because I adored the banter between Natasha and Mason in the Black Widow movie
enjoy!
"You sure you're good, Nat?" Barton asks, eyeing the woman seated on the ground sipping a beer.
"Ask me one more time and you're gonna find out just how sure I am," she replies and Rick can hear the threat in her tone, even if it was not so subtly wrapped up in a teasing lilt.
"Fine, but if you bleed out, you have to explain it to Coulson." Rick stifles his laugh and uses his hand to hide his grin at Barton's comment. The level of bickering between the two of them was beyond ridiculous sometimes.
"Yeah, yeah, get out of here already," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Barton flips his middle finger at her — which she, of course, returns breezily with her own — and then heads back to the safehouse. "I'd keep your distance," he warns as he walks past Rick, who's leaning against the house on the deck with a now neutral expression, "she's grumpy."
Rick offers a nod at the unsolicited advice and waits for Barton to disappear into the house before he grabs two beers from the cooler and makes his way over to her. He holds out a beer as a peace offering and stays silent, waiting for her to react.
"Thanks," she says before she drains the last few dregs of her current bottle and accepts the one he's offering. "Decided to ignore Barton's advice?"
Rick chuckles, unsurprised she'd heard Barton's warning to him. "Well, I hadn't planned on badgering you about any injuries you may or may not have, so the way I see it, I figure I'm probably safe."
"You would be, yes," she confirms with a smile and then gestures for him to join her. "Been awhile. How've you been?"
"Oh, you know. Same old shit," he answers as he takes a seat on the dock beside her.
"Hear hear," she replies while holding up her bottle to tap against his. "I heard you got promoted," she adds.
"I did," he confirms with a nod.
"Congrats. Guess they finally got their heads outta their asses. Good thing too, because your talents were completely wasted before."
His eyebrows raise at the words of praise from her. She wasn't one to throw out phrases like that willy-nilly. "Thanks. Didn't realize you'd heard. You keeping tabs on me, Romanoff?" he teases, catching her eye and shooting her a sly smile.
"Maybe," she suggests with one of those looks he knows has probably rendered other men putty in her hands, but this is an old game with them. There is definitely a spark of something between them, and so they tease and they flirt and they lean into possibilities of what they could explore, all while knowing it won't ever go anywhere. At least, while he knows it won't go anywhere. What she might think about it is, quite frankly, a mystery to him. Still, he'd long ago resigned himself to the fact that it might be for the best that nothing ever happens between them. Her friendship means more to him than a half-assed chance at something they both know would be difficult at best. They'd gotten to know each other slowly and built up familiarity and trust over years of working with one another. For two people who didn't trust easily, they'd found something between them that just made sense, and it's a friendship he values greatly.
"I still don't know why you don't just go freelance," she says, shaking him from his thoughts.
"Why don't you?" he counters. By all accounts, with her list of contacts and skills she could freelance and not be tied to the restrictions of paperwork and regulations that come with employment at SHIELD. Not to mention, he knows how much she detests the red tape that prevents them from accomplishing things more often than it should.
"Because I have a long list of enemies and SHIELD's backing makes a few of them not even consider going after me. You, however, don't have such enemies. You've got a web of contacts now. You could use them and build up your own business."
"Are you trying to convince me to quit?" he asks seriously, tilting his head. She's being a little more heavy-handed with her suggestions than usual today.
"Just offering my expert opinion," she says with a half shrug before she takes another drink of her beer.
He tilts his head the other way as he considers it. He does get irritated by the red tape that holds up the simplest of requests. Not to mention that like her, he is well acquainted with operating in that grey area that most people liked to pretend doesn't exist, and SHIELD regulations don't necessarily allow for a whole lot of success there.
"See," she presses with a knowing smile, "you should consider it. I bet SHIELD would still give you a contract, so not much would actually change except you wouldn't be doing someone else's paperwork." She pauses for a beat to take a sip of her beer. "And the pay would be much better," she adds with a cheeky grin.
"Well, when you put it that way…" She grins at his lazily drawled reply. "Not to mention it would clear the two of us of running afoul of any fraternization regulations," he adds with a wink.
"See? Going solo is full of benefits," she replies in that slightly raspy voice that drives most men — and he'd wager a fair few ladies as well — crazy.
"I'll think about it," he promises, and even though their discussion is playful, he knows she's heard the seriousness of his promise. He would think about it because if the Black Widow believes he could pull off freelancing, then he knows that he should damn well be considering it.
She gives a soft little hum in reply. He takes the opportunity to look out over the water at the setting sun that's casting a swath of golden hues over the scene.
"So, you just out here enjoying the view?" he prompts when the silence fills the space a little too long for his liking.
"Winding down," she corrects. It's an admission, he knows. Not something she would tell just anyone, and he's honoured that she feels safe enough to admit it to him.
He looks out over the vista again as dusk filters over them. This safehouse backs onto vast green space, and the view has always been a favourite of his. "Well, it's a good spot to do it," he comments as he points to the sun that has almost disappeared beneath the treeline on the other side of the lake.
