Natasha slipped into the bar, immediately noticing the several pairs of eyes that looked her way. She could play at being a party girl just as easily as any other role, but there was no need. She was only after one person, and surveillance indicated that he drank alone. She easily demurred a man's offer to buy her a drink, sidestepped a stumbling, drunk woman leaning on her companion, and made her way to the bar.
She got herself a beer to nurse- better than something more alcoholic, it might put her off her game- and cast a brief glance at the man sitting a few seats down, quickly evaluating him in the space of a few seconds. She could tell that he was young, in his early twenties perhaps, a few years younger than her. His- fake- identification indicated that he was 21, which probably wasn't too far off the mark.
He was disheveled- with simple, well worn clothes, a mop of jet black hair, and a slight stubble. He was isolated, no one approached him, and nothing in his body language welcomed being approached. He too had a beer that he barely touched. Why was he at the bar, if he didn't want to drink and didn't want to socialize?
The answer was clear, he was killing time. Surveillance indicated that he spent two nights a week at the bar, drinking a single beer each night. Most other nights he spent either walking the city aimlessly or just staying in. He worked in a warehouse- loading and unloading freight and keeping track of stock, but outside of his job he was a ghost. He passed through the world but didn't interact with it.
It made Natasha somewhat skeptical that he truly was enhanced. A person who had supernatural powers would have some sort of purpose in life, right? Having truly remarkable abilities that defied the laws of nature, only to let your life slip through your fingers, it just didn't make sense.
Yet…
Natasha had seen more than enough of human nature to know people weren't so simple, and there were hints in this man's file that raised a few eyebrows. As far as Shield could tell, Harry Potter did not exist. Undocumented immigrants were a dime a dozen, particularly in this part of the country. Most of them worked under a fake ID, or through under the table agreements with employers. Undocumented British immigrants… not so common.
But this Harry Potter, there was nothing on him. No birth records, no citizenship records, no aliases, nothing. This wasn't impossible, records got redacted or destroyed, but it certainly indicated that something was going on with this man. There was a reason for the listless look in his eyes.
Who exactly was Harry Potter?
-----
He was torn from his trance by the sound of a drink sliding towards him. His eyes focused on the glass that the barkeep had served him, a mixed drink. The woman sitting a few seats down crooked an eyebrow at him and slid over.
She was, by any objective standard, gorgeous. What the hell did she want to do with him?
Well, that wasn't the right question. If her flirtatious smile was any indication, he knew exactly what she wanted to do with him. The real question was why?
"Err, hi."
"A Brit!" She returned, and held a hand out "Nat."
"Harry." After a moment of hesitation, he took it. "Yes, I'm a brit. Or was, rather."
"Sounds like a story."
Harry chuckled; you have no idea. "Oh yeah, quite a tale. Lived in a castle. Pulled a sword out of a stone. Travelled through time. Defeated the dark lord. All the normal British stuff." It wasn't quite accurate. He'd pulled a sword out of a hat, and Voldemort had been alive and kicking when he had died, though he hoped his friends would have been able to send that bastard to hell.
"You're telling me British books and TV shows aren't an accurate representation of the UK? I'm shocked." Natasha said with an equal amount of deadpan, drawing half a laugh out of Harry.
"Yeah, it's a total letdown." Harry said "Now you Americans, you lot are exactly like the shows and movies say you are."
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment, or if I should be offended." Natasha grinned.
"A bit of both." Harry said cheekily, taking a sip of his drink. The banter continued on for several minutes, not touching on anything important, simply a mechanism for them to amuse each other. Harry was surprised at how quickly he'd become comfortable with this woman. It was just so easy, talking to her, and he found himself wanting to know more, to have something more with her than just a casual conversation. "Haven't seen you around. What brings you here?"
"I'm in town for a few weeks for a job. Decided to see the town."
"And you went here?" Harry said incredulously. El Paso wasn't the biggest city, but come on.
Natasha snickered internally, perhaps that hadn't been her best lie. "I go where my feet take me." She shrugged "But fortune usually smiles on me. Certainly is tonight." Another flirtatious smile, and damn, Harry hadn't felt much of anything in years, but that smile sent a shiver down his spine and heat to his cheeks. "I could ask you the same question, though. What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" As quickly as it had bubbled up, any pleasant feelings froze as Harry was brought back to reality. He knew exactly how he'd come to be here, how could he forget?
Harry Potter, the boy who lived, come to die.
He shook himself. His companion now looked concerned "Are you alright?"
"Yeah." Harry forced a painful smile "Just, bad memories."
"Sorry." She apologized "I'm just a curious person. If a step over the line feel free to call me out."
