BLACK W⧗DOW (2020)
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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BLACK W⧗DOW (2020)
juxtaphase
Oh, he had the utmost faith in her ability to deal with anything that might get thrown at them, and that was without knowing even half of what she was capable of or had done. By reputation alone, he understood that her chances of surviving this and anything else that might happen were higher than his, just as she’d already outlived most of the team that had been sent to get her out. He also knew that the panic of being unable to breathe was a deep, primal thing, and that it would get all of them if they were left long enough, just as you couldn’t hold your breath indefinitely underwater - eventually, the lizard brain overruled the thinking part, and even if you knew it would kill you, you had to try. This was still the easiest, and the smartest, way to go about their escape, and they both knew it. They left no tracks and they used no additional energy fighting their way through snow up to their knees (or deeper in places, he didn’t know if there was frozen accumulation beneath them that would collapse under their weight), and they lost no body heat in the snow or making their way across the shallow width of the river. It was when they made it to the other side that he stopped, dark eyes scanning their surroundings as he picked a direction that looked to have better cover and the most trees that he could use, then tugged her in that direction. “Almost there,” he breathed to her, conserving his own breath as much as she was, since the long walk still made him feel like he was working too hard with the thinner air. This was why he didn’t typically take a long walk while phasing, but extenuating circumstances had different demands.
As much as she hated to admit it, Nat was started to hit her hope and pray threshold in the situation. While she could relax a little knowing that bullets weren’t whizzing past her or the sound of multiple feet hitting the snow was within earshot, she couldn’t quite relax with the lack of air in her lungs and body. Though she was being logical and knew she could simply let go of Rafi’s hand at any given moment, she wasn’t entirely sure whether or not she’d be emptying the contents of her stomach behind some tree. Her muscles ached in ways they hadn’t done in years from the sheer amount of labour she was putting on them because of the lack of air and her head had started to spin a little to the point that when a tug was given to her to lead her in a new direction she felt that she could have easily fallen flat on her face. Sheer determination was the reason she was able to keep pushing forward long enough that what appeared to be an old rangers hut came into view. It was nestled among thick brush and tall trees meaning that when the blizzard hit they should be obscured from sight if the enemy infantry were stupid enough to keep searching for them during the storm. Honestly, the smartest thing to do on their end would be to fall back and try to find their frozen corpses, after all, they were exposed, had no real supplies and no vehicle in which to weather it. It’s what she would do. Trying to pick up the pace, she silently urged him to get to the hut faster. It wasn’t in great condition, but the windows were intact and the roof didn’t look compromised. Hopefully inside they could barricade themselves in, cover the windows and think about building a low-burning fire. Fingers crossed.
juxtaphase
“That’s the ticket,” he told her as she summed up the plan in agreement, but he didn’t miss the hesitation before she took his hand. He couldn’t blame her, because the flight from their pursuers hadn’t exactly been enjoyable, but as he phased them both and started off toward the very same river she’d taken note of, he cut a much gentler pace. The air as they phased still had that thin quality that made even him sometimes feel a little panicky, like he wouldn’t get enough air if he didn’t force himself to breathe steady and take it easy, which was why they couldn’t maintain this. They’d need normal air, just as climbers in very high altitudes struggled, but they’d get some more distance and resist the cold better like this. It was the smartest move, until they found somewhere to hide. “We can cross the river like this, that’ll help break the trail up more, then we’ll get somewhere going to hole up.”
The panic was something she could easily curb, well normally she could and there had been that one incident in which she had totally lost her shit for a hot minute, but who could blame her when she’d been mere feet away from a very pissed off Hulk for the first time? This was something else entirely. Of course she knew the air was thin and breathing was difficult, but she also trusted Rafi enough to be able to reassure herself that he’d let go if she couldn’t take it any more. But as it stood, being able to walk through a fast moving and ice cold river without any trouble or getting wet was something of a huge bonus. It meant when they found somewhere to hide out that they wouldn’t have to contend with being cold and wet. A nod was all she could manage as a response because Nat wasn’t sure she could speak without passing out at this point, better not to risk it and just focus on getting out of dodge.
