Burning

“And remember, we’ll be nearby in case you need backup,” Steve was saying.

Natasha raised her eyes to catch his in the rear view mirror. His deep blues met hers momentarily, before shifting back to the road ahead. It was kind of him to offer to drive them from the quinjet to their destination. Unnecessary, but kind. But good old Steve Rogers was never comfortable with sending his teammates off on any mission alone.

“That one, there,” James piped up, gesturing to a tall, white building. The hotel-casino truly glowed against the dark night sky, and it oozed an aura of wealth. Nat hadn’t been to Las Vegas in years, but she wasn’t surprised when Klaue’s bank account showed a recent transaction at the newest and swankiest place in the city.

Steve cleared his throat while pulling up to the building. “Keep your phones on. Bruce is trying to get information from our friends in Wakanda about Klaue. If we find him that way, we can pull you out early.”

Natasha reached forward from the back seat to place a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Steve. We’re just a couple of superheroes out for a good time in Sin City. What could possibly go wrong?”

James huffed a laugh before opening his door. “Be more concerned about yourself, Stevie. Traffic is crazy out there. Drive safe.”

He pushed himself out of the car and quickly moved to open her door as well. Natasha smiled to herself as she rose from the vehicle. Bucky Barnes. Always the gentleman.

She paused while he closed the door and waved goodbye to his friend, taking in their surroundings. Neon lights and giant screens made the strip as bright as day around them. The sidewalk was cluttered with bodies, the street jammed with cars. People of all sorts of ethnicity, all sorts of dress, and all levels of sobriety or intoxication meandered by. Some things never changed, and Vegas was one of them.

James placed his right hand on the small of her back and the pair made their way to the casino entrance. Natasha followed their reflection in the mirrored windows as they moved. Her dress of black and green was a good choice, she decided. It was sexy without being flashy. It showed that she didn’t mind attention, but wasn’t trying to seek it out. Her date, on the other hand, wore simple black pants and a black button up shirt. He had gone without gloves, at Nat’s request.

Tonight, they weren’t in disguise. They weren’t hiding. They were a celebrity couple, as far as the media was concerned, and they didn’t need to lay low in a place like this. As a playground for adults, Las Vegas was short on children who might approach them for an autograph. And sticking close to one another’s sides kept any drooling men or women from trying to make a move on either of them. Sure, they might be accosted by a few enthusiastic fans, but this was a city where star sightings weren’t rare. To most people, Natasha and James would be just another novelty in the neon lights.

A blast of cool air met them as they passed through the doors, and the duo purposefully made their way to the cashier’s booth. Nat let James do the talking as she surveyed the casino floor. No sign of their prey yet, but she had a feeling she knew where to find him.

When James returned to her side, he patted a pocket full of chips. “At least we get to play with Stark's money,” he said with a grin.

Nat smiled back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I told you he was good for something.”

His ice blue gaze darted up and down her body before lingering in her eyes. James’ expression softened momentarily, and he opened his mouth to speak. But no words came and he shook his head, dismissing whatever thought had sprung to his mind.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed in curiosity, but this wasn’t the time to press him for answers. Instead, she gave him a short nod and led the way across the casino floor. Straight to the high roller’s tables.

The high roller section was up a few steps and behind pillars lined with gauzy curtains, allowing the “regular people” below to look in on the ultra wealthy, while still setting a strict line between the two. Less people milled about under the blue-white light, not having to wait for a seat at the table like the rest of the masses.

Natasha raised her chin and made her way up the steps without hesitation. James followed as she passed a line of ringing slot machines advertising $50 a spin and a group of beautiful women tossing dice at a craps table. Then, she spotted their target.

Or rather, she heard him first. Ulysses Klaue was perched on a stool at a nearby blackjack table, singing “Fly Me to the Moon” along with the house music. He carelessly tossed a couple of chips to a stoic dealer, who must have had the patience of a saint. Klaue grinned and nudged a neighboring player with his elbow, cracking a joke that only made himself laugh.

