...I know, it's been a bit since I updated. I got distracted with all sorts of inspiration for other non-Moments stories, mostly featuring Yelena and the Bartons (and of course Natasha) because...Hawkeye. (Check 'em out if you're so inclined😊)
on the bright side...this one is probably the least angsty thing I've written? and it's festive...kind of.
enjoy!
"Hey, Nat," Bobbi says as the call connects and Natasha answers with a tired hello.
"What's up? You find him?"
Bobbi sighs at her hopeful tone. She hadn't anticipated how much Nat would care about this mysterious Ronin figure that was globetrotting and dealing out justice to criminals. She seemed to have a personal stake for some reason that Bobbi wasn't privy to and hadn't yet worked out.
"I lost his trail. Got held up helping with some trafficking victims. Ronin took care of the assholes but didn't exactly leave a transition package for the women."
Nat sighs heavily and Bobbi wonders if she's ever heard her friend and mentor sigh quite so much. "You need anything from me?" she asks.
"Nah, I tagged in an old friend from college who's well connected in the right places for this," Bobbi answers breezily. "She'll take care of them and make sure they're okay. I was actually calling to check on you."
"Me?"
"Yes, you, Miss I-don't-need-anybody-because-I-push-everyone-away."
"Oh, so that's the name on my passport these days."
Bobbi holds in a snort at the dry retort. "Wouldn't know. You haven't needed it since you haven't left that big ol' fancy compound in months," she volleys back. It's a risk to poke Natasha like this but she and Bobbi have always enjoyed good banter, so she can only hope Nat takes it in stride as she always had before. She didn't relish the idea of Nat being pissed at her.
"You know...I liked you better as a rookie."
Okay, so clearly I didn't poke her too much, she thinks in relief. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, back when you called me ma'am and were afraid of me. Those were simpler times."
"Yeah, well, my mentor trained me too well. I got cocky as a result." Bobbi quips and she swears she can hear Nat rolling her eyes. "Okay if I swing by for a visit?"
"Aren't you in Europe?"
"Caught a last-minute flight. I landed a couple hours ago."
"Well, if you're in New York already, I guess I can't really say no, can I?"
"I'm glad you feel that way because I'm only like twenty minutes away."
Nat groans. "I really did teach you too well. I walked right into that one."
"Nah, you're just a little off your game at the moment. You're still Yoda, don't worry."
"I'd be very worried if I were a little green alien."
"But a cool one," Bobbi retorts with a smile, hoping for a laugh from her friend. They'd been in short supply lately during their brief communications. If anything, the texts and calls had been short and straight to the point.
"I hate you a little more with every conversation we have, Barbara."
"That's low, even for you, Natalia ."
"See you in twenty. I'll keep an eye on the gate."
"Merry Christmas!" Bobbi says as she gets out of the car and finds a slightly grumpy looking Natasha leaning against one of the columns on the driveway.
"Christmas isn't for like three days," replies with an arched eyebrow.
"Okay, your nickname is so gonna get downgraded to Grinch if we keep up with…" she trails off and gestures vaguely at Nat, "...all of that."
"Only kids think the Grinch is unreasonable. They ran him out of town and then spent years gaslighting him to think he was the proble-"
"Okay, whoa," Bobbi says as she retrieves her bag from the trunk of the car. "First of all, you've clearly never seen the original movie because that logic only works for the remake from the nineties. And second, that's a whole lot of grumpiness in one Russian." Nat snorts in amusement and Bobbi grins. "Now, please tell me you've got vodka."
Nat scoffs. "You just said I was Russian. What do you think?"
Bobbi grins. "Just checking. I wanna try making a White Russian but with eggnog."
"I... don't know how I feel about that," she admits as she wrinkles her nose in disgust, "and I definitely don't have any eggnog."
"Don't worry, I brought some," Bobbi assures her.
"I'm not giving you my good vodka."
"You say that now, but it'll happen," she says with a grin as she finally makes her way over to stand in front of Nat. She opens her arms expectantly and is a little surprised when Nat obliges her request and steps into the hug. "It's really good to see you," Bobbi says quietly, dropping the teasing tone.
"Yeah, you too," Nat agrees as she gives Bobbi a quick squeeze and then steps out of the hug. "C'mon, let's get inside. It's cold out here."
"I've got the recipe for a drink that'll fix that!" Bobbi says cheerfully as she follows Nat into the Compound, ignoring the groan and incoherent muttering that the redhead lets out.
"Okay, this actually isn't half bad," Nat says after taking a hesitant sip from the glass Bobbi handed her.
"Such a high compliment," Bobbi says dryly with a roll of her eyes as she drops down onto the couch next to the redhead. Nat holds up her middle finger in lieu of a verbal response, and Bobbi lifts a leg to bat it away with her foot. "So... nice place you got here."
"Yeah, it's not much but it's home," Nat quips before taking a larger drink from her glass. She looks thoughtful for a moment as she assesses the flavour. "Yeah, I'm upgrading my opinion - it's not a complete waste of vodka."
Bobbi chuckles. "I'm basking in the glory of your praise, Nat, really."