"Here? Can't say I've ever slept with someone here."
He rolls his eyes at the not-at-all subtle innuendo but doesn't back down from her challenge. "I can change that if you want," he offers with an arch of an eyebrow for emphasis.
"Yeah?" she replies neutrally, but he can hear a hint of amusement beneath the surface.
"Mmhmm," he hums, shooting her a wink and a wiggle of his eyebrows, but she just laughs and he frowns petulantly. "What? Is the thought of sleeping with me so laughable?"
"No, no. I'm sure it would be wonderful," she placates him, letting her mouth twist into a crooked smile.
"I would argue life-changing," he corrects and she laughs again.
"Something to look forward to then," she says with a smile.
"Now don't go getting my hopes up if you're just going to dash them," he warns semi-seriously. They might be laughing but he's always found that there's a sliver of truth in humour.
"I'm not one to dismiss things out of hand," she reminds him in a tone more honest than he'd thought it would be.
"So...I still have a chance?"
She eyes him with an enigmatic expression. It's one of those expressions that doesn't quite let him work out if she's truly teasing him, or if there's perhaps a kernel of truth in there. "I'm not saying never," she says with the barest arch of an eyebrow.
"Huh," he says, a little surprised. Their little game of flirtation has never felt this serious and he wonders if something had happened on her op to push her toward deciding to maybe explore it. "Well, I'll keep that in mind," he adds, unsure of what else to say.
"You'd better," she says with a wink, breaking the unexpected earnestness of the moment.
They lapse into a comfortable silence as the sun finally dips below the treeline, leaving only a soft, fuzzy glow of golden colours from the outer edges of the sun's light above the trees. The lake is left in the rapidly spreading darkness, with just enough light to make out the gentle waves. Bright pinpricks of light off to the side of them catch his eye and he turns to find the grassy area just off the beach beside them covered in the floating lights. He smiles at the sight as he's reminded of his childhood.
"Always liked watching them when I was a kid," he says with a gesture toward the pulsing lights.
He watches her head turn to follow his gesture over to the beetles. "What, the fireflies?" she clarifies as she turns to look at him once more.
"Glow worms," he corrects.
"Pretty sure they're fireflies," she insists with another smile, this one clearly out of amusement.
"Not in England."
"Well, we're not in England now are we?"
"Oh, whatever," he relents with a shake of his head, knowing he'd never win an argument with her anyway.
"See, this is why I keep you around. You come to your senses that I'm right a lot faster than most."
"Why the hell are you keeping Barton around then? The two of you bicker like children all the time."
She smiles and takes a sip of her beer, just about finishing it off. "He's my partner. I'm stuck with him."
"Partner, huh?" he quips, though he knows full well the two of them aren't together, despite what most of SHIELD seems to think. She just smiles. "Well, if you change your mind…" he trails off and gestures to himself. "I'm right here. In fact, I'll always be right here."
"Always, huh?"
"I'm dependable like that."
"Well, I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she says, echoing his words from a few moments before and shooting him one of those looks again. She adds a small, enigmatic smile which only adds to his misery, and he suppresses a groan.
Instead, he shakes his head. "You know what? You're a tease, Romanoff."
Her smile widens. "Only to some," she replies with a wink.
He shakes his head again, this time blowing out a breath. Bloody hell, she's gonna kill me, hethinks.
She breaks their eye contact, looks out at the flashing lights of the beetles in the grass, and smiles fondly in a way he's never seen. It's serene, like the weight that sits upon her shoulders most of the time — whether or not she acknowledges it — has disappeared. There's an almost youthful glow of hope to her expression, one that's so foreign on her usually more seasoned and tired face. Her eyes are alight with something that he can't put a name to, but the lightness in her posture is a first — he's never seen her this relaxed before. It's a sight that brings a smile to his face because though he knows only a little of her past, he knows enough to understand moments of peace for her are few and far between.
"What's that?" he asks, pointing to her with his beer bottle.
"What?"
"That smile... What's that for?"
"Good memories," she answers with a fond smile after a beat of silence.
He smiles warmly. "Well, here's to that then," he agrees with a nod, holding up his bottle in a toast.
She nods and then murmurs something in Russian. His smile disappears in favour of a frown of confusion and he looks at her blankly. "It's a toast," she explains with a roll of her eyes, the hopeful light in her eyes shifting to pure amusement. "And way to ruin the moment," she teases.
"Whatever, tsarina," he teases right back.
Rick tips his beer back to drain the last few dregs before he drops it to the ground next to him. He reaches into the cooler to grab a fresh one, and with a deft twist of his fingers, the cap flies off. He brings the bottle to his lips to take a long drink, and then sighs.
The glow worms — fireflies, he corrects himself sadly — are notably active as he sits there, their pinpricks of light pulsing in and around the tall grass in the area just up from the beach. He'd positioned his chair to face them instead of the lake the way they'd sat side-by-side all those years ago. He hadn't thought about why he'd positioned the chair that way, but as the fireflies had begun their dance through the grass, he'd realized some part of him had done it on purpose.
