Black Widow: Her Own Game (Part 1)

Sharon Carter was entering the code to enter a security door, when another explosion rocked the Helecarrier, knocking her hand awry.

“Pass code denied,” the door told her, “Another incorrect entry will seal this door.”

“Damnit,” Agent Carter hissed, starting the code again.

Hydra had never been this bold before. Though their new leadership had proved more aggressive, a direct attack on the Helecarrier was not the typical modus operandi for a shadow organization. What that meant to Sharon was that though they wouldn’t mind if they blew SHIELD’s mobile headquarters out of the sky, they were actually after something else. And she had a shrewd idea of what it was.

After hitting the correct keycode, the security door opened and Agent Carter hurried through. The room she entered was lit by glowing tiles in the ceiling and the floor, making it seem like a giant tanning bed. Metal cylinders were lined up in rows, thick metal containers surrounded by forcefields that would resist everything from blow torches to plastic explosives.

Or they would have been, if someone hadn’t turned them off.

Agent Carter immediately drew her sidearm from her thigh holster and scanned the room. Even with all hands on deck defending against the Hydra attack, there should have been guards in this room. The protocol for removing artifacts from these containers was to lower one forcefield at a time, they were never meant to all be lowered at once. She had been right; there was something going on here.

Leveling her pistol, she leaned to peer past several cylinder-safes. She couldn’t see anyone, but there were too many places to hide for her to be sure. This room was supposed to be entirely sealed from the rest of the carrier, the glowing panels in the floor and ceiling doubling as heat and body weight sensors. It was impossible for anyone to get in here except through the security door, but she was trained to expect the impossible. She wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Sabre Actual,” she said into her collar-mic, “This is Agent Carter. Need backup to Secure Containment section 1. I repeat, need backup immediately.”

Sharon slowly backed up the way she came, her eyes still scanning the room. If there was an incursion here, it was probably a team of enemy operatives and she didn’t plan on taking them on alone. She wasn’t about to go wandering through the maze of containers trying to find them.

“Sabre Actual,” she said again, “This is Agent Carter. Need backup to Containment Section 1. Repeat, Containment section 1.”

There was a moment of static before the person on the other line answered.

“Agent Carter,” a distant explosion turned the transmission to static for a moment, “Agent Carter, we’re a bit busy here. What’s the situation?”

“Probable infiltration by hostile operatives,” she said, “Unknown number. Possible—”

The young SHIELD backed right into a cold metal barrel, pressing against the back of her skull.

She froze, heart leaping into her throat. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Everything around her was thrown into sharp focus as her adrenaline spiked, but all that rush of energy did was to make her heart pound in her ears.

Someone had put a gun to the back of her head. She was less than a second from death.

“Agent Carter, your transmission was interrupted,” said Saber Actual, “Repeat, what is the situation?”

Sharon barely heard them. Her senses were focused entirely on the gun to her head, waiting to feel a slight shift of the trigger pull, or perhaps the click of the hammer being released, before the bang that would make everything go black.

Whoever was holding the gun didn’t speak. They kept the barrel just where it was, level and unwavering, the hard metal pressed against the back of Sharon’s head. It stayed there for what felt like an eternity, cold and uncompromising, promising instantaneous death.

After an endless, breathless second, a hand was laid on Sharon’s shoulder, palm up.

“Listen now, lemon drop,” said a cool feminine voice, “Take the barrel of your pistol with two fingers, give it to me handle first.”

Sharon closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down. Whoever this woman was, she was a professional. If she wanted Sharon dead, she would have already pulled the trigger. It wasn’t the most palatable option, but if she did as she was told she’d likely survive.

Remembering her training, she released her breath and took another.

“Fine,” she said, making sure she was speaking into her mic as she did so, “Whatever you want.”

Slowly lowering her pistol, she moved one hand from the grip to pinch the end between thumb and forefinger. Remaining otherwise entirely still, she placed the pistol into the woman’s hand, handle first, as instructed.

Her attacker’s fingers closed on it and she drew it from Sharon’s grasp.

The moment she did so, men in gleaming green suits stepped out of their hiding places behind various containers. Sharon’s eyes darted around as she counted at least a dozen Hydra agents, all armed. They wore something that looked like silver backpacks she didn’t recognize, but suspected were to collect the materials inside the containers.

