Sample scene flavor one for marvel_universe

[cold_shoulder]

Since they had given him the assignment to train operatives, the Winter Soldier had seen quite a few go through the Red Room - the training for which happened far from only in any particular room. Most of them were fast and precise and eager to do things right. Some of them were smart and could be taught to be quick-thinking.

But nobody had been using their mind to the objective at hand until she had appeared, gun in one hand and grenade in the other. Brave, determined, beautiful. Not allowing herself to be distracted from the tasks she had, and at the same time with a hint of a sense of humor which meshed inexplicably well with him, somewhere below the level of his usual thought processes.

He's been watching, yes.

Natalia Romanova.

He'd been watching others try to emulate her, too, and had been greatly amused at girls imitating her motions without fully realizing the ideas behind them. And then feel disappointed at failing.

But mostly, he'd been watching her. He wasn't allowed access to much information about her; that was classified and not a part of his assignment. So he'd been piecing things together. Little things betrayed by her motions, but her reactions to knowledge betrayed by others.

And he'd been watching the beauty of her. The dancer training was clear in everything from her flexibility to the graceful efficiency of her motions. It stirred something in him. Something warm and unknown and strange, separate from the definite physical desire. The latter he could define and control. The former... it confused him. And drew him closer to her, until the evening when, all exercises complete, he knocked on her window.

Comments

[cold_shoulder]

"Good." The soft word slipped in his relief that he hadn't done something he shouldn't have. Barely more than a whisper. "They didn't give much time, but expecting me to be there and me gone? That would have been..."

Upsetting. Embarrassing, even though he doubted she would have made the kind of fool of herself that he might have if the roles were reversed.

"Didn't seem right. Enough people..."

He bit that off as the though shaped in his mind. Enough people are waiting for me in vain already. Who? Sometimes, he wanted to tear his hair out, his mind could be so... frustrating.

"I didn't want to... it's not necessary for you to be..." Worried? She wasn't going to be. Right? "... discomforted by my absence. There is pressure enough already."

When had he taken the two steps closer to her?

[natalia_romanova]

"I would have felt your absence." No rush this time in her words, but she was still not sure how appropriate any of this was. Still he had not censured her for her words, so she took that as implied approval.

Again he would halt his words, as if the thought was unfinished even to himself. He was never like this in training. Always cool and in command, but with her there seemed to be another side of him. It was a side that allowed him to be more the man and less the soldier. What did that make her then, she wondered.

When they began these secret meetings his first lesson had been to observe herself. To learn her reactions, and she had. She'd learned much and put it into her combat style, it had helped just as he said. But she'd also monitored herself in all aspects, including around him in these moments. She'd discovered interesting things. Her physical reaction was of no surprise, they had been advised of things like that.

Sexual response had to be recognized, so one was aware and able to deal with it. She knew she found him physically attractive so any arousal in that could be conditionally dealt with. But there was a different aspect between them, at least for her. She found herself wanting to be near him. Wanting to talk to him, spend time with him, to know him and about him. She hung on his every word in training, looking for the slightest glimpse of who he was beyond the Soldier. When they were together like this things became more clear as neither had to share attention with others.

She knew she was attracted to him, for so many reasons. She'd be a fool not to be, he was an ideal sort of soldier?..sort of man. But there was that deeper thing, that thing that nagged at her. It was what made her heart beat faster when he told her he was going away. It made her mind scramble for all she knew of Africa and the dangers he might face there. And it made her heart leap when he promised to come back, come back to her.

For as observant as she had been she hadn't notice how either of them seemed to gravitate toward the other. But she was markedly closer, enough that had she reached out she could rest a hand against his chest and feel his heart beat. Instead she remained obediently still, though the discomfort in her stance was obvious. She was not one to be still outside of necessity. She tipped back her head to look up to him, those brown eyes were so soft and warm, as though she could wrap herself up in the shade and never be cold again.

"Comrade," She hated addressing him like this, and it derailed her following thought. "What is your name? If you are to be taken away from me I would like at least that to have in your absence."

She was shocked by her own boldness, where had that come from? She never took such initiative, but it felt right, it felt good. Perhaps she was over stepping bounds but maybe it was time to. Between them she could and it would be alright, wouldn't it? He'd told her she needed to think and act on her own, and she had in a shockingly powerful way.

[cold_shoulder]

His hands reached and held both of hers between his palms before she had finished making herself stay still. Feel the absence. Yes, he was going to, too--

But before he could find the right words for that, she asked what she did, and his eyes flew open wide while his body turned rigid with the strain of conditioning combating overwritten knowledge.

