The touch confirms what Natasha has simply suspected until now - that despite their differences, the mistrust that runs deep from a lifetime of being betrayed, there is a rare kind of understanding that flashes between them now. She feels Vesper shiver, and it’s a familiar reaction when you truly know how it feels when the words are necessary. Nodding confirmation at the location, she’s nevertheless unprepared once more for the intimacy of the gesture, her hands tightening on Vesper’s waist. The words are warm on her skin, tempting, and despite the eyes of the room being on them - or perhaps because of it - she turns just slightly, now far too close to be safe. “The bar,” she murmurs, although she makes absolutely no move towards the destination. In fact, her only movement is to wrap her fingers lightly around the back of Vesper’s neck, drawing her into a fleeting kiss before slipping away, moving to the bar with heightened colour and waiting for the other woman to join her. Foolish, impulsive, and the first thing to make her pulse race since her last contract kill.
Vesper had to admit that the touch of the other woman’s hands on her is different, it’s welcome even. Some sort of unspoken recognition was shared between them, Vesper could feel it, maybe see it in her eyes, if that’s what it really was. At the same time, Romanoff was a big question mark. Perhaps that was her type. People she couldn’t quite figure. James had been one of those and now she was in the arms of a SHIELD agent whose hands layed on her waist. Vesper intended to look at the bar when she realized the agent was not moving but she was surprised by her lips against her own. Even as in awe as she was, Vesper could feel herself kissing back before the agent moved away. Had her own mask slipped? Straightening herself, Vesper smiled proudly, as if she was the cat who ate the canary. After all, she was accompanied by the prettiest woman in the whole place, she should flaunt it, or her character should, as Vesper felt flustered. So she followed her and stopped by her side on the counter.
As Natasha leans against the bar, she could swear that she’d felt Vesper kissing her back, even for that briefest of moments. The thought makes her unconsciously shiver a little, and she’s glad that she’s alone at the bar for now. When she feels Vesper’s bare arm press against her own, she can’t help but smile just a little. “May I offer you a drink, Miss Lynd?” she asks, slipping her arm possessively around Vesper’s waist. She can feel the eyes of the man upon them, curious as to the continuation of their encounter, and she’s not one to disappoint. She ducks her head, murmuring in the other woman’s ear. “They can’t take their eyes from you, this time for the right reasons. You’re playing beautifully.” She hates the idea that this is simply an act, especially with the slight spark provoked by such a brief kiss lingers beneath her skin, but it’s safest for both of them. “A drink, some conversation, and then we leave.”
