for supper. I would advise that you stay here tonight and apparate directly to your destination tomorrow, especially if the house is being watched. Ms Romanoff, it has been a pleasure. Harry, I expect a full report when this is all over. If you need anything don't hesitate to contact me directly."

"Thank you Sir. Could you please ensure that Draco gets some support in my absence, he's incredibly competent and efficient but there are still some real greenhorns in that group."

"Leave it with me. I'll have a word with Fitch myself, make sure he keeps an eye on things... and that he plays nice with Mr Malfoy. You just worry about keeping yourselves safe, foiling the international criminal plot and saving the world. All in a day's work..."

"All in a day's work. Goodbye Kingsley."

ooo0ooo

When Kingsley had gone Natasha made more coffee while Harry went over the permit for the following day's visit...

"All OK?"

Harry looked up as Natasha dropped into the seat opposite with their drinks and a plate of biscuits she had found in the cupboard. He nodded. "It's fine. We can apparate straight from here tomorrow afternoon."

"So that gives us some time?"

"Yes. It's a shame we can't go today, or even tomorrow morning, but I'd anticipated it taking much longer than this to even get permission, so I'm not prepared to push it "

"Well that gives us some time to talk?"

Harry dunked a ginger nut into his coffee and chewed slowly. Natasha watched him and pulled a face. "What did you want to talk about Tash?"

"Seems I'm not the only one with a past... Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, wars, Death Eaters... Harry, what the hell did SHIELD miss?"

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "It's a long story... come on, bring your coffee, if I'm going to tell you we might as well be comfortable, I'll light the fire in the library."

Once the fire was blazing merrily and their coffees topped up, Harry settled himself comfortably on the sofa, smiling quietly when, without a second thought Natasha removed her boots, she wriggling her socked toes comfortably under his thigh for warmth, before regarding him over the top of her mug.

"OK, Mr Magic Man, what's the story"

Harry took a moment for a sip of coffee, wondering how far to go back.

"Well… once upon a time there was a boy called Thomas Marvolo Riddle."

"Did his parents hate him or something… Marvolo?"

"After a fashion. He was the son of the demented daughter of a psychopathic monster, and an arrogant inbred muggle. Not that the poor bastard deserved what he got. There are some pretty powerful love potions out there, and she managed to get to him good and proper. Tom Riddle was the result."

"So Tom Riddle was like you… a wizard"

"Tom Riddle was a wizard. But he was nothing like me!" Seeing the surprise on Natasha's face, he winced. "Sorry, that's a bit of a raw nerve… there are similarities. Like me Tom was orphaned very early in life and had a difficult upbringing. He was in a muggle orphanage… I … well enough of that for now. Tom Riddle also attended the same school as me, back when Professor Dumbledore..."

"The old guy in the picture yesterday?"

"That's the one… when Professor Dumbledore was a teacher at the School. In general Tom was very successful at the school, drawing to him an inner circle of wizards who shared his obsession with blood purity." Seeing Natasha's confusion, Harry elaborated. "It was the belief of one of the four founders of the school that only pure blood wizards were worthy of the study of magic"

"Like Hitler's Aryan Brotherhood"

"Precisely. Riddle kept his muggle father very quiet and traded instead on his mother's direct descent from this founder, which made her pretty much wizarding aristocracy. He and his little group believed that pure blood wizards were the dominant species on earth, that the mixing of magical and muggle blood should be avoided at all costs, and that so called muggle born witches and wizards were an abomination that must have somehow stolen their powers from true witches or wizards."

"Wait… so you're saying that it's possible for a magical child to be born to non-magical parents? How does that work?"

"In terms of muggle science, magic is simply a recessive genetic trait. A family can pass on this recessive gene for generations without it showing up, until a descendant has a child with another person with the same recessive gene. Under those circumstances, there is a chance that at least one of their children will be magical, even though there is apparently no magic in their family. This must have been what happened with my mother."

"Wow OK. That must be a shock. But go on. Tell me about this Riddle guy"

"So Tom Riddle grew up at Hogwarts, hatching his nasty little anti muggle born plans, apparently unsuspected by anyone but Dumbledore, who had an eye on him even then. Once he left Hogwarts, his power and influence increased, and his little circle of psychos went with him. They called themselves the Death Eaters, took to wearing tall hats and these freaky silver masks."

