He lifts his head and looks her in the eyes. His eyes are squinting like he's looking for some sort of of memory that's hiding in his brain. Working for it trying to picture her dancing in a strip club but instead he just shakes his head.

"Did you murder someone with your hairpins, Natasha?" He asks curiously, wondering if that was the actual mission that he was thinking of. A shiver runs down his spine as the thinking about it. He knows she's the best Widow that ever was made out of the red room, but there's still something terrifying about the ruthlessness of that level of killing.

And hot, something very very hot about it. He moves to straddle her as he waits for a response.