“Well he’s a cheerful guy, isn’t he?” James muttered in her ear.

Natasha shrugged. “Glad we caught him in a good mood.” She started toward the table before freezing in her steps.

Klaue only had one hand.

His left sleeve was rolled up to what would be his elbow, but the empty fabric flapped around as the man gestured in the air.

James shifted behind her. “That wasn’t in the recent intel.”

It sure wasn’t. “Well,” Nat replied slowly, “let’s see what’s got him so happy despite the loss of his arm.”

She resumed moving gracefully through the aisles and took the open seat just next to their target. Klaue, mid-sip from his drink, turned to greet the new player, but started when he recognized the Black Widow. His eyes flickered upward to watch James take his place just behind her, and his expression hardened for a fraction of a second.

“Well now!” Klaue cried, a little too loudly as his jovial grin slipped back into place. “I was hoping for a celebrity sighting on this trip! I was expecting someone from Hollywood, but you’ll be a fine story to tell my mates.”

Natasha smiled in return as James produced the chips from his pocket to buy in at the table. “And what is it that you’ll say about me?” she asked, letting her eyes meet his.

The man cocked his head to the side. “How can I decide that when we’re just getting started. Here,” He waved a cocktail waitress down. “Have a cocktail. On my tab.”

Then he barked another laugh, spittle flying from his teeth. “I’m kidding. The drinks are all free!”

Nat glanced upwards at James as he ordered drinks from them, clearly doing his best not to roll his eyes at the man sitting next to her.

The dealer passed out cards to Klaue and herself, as well as the two other, quieter men at the table.

“I have to say I’m surprised to see someone like you in a place like this,” Natasha said slowly, eyeing the cards on the table before her. “I thought people in your profession usually tried to lay low.”

Klaue signaled to the dealer for another card. “No? Your former arms dealer teammate never was one to lay low.”

Touché, Nat thought. She also took another card. “Well, he’s retired from that life.”

“Maybe I am too,” Klaue said, taking another sip of his drink. “Or on hiatus, at least.”

Natasha gave him a sideways glance. “Really? Taking a break when you’re at the top of your game?”

The dealer also took another card. A face card on 15. Bust.

Klaue leaned back as the dealer passed out chips. “They say you should quit while you’re ahead,” he said with a smirk.

Natasha smiled in response. “They also say you shouldn’t make a deal with the devil.”

Pushing in enough chips for another hand, Nat’s opponent turned to face her, his expression suddenly stony. “I didn’t realize the devil looked like a robot and spoke like Tony Stark.”

Natasha also put in a small stack of chips, then turned to take the cocktail James handed to her. She met her boyfriend’s eyes, briefly, and he conveyed a look of caution.

“You know, I had an inkling that’s why you were here,” Klaue continued, the jovial tone returning to his voice. “You want information about that thing.”

Nat raised her eyebrows. “I was hoping we could have a conversation, yes,” she admitted.

Her opponent was avoiding her eyes. “Well, I make it a rule to only deal with the man in charge. “So unless Captain America is here…”

He was trying to slip away. Natasha wouldn’t let that happen.

“You think he’s the ‘man in charge?’” She repeated, allowing amusement to slip through her voice and her grin to grow wider. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Sweet Steve Rogers is a puppy dog. He might fight on the battlefield, but in reality, he’s as gentle as they come.”

She leaned in closer, momentarily ignoring the cards the dealer had placed in front of her and lowering her voice so just the two of them could hear. “Why don’t you deal with the woman in charge instead?”

It was a bluff, of course. Nat would never call herself the leader of the Avengers. But it was true that Steve Rogers was known for being an all around good guy. She just had to hope Klaue fell for the rest of it.

Klaue’s eyes flickered down to her self assured smile, then up to the Winter Soldier, who stood obediently behind her, ordering drinks and paying for her card games. When he meet her gaze again, there was less certainty in his eyes. “And what if I don’t feel like talking?” Klaue tried, choosing a different route.

