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[widows_kiss]

"You've reached Natasha. You know what to do."

Comments

[araneidal]

[ Lightly, ]

Then it's a date. Let's hope Sharon doesn't get on my case for eating unhealthily.

[widows_kiss]

I won't tell if you won't.

[araneidal]

[ Lightly, ]

So, she keeps my secrets.

[ There is nothing playful about the words. ]

[widows_kiss]

[ Natasha merely smiles. ]

As I keep my own.

At least, until I don't.

[ There's always a chance of that. Even with her own. ]

[araneidal]

If you tell anyone about the printed bedsheets, I'll kill you.

[ She smiles, wickedly. ]

[widows_kiss]

If they're Iron Man, all bets are off.

[araneidal]

[ On second thought — ]

Excellent idea. No one would believe that. Tony might get a heart attack.

[widows_kiss]

[ Natasha laughs. ]

It can go hand in hand with the fact that when he asked me what the last thing I remembered was, I told him our honeymoon.

[ She's still not looking at all regretful for the amount of sputtering that had prompted. ]

[araneidal]

Naturally.

[ Were she feeling more open, she might've giggled. Natasha settles for mild amusement. ]

The one I know would never have fallen for that.

[widows_kiss]

Pity. [ She gives a quick grin. ] That's half the fun of him.

[araneidal]

[ She mirrors the grin. ]

I'm surprised he hasn't built you a set of armour yet.

[widows_kiss]

[ Natasha arches an eyebrow. ]

He built me a tacsuit. Why would I need a suit of armor?

[araneidal]

Just curious.

[ He'd offered one to her readily enough, it made her wonder. ]

[widows_kiss]

[ Her lips quirk. ]

He probably has plans for suits for all of us - I wouldn't put it past him. I don't think it's really my style, however.

[araneidal]

You might think otherwise if we have missions in space.

[ Still not hers, she's old-fashioned, and prefers her tacsuit and Widow's Bite. ]

[widows_kiss]

I think I'd prefer to avoid space a while longer if I could.

[ Her voice is dry. ]

They seem awfully unfriendly up there.

[araneidal]

[ It serves that double purpose of being a joke and not, and Natasha smiles in reply. ]

You're going to love Skrulls.

[widows_kiss]

[ Natasha squints at that. ]

How come I suspect you're not going to tell me they're just some hotshot biker gang from space.

[araneidal]

You can dream, Natalia.

[ They're at her door. Natasha opens it in full view of her alternate, a door isn't much of an obstacle anyway. The room is largely bare of personalisation. The bed is comfortable and there's a rack of clothes. She heads for the closet and pulls out a small all-purpose trolley, spreading a cloth over it. ]

No pomegranates. Otherwise, go wild.

[widows_kiss]

Not a fan?

[ Natasha is more interested for the moment in taking in her surroundings, eyes skimming the room and taking in every detail, learning from it what she can. It's different than hers - much. Her room here had automatically shifted to resemble the flat she keeps in New York. She'd considered changing it but ultimately decided not to. Even then, there were parts of it that were mostly for show, occasionally flavored with something real.

As much as anything could be claimed to be real here, at least. ]

[araneidal]

No.

[ Natasha arches her brow, in genuine amusement. Persephone ate six pomegranate seeds, didn't she? Well, the other one will notice eventually. Nothing here resembles a home. Natasha hasn't built one in her time — away, from the team. There are places to keep weapons and the bedsheet is personalised: may as well sleep on something comfortable. ]