Sorry it's a little later in the day than usual! The weekend threw me off a bit. Anyway, here it is; enjoy!
Natasha woke up sometime between breakfast and lunch. She stretched the well-deserved sleep from her muscles and got out of bed; she was still a little groggy from the dose of Nyquil she'd taken the night before-it was the only way she could get any rest without nightmares.
She didn't bother to change out of her pajamas – a pair of old track shorts and an oversized, black hoodie with "I-Heart-NY" screen-printed onto the front in large, white letters. Casting a brief glance into her mirror to be certain that her hair wasn't doing anything embarrassingly weird, she opened her door and headed down the hall, planning to wander into the kitchen for food within the hour.
As she passed the room they had allotted to Elizabeth, she noticed that the door was open, so she shot a look inside before she could really think not to. The woman was sitting at her vanity, dressed in street clothes and combing through her wet hair. She had draped a swath of thick fabric over the mirror, but it was tucked up now, allowing her to see her reflection as she ran the comb through her dark strands, flicking water onto her own back.
Natasha knocked on the doorframe, and Elizabeth whirled around, pulling the fabric down over the mirror in one slick, smooth movement. Before Natasha even had a chance to process the quick maneuver, Elizabeth had set the comb down and was rising to greet her, smile on her face.
"Agent Romanoff," she crooned, spreading her hands in welcome.
Natasha stepped into the room. "Sounds like you had a good night's sleep," she commented.
Elizabeth slipped her hands into the pockets of her dark jeans, saying, "I suppose I did. The first night in a new place is always less restful than I'd prefer, though."
Natasha glanced around the room absently, not truly looking for anything in particular. "I completely understand," she said. "So how are you liking our not-so-humble home?"
"It's impressive," she replied, a small smile twisting half of her mouth.
"Anything at all like what you're used to?"
"Not even a shred." Elizabeth didn't elaborate, so Natasha didn't ask.
"I guess you'll be happy to get back home," she said.
Elizabeth's smile faltered. "I can't quite say for certain."
"Didn't leave on the best of terms?" Natasha knew the feeling.
"You could say that," and her smile quirked back as though it had never fallen.
Natasha smiled too, though it was only a little one. She wasn't the sort to smile properly for strangers. "So what brings you to our neck of the woods?"
"I'm on an assignment." Elizabeth glanced out the window at the cityscape and added, "I'm supposed to—and I quote—'fix what Loki broke.'"
Natasha blinked at her. "That's it?"
Elizabeth shrugged. "My bosses aren't the best at giving directions. And they're not the sort from whom I could ask clarification."
"Wow." Natasha shook her head. She had been sent on missions with less briefing than that, but she had never exactly found those to be the smoothest in her history. Besides, Loki broke a lot of stuff. If she had been in Elizabeth's shoes, she'd have been pretty upset with her superiors. "Why do you put up with that?" she asked, knowing full well that she would have at least had a thing or two to say about the matter.
With a rueful look, Elizabeth replied, "I don't exactly get a choice."
"You shouldn't let them twist your arm."
"I know, and ordinarily, I wouldn't. But it happens to be in everyone's best interest—including my own—if I just shut up and do as I'm told." A strange expression crossed Elizabeth's face: one of incredulity, as though she couldn't believe that those words had just come out of her mouth.
"Not much of a rule-follower usually?" Natasha guessed, and a smirk touched Elizabeth's lips.
"In absolutely no sense of the word," she said. "It's gotten me into trouble many times, but I just can't seem to find it in me to condone other people's strictures."
"Well, I wouldn't recommend going rogue around SHIELD," Natasha told her.
"I can imagine; good thing I'm not here to work for them." She looked at Natasha for a moment before saying, "Why do you let them boss you around?"
"I don't let them boss me around."
Elizabeth just arched an eyebrow. "They've got you working office hours."
With a sigh, Natasha conceded, "I guess I've just got some red in my ledger, and I want to wipe it out."
"I know that much already," Elizabeth said. "That's a great reason for coming to the hero's side, but why do you stay?"
