#foreplay?

You got the dream job you wanted! But it took you to a brand new country away from everyone you knew.

Your girlfriend, who you planned to propose to, was happy for you! But she wasn't happy enough to stay.

You got a cat! A pet you always wanted! But it turns out it wasn't a stray. It was your neighbor's cat who loved to wander the streets.

So yeah. These last six months haven't been your brightest time. But you tried to be a glass-half-empty person: greener pastures and all that jazz.

So when your neighbor with the whore of a cat moved out, you were determined to become friends with whoever moved in.

Oh yeah, you also needed friends...

So the day you were walking up the stairs to your apartment and, a redhead you've never seen before whizzed by you. You got excited! But before you could even open your mouth, they were gone.

Okay. They're speedy, you noted. You'll catch 'em next time.

Except you didn't. Because unbeknownst to you, the redhead didn't just get home late. They got back home past 4 in the morning. Hair flowing in different directions. Her leather jacket scuffed up as if she was in a bar fight. The bruises on her face would give that impression, too. Plus, she was quiet.

So quiet that you failed to notice that the redhead had been living in her new home for three days prior.

She would roll her eyes at that word. Home. Sure, the apartment was very nice. Had all the parts she needed. But she didn't care where she was stashed as long as she got the job done. Plus, home wasn't a word for her. It never existed in her eyes.

Well, maybe once, but.. never mind.

"Clint, I got the intel, but I'm gonna need a few more days." Your neighbor spoke into her flip phone with such conviction. "Look, the guys I'm tracking can lead to something bigger. Just give me a few more days. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. I'll be waiting for his call." She threw her phone down onto the round wooden dining room table before bending back into the uncomfortable chair.

She knew she should get up. Go take a hot shower. Bandage up her knuckles and tend to her bruises. But with each blink happening in rapid succession. The redhead fell asleep while sitting upright in a chair that her back would curse for years to come.

Across the hall, hours later, you had already gone on your Saturday walk, had your breakfast, showered, and not so subtly waited for any signs of life coming from the woman you saw once. Was it weird? Maybe. Maybe yes. But even you would admit you were desperate for a friend. Or anybody who wasn't stuck in a screen when you wanted to talk. Plus, she was pretty. Or so you think. She had a cap on and dark glasses when you saw her yesterday, but her jacket looked incredible, and she had cute pink lips.

Not that you noticed!!

So, with it creeping closer to early afternoon, you decided to take the initiative. Standing here in front of her door, you were about to knock when a voice stopped you. "Excuse me." Turning to your right, you were met with a tall, broad, shouldered man. Black hair. Dressed in black. The vibe you were feeling wasn't right. Back in the States, you would guess he worked for the mob. "Yes?" You asked, looking him up and down.

"Sorry to bother you. But I'm having trouble finding my friend. She says she lives in this building, but I can't seem to find her. About this tall." He raises his hands just past your head. "Red hair." Oh shit. "She has a if looks could kill kinda attitude as well." He forces out a chuckle you know to be fake. But you fake laugh with him. Afraid of what will happen if he knows you've seen her or if he finds her.

"Wow, she sounds like quite the character. But no, I'm sorry, I haven't seen anyone like that here." You lie through your teeth. Something you don't like to do, but you're just hoping he doesn't notice. "Oh really?" The man's face turns from a fake smile to a fake frown. "Yeah, I'm really sorry." You shrug. You think that'll be it too. Thinking the man will leave with a simple no, I don't know her. But he's a man. They take no for an answer.

"Are you sure? Because I thought maybe this was her place?" He points to the door you're both in front of. You look from his eyes to the door. Shit. Think! "Oh no." You shake your head. "I mean, unless your friend turned into an old woman with a tabby cat who has a knack for playing gin rummy every Tuesday night, then I don't think so. The woman plays cards, not that cat! Although maybe we could teach him-"

"Okay, sorry to bother you." Without another question or look from the man, he turns his back to you and starts walking down the stairs. Frustrated with the answer you gave. Quietly, you move closer to the banister as he descends, hoping he'll prove his real intentions for being here. To your surprise, he does when he reaches the bottom floor.

