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A flicker of unwillingness flashed through Natasha's eyes, sharp and cold, like a blade hidden beneath calm water.
But it disappeared just as quickly.
In her current situation, resistance alone meant nothing. She understood that better than anyone. As an agent, survival wasn't about pride—it was about adaptation. No matter how humiliating the position, no matter how dangerous the opponent, she had to choose the path that gave her even the slightest chance.
"Jack… I shouldn't have done that," Natasha said softly, her tone shifting, becoming lighter—almost delicate. "Actually, I only wanted to test your ability. You really are… strong."
Her expression changed completely, softening into something almost vulnerable.
Jack paused.
For a brief moment, he simply stared at her.
Then he smiled.
"Good," he said slowly. "Very good. Continue."
Encouraged, Natasha lowered her gaze slightly, as if hesitant, as if struggling with something inside.
"You know I'm from the Soviet Union," she continued. "During the Second World War… the things you did… your so-called heroic deeds… I heard them growing up."
She lifted her eyes again, letting a faint admiration show through.
"They made me… admire you."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Really?" he said, amused. "So I can actually be admired? That feeling… not bad."
Natasha nodded gently, as if relieved he had responded positively.
"Joining S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't my choice," she said, her voice gaining a trace of bitterness. "I never wanted to live like that. Working for them, risking everything, always being controlled… but I had no way out. Their influence is too strong."
She paused, letting the weight of those words settle.
"But you…" she continued, her voice lowering slightly, "you're different. You're powerful. You're free."
Her eyes met his again, steady and clear.
"That's why I tested you. I needed to know if you were truly strong enough."
Jack watched her carefully.
Every word.
Every expression.
"Turns out," Natasha said softly, "you are."
Jack nodded slowly, as if considering her words.
"So that's it," he said. "You've been under pressure."
Natasha turned her head slightly, her expression now carrying a trace of helplessness—just enough to look real.
"Jack… I want to follow you," she said quietly. "I want to get out of S.H.I.E.L.D. I want… freedom."
Her gaze, slightly trembling, fixed on him.
For most people, it would have been convincing.
Too convincing.
Jack's eyes flickered faintly.
She's good, he thought. Very good.
"You really want to follow me?" he asked.
Natasha didn't hesitate.
"Is there anyone in this world stronger than you?" she replied. "Following strength… that's the safest choice. I don't want to save people. I prefer destruction."
Her tone turned firm, decisive.
Jack looked at her in silence for a moment.
Then—
A faint, dangerous smile appeared on his face.
"Why should I believe you?" he asked.
Natasha's expression didn't break.
"If you don't believe me," she said calmly, "you can kill me."
She slowly reached toward her waist.
"There's a gun here. Give it to me. Let me end it myself."
Her voice softened again, almost fragile.
"I won't resist."
Jack took the gun from her waist and pressed it lightly against her head.
"Really?" he asked.
Natasha closed her eyes.
"If you want."
Silence.
A long one.
Then—
Jack laughed softly and pulled the gun away.
"How could I not believe you?" he said casually. "Even if you're lying… what can you do in my hands?"
His tone was relaxed, almost playful.
"You can't overturn anything."
Natasha opened her eyes slowly.
"You're right," she said. "In front of you… tricks are meaningless. So I won't lie."
Jack smiled faintly.
"Sounds touching," he said. "Alright… I believe you."
He stood up slightly, loosening his posture.
Natasha followed, standing slowly as well.
A faint chill flashed deep within her eyes—but vanished immediately.
"The fact that you believe me… is my honor," she said.
Jack tilted his head.
"Time for a test," he said with a grin.
Natasha's expression became serious.
"What test? I'll do anything."
Jack nodded.
"I know you can," he said. "It's simple."
A brief pause.
Then—
"Take off your clothes."
Natasha froze.
"What?"
Jack's expression didn't change.
"I said… take them off," he repeated casually. "It's not difficult. A few seconds."
Natasha lowered her head slightly.
Inside, killing intent surged like a storm.
So this is what you want… she thought.
But outwardly—
"I… understand," she said quietly.
Her fingers moved slowly, unzipping the black leotard.
The motion was deliberate, controlled.
The fabric slipped away, revealing what was underneath.
Jack watched from the side, clicking his tongue lightly.
"Not bad," he said. "A real weapon."
Natasha forced a faint smile.
"I'm glad you like it."
But behind that smile—
There was nothing but cold intent.
"Continue," Jack said.
Natasha looked up.
"Continue?"
"Yes," Jack said. "Completely. I'll even take pictures."
He pulled out his phone, smiling.
"So I can remember you when you're not around."
For a brief moment—
Natasha's fingers tightened.
Shame.
Anger.
Humiliation.
All surged together.
But she suppressed everything.
"Are you sure… you want me to continue?" she asked.
Jack's smile widened.
"Of course. Don't disappoint me."
Natasha paused.
Then said, "Can we change the test?"
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Change it? Into what?"
She hesitated slightly, as if thinking.
Jack smirked.
"I know," he said. "Find a place. Take a bath for me. That's even better."
His tone turned teasing.
"Relaxing for you… enjoyable for me."
Natasha's expression remained steady.
"…Anything else?"
Jack thought for a moment.
"Massage," he said. "You can do that."
Natasha nodded faintly.
"I'll satisfy you."
Jack suddenly added, his grin turning sharper:
"With your chest."
Natasha's expression stiffened for a split second.
"Jack… don't you believe me?" she asked coldly.
Jack shrugged.
"You noticed?" he said lightly. "You think I'd believe all that?"
His tone shifted—calm, but cutting.
"You're good. Very good. Most people would fall for it."
He looked directly into her eyes.
"But I'm not most people."
Natasha clenched her fists.
"Damn it," she muttered, pulling her clothes back on quickly.
Jack sighed dramatically.
"What a pity," he said. "Such a good show."
Natasha finished dressing and looked at him coldly.
"What do you want?"
Jack smiled.
"What do I want?" he repeated. "To kill you."
"You can try."
Jack shook his head.
"Killing you would be a waste," he said. "But punishment… that's necessary."
He stepped closer.
"Cooperate, and it'll be easier."
Natasha's gaze hardened.
"I'm not prey."
"I know," Jack said. "You're the Black Widow."
His hand landed on her shoulder.
"Poisonous… but useless against me."
Natasha grabbed his wrist.
"Move."
Jack didn't.
"What can you do if I don't?" he asked calmly.
Natasha didn't answer—
She struck.
Her fist shot forward.
"Then I'll fight you."
Jack sighed.
"Pointless," he said.
In one motion, he forced her down again.
Back to the ground.
Pinned.
Completely controlled.
"You know you can't win," he said calmly. "Yet you still try."
He looked down at her.
"That's what I call… foolish."
Natasha struggled beneath him, her breathing sharp, eyes burning with defiance.
But deep inside—
She knew.
He wasn't wrong.
And that was what made it worse.