Eva hated to admit it, but she needed help in the coffee shop. She had more and more gardening work coming in, and although she could now afford to have a fraction of the customers they used to get, someone still needed to serve the few that did come in while she was up to her neck in flower beds. So she put an ad in the window, spent an evening reading so many resumés that she had a nightmare about not having any relevant work experience herself, and invited a handful back for interviews. That felt weird. Eva was only twenty-four! She shouldn't have a position of authority! The last time she'd had a position of authority, it had been the coveted stationary monitor role in elementary school. And even then she hadn't been very good at it.

Most of the interviewees were students. Rent had plummeted in Manhattan (and everywhere else) since the Snap, but it was still impossible to live and study there without working unless you had a trust fund. Eva was leaning towards the brightest, bubbliest candidates, confident that six weeks in the service industry would have them as bitter as the coffee they brewed up. But if they started happy, they were more likely to stay.

"And, like, since I'm doing a drama degree I really want to, like, see more of humanity, y'know?" the current girl was saying, twirling a lock of Cali-blonde hair around her fingers. She was awful, to the point that Eva actually quite enjoyed her. "The authentic underbelly, as they say."

As who say? Eva thought. A Manhattan hipster café and plant shop is about as underbelly as Times Square.

"Mm," she said out loud. "And your experience is –"

"Oh! I played a waitress in this unaired pilot back when I was still in LA."

"Gosh."

"I know. It was an amazing experience, really. I actually found out that –"

The bell over the door tingled and Eva twisted round in her seat, ready to yell "we're closed!" to whoever it was that had just walked in. When she saw who it was, though, she changed her mind.

"I'm gonna have to cut this short," she told the Oscar-winner in the making, standing up to shake her hand. "It was lovely to meet you, though!"

"When will I find out that I've got the job?"

Eva blinked. "I'll… call you," she said. "Bye!"

She ushered her out of the door, slammed it shut and turned to Natasha, who was grinning. "I will not call her," Eva said vehemently.

"I got that."

"Chai?"

"You know me so well?"

Later, with two mugs of steaming spiced tea between them, Eva took a moment to examine Natasha properly. She was letting her fox-red roots grow back, which seemed like a good sign, and there were thick dark circles under her eyes, which were not. "So you've got, like, a network looking for him now?" she asked, tucking her knees under her chin.

Natasha rested one foot against the edge of the table and sunk down into the overstuffed armchair. "Him and anything else that might be able to help," she said. "Steve might've accepted this, but I haven't."

That's 'cause Steve's gone to therapy, Eva thought.

"They come by every couple of months to debrief, and if they don't we can talk over this crazy space-Skype thing Carol set up for us."

"Carol?"

"I think you met her in passing."

"I meet a lot of y'all in passing. Doesn't mean I make an effort to put anyone down in my contacts," Eva said.

"She's an alien – wait, no she's not. Oh, I don't know," Natasha sighed. "Point is, she can fly and shoot lasers out of her hands, which is useful."

"Sounds like you're assembling a team of remarkable people," Eva said.

"Don't."

"Who, dare I say it, are motivated by a desire to seek recompense for such evil. To avenge, if you will –"

"I said don't!" Natasha laughed. "This isn't that." The humor went from her face. "This is… what's left. The Avengers, we're long gone." She picked up her mug and took a huge gulp of chai.

"How's Bruce?" Eva asked.

"Locked himself in his lab. He won't talk to me. It's the guilt. Hulk abandoned him during the fight in Wakanda, and he thinks that's on him."

"So he's trying to – what? Get the switch working again?"

"No idea. Like I said, he hasn't said a word to me since he left for the lab. He's working out in Oregon, now. Says the weather helps. God knows what with."

"You miss him," said Eva. It wasn't a question.

"I miss a lot of people," Natasha said. "But missing them doesn't help kill Thanos, does it?"

It occurred to Eva that she had not heard a word about Clint Barton. She thought about bringing it up, but one look at Natasha's face ruled against that.

"When was the last time you ate a proper meal?" Eva asked.

"Do peanut butter sandwiches count?"

"For broke nineteen year-olds? Yes. For superheroes? Absolutely not. You know my housemate Alvie?"

"Vaguely."

"She's a really good cook. Like, really. She does things to shrimp that I think are illegal in Europe but god damn, it tastes amazing. Come round this Sunday, she's doing gumbo."

"I can't, Eva. There's so much I have to do –"

"What's the worst that can happen? Half the universe disappears while you sit down for dinner? Oh, hang on, that already happened." Eva leaned forward. "If you don't come, I'll tell Steve, and he'll make you go to his group therapy sessions."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"Yep."

Natasha shook her head, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. "Unbelievable," she said. "Fine! Fine. But there's no way this is becoming a regular thing."

"Weekly."

"Annual."

"Monthly."

"Deal." Nat let the smile break out fully, now. "Thanks, Eva."

"No problem." It's what Vision would want me to do. "Now finish your drink and get out of my shop."

A/N so I appear to have taken an unplanned hiatus, huh