Very, very carefully, he made sure he wasn't squeezing her hands too tight. He didn't let go, though, because the warmth of the touch was like an anchor. A very, very necessary anchor. "I... I don't..." The words came out labored, hard. "I don't know."

But even as he was saying it, a name floated up that didn't match any of the aliases that he had used. So he took a deep breath and tried it out. "James. I think my names is James."

Suddenly, his mind was quiet again. Calm.

[natalia_romanova]

There was a war inside him, she could feel it.

He took her hands and she shivered, not at the cold of the metal but at the thrill of the contact. She moved closer but it was that moment that he tensed. His posture changed, his breathing, the set of his jaw, the warm brown turning over cold and harsh, but it melted back again.

There was turmoil in him as he fought to give her what she asked, and in the end he did, strange as it was. James was no Russian name. Why would a Russian not have a proper family name? Why would he be something so obviously other cultural. She had a quick mind and those pieces were already falling into place. Perhaps this proud child of Mother Russian had no always been that.

"James." She played the name over her lips. It sounded strong even for the odd flavor of it. Strong and somehow poetic. Not edged like so many Russian names were, it had a gentle strength to it, she decided she quite liked it. "It suits you." And with that, she accepted it, accepted him, no questions asked.

[cold_shoulder]

While he was bubbling with questions. Somewhere. Why this name, who gave him this name, where did it come from and why now, was it in his files somewhere, and if not, why? Why didn't anyone ever call him that name?

But the pressure was gone. The necessity blistering his mind into remembrance was gone. Lanced? Relieved? Temporarily appeased? There was no context. Just the name, that one name.

The tension slowly left his body, only remained as tiny flames in his eyes that didn't move from her face as he nodded slightly. "Thank you." For the acceptance. For pushing him there, although she probably hadn't meant it. Not that way. Whatever the reason for his name not being used, it was probably good enough for their superiors, and she wouldn't have requested if it would go against orders.

But she had. And it was somehow easier with that.

He lowered his forehead, raising their hands until her knuckles touched his skin lightly, then eased them down again. "I should go."

Little of the commanding, certain trainer whose strikes came only this short of breaking bones (if they did come short), little of the chill, composed Winter Soldier in his voice. It was mere fact that he was too drained to oppose.

[natalia_romanova]

What happened inside his mind was lost to her, all she knew was that he seemed quieted after he'd given his name. His relaxation pleased her for reasons she was beginning to suspect had little to do with their mutual respect as warriors.

She nodded to his thanks, letting him know it wasn't required, he would always have her acceptance. He might always have to deal with her growing curiosity though, and the questions that came with it.

Her reaction to his touch was sudden and intense. Her cheeks flushed, breathing caught, her hand trembled just a bit in his. It was the first truly personal touch between them and she was utterly captivated. He let her go far too soon for her liking, but he was on a tight schedule.

"Yes." Of course, he had to go, it was his mission. She never would have begrudged him this before, but now she seemed to regret the need for him to leave. "For now."

But he'd be back, he promised. She stepped back and allowed him to make his exit, and for the first time she watched him depart from her window, she perched on the sill and watched until he vanished from sight. "James." His name was whispered to the night, it would not be used again until he returned.

[cold_shoulder]

The mission in Cairo was... complicated. It was a multiple-target elimination, and it took him a length of time of personal observation to make sure he could predict the presence of all of them in the same place sufficiently safely to project the kind of attack which could be accepted as accident.

And the fact that the constant warm weather, despite the season, caused problems with his mechanical arm didn't speed things up in the least. On-the-spot adjustments had to be made to prevent the infection in his shoulder which was beginning, which delayed the execution even longer.

He reported the problem with that without bringing up the discomfort that it was causing him. He wouldn't let the fever slow him down, even during the times when he had to do without the actual arm.

And though it all, the name haunted him. James. Why? Who had named him that, and why had nobody ever addressed him so since he woke up in the facility run by Comrade General Karpov. What was his life before that? Despite all the questions they had asked him about the time before that, nobody had briefed him on anything before that point, and there was enough for him to do and learn so that he hadn't asked. But now, with one single question, his pupil had... The Red Room trainee had brought something up from the darkness that lurked there. Not an illumination at all, because that was not a name that fit with Division X or with who he was.

Nonetheless, the name was there, and it fit within him. And he didn't know what to do with that.

