moodshifter | Alice Cullen | Natasha Romanova

It's comfortable, moving Natasha's things into the right places. Even her weapons find a home in the tidy closet, and Alice can't help but wonder if she'll keep them once she's changed. Most vampires, even collectors, usually don't find a use for them, but somehow she thinks Natasha might be more stubborn about that than most vampires.

As Natasha looks over her shoulder, Alice watches her glance around the room, marking all the places where she's put her things, the bits and pieces of her life. She doesn't need Jasper's ability to see how much this means, how strange it is. She slips across the rug to take Natasha's hands, and spins herself inside them, tucking herself up against Natasha's side the way she does with Jasper. It's different with someone nearly her size, they're almost nose to nose when they're barefoot. "You're here now," she says softly. Natasha's eyes are green, she thinks. She's going to remember it. "You never have to do that again."

The confidence that Alice shows to simply walk into Natasha's arms without hesitation makes her heart flutter a little, and she knows well enough to not question why. One of the reasons she's gotten so attached to Alice is because she's everything that should fear Natasha; smaller, sweeter, kinder... she's the kind of person that Nat would eat alive if she had to in the past, and yet there's no hesitation when she curls up against Natasha's side, nose to nose and staring at her eyes as if trying to find something. Natasha feels like a person around her. It's as simple as that.

Instead Natasha stares at her, searching her face for a moment before she swallows hard, and that's when it really hits her. They're staying here, which means that Natasha is staying here. So very abruptly, her journey is over, and she hasn't expected it. The fridge is filled with food for her, her things are in the closet and her makeup is now set up in the bathroom after she had to do it earlier that day. She doesn't have to do this again.

It's foreign. Surreal.

"I... don't really understand that." She admits quietly, eyes still searching Alice's face before they finally flutter down to her lips, still slightly more pink than the rest of her. Natasha moves her in her arms, bringing her more directly forward, and she stares at the woman with a strange sort of curiosity and comfort. "I like it, though." She sounds breathless, and it's because she is, although she reminds herself that she has no reason to be. "I don't understand it but I like it." It could be her recent search for physical connection, or maybe it just feels like the right thing to do when Natasha leans in, and instead of kissing Alice on the cheek she lets her lips brush against Alice's just barely; just enough for it to not be an accident.

"I've never wanted to be anywhere. It's nice."

Alice moves easily, like dancing, always like dancing, ending up with one arm set lightly around Natasha's waist, the other draped lazily over one shoulder. This is still so new for Natasha, but they have time. They'll have so much time. She can't see past the Volturi's visit, she doesn't know what will happen when they arrive, but they'll have time. She's sure of it.

The kiss isn't a surprise, but it is. It's a surprise how delicate it is, an almost-brush of warm lips against hers. It's a surprise, a good one, that Natasha is treating her as if she's breakable, just like Jasper does. Again, Alice marvels a little at how much they have in common, her husband and her girlfriend, and then she leans in to kiss back, still carefully but with a little more purpose. Her hand comes up to rest against Natasha's cheek, but her attention is focused completely on the entirely new sensation of warm, human lips against hers. She can feel Natasha's pulse everywhere they're touching, that odd little echo from different points, and it's still a surprise to her that it doesn't make her hungry, the feel and the scent of her so close, it doesn't burn in her throat or send venom running.

She's never kissed anyone but Jasper before. She can't decide if she wants to admit that or not, but she doesn't need to right now, she doesn't need to do anything but this. It's just them here, careful and slow.

The way that Natasha's stomach seems to flutter at something so simple as a kiss would be amusing if she wasn't feeling so light headed from it. She's done this countless times in more scenarios than she could possibly remember, and yet Alice, with her cool skin and amber eyes and dusty pink lips, is the first person that Natasha's ever found herself kissing because she's wanted to. There's no end goal here, no ultimate act of betrayal to pull or any covert operation going on. She's kissing Alice simply because she wants to, and it feels rebellious in a way Natasha wouldn't have expected.

