Despite her resolve to prevent them from getting too… entangled. She ended up sleeping with him again that night, and then the next. They never failed to have an incredible marathon session that left her sexually satisfied on a level she hadn't imagined before this week. His stamina was incredible, only matched by his eagerness to please her. He'd been inexperienced at first, but he was a quick study and it showed. She'd never gotten so much oral in her life, it was decadent. She could just lay back and let him draw orgasm after orgasm from her. The only thing stopping her was her sense of fair play. His attentiveness made her want to return the favor, show him everything she had to offer.
She'd never been so eager to give a man a blowjob, never imagined how excited she'd be to kneel between Harry's legs and take his magnificent tool into her mouth. The way he tasted, how he throbbed in her mouth, his moans and the look of rapture on his face, it had all become delicious to her. By the time he was coming, she'd be swollen, dripping, and aching to have him inside her. Thankfully, his refractory period was astonishingly short. He could keep going for hours, and she would gladly take everything he had to give her.
She'd found herself wistfully hoping that he'd end up being recruited into Shield, so that she might see more of him. It was a dangerous line of thinking, she needed to maintain some objectivity, and angling to get her mark into the organization for a booty call was most certainly over the line.
She picked up a few scraps from him. She asked about the portraits he'd drawn and had gotten names and a fond tribute for each of them-'Hermione Granger, she was the smartest person I've ever known.' He'd exclusively used the past tense for all of them.
None of the names he'd given her existed. It was possible that he'd given her fake names for them, but she didn't think so. He'd felt so genuine, she was very good at detecting deception, and she could tell he was hiding a lot from her, but she was convinced that he wasn't bullshitting her there.
He'd also told a few stories of his childhood as pillow talk, but she could tell that they were highly edited, likely to remove any sort of paranormal activity. He'd given a bland explanation of his book collection- he was 'interested' in history and mythology, was all. Right.
She met him at the bar on the fourth night, hoping to take it a little slower, perhaps learn a little more from him before she had to report her limited progress in the morning. Given his bookshelf, she had an idea of what would get him to open up a little. "You know, I'd always figured that there was more truth to those myths than is let on. I mean, everyone knows Hydra was up to its knees in that stuff, even if the governments won't admit it."
That had gotten her a wide-eyed look from Harry, who'd been clearly cautious to bring up anything 'conspiratorial', but her making the first step was the encouragement he needed. Hook, line, sinker. She was pleased to see that he never brought up Shield- which, while not secret was purportedly a minor, bureaucratic organization (the ridiculously long official name was chosen, in part, to feed into this façade). But he had gleaned more from Hydra than was official knowledge- she guessed from internet forums. The mythologies, he didn't have anything solid on- other than to note that Hydra had put a lot of credence into the Norse mythos.
Given that Thor had just fought an Asgardian death machine one state over, Nat was willing to count it as a hit. That fact was something of a comfort to her, as it made some of her speculations about Harry seem downright tame. She got the sense that it had helped sell her… aggressive approach with seducing him. Suddenly, recruiting enhanced individuals had become a much higher priority. Coulson's team had been briefed about Harry's existence and the likelihood that he could be recruited, and was standing by in New Mexico.
While she didn't learn anything she didn't already know, the conversation seemed to have eased the tension from Harry. This was exactly what she wanted- if he knew she was open-minded about that sort of thing, he'd be more likely to share more with her. But as was becoming a pattern with them, things devolved more quickly than she anticipated. They always found a way to end up in each other's arms. They left the bar all over each other, and with every intention of beginning another night of lovemaking.
However, as they exited the bar, her senses went on edge. A whir of motion in the corner of her eye, the sound of metal on metal- Natasha dove, tackling Harry and taking them both behind a car a split second before a single bullet whizzed behind them, precisely where Harry had been a moment before. A figure in shadow stepped into the light- Natasha's blood ran cold.
A legend, a myth, come to life. One she had met before. She'd spent over a year trying to track him down, but he'd come to her once again.