Not with I will miss you, either. He maybe should have berated her for that. But he hadn't, and he hadn't wanted to, either. Some awareness suggested that the warmth that came up with remembering those words meant something, should mean something, but he suppressed that. Training together was not a place to form anything meaningful. They were both assets, and they would be located wherever they would be more beneficial for the improvement of the cause of the Soviet Union. Wanting anything else was not permitted, and he wasn't going to permit it to himself.

Still, when he returned to the location of training and was debriefed, he never mentioned any of it. There had been chances to report before, and there was definitely a chance to do so now. But he didn't. Not any of it. Not the additional training he was giving to Natalia, not the name. He reported in full about the mission, in as much detail as was requested of him.

The fact that he had not slept since before the final mission run, some forty hours ago, had nothing to do with the decision to say nothing. It just didn't seem to matter.

The debriefing took hours.

By the time he was released to return to his quarters, it was nearly three in the morning. The instructions were to report for training duty as normal the next day, not surprising.

He did return to his room, dropping the scant baggage he had taken and the even fewer items he had picked up on the way. And then he made sure nobody was watching... and made his way to the familiar window again.

Considering the hour, he only called her name once; there was no response. The window was closed, but not locked, even in the January weather. It was closed tight enough to keep the weather out. But not him.

He only let himself in to make sure she was there and he wasn't going to make a mess of things... somehow. But the familiar, flame-colored locks were spread on the pillow, and her face was relaxed, easy in repose. Way easier than he had seen it before, though there were times during their talks when her attention was completely captured--

He shook his head, then only made a few motion, leaving a note on a scrap of paper on the inside of the sill. Вернулся. 'I have returned.' She would understand, or not.

And he left, closing the window tight behind himself. He had a few hours left in which he could sleep, he'd better make use of them.

[cold_shoulder]

And he returns.

[natalia_romanova]

She barely stirred at his pre-dawn visitation, but he moved so silently it should have been expected. As yet she hadn’t been trained in waking with the slightest disturbance, she had some semblance of innocence left to her. It showed when she slept like this. Her youth, her untainted spirit. This was not a killer, not yet. An untested and beautiful weapon, but not yet lethal. She would have wanted to be awake though, she would have wanted to see him, but it was for the best for both of them that she slept on while he watched her and left his notice of return.



She woke early, eyes snapping open even before the alarm sounded. She stretched and eased from the bed, wide awake in moments. Just as she’d been trained, she was alert and taking in her surroundings, something was out of place. Eyes caught sight of the paper on the sill and it took less than a heartbeat to know who would have left it.

Natalia dashed for the note and read it’s single word. It said so much, her mentor had returned as promised. The weeks of his absence were over, a smile that had no right to be, blossomed across her lips. She ran through her morning rituals faster than she ever had and arrived early to training. She did not see him however. James..no Winter Soldier, she must only think of him by his given name when they were alone, something in her warned of being too casual, had not looked on this morning.



Still she excelled, Natalia ran her exercises with a grace and exuberance that showed every inch of her nerve and natural physicality. She shone like a star because she had something worth preforming for. Her observers praised her, the General took notice personally and Natalia, already earmarked for larger things, was catching all the wrong attention. Oblivious to the notes being made of her she glowed, even daring to best the field trainer in her exercise by downing the man with a kick hard enough to double him, disarm him and leave hims sprawled and panting for breath. She stood a bit proud over the mock setting of a generic town and her fallen foes, yes, the Black Widow had earned her title today.


Still through it at she looked for him, showed off her skills and what she'd learned for him and when she was praised, like a good soldier she demurred it to the greatness of her teachers, her program and of course her country. By the end of the day Natalia's name was on the lips of many, but she only cared for one. She was sent out to meet important but nameless figures within Red Room, those whose influence reached high in the government but whose identities were to remain unconnected for political reasons. Here she was introduced to a tall, broad shouldered man. He seemed ill suited for a pilot, as she was told he was, due to his size. He was introduced as Alexi Shostakov, code Named Red Guardian, a pride of Red Room and unquestioned success. There was more to him than met the eye, Winter Soldier's training had become her own continuous thoughts, she watched him, studied him and how others acted around him.


