Chapter Text
“I’ve got eyes on the target. It’s heading south, into the main room.” The communicator in her ear came to live with the familiar voice of Clint Barton. He had taken residence on the gangway, leading from one exhibition to the next. The Hawk in his nest yet again.
Natasha tapped her manicured finger against the earpiece twice, activating it.
“Copy, I’ll engage. Colson can you lead him towards the bar?”
While she was talking the Agent left her place by the window and started walking towards said location. Her movements were fluid and graceful, while her face was full of wonder towards the paintings displayed throughout the gallery.
Natasha wore an elegant black dress, specs of glitter and rhinestone flowed down towards the hem, creating the effect of stars blinking in the dark of night. Her vibrant red curls had been straightened and braided into an updo she deemed suitable, but impractical. The whole look screamed Disney princess and while this was appropriate to convey the persona she embodied tonight perfectly in her opinion it was utterly ridiculous.
Clint had noted as much and earned himself a punch in return.
On her way towards the bar, Natasha let her face become one of awe and wonder. A perfect mask for the spoiled daughter of a newly rich family. A quick nod to Colson who had just closed a door infront of ther targets nose and a knowing smile returned led her onwards to her final destination and that was were the fun began.
“Do you know where he’s keeping the codes, Hawky?” Natasha whispered softly into the com while she motioned the bartender for a drink and blatantly being ignored by non-other then Agent Melinda May.
The voice in her ear scoffed and Natasha couldn’t hide a small grin forming on her lips and disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared.
“Left pocket, inside his suit jacket. And how many times do I need to tell you not to call me that?” Natasha was just about to respond when a new voice entered into their conversation.
“Kids, please stop fighting before I have to call your Father.” Colson’s warning tone was enough to make Natasha huff in frustration, leaning onto the bar a few paces away from their target. Showtime!
“What does a girl have to do to get a simple drink in this place? I mean, seriously I’ve been standing here for half an hour.” The redhead exclaimed managing to sound both annoyed and desperate. Natasha knew she caught the targets eye before. She had made sure of that throughout the night.
In the corner of her eye she could make out a movement, similar to hers, but instead of ignoring it like earlier, May jumped into action with a charming smile plastered on her face. Once the man had acquired to glasses of champagne he started moving towards the redhead.
“Well, I would be happy to share mine. I happen to have a spare.” The man in front of her seemed to be in his late thirties, tall and lean with a smart suit and neatly combed hair.
He looked nothing like a person smuggling stolen weapons, but then most bad guys rarely do.
Natasha accepted the glass gratefully offering a flirtatious smile in return. “Thank you…err. I’m sorry, I don’t think we have been introduced. Natalie Turner.” She extended a hand towards him.
The man took her hand in his and led it up to his lips. The gesture alone made Natasha want to recoil and ram his elbow into the bridge of his nose.
“It’s a pleasure. Natalie. David Smith.” His accent was smooth and Oxfordian, but Natasha could make out the rougher notes of Scottland in his tone. He was good, but she was better.
“Well then, David. To a wonderful night.” Natasha clincked her glass against his and took a sip of the bubbly beverage.
Soon Natasha had him eating out of her hand. David liked to hear himself talk so she listened patiently and complimented him on every achievement he laid open to her. Her hand was never empty as the target kept ordering drink after drink for the both of them.
Natasha thanked her Russian heritage that she didn’t get drunk easily and after four glasses of champagne and a few martinis David was slightly slurring his words while the agents mind was still clear and sharp.
“Romanoff the clock is ticking.” Colson’s voice echoed through the com and as Natasha reached over to grab her drink she slipped and spilled her drink all over David’s jacket.
It was the oldest spy trick in the book, but still surprisingly effective.
Her companion yelped. “Can’t you be more careful, damnit?!” he yelled at the redhead and Natasha slid off her chair clumsily and started wiping his shirt with a napkin. “Oh my gosh! I am so sorry, David. Please. It was an accident.” She let a giggle escape her throat still miming the drunk girl.
While David caused a scene her hand slid into the inside pocket of his suit and slipped the USB-Stick out of his pocket, replacing it with a fake in the blink of an eye. Natasha stumbled forward, now spilling the targets drink on herself.
“Seriously, oh my… I must have had a bit more than I can handle.” Her eyes were wide, innocent, her speech slurred. “You don’t say!” David commented harshly while Natasha already excused herself and stumbled in the direction of the Bathroom.