no real excuse on the long break between updates here. just wasn't in the mood to write, and didn't have a lot of time to do it either.
enjoy.
Melinda waits, listening as the footfalls become steadily louder. The door swings open, and for the first time in a long while, she's face to face with her old friend and colleague.
"Mel," Natasha says, eyes wide and reflecting her surprise, "hi."
Melinda smiles as she realizes again how long it's been since they'd last seen one another. "Phil says this is where the good coffee is," she deadpans.
Nat's expression shifts from surprise to a warm, genuine smile. "You hate coffee," she replies with a knowing tip of her chin.
"I do," Melinda concedes with a wry grin and a nod. "But he also said this is where I could find an old friend," she finishes with a meaningful look toward Nat.
Nat's expression brightens further, and she opens the door wider before gesturing for her to enter the house. "Well, he's right about that. Besides, I have tea too."
"Tea?" Melinda echoes in playful disbelief as she steps past Natasha and into the house. "What, you stop drinking vodka when you died?" she quips with a glance over her shoulder.
Natasha huffs in amusement as she closes the front door behind them. "Oh, I've got plenty of that too."
"Good. You had me worried there for a second."
"Even death can't break the bond a Russian has with their vodka."
She smirks at Nat's joke and then pauses to scrutinize her old friend. Admittedly she hadn't seen a lot of Natasha after the SHIELD-Hydra debacle, but there had been sporadic texts, and she'd seen glimpses of her on TV over the years. Before the press conferences following the Snap, Natasha had always looked the same — firm, unshakable, and like she was mildly bored with whatever the politicians were droning on about or the dumb questions journalists were asking. Every clip Melinda saw of her after the Snap showed Natasha as more and more exhausted — both physically and emotionally.
In the afterlife, though, she looks peaceful, healthy, and relaxed in a way that Melinda's not sure she's ever seen. I guess lifting the weight and expectations of the world off your shoulders does wonders for a person, Melinda thinks dryly.
"Do you want some tea?" Nat asks, shaking Melinda out of her musings. "I do actually have some if you want."
"Yeah, tea sounds good if you don't mind," Melinda answers, nodding. Then she spots a bag with some climbing gear by the door. She'd never known Nat to be a climber, but then she had never really been overly close with her. Still, Melinda finds she isn't surprised by this hobby of Natasha's. After all, in a place without a need for heroes, espionage, or ops, you had to find other ways to fill the need for those rushes of adrenaline they all secretly craved. "Unless I'm crashing your day's plans, that is," Melinda says, pointing to the bag of climbing gear.
Natasha's gaze sweeps down, following her gesture. "I was going to go rock climbing," she explains with a shrug and a smile, "but I don't mind the interruption."
"You sure?"
"Yep," she answers without hesitation. "Unless...do you want to join me?"
"Not much of a climber," Melinda admits. She thinks back to the few missions that had required climbing buildings and rock faces and resists the urge to frown. She wasn't afraid of heights, and getting injured or dying from a fall wasn't a worry now, but climbing hadn't ever really been something she wanted to do. "I used to hike now and then, but never did much climbing outside of work."
Nat shrugs. "Wanna go for a hike then? I've got a list of places I want to see that I've been slowly working on."
Melinda tilts her head, amused. "You made a bucket list after you died?"
She watches as Nat seems to fight a smile for a second. "In my defence, I had one before I died too."
"Did it have hiking on it?" Melinda asks doubtfully, arching an eyebrow for emphasis.
"Mostly riding roller coasters, if I remember correctly," Nat admits with a smirk.
"You're such a child."
"You're the one who was making jokes about me drinking vodka like two minutes ago. I think that alone disqualifies the child insult."
"Russian children don't drink vodka? C'mon now."
"You know I'm starting to think you believe I'm an alcoholic or something."
"No, just happen to know you fall into this particular stereotype."
Nat shakes her head as she chuckles softly. "We don't have to hike," she offers, refocusing their conversation. "I'm just as happy sitting here sipping tea and catching up."
"Us? Sit still and talk?"
"C'mon, Mel, I know you've changed. And I know you know that I've changed. Talking isn't so bad."
"Uh-huh," Melinda replies, arching an eyebrow to convey her doubt.
"You'll see," Nat says confidently. "So, hike or no hike?"
"Well, I don't have any equip—" she stops abruptly as another backpack and hiking shoes materialize next to Nat's bag. "Right. Still getting used to that whole things just appearing thing."
"Yeah, took me a while too," Nat admits. "Gotta admit, it's handy though."
"Yeah," Melinda agrees, thinking of how many times she'd already experienced needed items appearing from nowhere in her short time in the afterlife. "Tea first though," she bargains. Then, after a thoughtful beat, she adds, "And if you're making me go for a hike, there better be good snacks too."
Nat grins. "I've got some of those too, don't worry."
"So, where exactly are we hiking?"
"The Rockies. Pocaterra Ridge to be exact."
"Never heard of it."
"From what I've heard it's not too bad of a hike, and the view is totally worth the effort."
Hours later, they're making their way up the last few feet of their climb up to the top of the ridge. When they finally reach the top, neither says anything as they stare out over the impressive view, unable to tear their eyes away.
"Wow," Melinda says, a little breathlessly — from the view or the hike, she doesn't know. From her perspective, either could be to blame because the view is breathtaking, and while not painfully strenuous, the hike had definitely been more taxing than a walk in the park.
"Yeah," Nat agrees, her answer also a little breathy. She slips her bag off her back, drops it to the ground, then takes a few steps toward the edge. "They weren't joking when they said the view was amazing."