"Yeah, I checked. She's not here, but..." His voice fades out as you faintly hear the doors to your building open and close. Turning around now, you have a different mindset about the woman across the hall. Before, you were simply going to ask if they had any allergies you needed to know about. Because you planned on making them homemade bread. Banana, to be specific. Well, if she could eat it. But now that was the last thing on your mind. When you looked at the door now, you can't help but feel bad for how much trouble she seems to be in. Taking a few steps closer, you ready yourself to knock on it again. Hoping to find answers.

"Okay, knock in 3..2..." Before you can even process 1, the door opens, and you get pulled into the room with a force you've never felt. Firm hands grip themselves to your arm before turning your body around in a flash so they have a hold around your waist. Keeping your face away from seeing them. You feel her body against yours, quickly short-circuiting your brain before the loud slam of the front door snaps you out of your thoughts.

Scanning the room around as quickly as possible while your neighbor holds you tight from moving, you see things you've never seen before. Files spread across the room in another language—a sniper positioned in the window and lots and lots of spy stuff.

Shit. Shit! This woman was dangerous.

"кто ты?" (Who are you?) The same woman barks, making your eyes go wide at the foreign language used and how lovely her raspy voice sounds. "кто ты!?" She barks again before pushing the backs of your knees out from under you so you fall to the floor. Arms pinned behind you. Fuck that's really going to hurt tomorrow, you think. Wait, if there is a tomorrow!

You rack your brain, trying to think of what she could be saying and what proper response would be beneficial for this particular moment, but your mind keeps getting distracted as the roaming hands of the woman keep touching you.

The redhead above you didn't get a good look before pulling you in, or she would see that there is no way you could be a threat. "Šíření!" (Spread!) She tries a different language, Czech, to be exact. Yet you still don't know it. You don't know any other language aside from English and the little bit of Hungarian you've been learning since you moved.

So her order for you to spread goes right over your head. Maybe if she asked nicely in English, you've complied...

"Oh my god, what are you doing?" You ask as the grip tightens around your wrists and the feeling of her fingers slides along your thighs. But you get nothing in return, only frustrated grunts from the woman holding you down, finding nothing on your person.

"Please, I'm sorry. Just let me go, and I'll pretend I didn't see anything or that I didn't enjoy-"

"Shut up!" Finally! English! She speaks it! "Ow! Fuck! You speak English?!"

"Who are you? What do you want?" Her fingers run through your hair, digging into your scalp before she grabs hold and lifts your head up. "Answer me!"

Remember what I said? Ups and downs.

"I'm sorry. Shit. I- I'm just your neighbor from across the h-hall.. fuck.." The small moan that escaped your mouth could've been mistaken for a groan of pain caused by the redhead.

But Natasha Romanoff knew better.

She knew exactly what that noise that left your mouth meant. Which also confirmed what she was thinking. You weren't a threat.

She loosened her grip on your hair but kept tight around your wrists. "Name? Give me a name." Her tone is softer and not as harsh.

"Mine?" You asked, confused by the whole situation. "Obviously." The spy rolled her eyes but had to hide the smirk, forcing its way onto her mouth.

"Y/N Y/L/N!" You answered honestly. Natasha could tell it was honest, too. Your rapid pulse she had her fingers pressed against didn't waver anymore than it already had by the older woman being on top of you. "And no one sent you?"

She began to loosen the grip she had on you as a whole.

"What?! No one sent me to check up on my neighbor. But Goddamn, this is the last time I'll do that." Natasha thought for a minute as your breathing began to calm down. "KGB? Hydra? MI6? Ring any bells?"

"No, I swear." Natasha thinks again. "Okay." Her voice goes back to a normal volume. One you find delightful even in this particular situation. "I'm going to let you go. Don't do anything stupid." She warns with a smile.

"Okay. I'll try not to." You say knowing you were prone to have stupid things happen to you. "Just please don't hurt me." You mumbled, but Natasha doesn't respond. Instead, she lifts herself off your body, removes her hand from your hair, and lets go of your wrist, which will completely have bruises tomorrow.

Once you feel the air touch your skin again, you crawl a few feet away before turning over.