She's quickly become addicting. Natasha finds herself wrapping her arms around Alice's waist and dragging her close, the kiss deepening once Alice willingly returns it, and Natasha can't help but let one hand trail up to thread through the short hair on the back of Alice's head. She's cold but she's sweet, rough in a way where she doesn't seem breakable and it's probably wrong, the way that Natasha is attracted to that. She's attracted to knowing that she can't hurt her, and even more so attracted to knowing that she, for some reason, trusts Alice to return that.

When Natasha pulls away she's slightly flushed, eyes still closed, and when they open to see Alice's face she can't stop herself from smiling with a nervous but light laugh. She pulls away just enough to take Alice's hands and Natasha doesn't know what the hell she's doing, but she knows that it feels like the right thing to do. She sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Alice forward to straddle her lap, and once she has her close again Natasha threads her fingers back into the woman's hair to pull her down into a deeper kiss, filled with affection. Her other hand finds the small of Alice's back to keep her steady although she's sure that she doesn't need it, and Natasha's fingers move slowly against the fabric of Alice's shirt, feeling the texture of her spine beneath it.

It's been a long time since Alice has had any kind of extended contact with a human, and that hadn't been anything like this, but her friendship with Bella before she'd been changed had taught her a lot about what to do, what not to do, her own limits. Even so, being with Natasha like this is easy in a way she really hadn't expected.

She's never been nervous of hurting her, she realizes as Natasha draws her forward onto the bed. She's nervous of her own inexperience. She's over a hundred, and in all that time, she's only ever been with Jasper. It seems silly to mention it, but it's going to be obvious, isn't it? Especially obvious with how certain Natasha's hands are on her, the way she pulls her close so easily, the way she makes Alice want more.

Alice's hands move over Natasha like fluttering birds, perched for a moment on her shoulders, then one slipping around her waist and her fingers just barely skimming her hair as she tips her head into the kiss, all tentative, uncertain touches. Natasha must know, she must be able to tell, and Alice hopes Jasper is long gone now, her nervousness is spiking.

There's hesitance in Alice's touch, not necessarily reluctance but a form of uncertainty that Natasha picks up on almost immediately. Her hands are moving with nervous excitement, as if unsure as to where she wants to keep them, and after a few more moments of slowly deepening their kiss Natasha finally parts, cheeks flushed and lips turned in a small smile.

"Hey." She gives a soft laugh that translates into a breathless huff, her arms wrapping around Alice's waist once more to keep her steady. "You alright? We can keep this slow..." One hand moves to brush Alice's hair from her eyes, and Natasha leans in to instead trail soft kisses down the gentle slope of her jaw and neck. When she speaks, soft lips brush against Alice's skin with her words.

"I'm just glad that I'm here with you, we don't have to get heavy handed if you're not ready for that."

"I, I haven't," she blurts out, leaning forward suddenly to hide her face in the fall of Natasha's hair. If she could blush, her cheeks would be flaming. "I mean, of course I have, but. With Jasper. There's never been anyone but Jasper."

It's easier for her hands to find purchase now, one wrapped around Natasha's shoulders and the other resting lightly on her collarbone as Alice tucks herself close. "I don't remember my human life," she continues softly, "none of it, but I, I've pieced together some things and I don't think there would have been anyone. And after I was changed, I knew I was waiting for him, so there was no reason for anyone."

Now that it's been said, she's able to raise her head and scan Natasha's face, still a little anxious as to what she might find there. "I want this. I do. I'm just..." And she giggles, and presses a hand over her face as her fingers curl around the back of Natasha's neck. "I'm nervous, even though I know what's going to happen, isn't that silly?"

At first it isn't clear exactly what Alice is talking about until she mentions Jasper, and that's when it clicks for Natasha. She's surprised, taken aback enough to actually lean back on the bed to put a bit of distance between them, holding herself up with one hand propped into the bedding. "You haven't done this with anyone other than Jasper?" She asks aloud with surprise, because although it makes sense now that Alice says it, it certainly isn't expected.

She almost asks if Alice wants to stop before she's continuing, and despite how nervous Natasha feels she should be, being the first experience for Alice other than Jasper himself, she can't help being endeared instead. "No," she responds warmly, leaning back in to move her hand to Alice's cheek. "It's not silly. You're allowed to be nervous."

