The redhead sits up as she recovers consciousness and meets the many faces surrounding her. She's somewhere in between spy mode and utter shock, lacking a proper explanation for Bruce to be crouching directly across for her ex husband. It's unexplainable.
Natasha gestures with a point for each of them, "Bruce this is…Alexei. Alexei, Bruce."
The physicist looks as if he's about to kill Alexei as he slowly removes a gentle hand from Natasha's forehead.
"Alexei…?" His questions lingers in the air, awaiting clarification.
Natasha stands and brushes herself off with a focus low and on the floor to avoid the inevitable conversation she needs to have.
Her ex husband is alive, standing in front of her current spouse, and matching the described trenchcoated nemesis she's supposed to be hunting for.
"Shostakov," Natasha finally answers.
Bruce drops his jaw with a forced laugh, cheeks blushing red with just a hint of green in his neck, "…you're kidding."
Natasha's vodka has gone up her stomach, lingering in the back of her throat with a persistent prodding for release.
Puking all over the lobby might be inevitable.
Alexei offers a large hand toward the doctor in an attempt to greet the shorter man.
Alexei is tall, muscular, and built for a war with cheek and jaw bones that could cut through femur. He's Thor on steroids with lingering battle scars.
Bruce's chest is rising and falling a bit more rapidly. His breathing is almost as shallow as Natasha's, intimated and suspicious.
"How?" Romanoff starts with little need to elaborate.
Alexei drops his hand upon realizing Bruce has no intention of shaking it and responds with a thick Russian accent;
"That's a story for another time."
"You died," Natasha's whisper cracks, protective layers peeling away to reveal a broken widow. Someone hurt.
"I did not."
Bruce crossed his arms with a huff. He leans against the back of a lobby sofa to hold his weight, "You've got to do better than that."
"Who are you?"
"Her husband."
"Bruce as in, Doctor Robert Bruce Banner? The infamous physicist? Should you be in New York?"
"Shouldn't you be dead?" He spews defensively.
"Alright, that's enough. I'm not sitting with either of you if there's going to be a war," Natasha lifts a hand after judging the rage building in his stare and the more judgmental one in Alexei's.
"Fate had other ideas after the plane crash," Alexei mumbles.
Natasha visibly shivers over the mention of his 'accident'. Bruce checks on her with his focus, watching her breathe deeper.
Even though she appears composed to any onlooker, he knows better. Natasha is completely rattled.
Alexei motions toward the circle of chairs and two sofas, "Should we sit?"
Bruce crosses his arms with a standoffish grin, closed off and uninterested in conversation despite his curiosity and sitting at Natasha's silent request
"…you never thought to reach out to Nat? Why did you let her grieve?"
Alexei shrugs with a thick eyebrow lifting in response, "Ivan said it was better."
"Ivan…You've been in touch with Petrovich," Natasha's jaw clicks into place.
"Yes. He has been there for me."
Bruce brushes his lip, elbow on the sofa's arm rest while he starts to go off in a mix of muttered Hindi and Urdu.
"I can't understand a word you're saying," Natasha rubs at her eye with a whisper.
Banner leans forward, back to his forced smile while he tugs at his fingers, "Anyone connected to Ivan probably hates me…hates us. Why are you in Italy?"
"Business," Alexei snaps.
Natasha's arm falls with a knock on the nearby table, "Did you know I was alive? Did Ivan tell you-."
"I know everything, Natalia."
She nods, shifting in her chair to cross a knee, "Okay. I'm going to move this conversation along a bit if you don't mind. There's a team of agents that can and will swarm this lobby if I-."
"You tap your alarm when we make eye contact."
She exhales, "At least your vision works."
"Ivan is coming, perhaps, much closer than your agents."
"Are you both about to be arrested, Alexei?"
His grin sends a shiver up her spine, "You have no proof of anything illegal."
"Malyshka!"
"Bohze moi," Natasha can feel the tension building as she forces a deep inhale and exhale, uninterested in Ivan's arrival and impending embrace.
"Hi Ivan," Bruce waves sarcastically over being completely ignored. He stacks an ankle over his opposite knee, talking to himself, "I'm a little shook up and pissed off, thanks for asking. How are you?"
Ivan proceeds as if Bruce doesn't exist, gesturing toward Alexei, "I see you have reunited?"
Natasha stands with a huff, fists clenching at her sides as she goes off in Russian to ask how long Ivan has known about Alexei.
"Does it matter, my daughter?"
"Don't, you, dare!" The redhead grits her teeth and draws her weapon without a second thought.
"Tasha," Bruce stands in a hurry, calling softly, "Put it away."
She breathes heavily and holds her aim over Ivan with a tearful focus;
" Nenavizhu tebya… "
"Tasha?,' Bruce calls out toward the redhead with a soft voice, stepping closer, 'Nat you gotta breathe. It's okay…"
"It's not, we both know it's not,' she laughs coldly, 'I need to know what's going on and now."
"Natalia-."
"Shut up!" She snaps toward her ex-husband, "I'm done talking."
"Natasha,' Bruce tries again, moving closer as he attempts to keep his own temper under wraps and holds her shoulder, 'Tasha, I love you- we'll figure it out; Put the gun away. Let's keep this civil."
The redhead holds her aim for an extra moment, consenting to lower her weapon only for the foursome to be almost ambushed by the law enforcement.
Maria charges forward with a raised fake badge and broken Italian, "The boss sent me. I'll handle this."