"Take it or leave it, Barbara."
"Ouch. Again with the full name. What'd I ever do to you?"
"How much time do you have? It's a long list."
"Oh, shut up," Bobbi says as shakes her head at Nat's shit-eating grin. "So, is this your office?"
Nat shrugs. "More or less."
"I always thought you'd be…neater."
"I didn't make a single comment about the state of your rental car," Nat says with a glare. "I've lived here for years and I'm quarterbacking a team of people in multiple places in the galaxy . You've had the rental car for a matter of hours and it looks like a crime scene."
"I'm just saying...how do you...do whatever it is that you do with all this shit piled on the desk?"
"Holo-screens don't need a desk," Nat offers cheekily.
"Ugh, fine," Bobbi concedes, recognizing that she isn't going to get anywhere with badgering Nat on this particular subject. Still, the obvious disorganization was a little worrying because Nat had always been a bit impeccable with her preparedness and her organization.
"How's Hunter?"
"Not dead," Bobbi replies dryly after taking a sip of her drink. Damn that's good.
"You sure?"
"Well, he sent me a text yesterday that said, and I quote, 'I'm not dead' so...yes?"
"You two are still taking time apart?"
"For the moment, yes. If we spend too much time together I might shoot him, so we've agreed to breaks now and then."
"I will never understand the relationship you two have."
Bobbi shrugs. "You don't pick who you fall in love with, I guess."
"Uh huh. You spending Christmas with him?"
"No, I actually don't have any plans for Christmas," Bobbi admits. She and Hunter didn't tend to spend the holidays together...it often ended with a lot of bickering. Too much bickering, in fact.
"Join the club," Nat offers as she holds up her glass.
"Oh, don't tempt me to extend my visit to staying with you for a few days so I'm here for Christmas."
"You're welcome to if you want. Not like we don't have the space," she offers with a gesture of her arms and a chuckle. Bobbi eyes her friend carefully, trying to ascertain if it's a genuine offer or a polite one. "You're rusty, Bobbi," Nat accuses when she clocks the scrutiny. "That was a genuine offer, by the way."
"You're sure? It is Christmas, after all."
"Wouldn't have offered it if I wasn't. Besides, you know Christmas was never a big thing for me. Just another day."
"Rogers and Rhodes won't mind?"
She shrugs. "Steve moved out earlier this year, and Rhodes is spending the holidays with his family."
Damn. They left her alone for Christmas? "Well, that settles it then. You're not spending Christmas alone, even if it's not a 'big thing' for you."
"Steve'll probably drop by at some point. He hovers and worries like a grandmother, I swear," Nat complains, though Bobbi can see the fondness in her expression too.
" Of course Captain America is a cute American babushka."
Nat snorts. "There is so much wrong with that sentence."
"This is really good," Bobbi comments after she takes a bite of the pasta bake Nat had thrown together for them.
"Yeah, not bad for what we had on hand."
"Better than the peanut butter sandwiches you suggested, that's for sure."
"I was kidding."
"Sure you were," Bobbi dismisses. She'd seen the extra jars in the cupboard and the frozen loaves of bread in the freezer. She can't imagine the stress Nat's been under picking up the slack of leading what was left of the Avengers, tracking down Ronin, and doing behind the scenes work for the Stark foundation that was set up for the orphaned kids, so she doesn't judge her for leaning into comfort food. But it was certainly quite different from the usually healthy, balanced meals Nat had eaten during their time at SHIELD.
"It's snowing again," Nat says with a nod to the window. Bobbi turns to look out the window, finding the snow blowing almost straight sideways. "Guess you picked a good day to fly. If you'd waited any longer, I doubt you'd have been able to land."
"Yeah, probably not," Bobbi agrees. "And then we wouldn't have gotten to drink the delicious liquid gold that is festive White Russians."
Nat half scoffs and half snorts. "I don't know how I would have ever lived without crossing that off my bucket list," she says dryly.
"Joke all you want, but you know you're going to make them again."
"What the hell else am I going to do with all the eggnog?"
"Drink it straight like most people? Bake something?"
"Do I look like someone who bakes?"
"Well, you didn't look like someone who could cook, and yet this is delicious, so...jury's out," Bobbi says before taking another bite of her dinner.
"You of all people should know looks can be deceiving."
"Uh-huh," Bobbi says. "How much are you going to hate me if I put on Christmas music?"
"Maiming you would not be out of the question."
Bobbi arches an eyebrow at the strong response. "Alright. No holiday spirit here, got it."
"I told you, I'm Russian."
"So that means you're gonna be festive and in the mood for the holidays in January? Hmm?"
Nat glares as she chews her bite of the pasta bake a little aggressively. "I hate you."
Bobbi grins widely. "You love me."
"Very much up for debate."
So, did you enjoy the banter? This is absolutely not the last we'll see of Bobbi (in fact I have a full non-Christmas one written for her already for Conversational Junctures), so there's definitely more banter to come.
Any other thoughts? Do let me know.
Hoping to have a couple Christmas-themed ones this month in my various stories, but who knows!