She was expected to be impressed by the man, so she played her part. When all she wanted was to return to her room, the group bade her and Alexi stay on for dinner and drinks. She could not refuse and forced a smile and the appearance of interest at their tedious discussions. Inside she wanted to scream, tear her red hair from her head, but outwardly she projected the calm soft smile they expected to see. They could not know how she sized each of them up, running through her mind scenarios on how she could dispatch the room and how quickly with dinner utensils. These thoughts would condemn her to exile or more likely death were they known, but no one knew. No one but her. It was late, past midnight before she was excused, having to accept their hospitality as long as it was offered, but when it was appropriate she left them.


Keeping her gait to a smooth walk was torture. Once her eyes even veered to where she knew his room was. But to go there would be too bold, too risky. He was a valuable asset, she was just starting her career. He had just returned from a mission and who knew how long he would be under observation. She could ill afford to let her eagerness get either of them in trouble now. She could almost hear him in her head, treat it like a training exercise. She did, she pushed her feelings down until she had control over herself. She walked calmly to her quarters, showered and sat on her bed wrapped in a towel while she brushed her damp hair over one shoulder. Focus, manage your heart rate, keep your breathing even, do not betray the slightest excitement. She obeyed the voice, the echo of him that had kept her company while he was away, that part of him she'd kept hidden in her hear-- mind.


She had done well tonight, more so than those who praised her could ever know. She had surpassed all their expectations and hidden something so profound that she had been fundamentally changed by it. Natalia understood herself better now, she understood her reactions to the man she called James. She studied and worked it out over long hours. The evidence was so obvious as to be unmistakable and despite all common sense, warnings or mandates against it, she was in love.

[cold_shoulder]

It was a long day, the fatigue from the previous two trying to catch up.

The Winter Soldier kept on moving. Fatigue was irrelevant. He was the Winter Soldier, and as a good soldier would do what he had to. And he was given plenty to do.

He noticed that something was missing from his full schedule by midmorning anyway. Someone. And since he knew he had given no sign to anyone that there might be a connection between them - he had been very, very careful - there was something else going on.

By noon, he was hearing about the kind of glorious day she was having. Which was a relief - she hadn't been sent off to a mission yet. He finished his meal early and snuck off, yes, even here, to watch her from the shadows, and the glow from her ... the way she moved. It set her apart from anyone else he had seen all day. Their superiors would be blind to not see it, and they didn't seem to be blind.

And then mid-afternoon he was pulled out of training to be rapidly briefed on an extra assignment he was given for the rest of the day - there would be certain guests visiting, and he was supposed to shadow them, primarily for security (he wondered why the safety of special guests would be in danger here, on the premises, but didn't question it by word or look), but also to make sure that certain of them didn't encounter each other. If by some chance that was likely to happen, he was to run interference; otherwise, he was to remain invisible.

This all, he could do. He read through the information he was given, but it wasn't until he actually saw Comrade Red Guardian in motion that something clicked in his mind, and he knew that coming up against him would be to great peril to--

-- to the program.

But they were both working for the same cause, so scoping him as an enemy was unnecessary.

It was something he had to remind himself of multiple times though the evening. As he almost could make out the look in her eyes, but he was too distant for that. He could only guess from her face carved from porcelain, from her delicate smile. Almost brittle.

Almost, but far from it. Even though she was untried, he knew that much. Brittle and dainty were parts of her mask, but not of who she was.

And he had to put the image of her dancing out of the room as he shadowed the guests out of the premises. Then reported and was dismissed from duty. Then returned to his room.

And then stood completely still in the middle of it, trying to think of what to do next. The reasonable part of his mind, the trained part of his mind, said that he needed to rest. But it was tired. He'd pushed himself far enough for some of the control that the reasonable part of him exercised to be fraying at the edges.

A minute later, he was up on the roofs, making his way to the familiar window.

It was still lit up when he arrived, and he peered in very carefully, to make sure she was alone. Before he'd left, he wouldn't have questioned it, he knew the rhythm of the Room and how to tread it unnoticed. Now... things were going that he reasoned out but knew not the details of. So he was careful.

Or was until he saw her.

The sight took his breath away, and he turned fully as if falling into the light from the room would get him closer, his right palm splaying against the chill glass of the window. That was...

What seeing her in something as simple as a towel wrap shouldn't have shaken him this deeply. He'd seen her in barely more, with the nightgowns she wore. And yet the graceful curve of her shoulders, the line of her neck as she turned her head...

He breathed her name voicelessly, before knocking slightly on the frame of the window, if that was even necessary to alert her to his presence by now.

