What can I say? The Black Widow movie inspired me to fill in some gaps in Natasha's time between the end of the movie and the breakout at the Raft. 😊
Nick hit send on his phone and waited for a response. He'd seen the reports Hill had forwarded about swaths of an unnamed American forest damaged by massive amounts of twisted metal and fiery debris and had pondered who might be to blame. It was admittedly a long list of potential culprits, so he decided to reach out to Natasha to see if she had any knowledge about it. Guess she's still keeping tabs on her old back channels of communication, he thought as a reply message popped up on his phone from an unfamiliar number instructing him to call another unfamiliar number. He punched it in and waited as the call connected.
"Yeah," she said in greeting.
"Well hello to you too."
"Forgive me for my lack of small talk," she replied dryly, and he swore he could hear her roll her eyes. "Got a few pots on the stove, as they say."
"Yeah, I heard about some of those. Fancy meeting up for some drinks? Maybe I can help you with some of those pots."
She was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, alright. Couldn't hurt, I suppose."
"Send me the details. I'll be there."
He got a message not long after, through separate channels, with instructions for him to meet her at a café somewhere in Ohio. Really, Romanoff. Ohio?! At least go somewhere Ross doesn't have jurisdiction…
"Well, look at what the cat dragged in," he drawled as she slid into the booth across from him. New hair colour at least, he noted. At least she's not totally ignoring her fugitive status.
"Where is Goose these days?" she volleyed back easily.
"With an old friend."
"Didn't think you had any of those."
He arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, well, there's a lot you don't know about me. Not like I tell you everything."
"Oh, I remember," she replied, and he stared at her.
Her tone wasn't bitter per se, but he heard it all the same. Maybe he deserved that. Not trusting her after Barnes nearly killed him was maybe a bit of an oversight on his part...even if he still believed it had been necessary.
"That's quite the bold change in style," he said with a nod to her short, blonde hair.
"Jealous?" she teased while running her fingers through her hair.
He just glared before opting to move past it altogether. "So, Ohio?"
She shrugged. "What can I say? I'm nostalgic."
He scoffed. "For what? The Midwest? Doesn't Barton have a farm you have a permanent room at for that?"
"Yeah, well, that's not exactly somewhere I can be right now, so I'm taking what I can get." Her delivery wasn't strictly casual, but it wasn't snippy either; if anything, she seemed a bit worn out to him. She paused as she glanced at the counter of the coffee shop. "You want something?"
"Coffee, black. And a croissant if they're any good here."
She bobbed her head once in a nod and he watched her get up from the table and head toward the counter. If he wasn't mistaken, she was walking a little stiffly, which only served to confirm his suspicions that she'd been involved in whatever events led to the reports of massive damage and metal debris strewn across an unnamed forest in the US. Exactly what had happened, he didn't know, but if Romanoff had anything to do with it, it likely was either nefarious to begin with or was personal, otherwise she wouldn't have bothered getting involved given her fugitive status. Also would go a long way to explaining why she seemed a bit tired, since being on the run was old hat to her.
She returned a couple minutes later and slid their order number flag onto their table as well as a large mug of coffee for him and a large mug of some sort of tea for herself. "No croissants," she said as she sat down, "so I got you an apple crumble."
He nodded once while pulling the mug toward him. "How've you been?"
"Oh, you know. Fought some friends in Germany, broke the Accords, betrayed Stark's trust, began evading arrest. The usual."
He held her gaze, searching for the truth of her feelings on her recent events in her expression, since her tone gave away nothing. The delivery was a bit more casual this time, but still…she seemed tired. "I have some questions about that."
"Which part?" she asked idly while stirring her tea.
"All of it," he replied dryly before taking a sip of his coffee. Damn, that's good, he thought, though kept the appreciative smile off his face.
"I assumed you would."
"First, how in the hell did you all screw it up that badly?"
She shrugged, and he was reminded then it was one of things he liked about her - that she didn't take personal offence to a lot of the things he said that most others would. "Politicians got spooked and we all played it wrong."
"I'll say." Fucking understatement, Romanoff.
She stopped her action of bringing her mug up to her lips to take a sip of her tea. "I didn't come here to be scolded," she said as a hint of an arch to her eyebrow appeared.
Oh, there's a tiny bit of warning in that tone, I think, he thought in amusement. "Then it's a good thing I'm not scolding you," he volleyed back easily, watching as she rolled her eyes while sipping her tea. "Why'd you flip flop on the Accords?"
She was quiet as she took another deliberately slow sip of her tea before she put the mug down and responded. "I never believed in them wholly. You know me well enough to know I would never be totally on board with that sort of oversight and control being handed to a group of mostly powerful white men with serious inferiority complexes."