"We have been unable to locate a death certificate for Alexei Shoshtakov," Maria says as she enters the room where Fury, Clint and Natasha are waiting. She waits silently against the wall of Italy's SHIELD headquarters.
Romanoff holds her head and taps at the table, grateful to have Clint beside her; "What the hell does that mean? It's a public record!"
Maria lifts a shoulder, "We're looking, the legal team is searching- we can't find it. It's as if it just vanished. It's not even in our own records."
"So we have a mole. Someone desperate to make my private life hell."
"Or mess with your mind," Clint mutters with his arms crossed tightly.
His eyes are red over the flight he immediately hopped upon realizing Natasha was in trouble.
"He died. He was dead I, moved on," Natasha grumbles and holds her head.
Fury leans forward in a nearby chair, "We could take it to court. Jennifer Walters-."
"He'd get public attention and walk away with a fine. We'd be jeopardizing the entire mission and force his accomplices further underground… And Jen would kill me," she clasps her fingers, "Can we confirm with certainty that he is my target?"
Nick lifts a shoulder, hesitant to answer, "All signs point to Alexei."
"Can I get any more information on this assignment?"
Fury glances toward Maria who immediately looks at the ground, "Stolen intel, an attempted assassination of a political figure- crooked, but an assassination attempt non the less. And this just in; A kidnapped boy described to be around 10 years old? No idea as to the connection- why is this in my folder, Fury?!"
"Parents?"
"No documentation, no social security number, no identity. A woman called in to say 'her street is safe with the baby hoodlum gone'…All we have are local reports saying the boy was 'last seen with a tall figure in a trench coat'."
Natasha scoffs and holds her grin, "Great."
Clint huffs, "Maybe he ran away. Joined the circus."
"Not now, Barton. The boy stays on file, Hill,' Fury cuts in, 'This situation just took a turn. Our target is close to you-."
"Which means I have an edge no other agent has. I can get through to him..I can do this," she nods, trying to reassure herself as well as the rest of the room.
Clint scoffs, "The likelihood of Ivan being a core player in whatever the hell is going on here feels unbelievably high."
"And if we're wrong,' Fury says, 'Then we're wasting our time and the energy of our top spy."
Natasha grinds her teeth, focusing on a grain in the middle of the table, "We're not wrong. They have ties to Black Ops. The Widow program…If Alexei had nothing to hide he would've sought me out years ago to rejoin their cult. I can do this."
"I'll stay in Russia-," Clint offers.
"You don't have to."
"I want to. Someone needs to be close by to look after you."
She smirks when he pays her shoulder.
Maria speaks up, "Legalities? How should we proceed for you personally?"
Natasha takes an inhale, "I want to ensure that my marriage to Shoshtakov was annulled, I want all of it erased outside of one forged copy for the sake of the mission."
The redhead takes another breath, pulling at the sleeves of her borrowed sweater while she toys with the ring on her finger.
Clint has his eyes on her, questioning her every move without having to ask.
"I'm fine," Natasha whispers with as much conviction as she can muster.
The physicist bites his cheek, guarded when Natasha enters the hotel room. She turns to face his colder stance hoping to break through a vacant stare and crossed arms as they enter their space;
"Bruce, I'm sorry. I didn't know Alexei would be a part of this."
He leaves his phone screen face up, displaying her last text message request to meet in the room where they're standing, "This isn't your fault. I just, don't know how to react."
"Talk to me?"
Bruce shakes his head 'no', "What happened with Fury?"
"We believe Alexei is my target. Obviously he's a loose cannon with connections to Black Ops. If we pull on the wrong thread without enough information…They have members and ex members everywhere. I can't risk him retreating underground. I have to go with them."
She drifts upon realizing he's barely paying attention. His concern is for her safety, not the mission.
Natasha licks her lip and clasps her hands together, "The point is I can convince Alexei trusts me. And Ivan would want nothing more than for me to go back to Russia. I can use this to my own advantage."
He rubs his face, hand settling over his mouth with wider eyes, "So, you're going to Russia."
Natasha nearly chokes on her swallow, "I'm going to Russia."
"With Alexei and Ivan."
"Yes," she says weakly.
He scoffs, pacing and reaching behind himself for the edge of the bed, "And, what, work the truth out of them?"
She shrugs.
"For how long?" He asks.
Natasha focuses downward, "I'm not expecting you to wait for me but I have to do this."
"I know."
"If you're angry, I understand,' she sits beside him on the edge of the bed, 'I'm furious. But, Maria is working on the legalities. All that's left is the…"
"The mission?"
"Yes. I understand if you're angry, I would be furious."
"I'm not happy. I'm ready to tear up Italy because…Tasha, your whole demeanor changed with Alexei. And then anytime Ivan shows up, you go dark," he answers quietly and tugs at his fingers, "Look I'm, not mad at you. I just need a plan. Okay? I'm not leaving you alone with them. If it means I'm watching from a distance or you find some way to check in-."
"It's too dangerous."
"I knew you'd say that. But I'm not going home without you. And I need to make sure you're okay. I know you want to help, I know you need to complete every mission left in your file but your sanity comes first."
Natasha tilts her head, reaching to touch his cheek when they turn to face each other, "I don't want you to follow me to Russia just to wait for me-."
"-If you're there, I'm there," he holds her hand where it is.
She shakes her head, eyes soft, "Vrach."
"It's okay. I'd rather find some curbside to sleep on than be an ocean away. I'm used to laying low, I can stay under the radar...it's my specialty. You're not alone anymore."
Natasha takes a breath and nods with a forced grin. He leans forward to capture her mouth, hands gently holding and guiding her chin.