Natasha looks back, gaze never faltering at the words. “They know who you are,” she murmurs, allowing her gaze to linger purposefully on Vesper’s mouth - although out of the corner of the eye, she can see the men regard them with a whole new, although much less dangerous, interest. “You’d better get used to people following you, Vesper. We can only hold them off for so long while you’re exposed like this.” She guides Vesper’s hand up, past where her gun is - she doesn’t want these men to know she’s armed unless it’s necessary. “The bracelets on my wrists,” she tells the other woman, closer than she’s been to a target, especially one so obviously intelligent and beautiful, “Electrocute. If they approach, I need you to step away, as quickly as possible.”
“Isn’t that a refreshing bit of news”, she said sarcastically, sliding her hand up Romanoff’s back as the agent herself had ‘instructed’. The more she thought about those faces, the more she seemed to recognize them. Seven years and some traumas later down the road, it was hard to remember everyone involved on Quantum, specially tugs — which Vesper believed them to be — so as she stood within Romanoff’s personal space like she was her lover, her mind tried its best to make sense of that. Although fear was often something one should guide oneself by. For some odd reason, or the fact the agent had a gun and stood so close - she felt somewhat safe. Vesper eyes trailed down to the other woman’s arm to the more than intricate piece she had on. Not to look too suspicious, she took the woman’s hand and brought them to her lips, kissing its knuckles gently. Lips still brushing against them, she smiled. “I can do that.”
Natasha concentrates on remaining unaffected by the gesture, while appearing to soften slightly against Vesper. “Why, it’s as though you’ve had practise at this,” she murmurs with a smirk, drawing Vesper’s own hand to her mouth to allow the other woman to inspect the weapon. “We’ll stay,” she decides, some unknown instinct making itself know through her mouth, “For now. They’ll suspect if they believe we’re aware they’ve spotted us.” She lets go, just a little, leading Vesper towards the dancefloor. “Dance with me?” she asks, and she’s admittedly employing her best moves on this one. A target worth acquiring, somehow - perhaps a woman finally a match for her. That’s still to be seen, but she cannot deny a certain visceral thrill at the thought of her acting so casually as a lover. “Until you know them for sure, they may hold valuable information in those otherwise empty skulls,” she murmurs, hand resting on Vesper’s lower back as she guides her possessively to the dance floor.
