Fandom: Avengers

Character(s): Black Widow/Natasha R. | Winter Soldier/Bucky B. | Iron Man/Tony S. | Spider-Man/Peter P.

Pairing(s): Tony/Pepper, Clint/Laura, mentions of past Natasha/Bucky

Warning(s): AU, mature themes, violence, dark imagery, brief references to abortion, spoilers through Captain America: Civil War, possible mild spoilers for Black Widow

The misting sleet whipped against Natalia's face like a shower of buckshock as she loitered beneath the awning of a conveniently placed tea shop. The day was damp and rather raw, but she was warm enough with her fur coat and a steaming cup of Oolong to keep an attentive eye on the fruit market across the street. (The fruit market where Drita Çela went most mornings to shop.)

Natalia had been staking the place out for nearly a week, but she had yet to see the late Admir's sister make an appearance. Understandable, perhaps, given recent happenings – but annoying nonetheless. Natalia had put a lot of work into cultivating a relationship with Drita, and she needed her finger on the pulse of what was happening in Sardis' circle now more than ever. What was going to happen now that a prominent member of the business web was dead? She needed to know...but none of her efforts to make contact thus far had born much fruit. Sardis and his acquaintances seemed to be closing their ranks.

She sighed, rubbing a hand absentmindedly beneath her coat over her abdomen; a nervous habit that, to Natalia's dismay, had somehow lodged itself into her routine so that it was utterly involuntary. It wasn't good...but she just couldn't seem to stop.

The sleet stopped, turning to a cold, misting rain before clearing off entirely. People began to emerge from their homes and taxis, moving back and forth as they took advantage of the break in the weather to move around without getting soaked. Passing cars and scooters kicked up great sprays of water that spattered down on the pavement mere inches from where Natalia had stationed herself. (She heaved another sigh and reflected on how much she disliked stakeouts.)

Then - finally! A familiar face.

Abandoning the last dregs of her tea, Natalia darted across the street and started bobbing and weaving through the other pedestrians to catch up with her target.

"Lidia!" She called, ducking around an old man holding a Pomeranian. "Lidia, wait!"

At the call, Sardis' wife paused and glanced over her shoulder, and this gave Natalia a chance to catch up with the other woman and take her arm.

"Oh!" She panted (gone were the days when the Black Widow could run a mile and barely break a sweat), "Oh, I'm so glad I caught you. I've been meaning to catch up for a while n...guter Gott! You look terrible, Lidia. Is everything all right?"

Lidia's gray-blue eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Klara!" She cried, looking distressed. "Something terrible has happened!"

"What? What is it?"

Biting her lip, Lidia glanced around the street surreptitiously before she pulled Natalia to the side, leaned in, and spoke in a low voice. "You know Drita." It was not a question but a statement, and Natalia only nodded silently in response. Lidia went on. "It is terrificante, Klara! Drita's brother Admir has been murdered."

Natalia let her mouth fall open in shock. "Murdered!" She parroted, eyes wide. "Admir?!"

"Yes." Lidia looked slightly ill. "He went up to one of our warehouses late Thursday night, and...and when they came in the next morning, he was just there. Dead."

"Ach nein!" Natalia pressed one hand to her lips in simulated horror and pity. "And Drita? How is she?"

"She hasn't left the house since the word came."

Natalia shook her head mournfully. "The poor thing! ...Do you think it would be alright if I dropped by some day?"

Lidia indicated the bag slung over her shoulder. "I'm just going now to do the shopping for her. If you have the time, come with me and we'll take everything over to Drita's house together."

Despite the suggestion being exactly something that she would want, Natalia still waffled, not wanting to appear suspiciously eager. "Are you sure?" She demured. "I would hate to intrude..."

"Nonsense!" Lidia gestured emphatically, and smiled for the first time since the whole conversation began. "You are our friend! I'm sure it will do Drita a world of good to see you."

Carefully, Natalia returned the smile. "Well!" She said. "With an assurance like that, how can I say no?"

The atmosphere when Natalia walked into the Çelas' townhouse was nothing short of sepulchral. The house was felt dark and oppressive and almost stale. Curtains covered the windows, voices rustled softly in the parlor, and the whole place was as gloomy on the inside as Tirana's weather was outside.

Natalia took the basket of bread and followed Lidia through the house. They found Drita, pale-faced and red-eyed, curled up on a kind of low divan. She was flanked on either side by two women who Natalia did not recognize.

"Hello, ladies!" Lidia called, voice just a touch too loud and bright for the setting. "Look who I found at the market."

Drita looked up dully, but her expression lifted just a margin as she saw Natalia standing there. "Klara." She said quietly, pushing herself to a standing position and trying in vain to smooth down the wrinkles on her dress. "It's so good to see you. Can I get you anything?"

Natalia set the bread down on a side table and rushed forward to kiss Drita's cheek in greeting. "None of that." She said firmly, taking the woman's cold hands between her own. "I didn't come here for you to have to do things for me." She paused and took in Drita's trembling lips with a frown. "How are you?"

There was a beat.

Then Drita let out a little, shuddering cry and crumpled. "He was only going to be gone for an hour!" She moaned in rapid Albanian, both hands coming up to cover her face as she dropped back down onto the divan like a discarded rag doll. "Oh, oh, God, help me!"