After a moment Natasha shrugs, her eyes falling between them. "I've done this more than once and I'm nervous too." When she looks up its with a sheepish but excited smile. "Because it matters this time. We can be nervous about it together?"

For just a moment, when Natasha leans back, Alice wonders if she should do the same, but instead she shifts to perch more firmly on Natasha's lap, knees on the bed beside her hips now, one hand resting lightly at her waist. It's still comfortable, it's still where she wants to be, and Alice visibly relaxes when Natasha comes back to her.

This time it's Alice who turns her head to press a kiss to Natasha's palm, eyes steady on her in a way that's different, softer than Jasper's intent attention. "We'll be nervous about it together," she agrees with a smile. "And then we won't be." She reaches up to take Natasha's face in both hands and leans in to kiss her again, still careful but more certain than before.

Alice still needs to be cautious—she can't risk losing herself entirely to this, no matter how good it feels, she needs to keep herself in check and in the moment, and it takes some concentration—but as it turns out, her nervousness extends only as long as it takes Natasha to start getting her out of her clothes, after which it's drowned out by enthusiasm on both sides. She stops thinking about twelve things at once and narrows it down to only two or three, and for a few breathless minutes, only one.

Natasha was so busy trying to remember the last time that she was with someone like this that she hadn't even considered, there was no last time. Holding Alice is strange but invigorating at the same time, her cool skin a different sensation from what Natasha expects every time she reaches out, and it's the first time that she's ever been with someone - anyone - because she wants to be, with no other motivation beyond simply that.

It's different because Alice's stamina doesn't seem to end, and it's not like she can ever be out of breath, so by the time they're finished Natasha has no idea how long they've been going; just that she's exhausted, lying beside Alice in bed with a rapidly moving chest and a light sheen of sweat on her skin.

She finally rolls on her side, scooping Alice up into her arms and dragging her close, grinning a little as she tucks her head into the nook of Alice's neck. "You're so cold." She grins pleasantly. "It's perfect."

Even with the assurance that Natasha was also nervous, Alice had hoped her inexperience wouldn't be too, well, inexperienced, but it hadn't been long before she'd stopped worrying about that. She giggles softly as Natasha curls into her with relief and wraps herself around Natasha, basking in the sheer heat of her.

"You're warm," she counters, pressing her lips to Natasha's sweat-streaked temple. "You're wonderful," she adds with a little sigh of contentment. She may not need to rest, or stop at all, but she'd lost track of time more than once in the warmth and scent of Natasha, and even now she's paying more attention to the way her breath is smoothing out in her lungs, her heart is slowing, her coiled muscles relaxing. "And beautiful." She smiles against Natasha's hair and closes her eyes. "Even more beautiful in person."

The beauty of feeling wanted within that moment is something that Natasha is almost positive she's never experienced before, because she's been complimented more times than she can count and yet this time it actually seems to matter. She smiles against Alice's skin, pressing a soft kiss to her neck before leaning up on her elbow to hover over the other woman with a grin.

"You're not so bad yourself," she teases warmly, leaning down to press another kiss to Alice's forehead. "Sweet," she grins, lips trailing down the side of her face, "with an amazing smile. An adorable nose..." Natasha huffs a quiet laugh before brushing her lips against Alice's chin. "Perfect lips." Another grin, and Natasha is slowly slipping to move atop of Alice once again, mouth trailing down her body between her breasts.

"And, you exhaust me." Natasha finally returns up to Alice's face so she can press another swift kiss to her lips, and then swing her leg to climb off of her. "I need to take a shower, and then I need to pass out. Which is a good thing."

Alice ducks her head as if blushing at the light kisses dusting over her skin—Natasha is good at making her feel as though she would be blushing if she could—and giggles, wrinkling her nose with a grin. She darts forward to catch Natasha's cheek in a kiss as she bounces off the bed too and stretches her arms up over her head, thoroughly unselfconscious.