You like to think that the first thing you laid your eyes on was the redheads apologetic smile, but it wasn't. It was her green eyes. You swear you had never seen anything more beautiful until you looked down the rest of her body. "You're beautiful." You let slip. Surprising the woman staring back at you.

Except she wasn't stupid. Instead of opening her mouth, Natasha kept those those words on the inside.

You're beautiful.

"Oh my God, ignore that. I'm sorry! Does that count as a stupid thing?!" You panicked, only earning a tight smirk from the redhead. "I'll let that one slide." She gets up and walks past you. Leaving you on the floor. "Besides, you're not so bad yourself."

You're brain short circuits for the second time in the last five minutes. Pretty spy dangerous lady called me beautiful?! You couldn't muster any more thoughts, so instead, you turn your gaze to the woman, watching her as she starts packing up. "What are you doing?"

"Packing."

"Why you just got here? Plus, what was that whole thing? Attacking me? Hello?" Natasha stops packing and looks at you. "No one is supposed to know I'm here. Within three days, I've been comprised by my neighbor from across the hall. I can't take the risk." Natasha says point blank while effortlessly avoiding your other questions.

You're not sure how to respond to that. But you know that you should probably get up off the floor. So you do that as the woman goes back to packing. She starts with clothes before moving on to guns. Lots of guns. "Whoa."

You take in all that you're seeing. "Who are you..." You felt the need to ask the unaskable question. "A person you shouldn't try and fuck with." She answers without any sense that she's joking until she winks at you.

Oh, you wanted to moan all over again.

"Should I leave?" You say to disrupt her and the growing silence. "Not yet. I still need answers from you. And to make sure that if you're ever asked. You never saw me." You nod, following along to her words. "Okay." You take a step forward, thinking it'd be a stupid thing to take a step back towards the door.

"Good." She says before dialing someone with a phone, you haven't seen in years. "Go secure. I need a cross reference on the person occupying the apartment across the hall from me. Give me everything. Bank records. Death certificates. Occupation. Everything. You have five." She flips the phone closed and sets it down before her eyes lock on you.

"I need you to sit in this chair for me." She pulls out the chair directly in front of her and her belongings. You would typically agree what, given the situation and the sight of her left hand on the grip of a pistol. But instead: "No."

"What did I say about doing something stupid." The woman groans, making you smile. Just a little over the tiny amount of control you have at the moment. "I'm not sitting on the chair until you give me your name. And the reason."

"You do realize I'm the one holding the gun, right?" You nod. Terrified of guns, but you nod as she waves it in front of you. "I do. But you're not going to shoot me or anything because, from what I just heard. You're waiting on your friend to see if I'm telling the truth, but I have no reason to lie to you."

Natasha couldn't believe what she just heard out of the mouth of that sweet little face. Here's the kicker. You're right. Natasha honestly hates that you have the upper hand at the moment, but Natasha's the Black Widow. She can flip the script as easy as one.. two.. "Please. Be a good girl and get in the chair."

You've never sat in a chair so fast in your life.

In fact, the second your butt hit the wood, you were mentally cursing your legs for betraying you. "How did you do that?!" You looked to her green eyes for an answer, but you both knew. "Alright, fine. Can I at least get a name?" You huffed as she gently handcuffed your hand to hers.

"Natalie." She replied as if that was her real name. But you took it for face value, even throwing Natasha a "thank you."

"What's that?" You asked, pointing at a pile of small silver discs. "Oh, don't touch those." She quickly moves them away from your reach. "They'll electrically shock you and leave you incapacitated." Okay. Good to know. "No touch, got it." You dryly chuckled, earning one from the woman who had no issues being handcuffed to you.

"How many languages do you speak?" You figured if you're going to be waiting, you might as well get to know Natalie. "Do you want to guess?" She smirks at you as she puts away her laptop. "Ummm, five?" You look up for an answer but only receive a shake of the head. "More than five?"

"More than 10, dear."

10?! Dear!?!

"Wow." You mutter. "What about you?" Natasha feels the need to ask. Plus, she wants to know more about the young woman she's handcuffed to. "I'm sure you'll find out when your friend calls back."

