Carrying Small Stones

“Black Widow.”

Her back locked up as she realized the voice was far too close, and she glanced up while masking her surprise. The smile he flashed her was deceptively vacant and charming, and reminded her of the one that Tony gave to the media. He had his hands in his pockets, which made her nervous. He didn’t look like the soldier, though.

There was his arm, for one. It certainly wasn’t made of metal. She could recall the glint of the sun off its rounded curves as she doubled over from the bullet, but his wrist was visible right where the cuffs of his shirt were scrunched up, and it was clearly skin.

There was no recognition in his eyes, either.

“Well, well,” she said, and managed to keep her voice unfailingly steady. “Don’t you clean up nice?”

He glanced away, but she wasn’t fooled. He would still see any move she made. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t play along,” he said, and then looked back at her with a smile so charming she couldn’t even confirm it was fake. “I’m not in the mood, and I’m sure you’re very aware of how you look.”

She quirked a grin, and this time it was automatic. “You don’t remember me at all, do you?”

His smile didn’t even slip. “Should I remember you?” he asked. “Well, don’t worry, there’s a lot I’ve forgotten these days, so you’re not special. Maybe you’re just not as memorable as you think.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, running her eyes over him. She let her lips slip up seductively, even though she was mostly just checking for weapons. But he wasn’t fooled.

He also wasn’t armed, which was a surprise.

And also concerning, because unarmed or not, he didn’t appear the least bit concerned about her—and if there was one thing she knew about this particular ghost, it was that he wasn’t stupid.

“Are you here for me?” he asked, leaning forward. “Or for him? And fair warning, if it’s the latter, I’m going to be very concerned.”

“You’d rather I was after you?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” he said easily. “Tony can certainly take care of himself, but I am his new head of security, and I take that role very seriously. So…should I be concerned?”

“I wouldn’t hurt Tony,” she said.

“That’s not what I asked,” he pointed out.

“Of the two of us, who do you think he should really be concerned about?” she asked after a moment. “This is a nice facade, but you know what you really are.”

“So does he,” he said, unworried.

“And do you know who you are?” she asked, and there was a flicker, the slightest chink in his armor. His eyes seemed to flash momentarily a little more blue, and he stumbled a step back.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded. “Why are you here?”

“You really don’t, do you?” she asked in surprise. “Does Tony?”

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing,” he told her, and stalked back towards her until they were just a hairsbreadth apart. “But I meant what I said before. I really don’t have much patience for games, these days.”

He wasn’t even touching her, but she could feel the power charge between them. From what she’d been able to tell, his strength was on par with Steve’s. But where Steve was casual about that power, at this particular moment his erstwhile sergeant had no issues in letting his own shine through.

She had to clamp down hard on her danger-sense, on that instinct to flee when she lost the upper hand and needed to regain her balance—but he’d left her with no where to go. They were surrounded on all sides by oblivious party-goers, so they may as well be alone.

“You say you know who I am,” he said, his voice level and sweet as he leaned close beside her ear. “So that means you know what I’ve done. You know I’m capable of. So I won’t waste my time describing what will happen if you hurt him.” He stepped back then, his charming grin back in place. “I’ll just let you imagine that all on your own.”

He stepped backwards again, and it was like watching him shift into another person as he did it—the veils fell from his eyes, the menace beneath that bespoke suit dissolved, and he fired off an irreverent salute that was so like the old film reels that she nearly lost her breath.

“You enjoy your night now, Romanoff,” he told her, and the charming plastic smile was back, with a little extra smugness thrown in this time. He turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd and back towards Tony.

She swallowed hard and tightened her hand around the flute she was holding, so no one would see it tremble.