"Happy endings are just stories that haven't finished yet." She said bitterly. When in doubt she fell back on her training. She could feel his cool gaze burning her as she adopted an impassive face of regal superiority, something she'd often do in times of discomfort. He inclined his head slightly before starting the dance.
They stepped in time, neither out of place. That is, until he hurried them back a few steps and slammed her into some ornate frame. She felt the glass strain beneath her back and gritted her teeth, her back aching from the impact. She slid down slightly, he was a strong man that's for sure, his arm supporting her from completely slouching. He was mocking her. Her eyes burned with an intense hatred as he span her around and they rejoined the dance.
She turned her body almost imperceptibly so that it was angled slightly away. She wanted to test his abilities and sure enough she was delighted to see the offence rising in his eyes. Her joy must have been present in her expression because he suddenly arched her down, her back cracking at the sudden movement. She felt his hands drift up and down her spine and cursed herself for the tingle his touch left. "Satisfied?" She wasn't an idiot, she knew he was searching for weapons.
"Not in years darling."
Oh the cheek. His statement left her smarting, a bruised ego obviously visible as he didn't suppress the smug grin. The arrogance of that man knows no bounds. She wanted nothing more than to rid him of that infuriating smile but was stopped short as he abruptly righted her and pinned her leg to his waist, removing the knife sheathed beneath her skirt. With a casual flick of the wrist he sent it flying into the nearby panels, the handle quivering slightly as the blade sank into the polished wood.
Rage briefly clouded her judgement as she immediately groped him for any potential weapon. Her fingers brushing down his trousers. She felt something hard and glanced down. His front was slightly protruding and she eyed him curiously. "All James sweetheart." She pursed her lips and pinched it, he stiffened at the pain but otherwise showed no outwards reaction. Slightly disappointed, she continued her search. However her ego had been slightly inflated at the fact that he had a boner over her, even if did well in hiding his embarrassment.
An opening came in which he span her around in time to the beat. She dropped as elegantly as she could to the floor and tried not to be too frantic as she searched him. She ran her hands up and down his legs, feeling for anything that could harm her. He watched amused as her red curls bobbed between his legs, the scandalised looks being exchanged between the elder couple next to them only made it more enjoyable. Unfortunately they were starting to attract too much attention so he jerked her up roughly and tried to ignore how she'd somehow removed all of his gear.
She noticed the looks and so leaned into him sensually, letting him lead her whilst they both put on a passionate display of love and lust. The passion came from their animosity towards each other, yet it seemed to do the trick. The eyes left them and they resumed their silent battle.
Her voice was a soft purr as she whispered into his ear, their bodies still moving together in the fiery dance. "Why do you think we failed? Was it because we were leading separate lives? Or was it the lying that did us in." She narrowed her eyes and tightened her hold on his arm. He remained staring forward.
"I have a theory." He turned her away before pulling her back in again. She redirected his footing and led them towards the edge of the dance floor. She couldn't help but tease him slightly, the sarcasm in her voice over exaggerated.
"And I'm breathless to hear it." She could practically feel his eyes roll as he once again gained control and forced her into a dip, his eyes sweeping over the valley of her cleavage.
"You killed us." She tossed her hair as she became upright and was forced to take a step back.
"Provocative." She kept her words calm and tilted her chin up towards him, her voice smooth and honeyed. Mind games and verbal spars were her element. She was actually interested in what he had to say though. What excuse could he possibly come up with to blame this on her? She was the cover.
He went on as if he hadn't heard her. "You approached our marriage as if it was a job." His Brooklyn accent seeped in. "Recon, planned and executed."
"And you avoided it." Her tone came out harsher than intended. They'd made a full circuit of the floor and were now back by the stairs. His blue eyes were sharp and heavy, a stab of hurt flickering in them. He was good at faking emotions.
"What do you care, if I was just a cover?" His gaze settled on her lips but she felt a flicker of confusion.
"Who said you were just a cover?" Her mind began whirring as he tried to mask his own confusion with indifference.
"Wasn't I?" Something tugged at the back of her mind.
"Wasn't I?" She tried to piece together her thoughts as he twirled her one last time. She barely noticed when he let go and she had to take a step back. Her mind was going into overdrive and she pushed past him, muttering a soft "excuse me," to the other couples.
Was I a cover? Or have I been lied to?
He watched her fly up the steps and felt his own brows knitting together. Before he could think too much of it part of the wall exploded. Screams echoed around the restaurant as people hurried for the door, he was swept out in the large crowd and onto the busy streets of New York. Sirens could already be heard screaming towards them and he watched as a head of red hair disappeared into the traffic. He felt the grudging smile tug at his lips.
It soon vanished as an old man grabbed at his coat. "Sir! Sir your coat is ticking." He looked down in alarm. Glowing numbers counted down. Shit.
"EVERYBODY MOVE! GET OUTTA THE WAY!" He ripped off his coat and balled it up, shoving it into the mail box. He'd barely slammed the thing closed when a column of fire erupted out, leaving a twisted hunk of metal and a ticked off James.
All previous doubts about his wife disappeared. She'd always been a conniving minx, her tears were a ploy used to lower his guard so she could finish him when he least expected it. Black Widow indeed. His anger boiled back up to the surface. He waved out his hand and flagged down a cab, ignoring the cries of the other guests.
He'd find her. He always did. And then, revenge would be sweet.
A/N Heavily inspired by Mr and Mrs Smith.
The Tango of a Troublesome Marriage
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