Intober 2023: Day 02 - Roleplaying

John saw Black Widow come walking up the pavilion towards SHIELD's entrance before she registered on the trackers. According to Mike, she tended to wear a pair of giant dark sunglasses that really confused the system. You'd think something as old and as common as sunglasses wouldn't be enough to fool the single most well-funded secure facility on Earth, but the first rule of security was that your systems were only as good as people thought they were. Most people would have also thought sunglasses wouldn't be enough, so nobody really tried them. It was always a balaclava or a full face shield, and then ironically almost always a geotagged gun or geotagged comm system as well. Insecurity was a double-edged sword.

When she stepped in she nodded to him and reached into her bag for a second before scowling.

"Wanna do a girl a solid and skip the ID check?" She nodded to him again, then lowered her sunglasses, "You new?"

"First day, Ms. Widow."

"Absolutely not Ms. Widow," She scowled, "Where's Mike? He not babysitting you?"

"No ma'am, Fury called some Security Officer meeting. He might be back in a few minutes, might not be back until the end of the shift."

"Hm, ma'am is better," She looked him up and down, "But even if you're young and green, we're coworkers."

"Natasha?"

"I said coworkers, don't get ahead of yourself loverboy." She smirked.

"Ms. Romanov?"

"Do I look like one of your teachers?"

"What should I call you?"

"What do you feel like you should call me?" She had a way of smiling that felt like being dared to try your luck. She had also killed more people than he'd ever known, if the records were to be believed.

"I'm... not sure, ma'am."

"Well, you're not sure, but you went back to ma'am. So ma'am it is. And if ma'am forgot her identification, today, would you be willing to look the other way and make sure ma'am isn't late?"

"I don't see a problem with that, ma'am." John nodded, "The scanners positively identified you and didn't pick up any interference, so it's impossible that you could be anyone else."

"Surely there would be other reasons to have me go through security properly than just to make sure I'm not an imposter?"

"No disrespect ma'am, but if there was anything threatening on your person, the scanners at the door would have picked it up. Not to say you aren't a threat yourself, but-"

"Well no disrespect either," She reached into her suit for what seemed like less than even a full second and brought out a white plastic gun aimed directly at his head, "But you just got yourself and Nick Fury killed."

John froze, feeling a pit of ice form in his gut. Several years of training told him to reach for his gun and protect SHIELD at all costs, but a lifetime of trying not to die made him raise them slowly. Widow laughed.

"Well, you're a warm enough body that I'm not actually going to kill you. Most of the starched dicks they hire go right for the gun. Survival instinct? Cool under pressure? Froze up?"

"It... little bit of all three?" John kept as still as he could.

"Two of those will help you, one won't." She flicked her wrist and the gun vanished, most likely into her sleeve, "Let's assume it's one of the ones we want, the odds are in your favor there. How do we prevent that sort of thing from happening?"

"What do you mean? I don't think an ID check would have prevented that."

"Good. There are two kinds of security, either preventing the bad thing from happening or responding to it having happened. When somebody comes in and pulls a gun, what do you need to do?"

"Shoot them," It felt more than a little like being dressed down by one of his instructors again.

"Right, but if they're faster than you and already have the gun drawn, and if it's you and me I will always be faster, how do you keep yourself from getting into that situation?"

"Find the gun before you pull it, but the scanners didn't pick it up."

"Does your gun point itself at the bad guys? Do you let a machine jerk you off?"

"No."

"Then what do you need to do?"

"I guess... I would pat you down, but I don't think that's standard procedure."

"Standard procedure told you to grab your gun when I drew mine on you, and you didn't listen then."

"Are you telling me to pat you down?" John looked at her uncertainty.

"Would you like to pat me down?"

"In the interest of security, I should probably-"

"I didn't ask if you thought you should, I asked if you wanted to. I've got about five minutes before being late becomes being very late, so we can practice your security techniques if you want."

With her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses, all he had to go off of was that same predatory cat smile.

"Yes, I would like to."

"Well, Fury and Mike probably wouldn't be happy to hear you phrase it like that. They'd probably want you to say that what you wanted mattered less than the security of the organization, but the corporate speak hasn't ever done it for me."

She stepped back toward the door and extended her arms.

"Let's play pretend, then. You don't know who I am, you don't know if I'm armed or not. All you know is that I'm a stranger who wants to get into the building. I could be anybody."

"Ma'am," John held up his hand, "I'll have to search you before you come in."

"Put your hand on your gun when you say it, just carrying a big metal dick extension around doesn't command respect."

"Ma'am," John repeated with a hand on the butt of his gun, "I'm going to have to search you."

"Better," Natasha stepped forward, "I have nothing to hide, of course."

She held out her arms at her sides and let John step in. With her eyes still hidden behind her sunglasses, he couldn't be sure if this whole game of hers was about to end very suddenly and painfully. He reached up and pulled them off of her face, setting them on the rolling desk beside the door.

"Really?" She looked genuinely surprised, "Why deprive a lady of her sun shades? Surely I couldn't have been hiding anything behind them."

"I couldn't tell where you were looking while you had them on," John responded plainly.

"Not bad reasoning," She shrugged, "Still kind of a dick move in the summer."