juxtaphase
There wasn’t really time to discuss it while they were standing in the snow, and since the rescue team’s efforts had been blown to smithereens with the unexpected arsenal that they’d walked into, their extraction wasn’t what it had been planned at. He had a way of calling for a ride,but with the storm rolling in and this close to the base, he wasn’t counting on it. He wanted shelter first, then he’d make a call out and go from there. “Our ride is gonna be delayed, we’ll find ourselves somewhere to warm up and lay low,” he told her, and the part that he didn’t mention was that it meant they’d be conserving their strength and staying as healthy as they could as long as they didn’t have anyone on their ass. He was sure that she’d find time to drill him about what he did in that time,and reached out to offer his hand to her, palm up. As long as they took it easy on the walking so that breathing wasn’t too difficult, it wouldn’t be as cold while he was phasing them both, either. He didn’t quite know why or how, but for as long as he could maintain it, they wouldn’t freeze.
It was the one thing Nat hated about doing missions in the ass-end of nowhere at this time of year; the weather was unpredictable and usually awful. Not that it was better in Russia, their winters could be harsh and bitter and it was the reason why she was happy to make America her turf. Hearing that their ride out of this snowy hell hole didn’t do much to lift her spirits, but knowing he was on the same page about finding somewhere to lay low and wait out the incoming blizzard gave her a sense of relief. But as he offered his hand to hers she found herself hesitating for just a moment. ❝ Warm up, lay low and wait this out. Sure, sounds simple enough. ❞ She said as she took a firm hold of his hand and braced herself for a repeat performance. If they could get over the river she could hear just up ahead, they’d be plain sailing, after that it was a case of finding somewhere secure and warm to wait stuff out.
juxtaphase
He was breathing just as hard as she was, if not harder, when he felt her yank her hand out of his, and he put on the breaks just as quickly, unphasing and trying not to suck in deep, greedy breaths too fast. “Yeah, okay, now’s a good time,” he gasped, nodding like that agreement was necessary as he bent over with his hand braced on his knee. He looked up again, though, scanning their surroundings for signs of a threat, but also for shelter. It was possibly fortunate for both of them that the guy who survived this long with her was SERE trained, since it meant he was an asset in the wild and cold rather than a liability, and though he’d lost some of his gear in the rescue process, he had enough to get them by. “We don’t have to keep going my way, but as soon as you get your breath back, we gotta move again.” He’d prefer to go his way, since it didn’t leave any tracks, but it would wear them both down in the already chill air.
The rush of air to her lungs had left her feeling dizzy, almost like she’d drank a whole bottle of something expensive after a long stint of being teetotal. Who knew you get drunk off of air? Seems even Nat learned something new everyday. But it was more than that, she’d learned that Rafi was more than he made himself out to be and part of her wondered if, like her, he’d been subjected to some strain of the super soldier program. Not that either of them really had time to discuss this. He was right, however, despite everything and how much ground they’d covered in their escape, they still had a long way to go and not much time for idling around. Pushing herself up from the snow covered ground, Nat extended her hand to him and gave him a smile that showed him she’d be fine to go again. ❝ Your way doesn’t leave tracks, just... when we get out of this I want an explanation. ❞ It was a fair request, or so she thought.
juxtaphase
He’d have liked to give her more of a warning, but it wasn’t like he opened up anytime he met someone with ‘hey, I can phase through things, this is how it works and the rules for phasing with me’, and there wasn’t time or breath to explain it as they ran. His only real advantage over her was that he’d done it before, many times, and was more accustomed to the sensation and the thinner feel to the air, but she was more than capable of dealing with it. At least she seemed to understand that letting go of him was the last thing she wanted to do if she wanted those bullets to keep passing through her, and he realized very quickly that she’d also noticed that she wasn’t being held up by snow or branches. It made the pair of them much faster than their pursuers, and far more difficult to track, given they weren’t leaving footprints. It wasn’t sustainable, but they’d run as far as they could, wouldn’t they?