The Winter Soldier.
Even in the darkness, it was unmistakable. The metallic arm, the black mask and streamlined, protective goggles- she'd know him in an instant. Dread was followed swiftly by fiery determination. The last time she'd met him, he'd killed the asset she'd been escorting, shooting straight through her body to land a perfect kill shot on him. She wasn't going to fail again. She couldn't.
She pressed a combination on her phone, one that would send a distress signal out to Shield, and hoped to god help was close. The Winter Soldier approached them swiftly- needing a new vantage point to target them. Natasha whipped out her pistol and fired several quick successive shots, but he deflected them with his metallic arm. It would be very hard to injure him with conventional guns, between the body armor, facemask, and goggles, he was almost completely protected. She needed a different strategy.
"Run!" She barked, urging Harry backward. They both dashed away, ducking between cars. The assasin pursued them, taking potshots with his pistol at the gaps between cars. Natasha wasn't going to make it so simple for him, however. She had a few tricks up her sleeve.
Her handbag seemed innocuous, but she had come loaded for bear. She flung a smoke grenade behind them, and shooed Harry onward while she ducked into an alley. She doubted just how well this ambush would turn out for her, but maybe it would give Harry time to get away.
Her little trap only half worked. She was able to get the jump on him for a fraction of a second, but no sooner had she leapt onto his shoulders intent on tasering him into submission had he thrown her off- she was lucky to have been able to land gracefully- sliding backwards from him to the center of the street.
What neither of them had anticipated was that Harry most certainly would not run away. Appearing suddenly from the smoke he lunged at their attacker. Despite the surprise, he quickly levelled his pistol at Harry had time to fire two shots. They lodged in his chest, but Harry, somehow, just kept coming, holding an outstretched hand just inches from his face and bellowing "LUMOS!"
If Natasha was blinded by the brilliant flash of light, then she couldn't imagine what it would be like from inches away, even with the goggles protecting his eyes. The winter soldier staggered back, but Harry's follow through was terrible- his punch deflected by a distracted backhand that sent Harry sprawling to the ground. It was all on her. She charged forward, firing wildly with her pistol, the bullets deflected of his arm, with one lodging in his mask, but not seeming to hurt him. She tossed the pistol aside and struck at him with her tasers, but met only metal. He pinned her and wrenched her arm- she screamed. With his iron grip on her back, he slammed her to the ground, and something cracked, possibly a rib. His pistol was now pointed at her- this was how she would die.
"NOOO!" Harry screamed, and their assailant was flung backwards, clipping on a car and flipping through the air into the brickwork across the street. It only took a moment for Natasha to recalibrate, they needed to leave- now.
She took Harry's outstretch hand and let him pull her up, before quickly taking charge, dragging him in as close to a dead run as either of them could manage, to her car parked around the corner. Neither of them said anything- he wordlessly dove into the passengers seat. She didn't wait for him to buckle up or even close the door to take off, tires squealing. She didn't follow any traffic laws, doubling the speed limit and swerving past cars and running lights when she could manage it. If she got pulled over- she'd just flash her Shield ID and show them the bleeding man in her passenger seat.
Harry, for his part, didn't comment on her reckless driving. In fact, he'd handled himself admirably in the fight- aside from that terribly executed punch. He'd been in battle before, though evidently not in hand-to-hand combat.
Her phone rang. She didn't hesitate to answer despite the level of danger and Harry's skeptical look. "Romanoff, we just picked up your distress signal." Hill said.
"Shit. Just now?" Natasha cursed "They were blocking me. We need immediate evac!"
"What happened?"
"The asset was almost assassinated. It was the Winter Soldier." From anyone else, that statement would have been met with rolled eyes, but she was the best.
"Damn, are you clear?"
"I don't know. I need backup, and an evac." She repeated. She'd been driving as fast as she could for five minutes, but her eyes were darting around every intersection, just waiting for him to be standing there, blocking their path.
"Agents are inbound. Coulson's team. Stay safe." Hill assured her.