"Yeah, but I want to hear it from you." You look up to see her already smiling at you, forcing a shade of pink to sneak onto your cheeks. "Umm, it's not nearly as impressive. But one." You meekly answer, earning a chuckle from Natalie. "You're right.. that's not nearly as impressive."

"Hey!" You groan and whine. "It's two on a good day if I can understand what the vendor down the street says. It's not easy learning Hungarian."

Natasha nods. "You're right. It's not easy. But you picked the perfect city to learn it." You have to agree with her.

"You're right. Budapest is wonderful."

"Budapesht." Natasha can't help but correct you. "Huh?" You look to her, who looks down on you like an English teacher. "Budapesht." She repeats. "That's how you should pronounce it." You shake your head "No. It's Budapest. Your way is wrong."

"No, my way is right. It's Budapesht. You just don't know any better." You scoff, which Natasha takes as a sign to go on the attack. "Oh really?!" She starts. "I'm sorry, but who in the room is the world-class spy, and who is the.. the.. the whatever it is you do!?" She looks at you, who stutters for a moment.

"That's what I thought."

You go to fight back. Which frankly is an unwise move, but you're thankfully interrupted by the sound of the flip phone ringing.

Natasha answers it with urgency. "Clint, you're on speaker; which is it, Budapest or Budapesht??"

"Oh God no. Please stop this. Take me off speaker."

You watch Natalie roll her eyes as she takes the man, Clint, off of speaker. "Okay, shoot your arrow. What have you got for me." Natasha yanks on the handcuff, pulling you to make you look up at her. She holds a finger to her lips with a look in her eyes that you read as "Don't be stupid."

You not as she sets the phone down in the middle of the table on speaker.

"Okay, so Y/N Y/L/N. Born in California. Yadda yadda. Excellent student. Blah, blah, blah. University. Bank is in the green. No sign of trouble. Oh. Is the daughter of two former shield scientists before they lost their lives in a fire. Not Ohio. No Hydra connections either."

Clint quickly adds, confusing you.

What's shield?

"Relationships, let's see... looks like her most recent ex is one Gewn Stacy, and before that it was... Kate Bishop. The second one sounds familiar... Anyways, occupation.. occupation.. Stark Industries. Relocated to where she currently is. Moved into the apartment across from you six months ago. Isn't one to cause trouble. No arrest records or complaints of any kind. I can't find anything else on her. She's clean. Looks like you got a golden retriever living across from you, Nat."

The man finishes up before Natalie or Nat picks the phone up. "Okay, thanks, Clint. Yeah, no, I'm sure she won't be any trouble." Nat looks at you with a smirk, making you shift in your seat.

"Yep. Uh-huh. No. Could you not mention it to Fury? I got it. Okay. No, it's Budapesht. Bye." She clicks the phone shut and looks at you with a smile before laughing. "What?" You ask as you start to smile. "Nothing." She says before she controls her laughter. "No, come on. What!" You plead as Natalie picks up the key to the handcuffs. "It's just... I attacked you earlier because I thought you were dangerous, and here I have handcuffed to me is the most prett- perfect, sweetest person ever, apparently." The pink hue on Nat's cheeks gets missed by you.

You laugh at Natalie's explanation as the cuff slips from your wrist. "Well, I must be scary a little bit. Plus, I think I'm really good at lying!" You fess up. "Not to me, you're not," Nat calls you out. "And you're not scary." She picks up her bag and moves it to the counter to pack her suit.

Now it's your turn to roll your eyes. "Well, I have to be good at one of those things." You say as you get up and follow her around the kitchen and into the living room. "Why is that?" Nat is curious as to what you're answer could be.

"Well, how else would I have gotten rid of that guy earlier?!"

Natasha wasn't expecting that. "What guy?" She turns to you with a stern, calculating look. "Th-the guy. Tall. He was outside your door. Asking about you. I sent him away." Natasha shakes her head and rubs to her bag, grabbing two pistols. "How long ago?"

"What?" You question. Nat runs past you. "How long ago was the guy here?"

"I-uh.." Since Nat's hands and sweet voice were all over and around your body, you truly lost any concept of time.

Nat ignored your non-answer as she looks out the window where her sniper is positioned before turning to you with a worried look.

"Y/N GET DOWN!"

Yeah, there will be a pt2 in the future.