“Thank you,” the woman said, “Now, hands behind your head, please. Interlace your fingers.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sharon replied, hoping Saber Actual was reading her and picked up something was wrong.

She reached behind her head and placed her hands together just under her blonde ponytail, lacing her fingers together as directed.

Sharon swallowed. The rest of the Hydra agents were moving towards her now and the odds she was about to be taken prisoner seemed very high. She didn’t know what Hydra did with captured SHIELD agents, but she preferred being a prisoner to being dead.

Still, the more information she could get to Saber Actual, the better chance they’d have of stopping whatever Hydra was planning.

“H-how did you get in here?” she asked, “There’s no way…”

Sharon trailed off as the woman reached over her shoulder, pinched the mic on her collar and slipped it free. The movement was smooth and unhesitant; her captor knew exactly where it had been hidden.

“Such a curious girl,” the woman purred, “Just relax, now. Your part in this little game is over.”

Sharon began to feel small as the other Hydra agents surrounded her, watching her with cold eyes. A few of them sneered, looking her up and down.

“Bad luck for you, blondie,” one chuckled, his eyes twinkling with malice.

Her female captor ignored him. She reached up to take Sharon’s ponytail then let the silky fibers slide through her fingers.

“Turn around, my little agent,” she said, “These gentlemen are going to put some restraints on you. Stay very still and quiet.”

So, she was a prisoner then. It would have been a relief if it weren’t so humiliating.

Sharon turned in place, hands still on her head, back to the male agents. One of them drew her hands behind her and clicked them into cuffs while Sharon got her first look at the green-haired woman that had gotten the drop on her. She looked the woman up and down, memorizing details that might come in handy later.

“Put her with the others, milady?” one of the men asked.

The woman’s angular eyes narrowed, her shining green lips turning up into a playful grin.

“This one is pretty, clever, and brave,” she purred, “No. I have just the place for her in my collection.”

The restraints were locked on quickly and efficiently, leaving Sharon’s wrists crossed behind her back. She tensed as the woman slid both hands over her shoulders and clasped them behind her neck. The villainess leaned close, grinning mischievously into Sharon’s eyes.

“Besides,” the lady said, “She’s already so obedient. She’ll be helping us get into these vaults much faster than we planned.”

Sharon’s eyes flashed at that, her lips tightening. She was eager to be a prisoner as opposed to being murdered, but she wasn’t going to help them. Not even if it meant her own life.

“Never going to happen, lady,” she glared.

The woman seemed to enjoy that, her smile broadening.

“Never say never, pet,” she drew closer, “You belong to Hydra now.”

Sharon flinched but kept her gaze level, unintimidated.

Her captor’s lips approached her own.

“More importantly, you belong to me.”

* * *

As the personnel on the Helecarrier’s command bridge worked furiously at their posts, Nick Fury stood at the helm, glaring at his view screen. At this point everything he could do from the captain’s chair had already been done, any major orders he could give would only distract his crew from their jobs. He let them work, brooding with his fists resting on his console, thinking about the bigger picture.

There were three attacking helecraft, smaller but well-armed, like destroyers to his ship’s aircraft carrier. They had appeared from nowhere scored some major hits to the Helecarrier, limiting her ability to launch fighters. Now a desperate dogfight was occurring in the air around them between SHIELD and their attackers’ fighter escort. Boarding parties had attacked the upper decks and there were heavy firefights occurring on several levels.

Yet as dire as this threat was, Fury smelled a ploy. He was also fairly certain of their real objective; he wasn’t the head of the world’s premier spy organization for nothing.

“Director Fury,” a female voice said in his ear, “We may have a situation in the Secure Containment Section.”

Another explosion rocked the Helecarrier as one of her surface guns was destroyed.

“That seems to be going around, Agent Hill,” Fury replied into his collar mic, “Report.”

“Saber team reports Agent Carter requested backup from Secure Containment Section 1,” Fury’s second in command told him, “Agent Carter went silent shortly into the distress call. They believe she has been captured or killed by a team of enemy operatives.”

“Damn…” Fury hissed.

“Sir,” Hill said, “I suspect this attack may be a diversion. We may have an infiltration.”