Nat had been on some pretty wild rides in her life, well, lives would be a more apt description for she had lived many, but this one was something else entirely. Sure, she’d faced down aliens, gone toe-to-toe with gods and even been in a tight space with something big, green and full of rage, but this? This one was a new one for the books. It was utterly fascinating watching the snow beneath them not even kick up so much as a snow flake as they continued to run full pelt and part of her wondered why they weren’t sinking to the core of the earth but she put that one away to have some sort of fever dream about at a later date. the fact of the matter was that they were putting some serious ground between them and the people that wanted to put bullets into them. And when her lungs couldn’t take the strain any longer, she let go of his hand and dropped to her knee’s, a hoarse sound escaping her as she fought off the urge to dry heave from the sudden rush of air to her lungs.
juxtaphase
The way the rifle lowered and he went from just leaning the slightest bit against her to actually taking hold of her arm. He didn’t want to keep either of their hands occupied, but it was about to be necessary. “We’re about to find out. Just don’t freak out or breathe too hard,” he told her softly, because that was the mistake people made most, not that he necessary thought she would. Without knowing what he was about to do or what it would be like, she really had no way of being prepared for it, and he understood that, but it was either his way or they both were likely going to be captured. “Move.” He slid his hand down her arm to her hand, took a deep breath himself and then phased them both with a quick tug to set them off running directly through the wall of hostiles.
A little more warning for what was about to happen next would have been nice, but life rarely went to plan. As soon as their hands were locked together and he gave the command to keep her breathing steady and to move, she did as told and broke out into a run. The Red Room had taught her how to slow her heart rate, to keep the beat at an even keel so she could run for longer, but this? This was something else. She felt solid and yet entirely weightless all at once and there was a distinct lack of air. Not that there was no air at all, but like they’d hiked up a mountain and it was thinner because of how far above sea level they were. It was also interesting to note the expressions of the opposing side as they ran toward them at full pelt and then through them as though they were nothing. It was strange, running through a person and not feeling the impact and had she been anyone else Nat likely would have lost her cool, but instead she focused on putting one foot in front of the other and not letting go of Rafi’s hand.
juxtaphase
She needn’t have worried about keeping his head in the game, because he wasn’t going to be flipping his shit on her or anything of the sort, but he could understand where the headache was coming from. Hitting the cold air outside the doors at a quick pace had him still scanning their rear, then up on top of the building, but his eyes made it around to her side swiftly enough. That was where he stepped in closer to her, slowly and until he was touching her, because he didn’t trust someone not to open fire. “The fact that you two survived whatever happened in Budapest sounds promising. How’s your cardio?”
Budapest was a story for another day, but if he were to take her word for it then he’d know that the situation was familiar even if the numbers were a little more thinned out. Not that she had time to tell him this before he was stepping up beside her and taking a hold of her. His question however had a brow raising. ❝ I sometimes go jogging with Steve. Good enough for you? ❞ What she meant was that she jogged and Steve lapped her several times before a sweat even considered the possibility of breaking.
manvvithoutfear
He appreciated how candid she was, even if her manner was unexpected and even a bit aggressive beneath the civilized surface, like she knew the rules of their current location like they were accords to be followed in a war, but she’d also be back to to fight just as quickly once the finery was left behind. He didn’t know what war it was she fought, if it was simply another corporation, family or something much more involved, but she was a fighter, he was certain. She was also continuously raising his understanding of exactly how observant of others she was, particularly as she described the reasons others might find his unfocused gaze to be unsettling. He understood that she was correct, even if the people who found it uncomfortable might not realize that was what bothered them about it, but the fact that she could lay it out so completely like that was something he didn’t miss. It made him wonder what her field was. “I was blinded in a childhood accident, actually, when I was nine,” he told her, which didn’t touch on the details of that accident, that he’d pushed an old man out of the way of a truck and been struck with the chemical mess instead, but she’d find all of that out if she bothered to research him. He didn’t expect to leave enough of an impression on her for that, but it wasn’t exactly a big secret, either. It had been all over the newspapers. “Being hard to read isn’t the worst thing in my line of work.” Her explanation for being there was interesting for the fact that she intended to be a donor and potentially a consistent one, but there was a part of him that wondered at it. If she’d wanted information on the charity, he understood that setting up a meeting would certainly be the easiest and most straight-forward way to get it, so what had brought her to the party if she didn’t care to be part of the high-society crowd? Was she looking for information that she couldn’t get from a meeting in an office? Considering his reasons for being there, he wouldn’t have blamed her, but if that was her purpose, then she was far more sly than he’d previously guessed, and he was already assuming she was intelligent. “A donor? I’m sure they’d be glad to have your support, assuming you find the information you’re looking for here. What do you do?”
