Natasha could feel their eyes on her but she ignored them, keeping her face a mask of cool indifference. There was always the risk that someone here might recognise her from her pre-SHIELD days, but she had been younger than and most men who had met her had never lived to tell the tale. It was a chance she had to take. More attention was drawn to her once they had taken their place, but soon the auction began and they were no longer of much interest to most.

Listening to the bids, she looked as interested as any brainless eye candy would with such hefty prices flying around, but her whole body stiffened momentarily when Stevenson suddenly cried out at her side and grabbed his arm. Sizing up the guard, she wrapped one arm possessively around Stevenson’s chest, inconspicuously yet effectively shielding his wounded arm with her body.

“Excuse me,” she said, glaring at the guard. “He’s mine. Find your own date.”