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Distractions

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Natasha smiles as she feels the ticklish brush of Pepper's mouth on her wrist.

"Have to work harder than that to distract me," she says, continuing to type her post-mission report. Doombots were temporarily neutralised after a vat of beer exploded over them. (Make: Budweiser. Unclear if effect was brand-specific.)

"I like a challenge," Pepper murmurs, and slides her mouth upwards, stopping again when she reaches the crook of Natasha's elbow.

Natasha continues typing, her keystrokes even. Investigate possible uses of alcohol and/or hops in combating robotic hostiles - job for Stark and Banner?

Pepper places her hand against the curve of Natasha's back, small and warm. She kisses Natasha's shoulder, and Natasha finds herself hitting the backspace bar, frowning in irritation as she weeds out an unexpected typo.

"Take your time," Pepper says sweetly, licking Natasha's skin and blowing cool air across.

Natasha doesn't shiver; she's too disciplined for that. Pepper laughs anyway, like she knows she's getting through and is far too pleased with herself about it. Natasha keeps typing, coolly recording her observations about Doombots and battle strategies and the current psychological states of her teammates. (All members of the Avengers behaving within normal parameters as laid out by previous reports. Note: Stark is gradually becoming less combative and more willing to work as part of a team.)

"Aw, you're giving Tony good grades?" Pepper says, resting her chin on Natasha's shoulder.

"This is a confidential document," says Natasha.

"Really now," says Pepper. She kisses Natasha's neck, slow and soft.

"I'll have to question you," Natasha says. "Find out how much of our intel you've seen, assess whether you're a threat or not."

Pepper kisses Natasha's cheek and scrapes her teeth against the angle of Natasha's jawline. "Ooh, Agent Romanov," she says, "is that a promise?"

Natasha saves her file to the server, and emails the document to Fury and Hill over a secure connection. If she's particularly terse in the body of the email, well, she's a busy woman.

She closes the lid of her laptop and puts it down on the table. She turns to face Pepper, controlled and composed.

"Now then, Ms Potts," she says. "Shall we begin your interrogation?"

Pepper fakes a swoon. "I thought you'd never ask." She kneels up, smiling, and then her lush red mouth slides against Natasha's.

Natasha pulls her in close and allows herself to be distracted entirely.