"Good," she says simply, and slips forward to hug her once more, openly affectionate, before she starts to collect her clothes from where they'd been tossed as Natasha had removed each piece. "I'm going to get a snack." Jasper will be back soon, but she's going to change that by meeting him in the woods. It's true, she can't get tired, and in fact everything Natasha's been doing to her has her a little electrified. Another reason to meet Jasper in the woods, away from the house, to avoid disturbing Natasha when she deserves a good night's sleep.

Before Alice manages to slip out of the room Natasha gives her backside a firm pat that's paired with a wink before climbing into the shower, and once she's finished she collapses on the bed with such weariness that she's asleep before her head hits the pillow.

The only thing colder than the ice that she sits upon is the wind, snow mercilessly pelting the exposed skin of her face as she shivers fiercely beneath half of the large coat she shares with the woman sitting beside her. She huddles closer to Victoria for warmth, but the thin blonde is just as cold as she is. Natasha wonders whether she can feel it, too, the ice settling in so deep that it feels as if her bones themselves have become brittle enough to crack with movement.

They share the coat, a glove on Natasha's hand while the other is on Victoria's, and the hands with exposed skin are held tightly between them with fingers twined together and tucked between their two bodies.

The supplies are scattered. They each wear one boot on the foot exposed the most to the elements, their only hat, right now, on Victoria's head. The pack of food is used to try and block the open area of the coat that they can't quite close around themselves, nearly empty of food and supplies, and within it lies their only weapon; a handgun, with one bullet remaining in it's chamber.

"Мы должны продолжать двигаться," Natasha begins, forcing the words past chattering teeth. "Мы умрем, если останемся здесь."

"Я не могу." Victoria's response comes thick and heavy, but with a resolve that sends a different chill - icy fear - through Natasha's veins. "Мы не собираемся выбраться из этого вместе, Наталья."

"Не говори так." Natasha begins fiercely, the heat in her voice giving her the energy she needs to look over at the woman she grew up beside. "Не говори так, мы почти там, мы можем это сделать-"

"Мы не можем," Victoria argues with a new fierceness. "Мы использовали почти все наши материалы. Один из нас не может достичь, конечно, не обоих." Natasha stays silent, because she's certain that Victoria is right, and perhaps that isn't the worst thing. Perhaps they'll die here together, and it isn't the worst way to go. She's heard stories of people dying of the cold, that it ends with deliriousness, that they feel so overheated they strip off all their clothes and die in the ice. Maybe the warmth will come soon.

But then Victoria continues. "Это должна быть ты, Наталья."

The fear grows stronger, and Natasha lets go of Victoria's hand only to grab her arm fiercely between them, staring at her with desperation in her young eyes. "Виктория, нет! Мы можем сделать это, или мы оба можем умереть здесь. Мы можем сделать это вместе-"

Victoria pulls her arm away abruptly, and when she looks at Natasha there are tears in her eyes that fail to hide the powerful determination behind them. "Это должна быть ты, Наталья. Ты всегда был самым сильным. Если у кого-то есть шанс выбраться, это ты. Ты один."

When the world blurs, Natasha thinks that it's the heat starting to come, but she's still so cold. Her tears feel as if they're going to freeze to her skin. "Виктория..."

But she pulls away from Natasha's hand, tearing the hat off of her head to leave it in the snow along with the glove that she wears, and then with a struggle she begins to untie her boot. "Я больше не хочу так жить." Her voice wavers with emotion but she shows no fault in the way that she moves, her decision already made. The boot is off, and she struggles to get to her feet, leaving the coat.

Natasha will never forgive herself for the way that she grabs it and wraps it around herself completely with desperation.

"Тебе нужно выйти." Victoria is shivering madly now, digging around the pack and speaking loudly over the white noise of snow and wind. When she pulls out the pistol she stands once more, taking a step back.

Natasha is much too weak, too cold, to wrestle it out of her hands.

"Уничтожь их, Наталия, сделай это для нас. За то, что они сделали с нами. Обещай мне."