Had she known that he’d picked up on that she would have both been impressed but then very quickly not at all surprised. Matt was different from most men, heck, he was different than a lot of people in general. What he’d lost in sight he’d gained in perception. His blindness granted him new insight into people. He wasn’t distracted by facial expressions, the clothes people wore or how they animated themselves when they spoke; he was completely free to really hear them, to listen to the words and subtle hints they gave away about themselves without realising it. Not that Nat wasn’t completely aware of what she was saying or how she was saying it, every interaction was calculated for her, it had to be. The fact that he’d picked up that she was a fighter and in some sort of war merited a level of praise for him.
She’d been fighting for as long as she could remember and now the war was a lot closer to home. It made things complicated and in her field of work she couldn’t really afford to be complicated. Complicated got you dead or exposed, both had the same result; it ended with a bullet.
❝ Nine years old? That must have been rough... you’d had time to know some of the world around you. ❞ She couldn’t imagine going through something like that and it only showed her the strength of Matt’s character. Not that blind people were to be handled with kid gloves, but he’d pursued a profession that could land you in some high profile situations and he didn’t seem to shy away from it. ❝ No... I suppose not. Killer poker face and all that must come in real handy with some of your clients. ❞
Not that she’d pry into the sort of clients he represented, that was between him and his moral compass and who was she to judge someone else on how shady they were willing to go? No one. No one at all.
But now came the moment where her skills in the art of lying came time to shine. It was like breathing at this point, the trick was not to over sell it, to give enough detail to hook them in, but not enough that they started noticing discrepancies. ❝ I’m sure they would, isn’t that generally the end goal? As for what I do? Not too much, my late husband owned a respectable construction company in Russia and when he passed away, I took over. ❞
juxtaphase
He saw the smirk and one mirrored hers on his face, glad that the situation hadn’t gone so far to shit that the banter didn’t get a reaction, or perhaps it had and that was why the reaction was so important. That they were the only two making this path to an exit wasn’t a good sign, considering he and his guys had been meant to be a rescue team, but he had a job and she was it. It was what he did, and the rest he’d deal with later. “Says the superspy who just appraised me like a piece of meat, I see how it is. The fact that neither of us has been shot in the back is proof I haven’t been looking at your ass, but now that you talked it up, I’m gonna have to,” the told her, eyes back on the area to their rear despite his claims. He’d been firing in short bursts to eliminate any threats he caught behind them, but the fact that there wasn’t more trouble probably meant that there was a distraction elsewhere. He glanced at her when she claimed she saw an exit, following her eyes and setting his jaw. “Two older sisters, I can run in anything that ain’t stilettos, let’s go.”
Of course she knew he hadn’t actually looked, just like he wasn’t going to now. But if it helped keep his heart rate down and his head level then she’d entertain pretty much anything right about now. And it also hadn’t gone unnoticed that he’d been firing a occasional shot at the rear and keeping any would-be ambushers getting the jump on them. Honestly, it was a headache she could be doing without. But her gut was telling her that they were going to be met with some kind of welcoming committee once they got outside and damn it did she hate it when she was right. The air outside was cold and it was dark; a stark contrast to the freshly fallen snow and it took the enemy infantry -of which her quick count gave her the number thirty- about six beats before they were drawing their weapons. Honestly, it looked like synchronised gun-pulling on both sides. Nat held out both of her arms and wondered which of the men in front of her would lose his nerve first and pull the trigger. ❝ Pretty sure this is how Clint remembers Budapest. ❞
juxtaphase
Okay, so when he made that comment about flirting in a hot zone not sounding like him, he was lying because he would totally do it, but he was also telling the truth about just being a friendly sort of guy. He got irritable and sarcastic often, and the flirting was certainly not meant as anything serious, but it happened. The difference was that he was just as likely to make the same kind of comments to literally anyone he was stuck in the shit with, regardless of gender or intent, so long as he liked them well enough. Her comment had him hesitating, mouthing the words ‘let me’ like they were the shocking part of that statement, but he caught up quickly with a snort back at her. “I’m probably not good enough for that and what makes you think I’m so easy that you can just pick me up in a warzone and let me buy you a beer? I’m a classy dame over here, Romanoff.”