Fury blew out a long breath, his single eye narrowing. They were moving faster than he expected. They may have even been on the Helecarrier before the attack started. Both thoughts were troubling because they meant he was a step behind. That was something he couldn’t afford, not in this business.

“Sir?” Hill said after a moment’s silence.

“Don’t worry, Agent Hill. I’m aware of the situation and already have someone on their way to resolve it.”

“SomeONE? Who?”

Fury smiled, an expression both rare and feral.

“You know who.”

* * *

Agents Werner and Schroder, formerly of SHIELD, lately of Hydra, stood guard in front of what looked like a large flat screen TV, set on its side and resting against a bulkhead. Dressed in SHIELD combat uniforms, they had all the correct security clearance and knew the right things to say to avoid suspicion, but so far no one had bothered to question them amidst all the excitement.

They were an engineering area of the Helecarrier, not near anything vital so security wasn’t as tight. Through the bulkhead and several yards of steel was the Secure Containment Area and their objective. The device they were guarding had allowed the team through and would allow them back out when they were done. It wasn’t the most exciting part of the mission, but it was vitally important. The two men were alert, already having a spot to hide the bodies if someone got a little too curious.

It didn’t help them in the slightest.

“You boys get lost from your troupe?” a feminine voice said.

Startled, the two men raised their submachine guns and turned to and fro, searching for the intruder. They never considered looking above them.

A figure in sleek black landed between them and kicked Werner’s legs out from under him before he knew she was there.

“Holy—” Schroder cried out, whirling to level his weapon.

Their attacker caught the gun’s barrel before it could be brought to bear, elbowed Schroder in the jaw, then yanked the weapon from his startled grasp and cracked it across Werner’s head before he could get up, knocking him flat.

Werner stayed still.

Schroder staggered from the blow to his head, but produced a wicked, backward curving blade as if by magic.

His attacker simply fired a burst from the submachine gun into his chest plate. The Hydra agent grunted and was knocked flat, like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. His helmet banged off the metal floor and a boot stomped down on the wrist of the hand holding the knife, breaking it with a wet crack.

On his back, wheezing, and snarling in pain, Schroder got his first good look at his attacker.

The woman had chin length red hair with lazy gray eyes, her features porcelain smooth. She cocked her hip as she stood on his wrist, full lips quirked in a playful grin that didn’t affect the rest of her face, sassily confident. Defeating him and his partner hadn’t been difficult for her, it had been fun.

“Nice doohickey you have here,” her voice was low and feminine, like honey mixed in whiskey, “Mind telling a lady how it works?”

Schroder’s pace quickened as he realized who he was looking at.

This agent wore a modified SHIELD uniform, made of a snug, matte black material that looked like leather but flexed like spandex. Her body belonged on the side of a WW2 era bomber, athletic and curving with a ripe chest and flaring hips, jutted to one side to show rounded flanks. A wide belt with a red hourglass buckle was tight around her waist, while a pistol belt lined with tools hung more rakishly on her hips, a pistol strapped to each thigh.

If none of that were enough to give away her identity, only one person wore the signature bracelets covered by what looked like belts of high caliber ammunition, painted black and wrapped around her wrists.

The Black Widow.

Schroder glared up at her, “Hail Hydra, bitch.”

He reached for his pistol with his free hand, but she moved before he could get his hand close. She fired a Widow’s Sting dart from her bracelet that lodged in his neck and released an electric charge. The voltage caused him to go rigid, his arm shooting out and away from his pistol, back arching off the ground.

“I thought you might say that.” the Black Widow said, “I’m sure if you geniuses can work it, I can figure it out.”

She kept up the voltage until the Hydra agent’s eyes rolled back and he passed out.

It didn’t take her long to determine the purpose of the flat screen the Hydra goons had been protecting; she’d heard of similar devices before but didn’t know a functional one had been made. What looked like a tv monitor was actually a doorway to a tunnel through a pocket dimension that could be generated to a specific length. The practical application was one could essentially make a doorway in a solid wall, pass through the tunnel and come out the other side, bypassing any solid matter in this world. Based on Director Fury’s intel, she suspected the other end of this doorway opened into the Secure Containment section.