Natasha's throat feels like it's closed now, and she has to use so much force to get past it that she nearly screams. "Виктория, пожалуйста-"

Victoria speaks with anger in return. "Обещай мне, Наталья!"

She's shaking her head, frozen lips pressed together in a thin line with tears streaking down her face, but she replies, voice quiet and almost lost when it's carried away by the wind.

"Обещаю."

Victoria presses the barrel of the gun beneath her chin.

Natasha doesn't realize that the shocked scream is aloud. She doesn't realize that she's in bed, covered in a cold sweat with trembling hands, and no matter how many times she looks around the room she still sees the snow, and the ice. The white that blends into the sky and makes it impossible to see the horizon. She's trembling - or is she shivering - because she's cold, but the blankets are warm, and her face is wet with tears that she doesn't remember crying.

After Alice had intercepted him on his way home, they'd lingered in the woods. It had likely been for the best they'd been far from the house, curled together on a high pine branch overlooking the whole valley, when she'd told him in a whisper everything that had happened between Alice and Natasha. That way they don't disturb her rest.

They'd been back at the house for only a few minutes, Alice dancing off to take a shower of her own, when Jasper had reached out to Natasha and frowned. Unsettled, that's the top layer—even in sleep, there are layers to her, he'd noticed that on the drive—but as he listens, there's anger, sadness, and then a growing fear that expands shockingly fast to fill every available space, pressing everything else aside, a smothering balloon of fear. A dream. A nightmare. He's moving almost before he hears the scream.

She's awake when he gets there, but the fear hasn't ebbed, and he isn't entirely sure she's seeing what's around her. He doesn't turn on a light, just blurs across the room to kneel beside the bed, with that sharp stare trained on her. Alice would feel guilty later that she hadn't seen this coming, he thinks, but a dream isn't a decision. She'd never decide on this.

"Natalia." It's quiet and steady, in that soft accent that always triggers a delicious little mix of irritation and affection, and reaches out to rest cold fingertips against the back of one hand. "It's just a dream. Возвратитесь, Natalia."

It's merging now, two worlds that she finds herself stuck in and Natasha can't find her footing, her head split. She hears the name, her own, whispered in a soft male voice that in this moment doesn't seem familiar, but it's when his cold fingers touch the back of her hand that Natasha is triggered into action before the logical part of her mind can catch up with her. She jumps, lashing out immediately and swinging at him with the closed side of a fist directly to his throat.

He moves back rapidly enough to miss her, his speed finally clicking her mind back into the now, and Natasha's eyes suddenly widen with a different sort of fear as her hand quickly moves to cover her mouth. "Jasper! I'm sorry," it comes out quickly, voice wavering through thick emotion that she barely realizes is there. "I'm so sorry, I didn't-" recognize him? Finishing the sentence sounds ridiculous in her head, she's sure it would sound even worse aloud, but she quickly reaches out to him with trembling hands to grab onto his shoulders as if afraid that he's going to get up and leave her there. She doesn't want to be alone, although Natasha certainly wouldn't admit as much aloud.

"I didn't mean to..." her eyes are moving around the room again as she trails off; Forks. She's at their home, in their bed, after she and Alice... yes. The more time passes, the more she finds herself coming back into reality. "I don't know what happened," she admits after a lingering silence, her voice small and eyes on the window. Fall. There's no snow. She's warm. For some reason, the realization that it was a dream shakes her again, and Natasha feels another swell of emotion working its way to her throat, her head too clouded to hide it from Jasper even if she tried. "I'm sorry, I'm fine. I'm alright, it - was just a bad dream, I'm fine."

It takes him by surprise when she swings, but even with her speed, he's able to move in time. He almost doesn't, but he doesn't want her hurting herself on him, and in the end that's what makes his decision for him. He's silent as she catches herself up, watches her as she grounds herself on him and in the room, and as her emotions steady themselves into something that reflects what she's seeing now, not what she'd been seeing that had pushed her so off-balance.