Natalia immediately sank down beside the distraught woman and started murmuring soothing nonsensicals in English and German, rubbing Drita's trembling back consolingly.

Lidia and the other two tactfully excited the room.

Drita sobbed great, wracking, heaving sobs, clinging to Natalia's arm fiercely and gasping out broken little sentences in Albanian. Natalia held on to her tightly, waiting until the crying spell lessened and Drita seemed to regain control of herself.

Then she passed the woman a handkerchief.

"Faleminderit." Drita murmured, curling her fingers around the white fabric. They sat in silence for a while, while Drita's breath hitched and slowly calmed. "Oh, Klara," She murmured, turning wet, searching eyes onto Natalia's face. "I'm sorry. It is...it is so...how did you bear it?"

Recalling swiftly Klara Wagner was supposed to have been recently widowed, Natalia tightened her grip on Drita's shoulders and pushed her lips into a mirthless smile, blinking rapidly once or twice as if she was holding back answering tears. "It isn't easy." She said softly, patting the shaking shoulder underneath her hand and debating whether or not to add a slight tremble to her voice for extra effect. "I...I believe it will get easier. Will you, I mean, will you be running Admir's office on your own now?"

"No." Drita sniffed and blew her nose. "Besa - my niece - she will help. She is..." A new welling-up of tears, "She was my brother's...eh, the word? Assistant?"

"Have I met her yet?"

Drita nodded towards the hallway. "She's here today. We're trying to plan the...the funeral."

The two ladies sat together and talked quietly for a good, long time, Natalia playing the part of the perfect shoulder to cry on. She was comforting, encouraging, gentle and probing by turns. She made up stories about Klara's dead husband (Georg Wagner, equestrian enthusiast and free-verse poet) and listened sympathetically as Drita tearfully recounted some of her own cherished memories. And, while Natalia wasn't able to extract much during their conversation, she did notice that Drita was regarding her with ever increasing friendship and gratitude. Which was useful.

Eventually, Drita calmed down somewhat – and was even able to introduce Natalia to her niece and sister-in-law whenever they re-entered the room.

Besa (the niece) was a tall, thin girl with auburn hair and a perpetually-suspicious expression. She nodded flatly whenever Natalia expressed condolences for her loss and answered all questions with bland, one-word answers. Admir's estranged wife, Chrysanthe, on the other hand, was very emotional and effusive. Natalia was interested to learn that she was actually Sardis' cousin, but – to her disappointment – Chrysanthe's loose lips were only devoted to extolling and re-extolling the virtues of her late husband.

That is, whenever she wasn't guzzling from the glass of wine that her left hand was clutching like its life depended on it.

Both she and Besa both seemed to view 'Klara' as an interloper; an intruder on Drita's space. (Which was strange, as neither of them seemed particularly close to Admir's sister.) But Natalia couldn't see any point in cultivating a closer relationship with either lady if they were going to be so cold, and, after a few minutes of stilted conversation, she excused herself and left the room.

She found Lidia in the kitchen, wiping down the same lid of the same preserves jar over and over as, wide-eyed, she stole anguished glances towards the sitting room.

"Thank you, Klara." She murmured as Natalia stepped up next to her and started putting the milk into the fridge. "You're a good friend."

Natalia just sighed. "Poor Drita." She said, glancing sideways at Lidia, who looked pained.

"Oh, I can't even tell you!" She said, wringing her hands slightly. "It's been dreadful, and I never know what to do. I'm...I'm so glad you're here. I think you're the only person I know who might be able to understand what Drita's going through."

"What about Besa?"

Lidia looked away and became suddenly awkward. "Sì." She said hesitantly. "I suppose Besa might. Though," She bit her lip and seemed to debate with herself for a moment or two before adding: "Though it isn't as if they were really father-and-daughter, if you know what I mean."

"Oh?" Natalia perked up her ears. "I mean, no. I don't follow."

"They used to have these terrible fights." Lidia's voice dropped to a whisper, and she seemed rather troubled, eyes darting all around the kitchen as she spoke. "Admir and Chrysanthe have lived together and split up no less than three times since I've been here, and he and Besa never really seemed to get along. She had all kinds of ideas about the way the firm should be run, and they would argue about it any time they were in the same room."

"Goodness!"

"Yes, once at a company dinner..." Seeming to realize suddenly just where she was standing and what they were talking about, Lidia abruptly cut off and gave herself a little shake. "...But I don't want to speak ill of the dead." She said, promptly changing the subject. "We are having a little get-together on Friday night - just to welcome Besa into the business as a full-time member. Would you be able to come?"

Natalia thought fast. The introduction of Besa into Sardis' web was going to change the dynamic - especially since she and Çela had such differences of opinion - and she would need to include that in her report. And maybe, once out of the uncomfortable atmosphere of her aunt's grief and her mother's intoxication, Besa would prove to be a more affable acquaintance than she had seemed today. She could be a very helpful connection.

'Klara Wagner' smiled softly and slipped the wheel of hard cheese into the cabinet. "I would be happy to come, Lidia. And just let me know if you need any help organizing anything."

Lidia's eyes sparkled with gratitude. "Grazie, Klara - thank you!"

TBC...