He snorted in amusement. She was right about that. "So why sign them at all?"
"Because I believed if we still had a hand in the process, we could shape things to allow us to compromise where we could and allow some oversight to give them peace of mind."
"Best of both worlds," he summarized, and she nodded. "You had to know it was naive," he said, tilting his head in a silent gesture of emphasis.
She took another sip of her tea. "I didn't see another option."
"If I remember correctly, you told the American government to fuck off after you spilled all SHIELD's secrets onto-"
"Don't pretend you weren't a part of that," she interrupted. "People have somehow made it seem like it was all my decision."
"Then don't pretend that you didn't know that was going to happen," he countered, putting his coffee down. "You agreed to get into SHIELD's files and release-"
"What else was I gonna do, Nick?"
"You didn't have to release everything," he countered. He'd made this exact argument when they'd sat down in that bunker years ago to figure out how to take down Project Insight and Hydra along with it. "You could have held back your own files at least "
"Yeah, because that wouldn't have looked suspicious at all."
"What do you care what it might have looked like?" She just stared at him, saying a hell of a lot with just her expression. "I'm just saying," he defended before taking a sip of his coffee, "would've made your life easier. And by the looks of things now, easier might've been the right play."
Their pause in conversation turned out to be fortuitous, as a teenaged employee delivered their food to them. He glared at the boy when his gaze lingered on Natasha a little too long for his liking. Thankfully, he knew it had nothing to do with recognizing her. No, Nick knew he was thinking with an altogether different organ than his brain. Natasha flashed a polite smile at the kid, and Nick nearly snorted when he stumbled over his own feet as he walked away from the table.
"So, we gonna continue with the small talk, or you gonna tell me what the hell you're doing here in the US when you're a fugitive."
"A little louder, I don't think Ross heard you."
"Please," he scoffed, "you'd be long gone if you were worried about Ross. Probably holed up in some safehouse in Europe. What are you still doing here?"
"Tying up a few loose ends and waiting for a contact to come through with some supplies."
"Loose ends, huh? In Ohio?"
"You say 'Ohio' with such derision," she chastised lightly with a roll of her eyes.
"Don't sidestep the question, Natasha," he warned before bringing his coffee up to his lips for another sip.
"I never promised answers, Nick," she countered firmly, though not unkindly he noted, "but I was led to believe you could help."
"Well, that depends."
"On?"
He makes her wait as he takes a slow, long sip from his coffee. "On if you're in need of anything."
She rolled her eyes. "What do you have for me?"
He put down his coffee and pulled out his phone, tapped on the screen a few times to navigate to some files, then slid it over to her. Her gaze narrowed as she skimmed the information displayed. "What's this?" she asked without looking up.
"Hydra cells."
She frowned deeply and then looked up at him. "How is this gonna help me avoid being captured by Ross and his goons?"
"It's not," Nick conceded, "but it's gonna give you something to do. Unless of course you'd planned on leaving your friends in prison and hiding away in a safehouse in some far-flung corner of the world that doesn't have extradition to the US." She glared at him, half-heartedly he could tell, and seemed to be refusing to dignify his accusation with a response...telling him he'd hit the nail on the head. "I assume you have your exfil op planned already?" He knew she did. She was nothing if not the best.
She held his gaze for another beat before she nodded once and then picked up her fork to take a bite of her cheesecake. "Have to meet up with my partner first though."
"Rogers know your plan?" he asked knowingly.
"Not yet, but he'll be on board," she said confidently.
"Captain America, a fugitive. This world is seriously messed up, you know?"
"You're talking to a woman who was raised from childhood to be an assassin, and Captain America being a fugitive is what you find disturbing?" she countered, and he glared at her for twisting his meaning. She just smirked in response. "If you're not gonna eat that, I'm gonna get a takeaway box for it," she warned while gesturing to his apple crumble.
"Eat your own damn pie," he said, pulling his bowl toward him.
"It's cheesecake," she corrected.
"Do I look like a baker to you?" he deadpanned.
She grinned. "Was that an actual question?"
"I haven't missed you, Romanoff. You and Barton and your goddamned sass," he grumbled.
"Hill is pretty sassy too," Natasha pointed out before taking another bite.
"Yeah, but unlike you two she knows when to quit."
Natasha rolled her eyes again. "So, Hydra cells?" she prompted with a nod of her chin toward his phone.
