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Janaina Medeiros

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@inheritorofmemories
Black Widow Volume 5 #10
"If you’re sure? Is there anything I can do to assist? Certainly. I’ve always believed in being thorough.”
"It’s too late for another briefcase, but thank you Miss Rushman. What about a cup of coffee ?”
"Of course. I'll just go and prepare it. Two sugars? Have you eaten, Ms Potts?"
Natasha Romanoff + red and black
"No, no. Spontaneous call, sorry to interrupt. I’ll leave you to your paperwork."
"I had always thought of SHIELD’s as extensive until I took a look at yours."
”Oh no, please, have a seat. I would like some company. Especially yours, Miss Rushman. Should I take it as a compliment ?”
"If you're sure? Is there anything I can do to assist? Certainly. I've always believed in being thorough."
Scorpion: My brother. You’ve killed so many, I don’t know if you would remember. Natasha: I remember that job. And I have many past regrets. But killing him is not one of them.
From Black Widow #2, by Nathan Edmondson and Phil Noto.
"Ms Potts. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be around at this hour."
"Yes I know … But I have to finish my paperwork. Did Tony call to you ? "
"No, no. Spontaneous call, sorry to interrupt. I'll leave you to your paperwork."
"I had always thought of SHIELD's as extensive until I took a look at yours."
What Happens in Bangkok
I can assure you, your reputation precedes you. Although if that doesn’t satisfy you, it can be added to your… extensive file.
[She must admit, it’s always one of the facets of his personality she’s found most intriguing - the mask. Always reaching for the next clever line and throwaway smile. It’s certainly not when he’s talking that you see Tony Stark. In fact, she thinks, the more he talks, the less he’s actually saying.]
[The offer surprises her. Genuine surprise doesn’t occur all that often in her personal life, and some of it slips into her expression.
It’s not the thought of the end product - which he doesn’t need to sell, she has no doubt will be the highest quality - but that he’s willing to do it. He’s not looking to strip hers back to see how they work, trying to make them flashier and overcomplex; it’s about creating a second set modelled on the first. Clever and efficient.
She still doesn’t quite understand the motivation behind it.]
It sounds good, in fact. Time consuming though.
[The question’s there, they both know it, but she’s experienced enough with him to know that he won’t necessarily acknowledge it.]
Please do. Make it sound flattering, while you’re at it, I know you can do it if you put your mind to it.
[Tony grins at her, wide and boyish, giving her a shrug in reply to the clearly surprised expression, and that is something he’s aware you don’t see very often in Natasha’s face.
He’ll give himself brownie points for that.]
It does, doesn’t it? This team, Natasha, I spend time on everyone and their toys - even Thor, always needs his coms fixed, he breaks them almost every single time, but I’ll get there, I’ll make those things resist lightning, maybe with energy absorption - everyone, that is, except you.
[The engineer briefly averts his eyes, then looks back at the redhead.]
You never need anything from me, so you never ask, so I never get to make you any toys. That’s not fair to you, is it? And makes me feel as if I’m neglecting you, because come on, SHIELD are good, but at engineering? I am better, and better equipment in the field saves everyone some sweat and tears.
I suppose I could find some way of making it sound like an asset.
[She notes the smile, but she doesn't see the harm in it. This round goes to him.]
[The speech is interesting - not quite the full story, she suspects, but interesting nevertheless. Tony Stark, the man she'd declared unfit for teamwork, and perhaps he's trying hardest of them all to keep them together.
Keep them all safe at least. She's faintly amused by how things have changed, but she settles for a nod.]
A great deal of time, by all accounts. Better equipment is certainly an asset, but Clint told me about the arrows. How many, how much time and detail must have gone into them.
As you said, SHIELD have been good enough until now. What exactly is it that's going on here?
[Her words are soft, without accusation - because for all she's curious, she knows it's no bad thing.]
❝ —- May I help you somehow ? ❞
"Ms Potts. I wasn't expecting anyone to be around at this hour."
—Do you think
after a l l the horrible things that I’ve done…
it’s ᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ to be FORGIVEN—;
Worse Things I Could Do | +mrivanborskov
Natasha would normally wait to be invited in, but she cannot stand another second under the scrutiny of others, Pushing past Ivan, she makes her way into the hallway. “Close the door,” she orders tersely, fists balled at her sides.