John reached over and grabbed at the arm he had seen the gun vanish into, pressing down on the leather sleeve here and there, waiting to find the outline of it. To his surprise, it may as well have vanished. He felt up and down the whole arm with increasing incredulity.

"Mr. Security, sir." Natasha looked at him innocently, "Shouldn't you check my other arm, too?"

"Your gun, I saw you hide it in here."

"First of all, that's not playing the way I said to. Don't metagame." She frowned, unzipped the front of her catsuit to expose her cleavage and reached in. She caught him staring enough that when she pulled out a wallet, it took him a moment to register it was his, "Second of all, I'll keep in mind that sleight of hand is our downfall if I ever hear about Hydra making allegiances with street magicians."

John scowled and reached a hand into her cleavage, pushing down into the enveloping warm flesh and probing for his fingers with anything else.

"Most people don't hide two things in the same spot," She smirked.

"Most people," He kept his hand where it was.

She reached up and unzipped her suit a bit further, shrugging it over her shoulders. Bringing her hands up to cover her nipples, she pulled her bare breasts apart, freeing his hand and exposing that there was nothing else in there.

"See?" She nodded, "Nothing there."

John could feel his breath getting faster. He reached out and grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away and exposing her breasts fully.

"There either," She sighed, "That wasn't even a realistic hiding spot."

He reached out and as gingerly as he could lifted one breast and then the other while poking underneath and at the sides, looking for surgery scars or some kind of hidden skin compartment. Each of them was almost as big as her head on their own, he tried to rationalize that they were just good hiding spots and that he was right to check them. She reached up and put her hand over his and squeezed it.

"Well come on," She whispered, "If you're checking for fakery, give them a proper squeeze."

She still had the same cheshire-cat smile like she was as liable to actually let him do it as she was to make him regret it. He made the choice to regret something he'd actually done and kneaded the soft skin of her tit in his hand. Her lips parted very slightly without breaking the smile.

"Looks like a dead end." She whispered.

John pulled his hand back and glanced her up and down before trying to go back to some manner of a professional pat down. He checked both arms, shoulders, and underarms, then got low enough to feel up and then down both of her muscular legs. She might as well have been wearing lycra. He couldn't feel a damn thing. Even pitching a tent, he couldn't help but feel a mounting frustration. John straightened up.

"Alright, I give." He sighed, "Where is it?"

"Come on now, you've still got at least one place left to check." She nodded down with her head, "Don't guys always joke about girls having more hiding places than they do?"

There was a tinge of panic. John couldn't help but feel like this really was the put-on, the point where she would get him to do something that she rewarded with a broken arm. But as she pulled the suit away from her navel for him, he also didn't have any doubt that he was about to do it anyway. John slid his hand into her suit and down her stomach.

"Ooh, soft hands," She whispered, "And here I thought they worked you boys hard in training."

It wasn't ambiguous when he found what he'd been looking for. A hot, soft, almost shockingly wet place that bloomed around his fingers and invited his touch. Natasha's lips parted again as he felt his way around the outside. The swollen firm bulb of her clit, the tender parting of her folds. She leaned slightly into him. His heart was pounding in his ears, his fingers content to tease around the outside and rub against her clit, but there was an extra step over the line which still seemed terrifyingly like too much.

"Come on," When she whispered, John was shocked by how genuinely desperate her voice sounded, "You never know what I could be hiding until you check."

John pushed his middle finger in, feeling the warm wetness of Natasha's sex unfolding around his finger, then followed with his index. Even just around two fingers, her pussy was tight enough to feel like he could barely move. He flexed his palm as best he could in limited space, grinding the heel of his hand against her clit while the tips of his fingers pushed back toward him and his forearm. Natasha's hand found his bulge through his pants and started to rub in return, the spy leaning into his hand as much as she could. Her lips barely parted; he could hear her hard breaths, even if she refused to moan for him.

"Fuck, I'm not the first girl you've done this with, am I?" She whispered, "Do they teach you this in training, or do you just have some other dangerous women in your life?"

John didn't respond, letting her hear his heavy uneven breaths as he kept flexing and pushing with his hand, even as his wrist started to ache. The sounds of her growing wetness came louder and louder from inside of her suit. He badly wanted to take it the rest of the way off, to free his hand to give her a more proper search. More than that he wanted to push her over the security table and shut her up. Even with her melting in his hands, even as she started to shiver and tremble from his touch, she kept that cheshire smile, she kept whispering or talking to him like she was the one in control. As she pressed her weight against him, he only wanted more and more to show her who was in charge.

She leaned further in towards him, lips almost against his ear. He felt something cold and hard press against his bulge through his pants, then he heard a hammer click back. Her lips parted.

"Bang."

John pulled away. Natasha uncocked the hammer of her ghost gun and twirled it in her hand.

"Alright then," John tried to catch his breath, "Where was it?"

"Ah ah ah," Natasha zipped her suit back into place and picked her sunglasses up off of the rolling desk, "Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

She stepped past him and gave a semi-mocking salute, then gestured with her gun toward his crotch before slipping it into her suit again.

"I'll be back up here on my lunch break, maybe you'll find it then." She slipped her sunglasses back on, "But you might need something bigger than those fingers."