After waving Schroder’s hand through the portal and seeing no ill effects, Natasha made a quick decision. She could simply destroy the device and leave whoever had gone through trapped on the other side, but she couldn’t count on them not having another escape plan. To make sure she stopped them and took prisoners, she’d have to go in herself and she preferred having the element of surprise.

So, after placing a remote explosive, she swaggered through the portal, the seat of her battlesuit shifting with the round shapes beneath.

The pocket dimension wasn’t nearly as exciting as Natasha thought it would be. Expecting something otherworldly and maybe glowing, she found instead that it looked like a small tunnel made of gray cotton candy, puffy like a cloud but solid as rock. She strolled the few yards down the tunnel, plucking out a few ball bearing-sized flash grenades from a pouch on her belt on the way, then poked her head through the gray film that was the doorway out.

As expected, the doorway opened into the Secure Containment Area, where a group of Hydra agents had cracked open several of the containment cylinders and were unloading their glowing contents.

Natasha assessed the situation with a glance. The containment areas held a variety of high value artifacts, but what was being taken from these particular containers was vibranium core samples. The highest grade vibranium, and also the rarest, the little blue rocks being loaded into the agents’ silver backpacks would be worth a fortune, but she doubted Hydra planned on selling them. They probably had another use for them that was less then beneficial to the world at large.

Not waiting for an invitation, Natasha tossed her handful of chrome bombs almost straight up, clattering them off the ceiling and letting them bounce towards her scattered enemies. There were sounds of surprise, then a cry of alarm, just before she drew her head back behind the opening of the portal.

She couldn’t hear or see anything happening in the Containment Room from the tunnel. There was no distant boom, no muffled cries of pain and shock, no flash sneaking its way through the cracks of a door. There were the startled expressions and cries of the enemy agents before she ducked back through the portal, then nothing. She didn’t see the results until she lunged back through the gray veil into the Helecarrier.

When the Black Widow threw herself back into the room, there was a thin haze of smoke in the air and Hydra Agents were picking themselves up off the ground. There were groans, a few men shaking their heads like they didn’t know where they were, blood coming from their ears.

Natasha didn’t give them a chance to recover.

Charging in, she fired darts into the chests of two agents, locking them in place and rigid, then threw her knee into the head of a third as he tried to use a container to stand. One lifted a rifle and she fired a lanyard from her bracelet that snagged the barrel, then yanked the weapon towards her. He maintained his grip but not his footing, staggering towards her and right into a kick that clotheslined him and bounced his skull off the floor.

By the time the fourth Hydra agent hit the deck, the first two collapsed and the others were starting to regain their bearings.

An agent with a strange-looking shotgun tried to level it at her, but she closed and kicked it up into his face, breaking his nose, then snatched the weapon herself and turned it on him. She pressed the barrel into his chest armor and blew the man off his feet, then turned and repeated the process with two others before the weapon went dry. She settled for cracking it across the head of another agent, before throwing it aside altogether.

This all happened in the space of a few seconds. In that time, the remaining Hydra goons were alert enough to attack her, but there were only a few still standing.

Before they could mount a coordinated assault she was among them, cracking heads and breaking bones, until the last one tried to grab her in a choke hold. Scowling in annoyance, she drew her pistol and shot him in the foot, then turned and cracked him across the temple when he cried out and let go.

There was a thump as the last goon’s body hit the floor and then silence.

The Black Widow paused to survey the room, her lips pursed in disdain. None of them were getting up or even moving, all done in seconds with no attempts to coordinate or regain the initiative. In particular, she arched her eyebrow at the one who’d tried to sleeper hold her, a rookie mistake.

“You guys make my job too easy,” she shook her head, sticking her pistol back in its holster.

Clicking on her direct line to the director, Natasha strolled amongst the fallen goons with her hip swaying gait, looking them over and checking their gear.

“Fury, this is Widow,” she said, “You were right, there was something going on down here. Looks like they were after the vibranium core samples. Hydra.”

There was a moment’s silence, but Natasha didn’t bother retransmitting. She knew the director had heard her; he was thinking. They’d worked together long enough that she knew his idiosyncrasies.

“How sure are you that they were after the vibranium?” he finally asked.

“Pretty sure, boss,” she gave one of the men a nudge with her boot, “They knew which containers had the vibranium and opened them first.”

