blackhill + multiship oneshots

kiss me (what?!) part 1 (blackhill)

prompt: Nat and Maria go on an undercover mission, however its Maria's first mission since joining SHIELD. Inspired by that one picture of Cobie with slicked back hair and a suit on because lord save me, she looked good in that pic.

. . . . .

Maria Hill was extraordinarily beautiful, in a way that Natasha hadn't noticed until now.

Her hair was out of its familiar bun and slicked back, falling down her back like the streams of a waterfall. Her jawline was excessively prominent and sharp in the light of the chandelier, highlighting her defined collarbone and the silver earrings hanging from her earlobes. She made a point of staying hidden in the corner, leaned up against the wall with a glass of neat whiskey raised to her lips.

Natasha watched her from the far side of the ballroom with interest. The new recruit was a beauty and a mystery. A dangerous combination.

She didn't know much about Maria. The stuff she'd managed to dig out of old SHIELD files and hacking mainframes didn't tell her much. Maria Hill was an Illinois born ex-soldier, dishonourably discharged for unknown reasons, with exceptional skills, suited to SHIELD's best interests.

"You wanna quit the staring, Nat?" Clint's voice suddenly interjected her thoughts. "I can see it from here."

Hawkeye sat perched (ha, ironic) on the roof of a neighbouring building, watching the mission from the scope of his sunglasses, with an arrow armed in case of emergency. His earpiece was only connected to Natasha's, since Maria's was hooked up to Fury's back at HQ.

"I'm not staring." Natasha defended, taking a sip from the champagne flute in her hands. "This tastes like shit."

"You so are. And that's because Raymond is cheap whenever he isn't buying himself a seventh yacht."

Ricardo "Ricky" Raymond was a New York based loan shark, hell-bent on making the lives of the less fortunate hell and benefiting off it. From what SHIELD could gather, Raymond was currently loaning to thirty different clients, all minimum-wage workers in desperate situations. He was a self-obsessed bigot with too much family money to spare and too big an ego to care. But that wasn't what Natasha, Clint, and newly-recruited Maria were here for. There had been rumours of Raymond illegally dealing chemical weapons on the black market for profit, and these weapons were not simply poison lipsticks or gas-filled pen clickers. No, these were possibly lethal weapons of mass destruction, and they were rumoured to be completely disguisable as well.

That's why they were here. To bring this son of a bitch in.

"Nat, you've got movement at your end." Clint suddenly piped up.

Natasha subtly glanced up from her drink and caught it. The target walked straight into the gala and approached the bar. She noticed two guards follow him in before stopping by the entrance and standing tall, arms crossed with stoic looks.

Her position was opposite the bar, at the leather sofas, and she stood up. The red, strapless dress Carter loaned out to her for the night was the designated distraction, so Natasha could slip a microscopic tracking device in Raymond's drink.

Once the bartender handed him a crystal glass of malt liquor, Natasha strutted entrancingly up to the bar to order a refill of champagne. As he turned to leave, she purposefully turned into his chest as well and bumped him backwards a little bit.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." She drawled, feigning a doe-eyed, LA accent while expertly slipping the device into the glass.

"It's no trouble. I could never get mad at a pretty face like that." Raymond chuckled lowly, grinning at Natasha.