[natalia_romanova]

She'd had a glorious day. The facility was her's in a manner of speaking, she'd been the talk of those who would decide her future fate and there was some pride to be had in that. The flattering attention from the Red Guardian were also something to spark a bit of reaction.

She hadn't blushed exactly but she had wondered if his polite overtures were expected by conventions of society of if he had chosen to pay such special attention to her. Either way it had been the more pleasant aspect of the day, leaving however had been far more exciting.

She'd had time to contemplate all of this on her walk home and indeed her shower. She felt..more formidable, more her own today than she had ever. She was in control..no, Red Room was her controller, but why then did she feel as though she'd achieved that level of freedom? Natalia had reached the point where she was beginning to see what she could do above and beyond the plans of those around her. She had found her level of self containment.

She was pleased with herself. Pride, it was sinful and pride in herself more than pride in her program was against all rules. Still it was there, she could be better than any of them, she knew it now. She still had much to learn but there it was, in the back of her mind. Natalia knew she was different.

The idea had her smiling as she brushed the long red hair over her shoulder, she suddenly felt a sensation of not being alone. She sat straighter and looked to the window. The smile which had been sly the moment before blossomed fully and wide. She rushed to the window and pulled it inward, her arm taking his to help him inside.

"James!" His name left her lips without hesitation, it was a welcome, a greeting, an invitation all in the soft breathy word. Once he was inside her arm did not leave his, in fact an impulse she hadn't had since childhood struck her. She had not had family, nor wanted for any once Red room had taken her in as it's own. But now she felt the need to feel the closeness. Arms folded around him in a foreign movement, her damp locks rested against his chest as she hugged him.

[cold_shoulder]

His breath whooshed out of his lungs, out of his whole body, with the strength and ache which few adversaries could give him in a fight. Except this wasn't a fight, not by a long stretch. It was something he wanted to be doing, his body reacting before his mind caught up, arms wrapping around her and pressing her close, right arm steady, left arm making sure he wasn't hurting her. His face started leaning into the top of her wet hair, lips almost brushing the familiar strands even as the fingers of one hand lightly tangled into them.

And then his mind raced.

His head jerked up, even though he neither tensed nor pushed her away. He didn't want to push her away; he didn't want to let her go. Not to dinners with other 'graduates' of the division X and related programs, not to the cold outside, not to the future he knew they were both going to be step into anyway, a future where human lives were infinitely cheaper than causes, and theirs was the one true one.

"Natalia," he rasped...

... and then stopped himself. Because trying to turn away from that future, even worse, trying to turn her away, would likely lead to the termination of them both. Or... worse, though a sudden headache pressed his temples in as he tried to think about that.

No. He couldn't hold her in. And that knowledge clenched his chest and twisted, and twisted more.

"There is no-one as beautiful and amazing as you." It wasn't quite what he'd meant to say - he wanted to praise her for her accomplishments in his absence, for her progress, for the advancement she'd had today. But it came out true enough.

Her hair was as soft and silken, even still wet, as he ever could have imagined.

[natalia_romanova]

His arms felt strong and steady around her, one flesh and blood, one artistry of metal and gears. It felt right to be in his arms, it felt safe, not that she had much to fear here, but there was something deeper to it. Her eyes had closed when she felt him hold her, at the shift in him they opened. She didn't move but she felt the change in his breathing, his heart rate.

At their first contact his heart had raced, as had her own, but it changed shortly after. His breathing caught for just a moment, his movement frozen as though he debated the best course of action. Of course he did. She'd taken liberties in the contact, vast liberties that might be insulting to him or put him in a position to correct her behavior.

The moment passed and his hold warmed again, his fingers sank into the mass of scarlet stands and he held her tightly to him. He spoke finally and it was her name. She'd heard it on the lips of many all day but it never sounded as sweet or welcomed as it did from him. She smiled and squeezed a bit tighter in her hold hearing it.

It was distraction by that emotion that caused her to miss the following reaction form him. She was too caught up in this budding feeling to be fully aware of the nuances of his reaction. The change in grip, and position went without notice for the moment.

Her pleasure over hearing him call her name was nothing compared to the feeling of elation over his praise. Now she did move, and looked up to him with eyes that shined. She had no words, what could she say to that? She knew the expected answers when she was praised in training but this was far different. She looked up into his warm brown eyes, handsome strong face, and was silent for a long moment before she spoke.

"We should move away from the window." It was not the romantic answer, but it was practical. They stood in front of a window with her room light on. Natalia drew him deeper in the room, closed the window and shut of the light. The moon left plenty of light for them to see by and kept the activities more discretely hidden from outside.