He takes the hands on his shoulders as an invitation to move forward, sitting off to her side and linking his fingers around her waist, as always keeping his grip loose enough that she'd slip away easily if need be. "I will never make you feel anything you are not already feeling," he says quietly. "Never. My word on that. It's always going to be your choice. But I can help with this, if you want me to." He doesn't say a word about her lie that she's fine, her attempts to wrestle down everything she's felt, everything she's feeling now. He falls silent after that, leaving it to her to take him up on the offer, or not.

In any other situation Natasha would be actively aware of herself and the way she moves beside him, because they've made so much progress and she knows just how significant that is between them, but the moment that Jasper is close enough to wrap his arms around her waist Natasha is moving into him. She clings to his shirt, fingers curling into fabric as she tries to steady her breathing, and she presses her forehead against his chest with her eyes shut tightly because it's easier that way, if she can't see anything at all. She can reset if she does that, and put herself where she's supposed to be which is here with him, and not in the frozen tundra ten years ago.

Inviting anyone, even Jasper, to manipulate her emotions willingly immediately sends up a red flag, but she's too shaken to care in the moment. He's found her at a particularly vulnerable time. "Please," she pleads with him, giving a small nod and holding onto him tighter. "Just make it easier, I hate this. I hate this." She says it again with anger hissing, directed at herself instead of at him. Her next words are nearly inaudible, whispered at the end of a breath. "I can't wait until I never have to sleep again."

If anyone had told him a few months back that the thirst catching in his throat would someday be almost an afterthought, he would never have entertained the idea. Yet here he is, pulling her close, turning his head to rest his cheek against her hair. He reaches out very carefully to cradle her violent tangle of emotions. It would be easy to just suppress them all, send her to sleep, it's what he'd done to countless newborns for decades, but Natasha deserves more than that.

"I've done this with Alice," he murmurs, motionless as he focuses on the panic and the fear and the sorrow and eases them with a sensation like a cooling ointment on an angry burn. "The things she's seen...aren't always so easy to throw off. Fended off a whole attack once by sharing one of her visions with the Volturi, but it took its toll on her. One minute she was smiling and waving goodbye to some of our visitors, the next, on the floor sobbing." His voice stays quiet and steady, his touch still light on what she's feeling. "I did this for her then. She asked me to. You won't wake on your own again."

It could be the soothing lilt of his voice or the fact that he's actively trying to calm her; maybe it's both. Either way, Natasha can feel herself ease, the pounding of her heart slowing into more acceptable territory, and breathing comes easier. Natasha doesn't realize that she's shaking her head against him until she speaks, her voice already calmer with the sooth that he manages to place over her. "You don't have to do that." Because that's not what she wants; she doesn't want to feel as if they, the people who are trying to love her, need to babysit her as she sleeps.

It takes another lingering moment before she's able to look up at him, eyes still somewhat red from the tears that she still can't remember, but she reaches up to brush his hair from his eyes with a tender touch. Not because she needs to, but because she wants the contact right now and doesn't know how to reach out for it in any other way. "This happens sometimes." She takes a deep, somewhat rattling breath to ease herself more. "It's nothing, it hasn't happened in a while, I don't- I'm not sure why it happened tonight, I'm usually under a lot more stress when I...you know."

There's no judgment on his face when she's able to look at him, not even any sorrow or pity, just acceptance that this is the way things are for the time being. If all goes well, if her meeting the family goes as well as Jasper is hoping it will, she'll be changed within a week. Most humans would balk at the idea of never sleeping again, but she'll be leaving behind her nightmares.

"I won't stop you from trying to explain yourself, but I think we both know I don't find it at all a necessity," he says mildly, soothing away the last traces of the dream-inspired emotions and leaving it at that. She's still upset, but he isn't going to do more than he needs to. She deserves as little interference as possible. "I can read as well in here as anywhere else in the house, and besides." He leans forward to press his lips to her forehead, then before he can think better of it or change his mind, dips his head enough to brush her mouth in a brief and careful kiss, and continues in a whisper. "Keeping you company may be something that I've wanted to do."

