Cheating My Way Through Marvel and Beyond

Jack knew Natasha Romanoff wasn't the type to just hang out at bars for fun.

She was a spy. A top-tier, world-class, brainwashing-you-with-a-smile kind of spy. If she was here, she had a reason.

But unless that reason involved him, Jack wasn't about to stress over it.

Besides, if she wasn't here to kill him, that meant one thing—he had a golden opportunity.

A woman like Natasha wasn't just any random beauty. She was the kind of once-in-a-lifetime, heart-racing, makes-you-wonder-if-you'll-survive-the-night beauty.

And Jack?

Well, he wasn't one to let an opportunity slip away.

His mind ran through possibilities, angles, the best way to flirt without getting stabbed.

But before he could even speak, Natasha tilted her head, studying him. Then, with a smirk, she spoke again.

"What's wrong? You don't understand English, or you just don't want to talk to me?"

Jack's lips curled into a lazy grin. "Sorry, I was just thinking about the best way to trick you into spending the night at my place."

Her smirk didn't fade. In fact, it grew. "That depends on your skills, doesn't it?"

Jack leaned back, arms stretching across the booth. "Well, aren't you lucky? Because I'm very, very skilled."

Natasha laughed softly, eyes flickering with amusement.

Jack snapped his fingers, calling over a waiter. "Hey! Get this lady a drink. Make it match her personality."

The waiter, used to Jack's generous tipping, nodded and hurried off. Jack tossed him a bundle of hundred-dollar bills. "Keep the change."

"Thank you, sir!"

Jack grinned. "Don't thank me yet. If the drink doesn't match her personality, I'll personally turn your balls into a burrito."

The bartender nearly choked. "Noted!"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, swirling her own drink. "Burrito? That's creative. You're funny. That's a bonus."

Jack smirked. "Oh, sweetheart, I have a lot of bonuses. You'll have plenty of time to find them all."

Natasha tilted her head. "Most men take a while before flirting so shamelessly."

Jack shrugged. "Most men don't have this much confidence."

The two of them continued their flirty banter, exchanging sharp words and sharper glances. But through it all, Jack noticed something—

Natasha's eyes kept flickering toward the three guys at the back of the bar.

Jack didn't need a spy manual to know she was here for them.

Then, just as the men got up to leave, Natasha stretched lazily and stood. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Jack chuckled. Right. The bathroom. Sure.

He watched her disappear toward the back exit.

Then, right on cue—

Ding!

System Mission: How Can a True Gentleman Let a Lady Fight Alone?

Task: Help Natasha take down those three guys.

Reward: Natasha will remember you. (And, let's be real, who wouldn't want that?)

Note: Seriously, host. A woman like that? You better not let her walk away so easily!

Jack sighed, shaking his head.

"Great. What was supposed to be a simple flirt session just turned into a street brawl."

Still, he wasn't about to turn down a mission with rewards like this.

Without hesitation, Jack stood up and slipped out the back door.

Alleyway Ambush

The three men had already made it to the alley's entrance when Natasha stepped in front of them.

She spoke in Russian.

Jack caught a few words, but not enough to piece together the conversation.

Whatever she said, though, it pissed them off.

One of the men reached for a gun—

Only to be stopped by another.

Right. No silencers. They didn't want to attract attention.

They thought Natasha was just some woman.

Jack smirked. Idiots.

The men didn't even notice him. To them, he was just some random dude who had walked out of the bar.

Big mistake.

As the first guy lunged toward Natasha—

Jack moved.

Fast.

He surged forward, blurring past Natasha.

Before the first man even registered his presence, Jack grabbed him by the face, spun, and threw him backwards.

CRACK!

The guy's skull smacked into his friend's nose.

Blood exploded everywhere.

The third guy barely had time to react before Jack's elbow slammed into his temple.

Thud.

He hit the ground instantly.

The first two, still reeling, clutched their faces—

Only for Jack to chop them both on the neck.

Boom. Boom.

They collapsed.

The entire fight had taken less than two seconds.

Jack dusted off his hands, grinning. "Well, that was fun."

Then he turned—

And found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

"What the fuck?!"

Jack nearly cursed out loud.

Natasha had a Glock pointed straight at his head.

Her usual playful smirk? Gone.

Her gaze? Sharp, calculating. Dangerous.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked, voice low.

Jack raised his hands, laughing. "Oh, come on. You can't be serious. I just saved your ass, and now you're pointing a gun at me?"

Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Those men weren't ordinary. You took them out in seconds. No hesitation."

Jack sighed dramatically. "And yet, after all that, I still haven't earned a drink?"

Natasha didn't react. The gun stayed aimed at his head.

Jack smirked.

Then—

He moved.

A quick step, a feint, a flicker of motion—

In an instant, he was next to Natasha.

Before she could react, he snatched the gun right out of her hand.

Her eyes widened.

Jack casually disassembled the gun in seconds, tossing the parts onto the ground.

Then, just for fun, he flicked the bullet straight down her dress.

It landed perfectly between her breasts.

Jack grinned. "You know, Cupid doesn't just use a bow and arrow. Sometimes, he plays with pistols too."

Natasha blinked.

Then—

Her expression darkened.

Jack knew that look. That was the "I'm going to kill you" look.

Which meant it was time to retreat.

He took a step back, hands raised. "Well, this has been fun. But I really should get back to the bar before my actual date leaves."

With a wink, he turned and walked away.

Behind him, Natasha silently fumed.

Her hand twitched toward her thigh, where she had a hidden shock device.

She had been this close to using it—

But he had already left.

"Damn bastard," she muttered, scowling.

Still, as she watched him disappear into the night, she couldn't help but feel a strange mix of irritation and intrigue.

Who was he?

She would find out soon enough.

....

Poor Jack

Jack had no idea what was running through her mind, but he didn't care. The mission was complete, and more importantly, he'd made a lasting impression on her. There'd be time to build on that later. 

For now, the smart move was to leave. Sticking around any longer meant risking an encounter with S.H.I.E.L.D., and that was a headache he didn't need. 

Sure, he was interested in Black Widow—who wouldn't be? But getting tangled up with her agency? Yeah, no thanks. Not yet, at least. 

As he walked back into the bar, his lips curled into a smirk as he replayed that last little moment—the way the bullet had slipped right into her clothes. Damn, that was one for the books. 

But when his eyes landed on the spot where the girl he'd been keeping an eye on for days usually sat, he found it empty. 

"Ah, shit," he muttered, shaking his head. "Guess it's time to call it a night." 

With that, he turned on his heel and headed home, already looking forward to whatever came next.