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Natasha slides in through Matt's window and into his arms and into his life again, and all he can say, through a chuckle that rises out of his chest when she starts to kiss his neck, is "Where have you been?"
There's that smile again, he can feel it against his throat. "I take the fifth," Natasha replies coyly.
"Oh," Matt responds, impressed. "You've really learned to use my limits against me, haven't you?"
"It's what I do, councilor," she says, and her fingers deftly work to pull off his tie.
"This is sudden," he remarks, but he's not complaining. "I could have gotten you a cup of tea first."
"Actually, that can wait." The tie slides through her fingers-- Matt hears it drop to the floor-- and Natasha presses herself against him.
He tastes blood in the air. Not hers, though. Hopefully.
"No, really," murmurs Matt, craning his neck away when Natasha attempts to catch his mouth with hers. "Where have you been?"
"I take the fifth," she says simply.
"'Tasha," groans Matt, annoyed, especially when she runs her hands over his chest. "Don't screw with me--"
"Don't?" Natasha says, a pout evident in her voice. "Ah, I thought you wanted to--"
"You know what I mean," says Matt. He grabs her by the waist, keeping her close, but not too close yet...wait for her to give him answers, and then he'll drag her in... "I can smell blood. What happened?"
"Should have gotten cleaned up before dropping by," says Nat with a shrug. "I couldn't wait though, I knew you'd be worried."
"I am worried. And I would like to know," he says, brushing his lips against her jaw this time, "what happened?"
She shudders in his arms, arching her back. Bingo.
"I take the fifth," Natasha grins.
"When are you ever gonna trust me with these things?" He half-whines. "I tell you everything. Come on."
"Mmm," hums Natasha, and she wraps her arms around him. "Well, there may have been a flash grenade involved. Followed by some actual grenades."
"Oh, really."
"Yeah. Shrapnel everywhere. It's not a nice story; you wouldn't wanna hear it."
"But I do," says Matt, nuzzling her gently. "It's, uh, important to the case. I want the whole truth, and nothing but the truth..." This time he's in control, and this time it's her belt that comes undone in his hands, but rather than fall to the floor in a silky heap like the tie it clunks against the floorboards clumsily. He winces, feeling the vibration of the impact through his soles, feeling the sound rush through his ears.
Natasha doesn't mind. She remains aggravatingly steadfast. "I take the fifth."
"Honey, that's not really how it works."
"Oh yeah?" She whispers in his ear, "sue me."
And in a final act of betrayal, she lifts his red glasses off his face and tosses them onto the dining table.
He retaliates by lifting her off her feet, sweeping her into his room and tossing her onto the bed.
Nat yelps in protest and for once, Matt's caught the Black Widow by surprise. He finally leans in for a real kiss, melting into her with her fingers tangling in his hair, and for a second nothing exists-- just Natasha, and the heat and light he feels growing between them.
When he pulls away Natasha's shaking her hair out of her eyes as she sits up on the comforter and says, contentedly, "Wow, I've missed you."
"Yeah," he replies. "I missed you too." But when he runs his hands along her sides she makes the slightest gasp and withdraws, just a little, to the left.
"Uh-uh," Matt says cautiously. "That feels sore."
"It's a bruise," she says defensively.
"They got you or did you just fall over?"
He feels her lips thinning. "I take the fifth."
Matt chuckles dryly. "Well, let me work it out then." He traces his fingertips over her catsuit, "if it hurts all the way up till here, I'm guessing...somebody kicked you?"
"I take the fifth."
"Nasty. Then again, must've been the impact of your body on the ground." He slides in next to her, "Grenade went off, you hit the floor...hit it a little too hard..."
"I take the fifth," Natasha repeats. Her fingers tug at the hem of his shirt impatiently.
"I am trying to help you out here."
"You don't have to," she says, and cups the side of his jaw in her free palm like his face is the Holy Grail or something (and as far as Nat's concerned, it fucking is.) "I was fine from the moment you held me when I came in." Again with the kiss, but this time it's different; it's chaste, innocent, as pure as a woman like she can muster, and it buzzes over Matt's lips like white noise in his brain.
He had no idea she still had that in her. He resolves to hold onto it.
"So I'm never really gonna find out what's up with the bruise, then?" Matt says softly, as she starts to push his blazer off his shoulders. "Or the blood under your fingernails? Or why your boots are caked with...is that sand? White sand?"
He can feel Natasha gasp just a little bit; surprised and impressed and very, very turned on. But she just smiles and says, "I take the fifth."
"Fine." Matt closes his eyes and opens his mouth against hers. "No further questions, your honor."