“There are only a handful of people that know we have those samples, Agent Romanov. You can understand my concern.”

One of the Hydra goons groaned and started to get up. Natasha moseyed over to him.

“There’s something else you should be concerned about,” she said, aiming her bracelet.

She fired a dart into the goon and he stiffened, his body locking and arching off the floor.

“They knew how to shut down the alarm and countermeasures. And they didn’t hack or blow their way into the containers, they opened them.”

There was another longer silence as Fury processed that information.

Natasha stepped around another goon and began searching the rest of the room, eyes cool and ready.

“Keep me informed, Agent Romanov,” Fury said, “Agent Carter reported in from that location.”

Her brow furrowed at that, “I’ll keep my eyes open, boss.”

Natasha killed the channel and made her way through rows of containers more warily now, checking corners and behind the cylindrical safes. She’d only officially met Sharon Carter a few times, but she knew the woman was a highly skilled agent, not to mention her legacy as being the niece of SHIELD co-founder Peggy Carter. If Agent Carter had been in this room, the only reason she wouldn’t have helped is if she were somehow incapacitated. Natasha hoped it was the variety of incapacitation that required her to cut some ropes, rather than fill a body bag.

The room wasn’t how Natasha would have designed it. The forest of containers created too many places to hide, their placement making it impossible to see from one side of the room to the other. She had to weave through them and continually check to the sides and behind herself to make sure she hadn’t missed something. It would have been better to have a team fanned out and searching this place; that was often the trade off with being a woman tactical squad.

A low groan drew Natasha’s attention and when she turned around the next container, a young blonde in a SHIELD uniform lying against the back of it. She was pretty, with features more girl-next-door compared to Natasha’s sultry beauty but looked to be in a state of semi-consciousness.

Wary of a trap, Natasha looked around quickly, then knelt beside her. It was Agent Carter, sat up but slumped against the container, head lolling towards her shoulder. She didn’t look to be injured but her eyes were lidded and glassy, eyes far too dilated for normal brain function. Her wrists had been placed in restraints and she was probably drugged to keep her quiet, though with what was unclear.

Natasha placed her fingers to the girl’s neck, finding her pulse to be strong.

“Agent Carter?” she said.

Sharon didn’t respond, her mouth ajar, eyes staring off at nothing.

Natasha looked at her fellow agent’s pupils for a moment, then reached into a pouch on her belt for a counter-narcotic. Natasha herself had a heightened resistance to poisons and drugs thanks to the Red Room serum coursing through her, but she kept something like this in case she was hit with something a bit more intense than what her immune system could handle. It wouldn’t clear everything out of Sharon’s system, but it should be enough to allow her to walk and perhaps explain what had happened.

With her eyes turned momentarily down towards her belt, Natasha didn’t see Sharon’s eyes latch onto her, suddenly intent, lips quirking up in a sly grin that didn’t match her innocent face.

In the instant the Black Widow was distracted, Agent Carter struck like a cobra, snapping forward with lightning speed and an open mouth. Natasha flinched more than reacted, turning away so that Sharon’s mouth pressed to her cheek rather than her lips, brushing the skin in a soft kiss.

Natasha shoved Carter back and her fellow agent banged into the container with a wild laugh, her eyes wide and delighted.

“Mmm, today must be my lucky day,” Sharon purred, “The niece of the great Peggy Carter and the Black Widow herself. Yummy, yummy…”

Natasha stared at the woman, touching the spot where she was kissed. It tingled, feeling unnaturally warm. There was some kind of drug on the woman’s lips, something that could be applied to the skin.

And this was definitely not Sharon Carter.

Natasha lunged backwards, coming to her feet, both her pistols snapping up with only the sound of their safeties being clicked off. She aimed both of them at “Sharon’s” face, glaring coldly.

The woman grinned broader at this, her eyes widening, exhilarated.

“I’ve done the femme fatale thing, lady,” Natasha smiled back, “Trust me. You’re not impressing anyone.”

“Oh, I know!” not-Sharon said, “That’s what makes this so much more exciting!”

The woman slowly stood, shimmying side to side up the container, slithering and grinning.