"I appreciate that." Harry breathed, letting the tension flow out of him. He felt more comfortable with her assurances. He certainly wasn't going to tell her anything- she'd run out of the bar screaming that he was mad.
It was one of the things that made it hard to meet people. He could barely tell anyone about most of his life, or why he walked around like an inferi. After he'd walked to his death at Voldemort's hand, he'd woken up with nothing but the clothes on his back in another world, but it was almost like he'd left something behind in that clearing where he'd died. He had no wand, only the barest of magic, no money, no identification, no friends... he had nothing, nothing but memories.
"Hey." She put a hand on his shoulder. Harry nearly shivered at the simple act of affection. How long had it been since he'd been touched? He tried to remember, back at the battle of Hogwarts- Hermione, Ron, Ginny… he didn't know. "It's okay."
"Sorry." He said roughly, and tried to move the discussion along "Suffice it to say, I had a very rough go of it, don't really have any relatives, none worth having, anyway. Decided to try to make a new life across the pond." The Weasleys had been family, but not relatives. The Dursleys, of course, didn't count. God, what was she even doing with him? He was acting like a total basket case at the slightest provocation.
Well, Dean had once told him in one of his moodier phases in fifth year that lots of girls loved the damaged types. Natasha nodded sympathetically. "I don't have any family either. Hard to have friends when you're travelling constantly for work."
Harry frowned "Workaholic, eh? What do you do?" Any job that required travel put her far above his paygrade.
"I'm basically a glorified secretary." She rolled her eyes "Cleaning up all the higher up's messes. That sort of thing. I'll be honest, my job is the last thing I want to talk about right now."
"Understandable." Harry nodded. "We'll have to save riveting discussions about paperwork for a later date."
"Presumptuous." She teased, sporting a coy smile.
Harry couldn't help but grin, unable to hide it even by taking a sip of his drink, slipping into banter with her was remarkably easy. She'd dispelled his melancholy just like that. They were facing each other now, leaning in face to face. "What can I say? My gut rarely steers me wrong."
He could feel her hot breath on his face as she responded. "Are you sure that's your gut, or… something else." That last part came out as a purr. And the pure sensuality of her voice was simply electric. His something else was now at attention.
"I guarantee you, Natasha. If I were thinking with my cock, I wouldn't be just talking to you right now." He practically growled. He hadn't intended on being so… forward. But she well and truly had started it- approached him, bought him a drink, started flirting, it was about time he pushed back.
Natasha's eyes went wide with surprise, making Harry concerned that he'd overstepped, but a moment later they narrowed, her mouth curling into an almost predatory smile. "I think you should put your money where your mouth is."
----
This hadn't exactly been her plan. Certainly, she'd been chosen in part because she could 'work her wiles' on him, as it were, but outright seduction wasn't the expectation, not with Shield.
She'd been intending to flirt, to butter him up and get him to open up over the course of a few weeks, but somehow that had gone off the rails almost immediately. Something about Harry had drawn out… well not her 'real' personality since she could put on a natural feeling persona in an eyeblink, but certainly her ground state.
They traded deadpan jokes and she tried to gently pry into his past. That… hadn't gone well. It seemed that her assumption that he had some sort of trauma was dead on. Whatever had happened, it had left him fleeing his homeland, living listlessly with nothing outside his job.
And honestly? Same.
That was probably what drew her to him. Odd as it sounded, they were kindred spirits of a sort. She had no doubt now, that what had happened to him was linked to whatever powers he had- perhaps he too had been the pawn of some underground organization. It would be natural for him to keep a low profile if that was the case. Speaking with him, she'd become convinced he wasn't a threat. That had been the hope going into this, after all he'd only broken his cover for a good cause.
That was why Shield was taking a lighter touch, instead of just dragging him in. He'd been caught on roadside camera stopping an assault in progress. It had gone quite poorly for Harry- he seemed to have taken a gunshot to the stomach, but then, remarkably, his assailant was sent flying across the street and off screen. Harry had then staggered off, shrugging off a brief attempt to help him with his injuries.
Exactly what her organization had planned for him depended on the details she was trying to find out. What were his powers? What kind of person was he? The possibilities ranged from high security lockdown, to long distance surveillance, to even a level of partnership with Shield.
Having sex with him wasn't just not necessary for her mission. If anything, it would make things more difficult in a lot of ways, but… she was swept up in the moment. He was cute. She hadn't seen it at first, but the instant she'd drawn that first smile from him it had lit up his previously dull eyes, and wow it suddenly became obvious how striking he was. They just clicked in a way that Nat had never experienced with a mark. Talking with him was fun, a sort of dance as she tried to figure him out. Plus, she hadn't gotten laid in… well she didn't care to remember.
