Holding Pattern
Natasha ran the length of uneven sidewalk avoiding broken bits of concrete in the apartment complex and deftly dodging puddles from the unexpected downpour, thankful for her quick reflexes and acrobatic abilities. It was good to know all her spy training was being put to good use while she was lying low in the aftermath of Project Insight's destruction.
Try as she might, though, it was an exercise in futility to keep the contents of her Whole Foods recyclable bag dry from the pelting rain. A bolt of lightning scarred the sky as she jumped another large puddle. She had finished her shift at Utah Olympic Park and just wanted to get home and try out one of the Five-Things-You-Never-Thought-to-Do-with-Tomatoes recipes she saw online that morning before work. Natasha could count on one hand the number of times she'd cooked a meal in the past year and worried that this seemingly simple recipe might be harder to assemble than The Avengers.
She had almost navigated through the jagged concrete sidewalk and puddles to the dryness a clump of evergreen trees offered when she heard a scream.
"Damn," she muttered.
In a fairly crime-free city, she managed to hole up in the one sector that, according to the local news, had a couple of men mugging women. And, of course, they seemed to be targeting her apartment complex. It was an older complex with lots of dark shadows and narrow walkways with foliage that had grown over the years providing lots of hiding spaces for anybody wanting to flex their mugging muscles.
Natasha didn't have to make a decision as she might have done years ago before Clint saved her from the manipulative managings of the Red Room. She acted on instinct. Hoping her tomatoes wouldn't bust open, she tied the handles of her reusable bag and tossed it under the trees before darting in the direction of the trouble. A low rumble of thunder sounded across the sky just as she rounded a corner. She entered a deep recess of the brick building hidden from the one street lamp at the edge of the main sidewalk. Lightning followed the rumbling thunder and illuminated the evening sky full of dark, stormy clouds. In the flickering light, Natasha scanned the scene unfolding before her.
Two men closed in on a woman clutching her purse tightly. The shiny edge of a knife held in the air was her first priority. Natasha sprinted a few short steps and banked off the brick wall.
"Watch out!" one of the men shouted to his accomplice as the flash of Natasha's canary yellow Olympic Park shirt gave her away in the darkened corner of the crime.
The warning came too late.
She catapulted into the knees of her target. He quickly crumpled to the wet pavement, pooling rain splashed wildly into the air. His knife flew safely into a tangle of bushes several feet away. She somersaulted and spun around, remaining low to the ground in a crouched position.
"Fuckin' hell-" The man shook his head and attempted to get up.
Natasha sprung up like a tiger on the kill and delivered an elbow strike to the man's temple. He groaned and fell back to the ground, unconscious. She bounced upright, light on her feet, and faced the remaining mugger.
"Ya wanna play rough?" the man taunted. He towered over Natasha by at least ten inches with broad shoulders and muscles to match. He pulled out a knife of his own and flicked the six-inch blade open. "I got your rough right 'ere. Come and get it."
Another crack of lightning filled the sky as Natasha tilted her head and smirked. "I really shouldn't level down to play with amateurs," she said, her voice smooth and soft. "But I'll make an exception in your case."
As they circled each other, Natasha glanced over to the woman crouched against the wall. "Hey, Tide Girl," she recognized her from when she borrowed detergent a few times in the complex's laundry room. Natasha could fly a jet plane and solve coin algorithms in her sleep, but she couldn't remember to bring detergent when doing a load of laundry. "Call 911."
"Scared ya might need help," the man sneered.
"No," Natasha lunged with the speed to match the lightning streaking across the clouds. "Just a courtesy call for your ambulance ride after I break your jaw."
She grabbed his forearm. He reached for her brown hair, sopping wet in the rain, but Natasha deflected his hand with a quick side swipe of her other arm. She administered a brutal roundhouse kick to his jaw. Crack! His jaw broke, and he was done. Staggering backward, he tripped over his partner and joined him in the land of the unconscious.
Natasha allowed herself a small smile as she pushed a wet tendril away from her cheek.
"How did you-? Where did you-?" the woman by the wall came forward, stammering.
"Ah, nothing a few self-defense classes couldn't handle. Men like these never anticipate a woman being able to handle herself." Natasha looked the woman over. "Are you hurt?"
"No. Thanks to you," she said. "I'm so glad you came by. My name's Emily. What's yours?"
"Tania," Natasha answered. She decided to go with Tania Robinson as her latest alias. "Look, these guys are knocked out cold. Trust me. And," she hesitated, "I'd rather not be around when the cops and paramedics arrive. Can you handle things from here, Emily?"
"Sur...sure. Go ahead."
"Just stay under this overhang where you'll be out from the rain for a few minutes. Looks like you just caught the two creeps terrorizing the complex tonight," Natasha winked at her.
"Me?"
"Yep," Natasha answered, smiling. "See ya in the laundry room." She backtracked to pick up the soaked bag from under the trees and darted up the steps to her apartment . . . and kitchen where she would attempt to make the tomato recipe. "Something tells me knocking out two goons mugging a woman in an alley is much easier than making Tomato Strawberry Bruschetta," she mumbled as she walked into her apartment.
A/N: I had not seen Cap 2: TWS until our vacation two weeks ago. It was so good, I watched it on both flights! Anyway, the idea of what Natasha would do while "lying low" invaded my brain. This story will have one, maybe two, more chapters depending on how my fingers fly over the keyboard.
Also, I apologize to my followers of "Worth the Trouble". I have left y'all hanging, but I have been on vacation and then this story grabbed my attention. I'll get to that one soon. :))