"Their sudden intimacy was like the explosive combustion that engulfs and consumes a moth that has fluttered too close to a candle flame; a completely unexpected turn of events that took both of them unawares and swept them irresistibly up and out of themselves as it hurled them into each other's arms."
― Jack Whyte

Natasha hadn't spoken one word to Steve since they had returned from their mission, her expression remained stern, indifferent not a trace of emotion remained. Her eyes looked cold, and gone was the enchanting sparkle that Steve found so attractive when she looked through her long thick lashes. On returning to the Avengers tower, Natasha walked swiftly down the long corridor leading to the elevator that would transport her to her room, Steve followed confusion contorting his face,

"Nat, Natasha! NAT! Wait up..." As she stepped into the elevator she turned and stared straight ahead, her gaze cutting right through Steve allowing the doors to start to fall together prepared to let them cut him off. Steve however managed to reach the elevator doors in time and grasped hold of both in his large firm hands, pulling them apart and flinging them to the sides easily. Natasha finally looked at him, however her eyes were still laced with ice as she raised an eyebrow questionably, coaxing Steve from his troubled trance pulling him back into the moment and the realisation that he was expected to say something,

"Natasha you haven't spoken to me since we returned, and you do understand we have a debriefing with Director Fury?" Her voice responded steely and flat, sharp,

"I have no need or desire to speak to you, and as the debriefing requires that I'm going to pass." Despite his calm and collected exterior Steve felt his heart rate start to increase in a mild panic, igniting his mind into a flurry of thoughts and analysis trying to deduce the reason for her harsh indifference and words. Alarmingly his conclusion found nothing. A frown adorned his brow line in bewilderment, bringing a somewhat childlike appearance to his features, in conjunction with this expression he combed his fingers through his hair that had been dishevelled by the action of the mission,

"Natasha please..." His big blue eyes begged Natasha to speak to him, yearning to make amends, boring into her gaze,

"... what have I done to deserve this?" At that remark the anger that had been simmering beneath Natasha's facade surged against her chest, however her features still remained unresponsive although she stepped forward, bringing herself closer to Steve,

"Captain. How would you feel if you instructed a fellow soldier to undertake a certain task, however they go against this order and compromise the whole mission, in order to attend to a situation you can handle yourself?" Steve's features dropped in recognition of the situation she had identified. He had abandoned his orders in order to prevent an oncoming assailant from attacking Natasha, and she hated him for it. At this thought he felt defiant anger coarse through his veins, causing his heart to thump against his chest in a simmer of rage, his voice was now stronger and more stern as he responded,

"So I'm just suppose to let you die, everyone needs help now and again Nat, even you. You are not indestructible or expendable..." Now the fire that had been seething beneath her verdant eyes, ignited her features and consumed her body as she lunged forward at him her usually indifferent features now contorted in rage,

"Don't you dare Rogers. I am not a damsel in distress I can take care of myself, believe it or not in this modern age I pack a punch as good as any man's so don't demean me with your old fashioned ways, however quaint they may be. Next time don't risk everything for my sake, there's no reason for it." Natasha was now close to Steve her chest heaving from the exertion of her fury, her breathes brushing across his face. Both now displayed brows twisted by frowns, and lips pursed tightly in contempt both staring into each other's eyes entranced by each other's fiery gaze. Despite Steve's exterior calmly he uttered,

"There's always a reason Nat." At that his lips collided with hers his hand snaking around her waist pushing her further into the elevator, pressing the button for the doors to shut in accordance with his sweeping gesture, and pressing her against the back wall her body held by his. Natasha's initial reaction was to push him away but his hands that had ghosted over her body had found their way to her wrists pinning them either side of her, as if he knew that she would fight back. Part of her wanted this, part of her relished it, desired it and her body betrayed these yearnings as she allowed his mouth to ravage her, attacking her lips before adorning her neck with searing kisses. At this action a contented sigh escaped Natasha's mouth, inducing a smirk to creep across Steve's lips as he revelled in the feel of her, his hands now releasing her wrists and caressing the curve of her waist and hips. The sigh of pleasure that had whispered from her lips brought Natasha back to the situation at hand, pushing Steve's shoulders she sternly commanded,

"Stop Steve." Steve stepped away from her, and Natasha closed her eyes briefly in agony at the removal of his body from her, the loss of his heat, lips and hands causing her body to ache painfully. Both exhibited flushed faces and heaving breathes attained by the throes of passion, however Steve now looked to the floor nervous, fearing that he had just ruined a precious relationship his expression despondent and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Natasha's body still whirred with lust and after a quick evaluation of the situation she drawled,

"Oh what the hell..." Launching herself back towards Steve her hands cupping his face pulling him back towards her and out of his sombre stupor, his hands raced to her waist clawing at her body hungrily as he pushed her back towards the wall they had previously occupied. Their kisses were desperate and blazing as if they had been starved of each other's touch, Natasha's hands gripped the front of Steve's uniform pulling him closer, wanting more, wanting him. Their kisses waged a war on each other's bodies, both trying to outdo the other, both trying to coerce delicious and sinful mewls and moans that spurred the other on, their bodies and minds giving into the fervour of passion. It wasn't until the high pitched ping of the elevator reverberated within the confines of the walls that they paused, pulling themselves apart Natasha combed her fingers through her scarlet tresses trying to coerce them back into it's usually polished style, rather than the disarray that Steve's hands had bestowed. Noticing that Steve's hair was also tousled she brushed his hair to the side softly with her fingertips, before bequeathing a soft smile which Steve returned, and in a rapid reflex of movement exacting a sharp slap to the side of his face,

"That's for misbehaving on a mission." She coyly replied through a sultry smirk, that brought back the irresistible sparkle in her eyes, as she walked around him and headed out of the elevator swaying her hips provocatively a seductive chuckle accompanying her movement and echoing within the corridor back to Steve. Steve's fingers brushed the cheek she had struck and his expression that had been one of paralysing shock now dissuaded and gave way for a soft smile, as he shook his head in disbelief. Natasha Romanoff; forever unpredictable, unequivocally enticing and remarkably addictive.