Put your money where your mouth is, she's said, and she learned something else about Harry Potter- he didn't back down from a challenge. His kiss was enthusiastic yet clumsy, at least at first. She suspected it had been a while for him. If she were playing a role, she likely would have let him continue to take the lead, let him become comfortable. But his inexpert kissing had prompted something to rise in her, a desire to take control. She straddled his lap and pressed her crotch down into his, and with a hand to his chest, pushed him back against the bar. Her other hand wound through his disheveled hair as she pressed the assault, she plunged her tongue into his mouth and skillfully kissed the sense from him.
He was music to her ears. She drank in his every whimper and moan as she claimed his mouth for her own, and each noise just encouraged her to go harder, to press deeper. It was also gratifying to feel how his body shivered in response to her. His hips thrust, perhaps instinctively upwards, grinding his erection into her crotch and forcing Natasha herself to moan into the kiss.
At this point Natasha was forced to wrench her lips from his, her chest heaving for breath as she stared down Harry's adorably dazed expression. Not to be phased, however, she ground her hips down into his, and despite herself she found her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a gasping moan. He felt good- not to mention he looked good and sounded good too- and she could feel the desire building in her core. She ached to press herself closer to him, but more than that, she ached to take him inside her.
Harry's reaction was more than worth the effort- his face briefly clouded with bliss and he let out a whimper that sent electricity down her spine. "Merlin."
Hm. That was not a British expression, she filed that piece of information away. "Why don't you show me your sword, King Arthur?" She purred, sporting a teasing smile. Things were getting far too intimate for a bar, or any public space. After a moment of thought, she came to the conclusion that going to his apartment would be better than her hotel. "Where do you live?" She knew the answer of course, his apartment was just a couple blocks down.
It took far longer than it should have to make it back to his apartment. It wasn't that either of them was drunk, just pleasantly buzzed, which had perhaps contributed to her impulsive decision to bed him. No, the reason it too so long is that were simply all over each other.
They'd started out with him leading her, since she ostensibly didn't know the way. This gave her eyes the opportunity to appreciate his ass. As she understood it, his job involved a lot of hard labor, and all signs indicated that it had done good things for his body. It was only natural to cop a feel. She probably should have expected that he would respond. With a subtle growl, he turned and pushed her into the wall, claiming her lips before kissing voraciously along her jawline. "Fuck." She murmured as she arched herself into his body, he was likely to leave marks, but she didn't care. If need be she could cover it with concealer. His mouth dove lower, down her neck. She never imagined she'd have an encounter like this- making out with a practical stranger while pinned to a dingy wall in the bad part of town. She never could have predicted how thrilling it would be.
In their tryst the top button of her blouse had come undone, giving him a peak at her cleavage. His hands came up, and for a moment it looked as if he would just rip the garment off her. She wasn't going to stop him, but with what seemed like heroic restraint, he reined himself in. "Come on." He said, his voice rough with arousal.
That wasn't the end of it, and she really was to blame. She couldn't help but get him riled up, see just how far she could push him. She kissed along his neck, nibbled at his ear, her hands frequently found their way to his ass, or felt up the bulge of his erection. As often as not, Harry would be forced to retaliate. A few more buttons of her blouse had come undone by the time they'd reached his apartment.
She could tell that these weren't comfortable accommodations even before he flicked the light on, not that she bothered to give her surroundings more than a passing thought. Without the inhibition of being in public, Natasha attacked him with relish, pushing him back until they were at his bed. "Get your clothes off." She told him roughly. For a moment, there was only the sounds harsh breathing and the rustling of clothing as they both rushed to undress.
Her heart was pounding, blood and adrenaline rushed through her veins. It was the same addictive rush she felt when in combat, or diving out a plane. It roared in her ears, pounded in her chest, throbbed and tingled in her cunt, and it was spurred on when he pulled his shirt off. He wasn't built like many men in her profession, but he was lean and toned from long hours of manual labor, and she found that it suited him far better than excessively bulging muscles did other men. She also noticed more than a few scars, something else to file away for later.
In her impatience, she ripped open the last button of her blouse, sending it clinking to the floor, and molded her lips to Harry's again. This was mostly an excuse to run her hands across his chest and abdomen, feeling the pounding of his own heart, and the tensing of his muscles beneath her hands. Harry's hands weren't idle, either, pushing off her now loosely hanging blouse, running over her bare skin, before finding the latch of her bra. If her tongue wasn't currently plundering Harry's mouth, she would have smirked. Harry was a red-blooded man, of course that would be his target.