"Nice… you magic types clearly do a good line in creepy villains"

"Oh you have no idea"

"So this Riddle is basically trying to take over the world."

"Exactly. I don't know whether his movement ever made it as far as the States, but there was certainly trouble in Northern Europe at least. But Riddle had a second obsession- with his own mortality. You and I know that there are worse things to face than death, but Voldemort could never see that. So while he was at school, he discovered an horrific and virtually unknown piece of black magic called a horcrux. In conjunction with the spell, an act of murder splits off a piece of the soul, embedding it in an object. As long as the fragment is safe, the rest of the caster's soul is effectively tethered to the mortal world, unable to pass on, even if the physical body is destroyed. To our knowledge Riddle was only the second person to accomplish this, and the only one to successfully create multiple fragments."

Natasha was watching him, wide eyed. "Dear God... wait...you said he discovered how to do this at school? What kind of stuff do they have in their library?"

"Actually, that's a very good question. By the early eighties when I was born the British magical community was virtually at war, with the forces of good being led by Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. My Mum and Dad, only a few years out of school, and barely more than kids themselves, were both members. Apparently there was a prophecy concerning the "chosen one" that would be able to kill the Dark Lord – Lord Voldemort he was calling himself by then. One born "as the seventh month dies"

"You"

Harry shrugged. "The stupid thing is that there was another child – a mate of mine – Neville Longbottom, who could just as easily have been the one, but ironically, by focusing on me... trying to destroy me, Voldemort effectively created the instrument of his own destruction... when he killed my parents."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen months old or thereabouts. I don't remember much. My mum screaming, a flash of light, and Voldemort's laughter. He tried to kill me, but it rebounded… protection from my mum apparently, leaving me this scar. Voldemort disappeared without a trace."

"And you were raised by your Aunt and Uncle?"

Harry nodded. "To be honest, I don't really want to talk about those years. Until I went to school I thought my name was boy or freak. My first Hogwarts letter was addressed to Harry Potter, the Cupboard under the Stairs…"

If the Dursleys had been available, thought Harry, watching sympathy disgust and blind fury chase across Natasha's face, they would have been dead by now, in one of the no doubt thousands of ways that she had at her disposal. The one thing he was certain of was that it would have hurt… a lot.

"They kept you in a closet?"

"My bedroom. The reason I've never been afraid of spiders."

"And you didn't know you were a wizard?"

"No. I just knew that there was something awful wrong with me. The reason why my aunt and uncle loved my cousin Dudley so much, and loathed the very sight of me."

"Didn't anyone check on you? Don't you have Social Services in this country?"

"Nope, I saw no one, magical or muggle. Dumbledore literally left me on the doorstep in the middle of the night at the end of October, and didn't see me again until he sent Hagrid to find me when I turned eleven."

"Hagrid… his … deputy?"

"His gamekeeper"

Natasha closed her eyes briefly. "I'm beginning to change my mind about the "nice" Professor Dumbledore. Doorsteps in October aside – the possible Saviour of the Wizarding World didn't warrant a proper teacher, or even a visit from his august self?"

Harry shook his head. "Another good question. So I arrived at school to realise that I appeared to be the only person there that hadn't heard of me. "The Boy Who Lived" they called me, because I was inadvertently the cause of Voldemort's disappearance, and the only person on record to survive a direct killing curse. Over the next few years, you have no idea how utterly sick I got of that tagline. Anyway. Voldemort made his first attempt to return in that first year at school when I was eleven."

"And Dumbledore kept you safe?"

"Actually Dumbledore was in London. Ron Hermione and I kept me safe"

"I have many things to say at this point. None of them that Dumbledore would wish to hear. Go on."

"He tried again in my second year, when one of his horcruxes came to light. It nearly killed Ginny Weasley, my friend Ron's little sister who's mind was taken over, making her release a Basilisk into the school."

"A BASILISK. A real basilisk… huge snake, kills just by looking at someone."

"That's the one." He pulled back the sleeve of his jumper to reveal a scar that hadn't been visible in the firelight the night before. "That nearly killed me"

Natasha examined it in stunned fascination. "You fought a basilisk. At what thirteen?"

