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.”
Vesper smiled at her, turning her head towards the agent. That had indeed been unexpected, but not at all unpleasant. It was plain for her to see, she liked the mystery that involved the SHIELD agent who almost literally swept her away. “Ms Romanoff, I thought you’d never ask”, she replied, faking some surprise in her voice. When Romanoff leaned in, Vesper thought she was going to kiss her again somehow, but the agent’s voice woke her from her thinking. “Well, it wasn’t difficult with your help”, she admitted, although she wasn’t sure if ‘help’ was the proper word for what was going on, or at least, for how things turned out in the end. Vesper smiled weakily this time, finding some relief in how and what she had planned for the two of them. “I like the sound of that”.
Natasha slips the glass to Vesper when it arrives, fingers lingering on the rim. She’s trying desperately to fight the urge to taste that mouth again, especially when there’s so much at stake. This isn’t about her safety, its about securing the target for SHIELD. She’s done this a thousand times before… so why does it feel so difficult now? “Natural talent, more than help,” she answers, hand slipping down to rest her thumb on the curve of Vesper’s hip. “Drink up, darling,” she says, loud enough for the bartender to hear. “I think we may need some… fresh air after this.” At the words, she leans in, trailing kisses along the other woman’s jawline, ensuring that the man who’s suddenly stopped polishing the glasses takes it in. Another spy. Will this mission never end? … Does she even want it to?