"You must tell me about your time away." She took his hand and drew him over to sit by her on her bed. But once seated she didn't release his hand. Rather her fingers traced softly over the skin. Just being around him made her heart race and her body warm. Physical reactions of attraction, but that would hardly explain her constant thoughts of him, nor her desire to make him proud. "I worked hard to make you proud of me. Everyone has said I am doing very well." Understatement, but his opinion was the only one that truly mattered. Her fingers continued moving over the back of his captured hand.

[cold_shoulder]

"Yes," he murmured, following her lead further in, letting her move, helping by staying out of the line of sight - he had made sure he wasn't followed or watched, but things didn't stay the same, especially not in a place that trained people into spies and secret operatives. By the time she turned her attention to him again, he had sat, on the edge of the bed this time.

And his eyes were just a little wide, just a little wild, possibly half-hidden by the moonlight's shadows.

He looked up as she spoke again, then his mouth actually curled up slightly. "You have done well. Most of them don't understand, even while they see your results. But no, you have done better than that, Natalia. You've learned to learn the essence of what is taught and use that as it's supposed to be used, rather than what is being shown to you. That is yours, and your alone. And I am proud." Soft, soft voice. Eyes not straying from her, from the way moonlight caressed her still-bare shoulders, the way he wanted his fingers to...

His attention snapped back with an effort. "Cairo was stifling. There was difficulty with..." With his left arm. Small headshake. "I completed the assignment, but it took slightly longer than it should have."

[natalia_romanova]

She breathed a soft not quite word as he spoke of being proud of her and what she’d done. She had begun to see what set her apart from the others and concentrated on it more and more. There was no limit to what she was capable of with careful thought and preparation. He had shown her this, he had made her see that she was more than simply a tool to be honed and used as the program desired. She was still a product of Red Room and served proudly, but she was far from the trained animal the others seemed to be.

As he spoke her eyes never left him, he looked tired but paradoxically alert. As if he’d pushed past the exhaustion and found clarity in the lack of rest. He looked powerful, and unusually unfettered by his rigid composure. It showed in his voice, his poster, the reaction of him to her touch. It showed in the way his gaze moved over her body and gave her a delicious shiver of excitement.

She had been looked at before, appraised, had her body critiqued in every manner possible, but to feel his gaze on her was something entirely new. She found she liked it.

Then he spoke of Cairo, and she frowned. “You are not telling me everything.” His left eye squinted slightly, his posture and breathing had changed. She could tell when he was being truthful, lying or as now, withholding truth. “You’ve taught me too well James, I am beginning to read you easily.” She smiled wryly, proud to have put her lessons to practical use.

[cold_shoulder]

"I'm not." And for a moment, his eyes were tired. "There are things about missions... the missions we go to, which you don't want to know beforehand. Or it would impair your ability to act. They'll chase away your focus during training, leech away sleep, and question things." He shook his head. "Don't ask me to try to give you that before it's time, Natalia." And his voice went soft, nearly helpless. "Please."

Let yourself keep your innocence that way a little loner. Don't let me steal that from you when they aren't making you surrender it yet.

WHY were the thoughts like that settling in his mind? He knew the cause he was fighting for, the cause that was just, real, fair. And those lives he had taken were saving the lives of many more.

Weren't they?

[natalia_romanova]

He was…protecting her. Had she not already felt a deep attraction to him she would have with that alone. The one man who had seen how capable she was, who above all knew her strengths, wanted to spare her something of emotional pain. It was a connection she hadn’t known or dared assume he had for her, but that bit of restraint on his part illustrated it clearly. He cared for her, beyond a pupil, beyond an agent with promise, he cared for her comfort and peace.

She sighed again and her fingers moved quickly, those fluid digits grazed his chest as they moved up to caress his cheek. Just a moment of touch before they slid back and gently held his jaw. Strength enough to hold him, gentle enough to release should he pull back, but her intention was obvious.

Natasha leaned in, her thigh brushing his, her warmth radiating from her as her lips gently captured his. A first kiss, slightly awkward, highly anticipated, and beyond her expectations.

[cold_shoulder]

His eyes shot back up to hers as soon as her caress warmed through the skin underneath shirt; when her fingers touched and held his face, they widened.

And then she kissed him. And it stunned the thoughts out of his mind... and, at the same time, surprised him not at all... as a fact. But the sweetness that spread from her lips, soothing away tension and exhaustion and rigid control which had held for years, not knowing that there was an option... all of that swept through his body and mind with a force he couldn't have suspected can result from this soft a touch.