"Twelve actually, I wasn't thirteen till the end of July. In my fourth year I fought dragons and wrangled sea creatures, before I finally got to confront Voldemort for the first time. That was the year of the Triwizard tournament… the year he came back. He killed a schoolmate of mine in the process. Cedric Diggory. That was the year that my mate Ron finally started to get it."

"Get what?"

"That the attention... the speculation in the press... it was a nightmare. Before that he spent a significant amount of time being jealous of me. He and Ginny were the two youngest of seven children in this dirt poor but really wonderful, close, loving pure blood family. Ron, who was already hopelessly hooked up on the idea that his elder brothers were all better looking, cleverer, more popular, more successful than him, then went and compounded his issues by becoming the best friend of the most famous eleven year old in the wizarding world." Harry shrugged, unable to keep the note of bitterness out of his voice. "Plus I had money. I had no family, no parents, but I was famous and I had money… he never understood that I would have given it all up in less than a heartbeat to have had what he had"

"And he was your friend… he sounds like a dick. But carry on…"

"My godfather was murdered by the Death Eaters the following year – the same time I found out about the bloody prophecy, then the year I turned sixteen they killed Dumbledore. Before he died he told me all he knew… which wasn't much… about the horcruxes. So as soon as I came of age - seventeen in our world - Ron, Hermione and I left school and set off on the single longest, worst camping trip in the history of very bad camping trips. By then Voldemort had taken over the ministry. The Order of the Phoenix had gone underground, and unbeknownst to us, the other potential Chosen One, Neville Longbottom, God bless him, was busy organising his own resistance movement at Hogwarts. I won't go into details, because it's a long story in its own right, but suffice to say we eventually got back to Hogwarts, almost a year later, four horcruxes down and two more to find and destroy. There was a huge battle. Too many died, most of them only kids. It took years to rebuild the castle afterwards. But then I found out the truth, from the memories of a dying man."

By now Natasha had abandoned her end of the sofa and was curled into his side, legs resting across his. "Go on"

"There was a seventh horcrux - made by accident. Me. Dumbledore had known all along, but Voldemort and I had no idea"

"But I thought that you needed to destroy…."

"I walked into the woods, found Voldemort, and gave myself up."

"At seventeen..." She tried to imagine how that must have felt... The kind of lonely, desperate courage needed to walk alone into the woods knowing that your death, at the hands of a psychopath, was the only chance to save everything you believed in... she had offered up her life any number of times, but there was something in Harry's voice which chilled her to the bone.

"Tash. I was seventeen, but I felt at least sixty by then. I just wanted it all to be over. I remember the curse, the flash of light, then nothing. I came to five minutes later. I was alive but the horcrux was gone, killed by the killing curse. Voldemort and his thugs took what he thought was my body back to the castle. I escaped, the battle continued, and once Neville had killed the snake, I finally killed Voldemort."

"And just because you hadn't saved the world enough, you now do this for a living." Because like me, you didn't know anything else but the fight Natasha thought sadly " What happened to your friends?"

"Hermione and I are still close. She works for the ministry in …. another department. Ron didn't do so well. He tried the Aurors but couldn't settle to it… he'd lost a brother in the battle, and he never really got over it. He took to drink, and got kicked out in the end, even Kingsley couldn't smooth things over any longer. He helps his brother with his shop, but the booze is still a problem, at least it was the last I heard of him, he won't talk to me anymore. Too many bad memories I suppose. Ginny his sister was a well-known athlete until she retired. Last I heard of her she was hooked up with some shady aristocrat - from Spain maybe…. I don't remember. And my greatest enemy at school... the Slytherin git with the Death Eater father? Draco is now my second in command and my best mate. He and Hermione have been circling around one another for years, hopefully they'll finally discover they're insanely in love with one another before they're too old and grey to do anything about it.

Natasha took a mouthful of coffee, pulling a face when she realised it was stone cold... Harry smiled. "I could offer to warm that up for you, but it never tastes the same, I'll make us a fresh cup in a minute. Are you OK?"

"Reality check, I guess. God knows, all of the Avengers have had difficult pasts, in so many different ways, but... wow... that's up there with any of us." She considered him carefully. "All in all, you seem remarkably sane and balanced under the circumstances."