“You’re on American soil,” Nat said, lifting her drink to her lips. “I’m sure the FBI, CIA, and the rest would love to see the records of your recent deposits. You can talk with them about the transactions from Somalia, Saudi Arabia, and Russia. It would be very easy for us to arrange that conversation.”

Behind her, James was slowly rolling up his sleeves, exposing more of his shining metal arm.

Klaue remained silent for several seconds, intently studying her face for any sign of weakness. Finally, he gave another loud laugh and turned to his cards.

The dealer was waiting, ever so silently patient, and Klaue signaled for another card, then another. He took a long pull from his drink while Nat signaled to hold, waiting for the dealer’s attention to move on.

“Fuck it,” Klaue finally said. “What have I got to lose, anyway? Your friend Ultron is at my facility, gathering the products I sold him. I told my men to clear out, gave them the weekend off. So it should be just him and the kids.”

Nat blinked.

“The kids?” James repeated, suddenly leaning in over the table and into the conversation.

“Yeah, the weird ones. With the accents.” He suddenly grinned. “You… you didn’t know?”

It was more of a statement than a question, and Natasha didn’t like letting on that they were surprised. She glanced up at James, who obediently settled back onto his heels, silently watching.

The dealer drew a card and paused. Natasha lost that hand. Klaue won.

The arms dealer reached across the table to collect his chips and pushed himself up from his seat.

“There’s a salvage yard off the coast of South Africa. I got it in a bum deal in exchange for some missiles, but that doesn’t matter anymore. You can have it, or destroy it, I don’t care. But that’s all you’re getting from me.”

He turned to go, but suddenly paused and spun to face James. “Where did you get that, anyway?” he asked, pointing to the metal arm.

James’ cold eyes hardened. “Hydra,” he replied, stiffly.

“From who, Strucker?”

“Before him.” The Winter Soldier clenched his fist, and Natasha held her breath.

But Klaue pursed his lips and tapped on his chin in thought. “You know what? You should put a gun on that thing or something. Yeah. That’ll do it.”

With that, he shoved his winnings in his pockets and moved away from his table, humming to himself as he went. Nat let him go.

James was already on his phone as they also stepped away, advising their teammates to check satellite footage off the coast of South Africa. After finding the shipyard, their next step would be to rush there and hope to catch Ultron before he escaped with his goods. And maybe apprehend the twins as well.

Nat’s mind was already in action, making plans, charting scenarios, crafting conversations that might sway the twins’ loyalty. But she suddenly felt a cool, metal hand on her elbow, drawing her to a stop.

She glanced up in confusion to find James looking down at her, a softness in his eyes and a wry smile on his lips. He gestured to a nearby bar with his right hand, tugging on her elbow with his left.

“What are you doing?” Natasha protested. “We don’t have time for this.”

But James was undeterred. “Can’t a guy buy his girl a drink? I did say I owed you a date night.”

Nat hesitated for a fraction of a second, then relented, more curious than anything else. It wasn’t exactly like her boyfriend to want to linger in a public place. The two took their place on a pair of empty barstools, and James placed an order with the bartender. When the man produced vodka for her and scotch for him, James paid with a few of the chips in his pocket and turned his eyes to meet hers.

“You were great tonight,” he said softly.

Natasha smiled in response, letting herself blush slightly at the compliment. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

He scoffed. “I just stood there.”

“You looked powerful, and it was effective,” she replied.

They both fell into silence as they took sips of their drinks. Nat found her eyes roaming the casino floor, falling back into the habit of analyzing everyone and everything around them. But her thoughts were again interrupted by James placing a gentle hand on her knee.

“I had a memory,” he said, simply, softly.

Once again, Natasha found herself holding her breath in anticipation. “Of us?” she whispered.

He nodded. “It was the third time we worked together.”