At first Natasha's lips press together into a thin line, because yes, she knows that she doesn't need to explain herself and yet she feels it necessary to do so anyway. This isn't like her; shaking with fright in the aftermath of something that isn't real in the first place. Yet there's no way for Jasper to know that, he doesn't know the reputation that she carries on her shoulders. Jasper isn't aware of just how foolish this all really is, or how none of the people in her life would believe him if he retold the story, not that she thinks he ever would. This simply isn't Natasha; or it is, and she doesn't know it. That's possible, she knows, considering the fact that she barely knows who she truly is in the first place.

She can feel the last of her fear seeping away but it's the kiss, chaste and careful, that pulls her head out of the darkness. It takes effort - almost everything she has - not to chase after him, emotionally desperate for more. Instead she manages a quiet and shaky laugh, fingers still curled into his shirt, and she looks up at him with wide eyes that that ask him to stay there with her because she knows she'll never be able to find the words to convey that it's what she needs.

"I don't think I'd be good company asleep," she points out weakly, and after a moment of hesitation Natasha leans up to press another kiss to his cool lips, still chaste but purposeful this time and lingering. It's good for her too, the amount of effort she has to put in for self control. When she parts from him, she holds his shirt to try and keep him close. "...I don't think I'm going to be getting much sleep tonight anyway."

It doesn't take any sort of heightened senses to tell how much she wants him to stay. The grip she has on his shirt, the way she's being careful not to chase him off, it's more than enough, and it's all unnecessary. He's already made up his mind to stay, for the rest of tonight, and tomorrow night, and every time she's forced by her human nature to rest and risk her nightmares taking hold again. If that isn't what she wants, that's different.

His fingers slide through her hair, a soothing back-and-forth as he presses into the kiss himself, relishing a little the living heat of her, basking in it for as long as he's allowed to have it. And then that gives him pause. Even if there's been no corresponding searing spike in arousal, is that what she wants? He's gone entirely still again, suddenly very aware of her state of undress beneath the thin sheet, likely straight into bed from the shower, and why wouldn't she? There had been no way to predict her nightmares would bring him running like this.

"Don't feel you need to keep yourself awake on my account," he says after a moment, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I think it's for me to say, isn't it? I might find you delightful company, even asleep. It is something of a novelty, after all."

There's a sense of satisfaction that comes with kissing Jasper that Natasha hadn't expected, and it's there because she knows how much she's had to work for it. Realistically speaking Natasha has never had to work for the attention of any man, and although Jasper was never really a 'target' of hers, none of this was expected. Her lips are brushing against his, tracing the outline of his mouth before she feels it; a sudden change in his demeanor.

For a moment she falls still as well, as if uncertain as to whether or not she's pushed him too far again, but it doesn't take long for her to recognize what's happened. Only then does she realize that she's bare beneath the sheets, pressed up against him warm and almost needy, and although Natasha tilts her head into his touch she makes sure to keep her sheet steady to cover herself. Not for her, ironically, but for him.

"Novelty for you, perhaps," she counters with a weak smile, her eyes moving up to his face. "I can't sleep again after that or I'll fall back in. I need to give myself time."

There's a pause, as if she's uncertain whether or not she should mention anything, but in the end Natasha has never been truly shy. "Did I push you or is it just because I'm naked?" Her free hand moves out of his shirt so that she can push her messed hair out of her face to see him clearly. "Because I can put a shirt on." She'd rather not, but the poor thing is acting like he does when he wants to eat her. Which is... probably more attractive to Natasha than it should be, she makes a mental note to figure out that part of herself at a later date. "If you really want me to. If you're staying."

Her direct way of addressing the subject is something that shouldn't surprise him at all, even in this short time, and yet it still does. The question prompts a quiet laugh, and he ducks his head with a half-smile before glancing back at her, a little speculative now. It's a risk, a huge risk to both of them, and he doesn't know if he can trust himself with her. Alice hadn't mentioned, or even hinted, that something might happen between Jasper and Natasha when she'd been with him earlier.

"Maybe a little from both sides," he says, and pointedly keeps his eyes on her face. "You pushing me is certainly nothing new. I haven't yet had any experience of you being naked. I don't feel a need to put you out by requesting you be otherwise, but I am staying. I suppose that leaves it up to you."

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