Natasha blinked. The tingling was spreading to her lips and scalp, down her neck, a warmth that wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it was VERY pleasant. She couldn’t help but notice the sinuous grace with which the other woman moved, making her feel warmer, a happy throb spreading through her. Maybe it was why she hadn’t already put a bullet in this imposter’s face.

“Hmm, do I see a blush?” the not-Sharon grinned, “You look a little distracted, Widow. Like your thoughts are on something else…”

Natasha swallowed, trying to ignore the feeling, glaring more intensely to try to cover it up.

“Stay where you are,” she growled, her stomach beginning to flutter, “M-move and I’ll put you down.”

“Oh, of course, officer!” not-Sharon’s eyes widened with feigned shock, “I’ll stay right here… until you’re ready…”

The blonde shook off her restraints, letting them clatter to the floor, revealing they’d never really been on in the first place, then she took the zipper of her SHIELD uniform and dragged it down, revealing the center of her bare chest, then her stomach.

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly, her heartbeat picking up. She was beginning to feel dizzy, like her head was stuffed with cotton, her body shivering with delicious tingles. Her pouty lips began to redden, her eyes losing some of their focus, the aim of her pistols wavering.

“What’s…” she began to slur, “happen… who… are you?”

Not-Sharon laughed gently, the sound making Natasha quiver, then she shrugged the jumpsuit off her shoulders and down her body. Before anything sensitive was revealed, a colorful wave rippled across the woman’s skin made up of tiny diamonds, like scales. The scales changed shape and color then blended back into the woman’s body, the wave transforming bare skin into shiny green spandex. More subtle changes occurred as the ripples passed over the breasts, making them slightly larger, the body itself a bit taller, the shoulders slightly broader.

As the woman shimmied the suit down her hips, the wave passed over her face, leaving her features more angular, hair going from wavy blonde to falling in a straight, shining stream of green down her back. Once the suit was around her ankles, an entirely new woman stood before Natasha, deadly curves displayed in a green catsuit, a pistol and whip hanging off a slouched tool belt, jade lips turned up in a wicked, sensual grin.

“I am Lady Viper,” the woman purred, running her hands down her body, “And it is so nice to get out of that clunky SHIELD onesy…”

Natasha took a step back, pistols wavering wildly in her hands, barely able to keep them pointed in Viper’s direction.

“Heard…” she breathed, “Heard… of you…”

“I know you have,” the Hydra operative stared into her eyes, “and now, at last, we meet. Just the two of us…”

Her voice sent thrills of such intense pleasure down Natasha’s spine, she almost moaned, having to close her eyes for a moment until they passed. She shook herself, feeling deliciously soft and warm, wanting to just sink to the floor and enjoy it.

“Why… why are you…?” she backed away another pace, “W-what… are…?”

Lady Viper swaggered after her, chin lowered, hips swaying in playful pursuit.

“Lower the guns, Natasha. Aren’t they heavy? I promise you won’t need them…”

The legendary Black Widow almost obeyed in that instant. They did feel heavy and unnecessary. She started to lower them then snapped them back up, continuing to retreat.

“N-no… I…” she shook herself, her eyelids starting to droop, “St-stay back…”

Lady Viper followed, “That’s not what you really want. You know it’s not… put down those heavy things and come here… come to me…”

Black Widow stumbled backwards, struggling to stay lucid.

“I…” a furrow of distress formed in her brow, “I… can’t…”

“Shhh…” Viper cooed, eyes lidded with pleasure, “You can… just put down the guns… come to me… and I’ll tell you everything…”

Natasha blinked uncertainly, “I… I…”

“I’ve given you a powerful narcotic, Natasha,” the villainess said, “It’s addictive. You need it. Now put down the guns… let me give you what you need…”

The drugged, bleary Avenger sighed gently, her eyes drifting closed. She could put the guns down just for a moment. Just a second. They were heavy and she didn’t need them. If she did, Lady Viper would tell her exactly what she wanted to know. That was more than a fair trade, wasn’t it?

Natasha kept the pistols raised for another moment, more out of habit than anything else, then she let her arms drop with another sigh. Her fingers relaxed and the pistols slipped from her grasp, clunking to the floor.

“Mmmm… gooooood…” Viper purred, “Now come… come here, little spider…”

Natasha shuffled forward a pace, then another, swaying towards Viper like a zombie.