The call ended, and Natasha put the phone down with some relief. They were one step closer to safety. She glanced to Harry, and her spirits dipped. He was looking at her with an unreadable expression. He was guarded, evaluating her, clearly trying to judge just how thoroughly he'd been lied to. But he didn't bring it up- now clearly wasn't the time.
-----
For Harry, the crash finally came when the team of agents linked up with him. He'd been running on pure instinct and adrenaline for that fight, and the adrenaline had sustained him through their getaway- even as a million questions whirled in his head. It was only after the immediate danger was gone, when they were on a plane with a half dozen agents, that the emotions hit him.
'Nat' was an agent. Probably assigned to investigate or protect him. She wasn't some secretary looking for a hookup on a business trip. She hadn't seen something in him, something special that made her want to start a conversation with a stranger in a bar, she'd just been fishing for information.
He'd been played.
Granted, she may have just saved his life. That certainly made the Molotov cocktail of emotions churning in him all the more complicated. Did lying to him and using him make up for by saving his life?
He couldn't even begin to answer.
It hurt all the more because he'd been sure that he'd felt a real connection- the first genuine connection he'd had with anyone since he'd died in that clearing two years ago. He knew that she was only there for a few weeks at most, but he'd gotten the sense, that if the stars had aligned…
It was pointless to think about now. He was naïve. It had all been a lie.
"Mr. Potter." An agent introduced herself "Doctor Simmons. Allow me to take a look at you." It wasn't exactly a request. She spoke with a clipped British accent, with a strictly professional demeanor.
His shirt was ruined anyway- torn and caked with blood, and the skin beneath it wasn't much prettier. To her credit, Simmons didn't react aversely. "I'm surprised you're even up, with these wounds."
There was no point in denying that he was magic, was there? That was why they'd found him. Probably why the assassin was there, too. "I'm more durable than most people." He said. Quidditch players were pelted by high-speed bludgers and fell from great heights as a matter of course. It wasn't like he was immune, but they weren't as serious for him as they would for a muggle.
"Interesting." The doctor said, and Harry was suddenly reminded of Hermione. He wondered if this Doctor would soon be delving through articles about accelerated healing.
No doubt there were many people in the government who would find him very interesting. It was terrifying. He imagined it'd be like being kept as a pet of the Department of Mysteries, everyone would be out to wring whatever they could from him. He couldn't trust any of them to look out for him, not even Nat. Especially not Nat.
The bullets were removed, antibiotic, painkiller, and gauze was applied, and there was nothing else to be done for it until they reached a proper medical center.
The doctor then turned her attention to Natasha, who was sporting her own set of injuries. Her arm and ribs- apparently. He felt a little bad for some of his internal bile- she'd gotten hurt saving his arse, but still. She'd hurt him. She could have just come up to him and told him the score. What was he going to do? Fight her? Run? He wasn't an idiot.
But she didn't know that. He could almost imagine Hermione argue. Yes, he could see why it would make sense to get the judge of him first, but that didn't mean she had to sleep with him and lead him on. That was just… mean.
"No sign of this 'Winter Soldier', sir." Another agent said, presumably to the man in charge "Satellite, cameras, all picked up nothing. Are we sure he's real?"
Natasha tensed and glared at the agent, who blinked, his tough act faltering "I know what I saw, Agent…"
"Ward, we have two eyewitnesses, we can't say much about the assassin or his capabilities, but its safe to say that he's real." The 'man in charge' interrupted "Given that Romanov's distress signal was jammed, it's likely that whoever he's working with jammed and erased any evidence of him."
Natasha relaxed, satisfied, and the agent then turned to him "Mr. Potter. My name is Agent Coulson." Harry scrutinized him. He seemed like a decent person, though he doubted his ability to judge that now. "We have a few hours until we touch down in D.C. I know this must be confusing for you, but I want you to know that we're on your side."
Harry didn't voice the thought out loud, even though he was sorely tempted to. Bullshit.