"I did have people there for me... Professor McGonagall, some of the members of the Order, old friends of my parents, and school friends." Sliding out from under her legs, he brushed a finger over her cheek. "... It was tough, but nowhere near as tough as you had it Tash." He looked at his watch. "Blimey, it's way past lunchtime. What do you fancy?"

Natasha pulled a face, stretching her legs. "To be honest I'm really not that hungry. I've been indoors too long I think. I can go for days without exercise if I have to, but but I don't like it - I don't suppose you have an indoor gym by any chance?"

Harry paused, halfway out of the door "You run?"

"In my job – of course I run"

He shrugged. "OK. Do you fancy a few miles? Nothing too strenuous, just some fresh air and exercise"

"Aren't we supposed to be staying out of sight?"

Harry shook his head. "Apparition itself is untraceable. Providing we go somewhere random they shouldn't be able to track us. It's the places they expect us to go that are the problem because they can just wait there until we arrive."

"Well in that case" Natasha smiled as she stood up "... give me five minutes."

ooo0ooo

Harry apparated them to a windswept beach on the North Norfolk coast - almost deserted at this time of year, where they ran along the flat wet sand until Harry was forced to concede, collapsing in the dunes, breathing heavily until Natasha jogged back to join him. He looked up at with a rueful grin "I thought I was in reasonable shape... but you leave me standing"

She shrugged. "I run a lot in my line of work. I don't get to do a lot of this kind of thing, visiting libraries, archives, research. Most of the time it's very physical." She rested her chin on her knees. "This almost feels like a holiday at the moment, it's a shame it isn't going to last."

Harry watched her profile, which was grave, almost sad, as she studied the waves running up the beach toward. "Are you OK Tasha?"

She sighed, eyes never leaving the incoming tide. "Be careful Harry"

"Of HYDRA?"

"Well, yes. But that isn't what I meant. Of us, of... this. When this is over I'll have to go back to New York, to the Avengers and the Black Widow. You know this isn't going to last." She pulled off her hair band, letting the wind tug it free. "This isn't me... I can't be like this normally. Hell I'm never like this" she looked sideways on him. "When you see me... you just see me. Not what they made me. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing"

"What was it like? This training they put you through when you were a child?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about most of it... can't talk about some of it. Although you would understand better than most. You had to face things too, things that no child should have to worry about... but no. Not now."

He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "If there ever comes a time when you do want to talk about it, I'll be here. Even if you're back in New York, even if we haven't seen each other for years, I'll always be here if you need someone to listen."

She shook her head. "If I told you a fraction of the things I've done Harry, you wouldn't want to hold me like this again. I've lied and killed in the service of liars and killers. I've killed indiscriminately in the service of the worst of humanity and never questioned it. No good I can do now can ever wipe out what I've done."

"Would you do that now... if they asked you to?"

She shook her head. "No. Things are different now. I work for Fury, but he doesn't own my soul. This... you and I... would never ever have been permitted. It would have been a distraction. If you were a target – a mark. Someone to be cultivated, that would be expected, but not like this."

Harry frowned. He hadn't allowed himself to think of this before... "They expected you to do that. To.. to sleep with men, as part of a mission"

Natasha nodded. "Why else would they recruit girls. When I was seventeen they had me working as a whore in the red light district of Moscow for three months, turning tricks until my mark appeared. We were the property of the state to do with as they wished. You do understand what the Black Widow Spider does don't you Harry?"

He nodded, his face dark. "She mates, then kills and eats the male. Is that what they trained you for, to seduce and kill?"

She nodded. "Among other things, yes"

"And now?"

She chuckled. "You are not my first 'real' relationship Harry – there have been others. But..." she paused, trying to put her thoughts on last night into words. "...no one has ever taken so much care of me. Even when I don't need protecting, it's still nice to be treated as though I do; I have to admit it was...enlightening. And on the subject of last night... and this morning... after all that sweat, sea and sand I feel the need for a shower." Leaning in closer, she dropped little kisses along the line of his jaw. "Didn't you say something this morning about getting 'wet and soapy' with me."

Harry didn't need to be asked twice...