“H-how…” she asked in a small voice, “what are you…?”

The villainess grinned, watching as her prey wandered towards her.

“We came for the vibranium… and anything else tasty we could find… we have some very nice people that are going to put them in sweet, sexy replicators… make as much hot, velvety vibranium as we want…”

The words made Natasha feel wonderful. She moaned softly and stumbled closer.

“We need it as a power source…” Viper continued, “It’s going to make some delicious armor suits… better than Iron Man… much more delicious…”

Natasha walked right up to Lady Viper and looked into her eyes, looking a bit scared, like a young girl facing her first adult experience. Like she knew she was in danger but couldn’t stop herself.

Viper took her by the shoulder and drew her closer, her other hand stroking down the Avenger’s soft cheek.

“Such a good girl…” she cooed, leaning in.

Natasha flinched back, her eyes wide.

“Wh-where… where’s agent c-carter?”

“Mmm…” Lady Viper cupped the heroine’s cheek, “She’s nice and safe in this very room. Don’t worry, you’ll see her soon…”

Her other hand snuck down to smooth over Natasha’s hip, feeling the tight, glossy material. The Black Widow was somewhat famous for her curving body, and Viper intended on enjoying it to the fullest. Leaning in for a kiss, she reached around for the heroine’s round backside, intending to claim it.

A grip closed tight on the villainess’s wrist, stopping her cold.

Viper stiffened, blinking into the Avenger’s suddenly clear, even taunting gray eyes. Then she was head butted.

“Nah!” she cried out, staggering back more in surprise than actual pain.

“Thanks,” the Black Widow smirked, “That’s everything I needed.”

Lady Viper gaped at her then was forced to dive out of the way as Natasha aimed her bracelets. A pair of electrified darts whistled past the Hydra operative, barely missing.

Natasha cocked her hip, still looking flushed but wearing a coy grin. She was fortunate Viper’s kiss had only grazed her cheek; she felt the drugs’ effects even with her natural immunity. It hadn’t taken a lot of acting for her to pretend to be dizzy, any more of the stuff might make her melt into a puddle on the floor. She would just have to make sure she didn’t get a second dose.

Viper ducked behind a container and flattened her back against it in case the Widow tried to take another shot at her. Her surprise fading, she grinned, then burst into a delighted laugh.

“Ooooh, you ARE good,” she giggled, drawing her pistol from her thigh, “I like it. So much more satisfying this way…”

The villainess turned around her cylindrical cover and aimed her pistol, but the Black Widow wasn’t there any longer, nor did she truly expect her to be. Grinning broader, enjoying the challenge, she turned back the way she came and blocked a kick intended for her face. The Avenger had done the same thing she would have done: followed her and waited for her to come out from behind cover, then attacked her from the other side.

Lady Viper immediately counter attacked, using a push kick to drive the heroine back, then brought up her pistol. Natasha fired a lanyard from her bracelet that tangled the barrel, then yanked it away, sending the weapon skittering across the floor.

An average agent would have been stunned at how easily they were disarmed, but Viper had not only expected it, she’d allowed it to happen. For a split second after she ripped the weapon away, the Black Widow was open, and Viper was already moving to attack. She drove a fist into the Avenger’s jaw, stunning her, then another punch whipped her head around, tousling her red hair and making her stagger back. The villainess finished the combo with a spinning back kick that knocked the heroine off her feet altogether, throwing her legs into the air and slamming her back to the tiled floor.

“UNF!” Natasha grunted in pain.

She quickly rolled over her shoulder and back to her feet, but her gray eyes were wider now. She knew Lady Viper was a seductress and a dangerous opponent, but she didn’t expect the villainess to be her match in hand to hand combat. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time someone had truly challenged her in that department.

Viper gave her that sly grin and stretched her arms over her head, arching her back, lazy and feline. It pressed out her chest and did interesting things to the muscles on her stomach. Her body still humming with the drugs the villainess had given her, Natasha couldn’t help but notice how the catsuit gleamed over the contours of Viper’s figure.

“This is going to be fun,” the jade-haired operative purred, “SHIELD’s best versus Hydra’s, a little girl on girl action, and then… mmm… the best part.”

“Yup,” Natasha drawled, “Kicking your ass is going to be awesome.”

(to be continued)