FUGACIOUS

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NATASHA'S POV-

Our lips meet hastily, sweet passion invading every better judgement.

Our minds intertwining as we become one, lost in our high, like a fix for an addiction, the taste of her lips soothing all my fears.

Vulnerability had never seemed safe, that was until now, I felt her hands slip under my shirt running up my back and all of a sudden I felt like I was home... home for the very first time.

The wild fire of desire burning in my stomach compelled me to keep going despite knowing now was not the best time.

I lift my arms above my head as she pull off my shirt, letting it fall to the floor gently.

Though we may lie, there's nothing but honesty and trust in the glances we share. Her eyes flicker down my body, a gentle smile lifting her lips.

She crosses her arms over her torso gripping at the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, her soft hair falling messily back into place.

She holds on to my hands placing them around her waist "touch me." She whispers.

Intoxicated by her voice, her beauty, her perfume dancing around the atmosphere I confess "I want you." I speak softly against her lips.

"Show me how much you want me." She whispers quietly and yet she says the words so confidently, so sure of herself , no regretful look on her face.

My hand falls down the front of her stomach just about to slip into the waistband of her jeans.

Banging against the front door startles us apart, "Natasha Romanoff it's the FBI could you open the door."

She quickly picks up our shirts from the floor passing mine to me for us to cover ourselves up.

My eyes dart between Y/N and the door "What did you do Y/N?" I ask worriedly. Scared that maybe, just maybe, she'd contacted someone before I'd even realised.

Her eyes quickly glance over me, her expression just asstartled as my own "I didn't do anything." She points down to the smashed phone one the floor.

"Natasha Romanoff this is your last chance, open up the door." A man speaks from the other side of the door.

"Natasha you have to open the door!" Y/N hurries me to unlock the door.

"Miss Romanoff we'd like you to come in for questioning." The man speaks, as I look up to his eyes I recognise the man as Agent Davies.

"Well I wouldn't like to come in for questioning." I retort.

I keep the door closed half way to block the view of Y/N.

"I'm sorry Miss Romanoff but I wasn't really asking per say, It's more of an order." He says proudly.

"Then why ask me to begin with?"

"Stop with the smart remarks, I need you to get in the car now."

"I just need to do something one moment."

"Miss Romanoff I have reason to believe you were involved in the murder of Mr Russo so no, no I can't wait a moment." He pauses.

"Natasha Romanoff you are under arrest for the suspicion of murder in the first degree. You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you may later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence," he continues "you have the right to a lawyer if you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you."

Surly he can't do this.

He flips my body round my arms are pulled behind my back into cuffs.

"Agent Davies is this necessary?" Y/N bursts round the door and for the first time all day she hides her feelings from everyone completely.

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