But his inexperience showed, and his fingers just couldn't manage the clasp blind and under pressure. Natasha took pity on him, standing back and pushing his hands away. She met his eyes as she undid the clasp, letting her bra fall away. His eyes momentarily lost focus as his breath caught. "Oh my god." He moaned "So fucking sexy."
She'd been on the receiving end of catcalls and compliments ranging from the derogatory to the romantic, but the raw passion and pure admiration conveyed in his voice gratified her like nothing else. She knew she was attractive, but most of the time it was just a tool for her, something to be used for the greater good, not for her own enjoyment.
She bent over to pull her tight-fitting jeans down, and received another jolt of gratification when his amorous eyes dipped down to follow her cleavage. "Like what you see?" She teased.
Harry jolted, seeming to come to himself, and a little bashfully said "Er, yes?" Before setting to work on his own jeans. Hers were quite a bit more difficult to peel off than his, so she was in the awkward situation of being caught with her pants half-down when Harry shucked off his boxers.
"Hnn." She moaned softly, her teeth worrying her lower lip. Her hands went slack as she her eyes took in his body in full, and of course, his cock. He was swollen and flushed red with blood. His shaft jutted away from his body urgently, as if begging… demanding attention. He was uncircumcised, and his cockhead was in full bloom, swollen and purpling with blood and his tip glistened with the sheen of precum. Her inner muscles clenched powerfully as a roiling, ravenous hunger churned and pulsed in her core. She needed that cock insider her. She was completely ready to throw him on the bed and ride him all night.
Yet she still needed to banish these annoying pants. Harry knelt in front of her, helping her tug them down. Then, his hands slid sensually up her thighs, fingers looping around the waistband of her panties, and slid back down. His eyes, however, never left her womanhood, and his tongue peaked out, wetting his lips and causing something unidentifiable to flutter in her core. It was then that Natasha realized her position, he was going to… "You don't have to." She said, her voice wavering with desire.
"I want to." He said, and the hunger in his vivid green eyes confirmed it. "Show me what to do. I've never…" He murmured. The request utterly disarmed her, it showed a level of openness and humility that she'd rarely seen. He didn't wait for her to agree, pressing a kiss to the side of her knee and slowly working his way up her thigh. It was the anticipation, more than anything, that had her gasping right now. Each kiss invited her to imagine what his lips would feel like on her sex, sparking sympathetic tingles in her engorged clit, and each kiss brought her closer to finding out.
When he reached her upper thigh, his tongue swept out to collect the arousal that had dripped down. "Hunng." She couldn't help but moan, imagining how his tongue would feel along her slit. She was absolutely dripping now, allowing him to repeat this a few more times until she finally lost her patience. Her hands gripped his hair and tugged him up, pressing his face right against her cunt. "Yessss!" She moaned, grinding down onto his face.
A moment later, he set to work himself, lapping out her folds without purpose. It was cute, part of her tittered, and it felt incredible, but she needed to get off and he required a little direction to get her there. "Harder." She grunted as she continued to grind down on him, smearing her juices across his face. It was quite the sight, Harry on his knees in front of her, worshiping her like a goddess, his green eyes peeking out over her red curls and her arousal shining on his face.
He got the hint, and his tongue pressed more firmly against her, dipping into her folds, moaning as he tasted her, driving her mad. She used her grip on his head to guide him upward. "My clit." She ordered, or begged, the lines were becoming blurred. Harry had no trouble finding the engorged little nub "YEEESS!" She howled "Suck it!" Then, a moment later as he followed instructions "Oh FUCK!" Her voice broke. The feel of his tongue and the sweet suction of his mouth on her clit overwhelmed everything else. Her knees turned to jelly and she was forced to collapse onto the bed, throwing her hair back as she keened. "Oh yes! Oh fuck yes! Ooooh FUCK!" Her thighs clamped around his head as she came, writhing against his mouth as she screamed to the heavens.
"That was good?" Harry asked. She felt… blissfully delirious as she came down from her peak and couldn't immediately give a response. He was absolutely brimming with pride, beaming as he settled into bed next to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Speechless, Nat?"
Without saying a word, she pushed him onto his back and pinned him to the bed, perching herself on top of him. The hunger in her core hadn't disappeared when she hit her peak, far from it. It had returned with a vengeance, stoked further by adrenaline, oxytocin and the dozen other hormones flooding her system. He looked up at her, his wide, receptive eyes meeting her intense, lustful stare. She took a few heaving breaths as she collected her thoughts. "Harry." She finally said "I'm going to fuck you."