"Definitely not," Melinda agrees, mirroring Nat's actions and slipping the bag from her back before stepping up to the edge.
They're quiet for a minute as they continue to take in the impressive sight of natural beauty. Jagged, seemingly endless peaks of massive mountains stretch to the horizon, and trees of varying hues of red, orange, gold, and green cover the swaths between the mountain peaks. Far down below, there's even the bright, crystal blue of a few small lakes in the valley, off in the distance.
"Almost makes the hike worth it," Melinda says dryly, breaking the silence.
Nat turns to her with an expression of near bemusement. "Almost?"
Melinda shrugs. "Lots of hills, lots of mud."
"That's usually what hikes entail," Nat replies dryly.
"Never figured you for the rugged hiking type."
"What can I say? Death have a profound impact on me."
Melinda rolls her eyes and then glares playfully at her friend. "So are we eating now or what?"
"So impatient," Nat tuts, clearly amused.
"A deal's a deal, Romanoff. I was promised snacks. Good ones, too."
"We're in the afterlife and can make food appear at will, and you're worried about the snacks I brought?"
"Phil says you cook and bake now. I'm curious."
"For the record, I cooked and baked before I died too."
Melinda waves a hand dismissively. "It's new to me. Now, what're we eating?"
Nat turns to open up her bag. "Admittedly, it's not traditional hiking food."
"Good. I don't want a meal of dehydrated fruit and granola, and I ate enough bland food at the cafeteria in my SHIELD days to last a lifetime and then some."
Nat laughs, then pulls out the food she'd packed and brought along. "Pirozhki. Made fresh this morning. Ever had it?"
Melinda shakes her head. "No, can't say I have. What kind of filling is it?"
"I have potato and onion, and meat and rice. Take your pick."
"Potato and onion," she decides. As soon as she unwraps the pastry, its scent fills the air, and Melinda can't help but inhale deeply in appreciation.
"Smells good, right?" Nat says knowingly, a little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Melinda takes a bite and is momentarily surprised that it's warm, as though it were fresh from the oven. Then she remembers they're in the afterlife, and food staying warm as long as needed without any insulation is a thing that happens. "Okay," she concedes while nodding appreciatively, "this is pretty good."
"Wow, a "pretty good" from Melinda May. I can die happy," Nat quips. A beat of silence passes as Melinda stares at Nat, waiting for her to realize what she said. "Shit. You know what I meant," Nat says after another beat, shooting Melinda another playful glare.
After finishing their food and drinks and then sitting and chatting awhile longer, they decide to hike back down rather than take a conveniently appearing shortcut. A few minutes into their trek back down from the ridge, Melinda is struck with an overwhelming urge to share the swirling thoughts in her mind.
"Hey, Nat?" she says, waiting for her friend to turn and meet her gaze. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."
Nat's brow furrows into a deep frown of confusion. "For what?" she asks, coming to a stop.
"I should've called," Melinda explains, stopping and standing beside Nat.
"What?"
"After the whole...Hydra-SHIELD thing. I saw the news, I heard the stories. I should have called. We were friends."
"That goes both ways, Mel," Nat replies. "I had a phone same as you did, and I never called."
"Yeah, well you were busy saving the world from aliens or robots or whatever."
"From what Phil's told me, so were you," Nat pointedly counters. "Besides, we're dead. There's no point holding onto any guilt anymore," she finishes, then gestures for them to continue walking.
Melinda tilts her head. "When did you become so emotionally mature?"
"After a shit ton of therapy," Nat answers wryly, not missing a beat.
"Natasha Romanoff attending therapy? Willingly?"
"Yeah, yeah. This kind of talk," Nat says, gesturing vaguely to Melinda, "is why people don't go see a therapist sooner."
Melinda laughs. "I'm just teasing. Therapy's good. It helps."
"You know, people would've said the same kind of thing about you once upon a time."
"Yeah," Melinda agrees, unable to argue. Despite being married to Andrew, she'd never really been a fan of the idea and had expressed that belief strongly. With time, she'd eventually learned it was a valuable way to process things. "It sucked though, didn't it?"
Nat laughs. "Oh, absolutely. Some days I was so wrung out emotionally after my session, I swear Steve was worried I'd die again somehow."
"Lots of baggage to unpack, huh?"
"You don't know the half of it."
"You seem to be in a pretty good head space now."
"Yeah, well. That took a long time. Probably longer than it should have. I was...stubborn at first."
"Got there in the end though."
"Yeah, I did."
"So, how many more of these hiking spots you got on your list?"
"Uh, couple dozen or so. Why?"
"Well, it's not the worst way to spend a day."
"Such high praise," Nat quips dryly. "How can I turn down an offer like that?"
"I'm not saying I'm doing them all with you," Melinda says quickly.
"There's another one here in the Rockies I want to do."
"Any of these hikes on level ground?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
"So more mountain hiking, huh?"
"Yep. Crypt Lake Trail."
"Oh that doesn't sound ominous at all."
"I'll bring freshly made snacks again."
"It sounds less ominous now," Melinda says with a grin.
Pocaterra Ridge is a real place. Google it for an idea of the view. I'll wait. ... Amazing, right? (And as you might've guessed, Crypt Lake Trail is also a real hiking trail. Go ahead and Google that one for some bonus points.)
As always, let me know your thoughts. I know the updates are inconsistent, but I promise I do so deeply appreciate the comments and thoughts y'all leave.
more to come...just not on a defined schedule 😉