Instead of freezing, or pushing her away, his arm reached to encircle her shoulder, not quite pressing her closer but still holding them nearer.

We shouldn't, he probably ought to say. This isn't how things are, maybe.

Except here and now, he didn't care about the first, and the second...

It wasn't true.

Not that what they have discussed all the times before had been a lie, and she could see that it wasn't herself. But to deny that this was true, too...

He'd already concealed something important from her tonight. Lying on top of that - and for what? So he could slip away, hide behind obligations and duties and let something good and real go?

No.

He leaned nearer in turn, and kissed back. Not deep or forceful, but less hesitant than she had.

Doing so... felt right and wrong and right again anyway. Right because he wanted and she wanted. Wrong, because he couldn't remember doing this, not without pushing against walls he couldn't penetrate. Right, because... because...

Words didn't fit. Her lips did.

[natalia_romanova]

They probably shouldn't be doing this, she herself had guided them away from the window out of fear of discovery. Nothing had been spoken about their meetings but she'd realized they were out of the norm. What did that makes them then?

Natalia was afraid for a moment that he would pull away, the fear was dispelled once his arms wrapped around her. He drew her closer and she leaned in her hands slid to his shoulders and one wandered up to run fingers through his hair.

Though the actual mechanics of kissing were new to her she'd learned enough to know the generalities. Like all her training she took what she knew and added to it with creativity and passion. Natalia moved closer, her body pressing to his.

A soft sound escaped her lips, a sigh, his name....unknown but it signified pleasure on her part and she was not releasing him.

[cold_shoulder]

He remembered-didn't remember-just acted. It all wrapped up in a single uncertainty in his mind, and that drew him back. Not any doubt or reason. The confusion in his own head was getting too ... too loud to properly be here. And being distracted during a kiss - that just didn't feel right. (Just how wrong in the head was he? The thought flitted through his mind and was gone.)

But he didn't pull back far.

Instead, his fingers - of the right hand - crossed the short distance to her face, and he ran his thumb over the arch of her cheek, then down the curve of it. Then ever so lightly along her lower lip.

So beautiful. So radiant. It was almost like a light radiating from the bright green eyes. Light that-- light that he wanted to protect at any cost, and yet he knew it would dim. It was what their place here--

His breath caught slightly, though he ... still didn't let go. He merely suddenly realize just how much of a danger he'd put them in.

(But if he hadn't come to her in the first place, wouldn't she have been in more danger for lack of proper training?)

(But if he hadn't come, what would they be?)

But he had come. And kept coming, and he was here, and-- He sighed softly, and his voice was quiet and gentle. "This - this can turn very dangerous." his fingers combed some of the wet, silken strands away from her face. "You don't have to put yourself to the risk... anymore." It was necessary to say it. Even if he wasn't sure if she would still know just how perilous it was.

[natalia_romanova]

The kiss was everything her mind could have conceived. It stole her breath and made her heart race. The kiss drove away her thoughts for a seductive fog of emotion over reason. The kiss was also over too quickly.

Natalia leaned in the slightest bit as he pulled back, trying to keep that contact until his intent became obvious. Her eyes opened and fixed on him, intense and wide, clear and shining for him.

The passing touch of his thumb left her nerves dancing in its wake, as though the contact itself painted her with feeling. She searched his eyes as he chose his words so carefully. He didn't want to continue to see her? Confusion furrowed her brow as she tried to process this.

Was he displeased with her? Had she not preformed to his standards? Was it that she was unskilled in this new physical aspect they'd added to their interaction to their..relationship. Whatever his reason he stated the danger and gave her a chance to step aside.

"I.. don't want this to stop. We can be careful, I will be the best student and work hard. You can trust in me, I will not fail you, James." Her eyes pleased with him, the words she didn't know how to speak yet. Don't take this away from me, don't take yourself from me.

[cold_shoulder]

"You are the best student I have. Above and beyond anyone else." His words were certain, but way too quiet and close to be firm.

Another moment of hesitation, but the frightened look in her eyes was... difficult to resist. (And a small part of his mind filed that knowledge away as something they may work on later, another weapon in her arsenal.) But then he shifted, holding her to him even closer, kissing her again. Longer and just a bit deeper, because there was only so much he could formulate, not right now.

