She sits there in the darkness, watching, waiting, letting it wrap and glide around her; attentive eyes catching the corners where the light folds beneath the door. She hears his footsteps move up the stairs first, before his slow, lumbering steps stop outside the door. The doorknob rattles. A streak of light bursts into the dark room from the hallway. He doesn't see her, he doesn't even know she's there. Not yet. Then he flips the light switch and turns around.
She's sitting, ankles crossed, hands clasped around her knee. "Hello, Miles," she says. Nothing startles a man more than finding a strange person where it was supposed to be safe. Something she's learnt from experience. But she is a woman, and it is always different when a man finds a woman in their home.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of the company of such a striking woman?" he tilts his head, letting an easy smile flit over his face. His body is open and calm, but he is no fool. He hides his emotions well, she notes but there is no deceiving her.
He doesn't realize who she is, yet, and this does not surprise Natasha. She is, after all, the keeper of secrets. Her name is known, but never her true face.
"I heard you were looking for me."
"I'd remember if I was looking for such a beautiful woman as you." He drops the keys in the dish and takes the seat opposite her. He props his feet on the coffee table, a perfect impression of tranquility but the tense neck tells her other wise. Hips sashaying, Natasha crosses the room. She slides her hand down his bicep, bending towards him, and places her hands on each side of his armchair.
Her red lips are just beside his ear. Her voice is low and sultry as she whispers to him, "I have an offer that you can't refuse." She feels his eyes fall to her cleavage.
His body shakes with expectancy when she ghosts her lips along the shell of his ear. "Are you interested?"
He's played this game before, and though he is keen, he refuses her the satisfaction of the upper hand. He feigns disinterest right up to the moment she pulls out the little device that Stark gave her, and as she palms it, her fingers flick the device on, emitting a low-level buzz.
"Just the buzzing? I could get that from a dime store," he sneers.
"Yes... for just the buzzing. But for the noise cancellation? I think not." Her lips twitches in anticipation as she forces herself to play the big show. "Ten-yard radius. No one will hear any screaming... or moaning."
He's turned on. She can almost see his fantasies of bending her over the table and fucking her senseless. He thinks the screaming and moaning will be hers.
Then she draws her dagger in a movement too fast for his eyes to follow, driving it deep through his right hand and into the wood below. He screams in agony, his body shuddering.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" He struggles to pull it out as she circles him. A smirk, coy and triumphant plasters over her face, growing larger with every whimper he makes.
"I told you I had an offer that you couldn't refuse." She trails her fingers down her other dagger, pulling out her favourite Steckin.
"I don't want it anymore!"
An unexpected laugh escapes her. The silly man actually thought she was here for the device. She'd assumed he was smarter. "Ignorant, stupid man. That isn't my offer." She says.
"My name is Natasha but you may recognize me easier by my codename. They call me the Black Widow." She plunges the other dagger into his left hand and burying it into the armchair, eliciting another broken cry from the man. "And I am her other soulmate," she says into his ear, sotto voce.
"Now," she sits on the coffee table across him. "Hands or feet?" She cocks her head at him.
Miles goes utterly still, the colour in his face bleaching out as he puts the pieces of the puzzle together. His chest stutters, desperately trying to squeeze air from the breath that he doesn't know he is holding. Eyes dilating in fear as she pulls out her kit, describing each piece of tool and its purpose in loving detail. Natasha lets the smile of satisfaction creep back across her face."My, my. We are going to have so much fun."
The first orange rays are beginning to touch the top of skyscrapers when Natasha slips into bed beside her soulmate, her brown hair strewn over the pillowcases just it was when Natasha left.
"I'll never let anyone hurt you again, Любовь моя." She presses a kiss to Skye's temple, brushing back the locks of soft hair. "Never again," she murmurs.
They are not just loose words. It is an assurance; a promise that Natasha will never break.
Любовь моя - my love.
Steckin - a type of Russian Gun
A/N: Thank you my marvellous Beta reader. Sadistic Nat! Not sure if this is what you guys had in mind when you voted for Nat x Skye... Let me know what you think!
Thank you for the reviews, follows & favourites!
P.S: Please tell me no one passed out from asphyxiation while reading Hunter's chapter. I was greatly worried by the number of pms/reviews on them commenting that they couldn't breathe..