"I guess it's just more rewarding than killing people," Natasha said. "I'll admit, for a while I didn't know how I felt about it. But ever since the Loki incident, I've been more certain that I'm doing the right thing."
"Well, if Loki knew that he helped you find your direction in life, he would undoubtedly be honored."
Natasha scoffed. "No, he wouldn't."
"Of course he would; he loves things like that." Elizabeth leaned back against her vanity, crossing her arms nonchalantly. "Pushing people and guiding their decisions—for good or for ill—is quite possibly his favorite thing. In case you hadn't noticed, manipulation is his weapon of choice. Followed by throwing knives."
"He seemed pretty comfortable with his staff," Natasha said sardonically.
Elizabeth waved this off as though it was the smallest of details. "A skilled fighter knows how to handle him—or her—self with any weapon. There come occasions when knives or hammers or bows are not readily available. Surely you know this."
She did. She had learned as much when she was young, barely a teenager, in training to become an assassin. Instead of bringing up her history, though, she only nodded. "I guess, from an objective standpoint, he was pretty good in combat."
With a hard-edged smile, Elizabeth said, "You should see him when he has a knife in his hands."
"I'm not sure I'd want to. Have you?"
"Unfortunately, no. I've only heard rumors."
"Oh. So you've never met him?"
"No, I've met him," Elizabeth said. "I've just never seen him fight."
"Lucky you."
"So it would seem." She thought for a moment. "You all do hate him quite a lot, don't you?" When Natasha didn't respond, only shooting her a very clear look, Elizabeth rolled her shoulders dismissively. "Forgive me; stupid question."
Natasha nodded. Then, after a beat: "Do you hate him?"
For a long while, Elizabeth was quiet. She stared at Natasha for only an instant before her eyes dropped to the floor and her brow knit thoughtfully. Natasha wondered if she had struck a nerve, but Elizabeth looked up again before she could think too strongly about it. "When one knows his story in full, it is hard to hate him," she said quietly, weighing each word on her tongue before she spoke it. Natasha almost responded, but she hesitated a bit too long. "Have you heard anything from Thor?" Elizabeth asked, any signs of broodiness utterly gone.
"No, I haven't," Natasha replied, though her mind was only catching up slowly, still swarming with questions that Elizabeth's comment had raised. "Why? Do you know something?"
Elizabeth shrugged. "I know that he is well."
"Has he contacted your people?" Natasha intentionally didn't mention Thor's utter failure to send word on to the Avengers.
The smirk reappeared on Elizabeth's face as she said, "Something like that."
Natasha nodded. "Well, that's good to know." She tried to keep the derision that she felt out of her voice, but the way Elizabeth was looking at her told her that she'd not entirely succeeded. "Would it have killed him to have told us?" she said, giving up on total diplomacy.
"You mustn't be too hard on him. My understanding is that he hasn't been ignoring you; he has simply been very busy." Elizabeth's smile faltered briefly. "He has had much of his brother's account to settle."
"So he's doing the same thing as you?" Natasha asked. "Cleaning up after Loki?"
Elizabeth hesitated a moment. "My situation is slightly different from his, but yes, our general goals are the same." Perching casually on her nearby chair, Elizabeth drew one foot up onto the seat and gripped her ankle lightly in her long fingers. She was looking at Natasha with shrouded eyes, an unspeakable question touching their edges, as she let the other woman absorb all that she had said.
Natasha had crossed her arms some time ago—possibly when Elizabeth said that she couldn't quite hate Loki—and they weren't loosening. She stared at Elizabeth, trying to understand exactly whose side she was on, anyway. Elizabeth was offering her nothing but more uncertainty through her gaze, but Natasha couldn't look away, just in case Elizabeth's mask dropped for even a second. After a long while, Natasha held out her hand to the other woman. "We're more or less here in common cause," she said. "I guess that makes us allies."
Slowly, Elizabeth took Natasha's offered hand, shaking it. Her smile touched her eyes again, and then her lips followed suit. "I guess it does."