He and Natasha had continued their casual flirting for years, including long after he took her advice and left SHIELD to strike out on his own. She had, of course, been right that SHIELD opted to continue to contract his services often. As it happened, it was usually for the missions and ops she was involved in — a fact that did not escape him. After SHIELD fell, he'd claimed the safehouse as his own, updating the security protocols, clearing out the old SHIELD tech, and keeping the few things that were still useful.
A few weeks after she'd appeared in front of Congress, she'd called him to ask for some new IDs. He'd invited her to the safehouse to pick them up, eager to see with his own eyes that his friend was okay after everything that had happened. He'd seen some of the coverage of her testimony, and while he'd never doubted that she'd come out of it the winner, it had certainly looked rough at times. She'd told him once that she'd stayed at SHIELD because they served as some sort of protection for her, but he'd known even then that it was more than that. It had been the symbol of her changing her ways, and he knew that it had probably hurt having that all go to shit all around her.
She had smiled when he'd answered the door and said "been awhile" in that raspy tone of hers. He'd known immediately then that he was just as screwed as he'd been all those years before; time apart had done nothing to quell that something between them it had seemed.
The two of them had spent time catching up, and for reasons he didn't entirely understand, things had ended up going past the flirting stage for once. It had been far from the frenetic pace he'd figured that their coming together would be, and instead, it had been a slower, more passionate night. He's not sure he'd call what they had love — not in the romantic sense anyway — but there was a lot of tenderness and care between them. More than he'd expected if he's honest with himself, even if he'd always known there was a kind-hearted person under the persona she portrayed to the world. In fact, there'd been enough tenderness between them that the night had been more emotional than he figures either of them had expected. Still, they'd parted the next morning like they always did, with her disappearing down the road and off to handle a crisis, and him wondering when he'd see her next.
When they'd reconnected again after the Avengers' 'divorce' they'd fallen into their old patterns of banter and teasing. And then he'd watched her fly away in the quinjet to save one of her families. Neither of them had mentioned that night, but it had laid unspoken between them and silently acknowledged in the spaces between their friendly banter.
They'd seen each other sporadically over the next few years while she was a fugitive. She'd come to him with requests for odds and ends that she and half of her Avengers family needed while staying under the radar. She'd surprised him by again taking things past flirting on a few of those occasions. He'd always assumed it had been a one-time thing between them that night, but the sparks were very much still there. Those nights were filled with just as much passion as that first night, but each time they still parted the next morning like they always did. The thing between them never flourished into anything more than it was — two friends meeting and sharing tenderness and respect for one another in a world where people they could trust were a rare commodity — and he knows that was for the best for both of them. But it never stopped him from wondering what more with her might be like.
Now though, as he sits on the dock drinking beer and staring at the pulsing lights of fireflies that had once provided her such peace and serenity for those few precious moments, he wonders what those fateful five years had been like for her. He wonders if she'd found any small semblance of the peace he knows she had searched for her whole life.
His memories of her rise, bringing with them equal amounts of pain and joy as he recalls their conversations and their moments together.
He tips the bottle back and drains a good portion of it before he stops and drops his arm back to rest on the armrest of his chair. The bottle, still half-full — or half-empty, he muses darkly — slips from his fingers and falls to the ground. He rubs his eyes with his other hand, feeling the sting of unwanted grief pulsing in time with the glow of the fireflies.
He'd come back from being dust and soon after had found out about what she'd done. He'd checked up on Yelena, knowing that Natasha would have wanted someone to, and given her the list of safehouses Nat had maintained with him. If anyone deserved to have them, he'd figured it was Yelena.
But this place... this cabin where they'd shared so much of themselves with each other on those stolen nights, this one he kept for himself. Maybe it was selfish, but he wanted something to remember her by. Something more than just the words people murmured when she was mentioned. More than the grief-stricken eyes of her little sister when he'd met up with her to hand off the list of safehouses. More than the sombre words echoed by people in memorials to a figure they'd never truly known. There are no tangible traces of her left here in the cabin — not a lingering scent or stray hairs on a pillow — and yet every corner reminds him of those nights and what they'd shared. They remind him of a woman who'd spent so long searching for her purpose and a place to belong, who had loved so fiercely those she deemed worthy of her trust, and who had been a bright spot in his life.
And the fireflies that set the grassy area just off the beach alight with their pulsing lights? They remind him of the one moment he saw peace in her eyes. They remind him of her enduring strength to keep hope alight despite the creeping darkness of the world. They remind him of the woman he'd been so fond of and the friend he dearly, dearly misses. But mostly they remind him that a piece of her will always be in this world, in the legacy she left behind and in the moments she'd shared with those she had loved.
I enjoyed writing this one far more than I thought I would. The concept of a Natasha/Rick pairing proved to be just far too enticing to ignore! As always, any/all comments and feedback are welcomed! 😊
(and apologies for the delay - real life's been *hectic* as of late!)
more to come...