The smirk couldn’t be helped, Rafi was a funny guy and easy to shoot the shit with, both literally and figuratively and that made what was something of an intense situation just a little less stressful. Not that she really ever got stressed, but having something or someone she could use to divide her racing mind on didn’t hurt anyone... well, except the people that got in her way. But as they were engaging in banter and making progress, Nat saw no reason why they couldn’t continue, so far the enemy was scattering and heading to everywhere but where they were located and that meant making their escape that much easier. ❝ What makes me think that? ❞ She paraphrased before looking at him over her shoulder, her eyes giving him a quick head-to-toe before it was eyes forward again. ❝ Simple. The way you’ve been looking at my ass. Don’t deny it, I’ve been trained rigorously to spot things like that. ❞ And he’d hear the smirk in her voice, not that she was lying about her training, but maybe about him checking her out. Yeah, no, she was. ❝ Well, classy dame, you ready to make a break for it? I see an exit and I’m praying you can run in heels. ❞
juxtaphase
It would take a lot more than her scoffing to convince him that the things she’d done in the public eye,and however many things outside of it, had been heroic and a bit super. It added up just fine to him, and unfortunately for her, she couldn’t control how people thought of her. In this case, that meant she couldn’t stop him from seeing a superhero leading the way towards better cover, down an alley corridor and towards a corner. “Flirting? In a hot zone? Doesn’t sound like me at all. Just a friendly sorta guy.” He ignored her making fun of him with her own use of the word ‘hero’, well aware that they were thinking it in two entirely different ways and not willing to argue the more serious points of it.
❝ You wouldn’t be the first. ❞ She took the opportunity to check her Glock was fully loaded while they had a moment and her reply came with a tone that betrayed the concentration on her face. Not that she was lying to him, there had been times when she’d had to buddy up with someone to get a mission done and they’d taken it upon themselves to try their luck. Not that Nat minded, if it kept them relaxed and stopped them screwing things up for her she was willing to grit her teeth through it. Not that she was doing that now, as far as Nat was concerned this was nothing more than banter. Once certain the coast was clear she signalled for them to move, taking impossibly light steps as she lead the way forward for them both. ❝ If you’re a good boy and we get out of this in one piece, I might let you take me for a beer or something. ❞
juxtaphase
In Rafi’s defense, he was not an idiot by any stretch, and the only reason he was still alive was the fact that he was much more dangerous and durable than he looked. Being alongside a damn superhero and world-class spy wasn’t helping his look any, but he was only human and certainly not about to keep up with the guys she was used to. He didn’t know that he was getting reactions similar to the sighs she gave the super-powered men in her life, but he’d have been pleased with himself had he realized it; it was a talent, honestly. He moved, pulling up behind her and scanning their surroundings, including their rear, for cover as they went and trusting her to be watching in front of them, but he still huffed out a response. “I’d be disappointed if what I’d heard of you was even half what you are.”
Had she known what Rafi thought about her in regards to her status she would have scoffed at him and rolled her eyes for good measure. Superhero? Not so much, but she would take the world-class spy part; that was something she prided herself on even if it had left her feeling conflicted about her place in the world. On the one hand Nat wanted to be good, to do the right thing, but she knew that sometimes you had to do things that were considered a little bit more than shady to get the end result you were aiming for. Hence the conflict. As for the men in her life? Calling them men at times was a bit of a stretch, but they were her family so she’d berate and chastise in good nature to keep them on their toes. Once they’d made it past the area where Rafi had pulled his little stunt, Nat lead them down a corridor, keeping to the sides so that when a blind corner was upon them she could take a quick peek. ❝ Careful there, hero, keep talking like that and I might start thinking you’re flirting. ❞
juxtaphase·:
Rafi had a sneaking suspicion that it was sheer dumb luck, but his mother would have sworn by divine intervention watching out for her boy, then probably smacked him with her house shoe for trying something so stupid. It didn’t kill the endorphin rush of having accomplished it or survived, just like it hadn’t stopped a lot of the stupid things he and his siblings had gotten up to growing up, but it was a good substitute for the well-deserved praise Romanoff was denying him in favor of complaining about her uniform. His own clothes had already had his own blood on them, so anything he got hit with after that explosion was just ruining already ruined clothes; hers looked like it might not soak up the gunk the way his did. “I’ve heard enough about you to know you couldn’t possibly be squeamish, Romanoff. C’mon, we gotta move in case they try pitching another.”