"I have been put on temporary leave." Each word is clipped, verging on the very edge of control, and she knows that if she doesn’t get to a training room soon that she’ll lose her temper entirely.
"Take me to your gym." These orders are the only way she can even pretend that she’s in control, something she knows Ivan should recognise. Powerlessness is something she has no trouble feigning, but its reality is an entirely different story.
There is plenty of time to talk. Time is all she has apparently. Until then, she simply needs a safe space in which to work this out for herself.
As soon as he heard the first sentence, Ivan didn’t even wait for the demand before he started walking back towards the stairs knowing full well that Natasha would be right behind. That they’d forced her to the sidelines, particularly given the already precarious nature of the position they’d put her in anyway, was note unlike an insult. The closer they got to his training space, the more annoyed with it he grew.
Once they reached the area, he brought one of his training droids online. With the anger she was surely just barely keeping at bay, Ivan didn’t want to be on the other end of a spar with her just that moment. The droid, once fully activated, stood in a ready stance awaiting the first move from its opponent. “I built these things specifically for training with and letting off steam. Trash it if you need to, I’ll rebuild it later.”
Despite knowing that she should pay greater attention to the droid - it's technically impressive, well crafted, and clearly rather advanced in terms of AI if it's a training droid - Natasha is more interested in cataloguing possible weak points and running through strategies.
For the first time, her fists uncurl, pacing around the droid to test its movements. Once she has the data she needs, she flies for it. A few holds to test its strength, allowing it to take hold of her so that she can judge how to break free, and then she's ready for the attack.
It's a mess, professionally speaking. She allows her anger to take hold, making her hits less clean cut and her takedowns positively shameful. Despite that, when she steps back from the smouldering remains of the droid, she feels a little better.
"It helped," she informs him, surveying the damage. "I don't suppose you have an entire army of them?" She's actually only half joking, but the corner of her mouth quirks upwards anyway.
What Happens in Bangkok
[Her memory jumps back to the night he’d looked over the martini glass and asked her what she would do if this was the last birthday party she was ever going to have. Yes, she supposes she can see how others might be drawn in by him. He’s dangerous in a way he doesn’t quite understand - and she vehemently hopes he never will.]
All you’re currently proving is that it is possible to talk without pausing for breath.
[An amateur’s mistake, and she curses herself. She knows he’s proud - and in this area justifiably so - but the very idea of anyone else’s hands on her weapons leaves her off-balance and defensive.
She fixes them herself, occasionally improves them, and the maintenance of her cache is a carefully cultivated habit. She’s never had the option of handing them over before and she doesn’t want to get reliant on being able to.]
It’s not about trust. I’m not questioning your professionalism, Stark. If you have them, I can’t use them.
Yep, I’m good at that. Sadly I don’t get nearly the recognition I deserve for my ability to actually talk people’s ears off.
[Tony smiles at her again, pushing his hurt pride back somewhere where it won’t show. He doesn’t usually reacts that way to something this simple, but it’s different with people he lets close.
Friends. The few he has.
He thinks Natasha is a friend, he’s just never told her that.]
Okay, I could argue that, but don’t forget, I’m an engineer, all about efficient solutions— what would you think about a second couple? Your custom StarkTech Bites. People would kill for less than custom anything Stark, and of course they wouldn’t be the same thing as the classics, but I would play around with them until you approve.
How does that sound to you?
I can assure you, your reputation precedes you. Although if that doesn't satisfy you, it can be added to your... extensive file.
[She must admit, it's always one of the facets of his personality she's found most intriguing - the mask. Always reaching for the next clever line and throwaway smile. It's certainly not when he's talking that you see Tony Stark. In fact, she thinks, the more he talks, the less he's actually saying.]
[The offer surprises her. Genuine surprise doesn't occur all that often in her personal life, and some of it slips into her expression.
It's not the thought of the end product - which he doesn't need to sell, she has no doubt will be the highest quality - but that he's willing to do it. He's not looking to strip hers back to see how they work, trying to make them flashier and overcomplex; it's about creating a second set modelled on the first. Clever and efficient.
She still doesn't quite understand the motivation behind it.]
It sounds good, in fact. Time consuming though.
[The question's there, they both know it, but she's experienced enough with him to know that he won't necessarily acknowledge it.]
What there is of my heart is in my work, not on a doormat.
You might think I’m cold-hearted. I am.
They say here comes a hurricane, trouble is her middle name.
What in the hell did I just watch?