"Like I told Rogers after we dropped millions of dollars worth of tech into the Potomac," he began, infusing a bit of bitterness into his words because he was still a little grumpy about having lost so much equipment, tech, and assets that day, "a lot of rats didn't go down with the ship. Job's far from over."
Her expression hardened at his bitter tone, and she shot him a look that told him she was unimpressed by his grousing. "More intelligence where that came from?" she asked, nodding to his phone and getting them back on topic.
"What, that isn't enough?" She shot him another unimpressed look and he grinned before taking a bite of his apple crumble. "This ain't half bad, you know," he said appreciatively, gesturing to his bowl with his fork. It had nothing on his mother's baking, but as Midwestern café food went, it wasn't half bad.
"I thought you knew me better than that, Nick. I'm offended that you think I have poor taste in cafés."
They were quiet for a beat as they each enjoyed a few more bites of their respective desserts. "So, you gonna tell me exactly why I've been getting reports about massive amounts of destruction in a forest littered with twisted and half melted metal?"
She looked up at his words. "Don't ask me. I haven't crash landed any flying fortresses lately," she answered with a shrug.
Flying fortress, huh? Interesting. "Anything I should know about what happened while you weren't crash landing things?"
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "You remember Budapest?"
He grimaced. "Yeah, I remember paperwork for years and a smartass Russian assassin joining SHIELD after that. Why?"
She smiled briefly at his reference to her joining SHIELD, before her expression fell to a more serious one. "Wasn't nearly as successful as we were led to believe."
He stared at her, searching for some inkling of how that revelation had impacted her, but she was as unflappable as he remembered. Still, he's pretty sure finding out your former handlers who weren't exactly nominees for humanitarians were still alive and kicking would throw someone for a loop. "Is it handled now?" he asked simply.
She nodded seriously. "I have people taking care of tying up some loose ends."
This came as a surprise to him. She barely trusted Barton and the Avengers with anything from her personal life...who were these people she apparently trusted to clean up the darkest part of her past. "People? Since when do you have people you trust to tie up loose ends when it comes to the Red Room?"
This she bristled at ever so slightly. "There's a lot you don't know about me," she said evenly as she volleyed back his earlier words at him. Yeah, I deserved that one, he thought. "Besides, I've got more friends than you, Nick," she continued.
He took a bite of his apple crumble and held her gaze. Her expression was firm and invited a challenge, which he would all too happily rise to. "Right now, I would question that," he said, choosing to push her buttons a little. Her trusting anyone outside of Barton to help with the Red Room was uncharacteristic to say the least and warranted a little probing.
"I trust them," she emphasized, her gaze hardening further and brooking no further argument, he could tell.
"Alright," he conceded as he leaned back in the booth.
"You need anything from me?" he offered.
She shook her head. "I've got some safehouses that I can pull gear from, and enough of them to keep us hidden for a while at least."
"If that changes, let me know. There are still some old SHIELD bases that were not on the books, and I know for a fact they weren't compromised. They're old, and a bit dusty, but they'll do in a pinch."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Do," he replies firmly, holding her gaze for a moment. She may not be his agent anymore, but he'd always had a bit of a soft spot for her. It was hard to hate her underdog story, especially when she'd been so goddamned efficient as an agent. And the more he got to know her, the more he realized she was much more than an excellent agent. She was cut from the same cloth people like Phil Coulson and Clint Barton were, making her a good egg underneath all the smartass comments she spit out and masks she wore.
She nodded and then focused on taking another small bite of her cheesecake before she looked up again. "How've you been?"
He scoffed. "Oh, you know. Keeping out of trouble."
She arched a brow in amusement. "I'm sure."
"Know anywhere around here that makes good tiramisu?" Her brows rise in a silent question. "Hill likes it," he offered with a shrug.
"You're such a softie, Nick," she teased with a grin.
He glared. "You know a place or not?"
"Tiramisu doesn't travel well," she advised.
"You think I'd come all the way to this god-forsaken town and not drag her along with me?" Natasha chuckled. "If I have to be here, so does she."
"You could have brought her today."
"She's busy trying to coordinate putting out some fires. The Avengers breaking up so publicly means our enemies have taken the opportunity to try and assert themselves." Natasha frowned and opened her mouth to reply but he cut her off, holding up a hand. "We're handling it, and you agreeing to take on some of these Hydra cells will also help. Now, you know a place for tiramisu or not?"
"There's an Italian bakery at the end of the block. Haven't had their tiramisu, but their coffee is good, and the biscotti is homemade, so…"
"Good. Now finish your cheesecake and tell me more about these ghosts of Budapest."
Enjoy this chapter? Have an idea for a future conversation? Let me know! 😊
More to come...