Honestly? If Natasha had a house shoe to hand she’d be smacking him with it right about now, if only because he could have easily gotten them both killed, and Natasha Romanoff was not going to die because of some idiot, no, she planned to go out with a bit more style. And the only reason she was complaining about the uniform was so she could avoid giving him praise for the dumb stunt he’d just pulled. Stupid behaviour should not be encouraged nor should it receive any sort of accolade. Not that it would stop him, gut instinct told her he had a few more of those stupid ideas up his sleeve. ❝ Yeah? And you’ve probably only scratched the surface of what you’ve heard about me. ❞ She’s pushing herself up onto her feet while talking, only pausing in her movements to peer round a corner to check if the coast was clear. ❝ Okay... we’re good, let’s get the hell out of here. ❞
manvvithoutfear·:
“A power move?” he laughed, surprised but also pleased with the response as well as the sound of her own laugh. He had so much trouble reading her with that incredibly steady heartbeat of hers, so the sudden and deep laugh sounded brilliant and very genuine. It was a sound that he couldn’t resist smiling over in response. That was good, because her question was a difficult one to answer because the things he’d noticed about her were so much more subtle and harder to tell than he should be able to sense, even if she was willing to believe that his senses were a little bit better because of his lack of sight. “You like soft fabrics. Even the leather of your coat is smooth and soft. Your voice gives nothing away that you don’t want it to, so you usually sound almost like you want to laugh at something, and never uncertain. These are guesses, though, just from a few meetings. You also walk with a purpose, even with a blind man on your arm.”
❝ It is a total power move. ❞ She tells him, and feeling generous she decides to let him in on a little secret. ❝ The higher the heel, the more important the woman. Think about it, how many women do you know in your line of work? Now, think about their walk, how it sounds. I can guarantee the ones that wear the highest heels get the biggest cases. That, or they’re on a promise. It’s really just a matter of where they are. ❞ A light shrug is offered and a ghost of a knowing smile. She know he can’t see her, but she’s hoping her voice had enough inflection for him to pick up on her current mood and what she was driving at. But it was his observations of her that had her brows raising in mild surprise. Though really, she shouldn’t be. He’s more attentive than most people simply because he’s in the dark. ❝ Okay, colour me impressed and also mildly embarrassed? Because I don’t think anyone has paid that level of attention to me. ❞
manvvithoutfear·:
He didn’t make it a habit to try to be boring around a beautiful woman, but this one gave him a vibe that reminded him all too much of Elektra - the fact that they were meeting at a charity function that he was crashing certainly wasn’t helping that impression, but this woman…she just felt like danger wrapped up in delights. Of course, that meant she had his attention and his interest, but it also made him feel like caution might be more important than usual. Her evaluation of his tuxedo added onto the absolutely candid understanding of exactly what his disability meant in social situations labeled her as being both observant and intelligent on a level that he hadn’t expected to run into casually in a place like this. He listened to her slide the base of her untouched drink along the bar, leaning on the wooden surface himself as he sipped at his own drink, and managed a smile at the very astute musings. “Not necessity at all, actually. I’m totally blind, so it doesn’t matter to me if I have the glasses on or not, at least as far as getting around. Most people like eye contact, though, and I can fake that well enough from behind the glasses, just not without them. I’ve been told that the unfocused stare is a bit unsettling,” he admitted, and while it wasn’t something he dealt with often because he kept the glasses on around anyone who might have had issue with it, it had come up once or twice. That, and the glasses were as much a sign of his handicap for the world to see as his cane was - a combination that occasionally worked in his favor, but usually just meant that he was treated like an invalid to varying levels and with a wide range of sensitivity and kindness down to rudeness and dismissal. Both types brought their own frustrations, but he was so used to it by this point that he usually didn’t rise to it. It was one of the things that made his company currently so unexpected; she fell into neither category, and was instead open, interested, but without any special treatment so far. She wasn’t stepping around her curiosity like he was fragile and easily insulted, but she also wasn’t rude in her questioning. It was refreshing. She did finally down her drink, all at once and with an interesting custom in a language he recognized as Russian despite not understanding the words - he thought he might never hear the Russian language again without thinking about Vladimir Ranskahov and his brother. She’d spoken so softly that he dare not ask about it, but it was filed away for later, something to remember about her. “I’m a lawyer. Some would argue that a business opportunity and squeezing someone for intel is essentially the same thing. Reporters, too.” Karen Page, for example, was far worse than he was in that regard. “Matt Murdock. It’s a pleasure, Natasha, but what brings you here? You don’t seem to prefer the company, so there has to be a reason to bother.”