Eventually, they broke off, though he didn't quite pull back, not this time. Instead, he leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and trying to ignore that the towel had shifted with how close they were, with the kisses, the motions...

Instead, he focused on the scent of her, still warm from the shower which she seemed to have come out of an eternity ago, and so soft. "We will need to think through this very well, Natalia. We don't belong to ourselves, here." But... "I won't fail you, either."

Could he afford his folly to take away her future, the bright and amazing future that he couldn't not see?

It wasn't his folly alone, it was theirs (but she was barely more than a child...) and... and maybe they could be careful. Maybe they could ... could somehow share this warmth. Truly share it.

Because it was intoxicating, holding her this close and kissing her and talking with her. Like nothing he could readily remember - not waking up from stasis, not praise for well accomplished mission, nor even pride in the successes of those he trained. Nothing. And it also felt right in ways he couldn't justify. How could trying to take for himself be right?

He didn't have answers. Just more and more questions, and tiredness that he could feel way too acutely beneath the touch of her soft skin.

[natalia_romanova]

He praised her again and she smiled, it was not the tone he used in training sessions. Softer, warmer, a voice meant only for her.

Then another kiss, he drew her close and she pressed against him. The contact made thinking clearly impossible. Her thoughts could not be bothered with the trifles or logic, not while he was there with her like this.

He broke their kiss bur remained close, in contact with her. His hand pressed to her side, holding her to him. "We belong to the program." She agreed, unable to nod without moving from him. She knew the reality of their positions, even if her feelings on the matter had changed.

Whatever the risk involved she was as willing to take it as he, and she slid her arms around him to let him know that. Her lips found his again, more bold than before. She became the aggressive one, whispering his name between movements of her lips.

She knew the program dictated who they belonged to, but she knew her heart was already claimed.

[cold_shoulder]

He nodded slightly. "We belong to the Soviet Union. To the people who need protection against threats they don't know. The program... the people who run Division X and the Red Room, they know where we'll be needed." His lips pursed slightly. She knew this, they both did. And he took a breath to go on, or to apologize for telling her things she knew, or-- something, but then her lips had covered his, and coherent thoughts flew out of his head. There was just the rhythm of her kiss, all-encompassing as the sea...

His hand cupped the back of her head, holding her close, fingers digging into the wet strands... and he could feel that touch, feel every point of contact between them and the soft friction of the small motions. Head swimming, and yet his body knew exactly what to do - his hands, his arms, even the unreal one; his mouth and lips, the small sound in the back of his throat.

And, a small eternity later when his eyes met hers again, the quiet "yes" which he wasn't even certain which language he uttered in. It didn't matter. She did.

He was leaning in for another kiss when a small noise outside her window made him still, completely, even his breath held in, suddenly in full alertness. After an excruciating moment of worry - for her - his mind kicked in and suggested that it might be a late-night practice drill that he'd seen scheduled for some of the trainees.

Still, his voice was barely more than a loud breath when he explained, "practice."

[natalia_romanova]

Yes, they both knew what was expected of them. To say demanded would have implied that they felt there was an option to it. Which neither did, you are a child of the great and proud Soviet Union, and as such owe her your life's breath and all that comes with it. National pride, pride in their organization and all it could do to ensure the safety and security of their great nation. They were the tools wielded by Red Room, and they were thankful to serve.

But it was not her country nor her program that Natalia was focused on now. It was a far more real and substantial presence. His strong arms around her, his lips seeming to know precisely how to kiss her and she learned from them in kind. She was lost to the bliss of such physical contact and would have had it go on forever but for the sound they both heard.

Her fingers tightened in their grip on him. Her own body frozen in perfect silence until the noise was identified, cataloged for threat and began to pass on. Only after he spoke again, clarifying as if it was necessary, oh you had trained her well James, did she speak again. "You cannot leave now, but you will need to soon." She knew it was true, and she would have it another way if possible. But he needed his rest, he needed to be safe. If not he could not come back to her.

"But you will be back." This time it was not a question to him, not as before when he left for his mission. This time it was a statement of fact. He would be back because now a line had been crossed and they could not undo it.

Nor did she want to. As if she needed to make that point clear she pulled him hard against her for a kiss that was sparked by passion and a hint of desperation. If he said no, if he refused..if he lost interest... She would do everything in her power to encourage him to come back to her. Strength and passion made powerful weapons, even if they had not yet been on her list of training, she employed them with a natural skill and beguiled him. Seduced him to the degree that her relative innocence would allow.

He would come back.