This night was purely for her. She didn’t have to ply a role or work the room in any fashion. No, she could be exactly how she wanted to be and for a lot of people that could come across as unsettling. Though times were indeed changing, there was still this air of misogyny where strong women were concerned. Of course there were successful women in various fields these days, but it hadn’t come without sacrifice. They were either labelled as cold or worse, a bitch. Not that labels really mattered to Natasha, people could think whatever they wanted of her, her skin was thick enough and more often than not she was gone before any lasting impression could be left or felt.
Still, she understood, to a certain degree how Matt felt. His disability meant that people would treat him differently for the rest of his life. Like him, she was met with either indifference because of her gender, or treated in a fashion that was downright insulting to her intelligence and her personality. Perhaps a poor comparison to make, but parallels were there, like it or not. Maybe that’s why she was speaking to him the way that she was. Curiosity was only natural, after all, she wasn’t blind and couldn’t begin to fathom what that would be like. But she wasn’t about to be insensitive, either. There was a way to ask questions and have an open dialogue about such things without being an asshole.
Natasha was very well practised in doing this. If she wasn’t good at it, well, she wouldn’t get the work she got as frequently as she did.
❝ I can see how that makes sense. People can read a lot just by being able to look at a persons eyes. Pupil dilation, a momentary glance here and there... as your eyes don’t react the way everyone else’s does, you’re hard to read, give nothing away. That’s what unsettles people the most. ❞
But now he was giving something away, something that she could use at a later date should she need to look into him. Though on the surface, a blind lawyer wasn’t likely to come up on her radar any time soon, still, it was filed away for safe keeping. ❝ A lawyer? That’s... I’m honestly surprised and that doesn’t happen very often. Did you take the bar while blind, or was that something that happened later down the line? ❞ It was hard to tell, the glasses hid any scarring that could have caused it and it wasn’t too common for babies to be born completely blind these days.
❝ As for me? You’d be right. I don’t much care for the company of those that are classed as high society, most are boring or not as smart as they think. But I am indeed here for a reason; I plan on donating to the charity and perhaps setting up a regular payment to it. I just wanted a little more information before signing any dotted lines. ❞
70yearsofwinter·:
It was okay that she’d said it, because his reaction to being told he wasn’t Steve was his own problem, from way back before the war even. Back when Steve was this tiny, fighty little guy who wouldn’t stand down or give up, no matter how bad it looked or how much Bucky insisted he take it easy once in awhile. That hadn’t changed after the serum, when everything about Steve just seemed to be enhanced physically to match what he’d always been on the inside, so everyone could see what Bucky had seen the whole time. He’d already been half-broken when he first saw the Captain in all his glory, fighting his way into a Hydra base behind enemy lines all on his own, and he’d known all that time that he could never hope to be the man that Steve had been before or had become. That sentiment had only grown the further he’d fallen, and now? Now he felt like a ghost that was still haunting the man, even now that he was back, as much as he could be ‘back’. “Doesn’t matter, it’s true.” He knew that she’d caught his misstep as much as he’d zeroed in on her misspoken jab, even without her bringing it up, and he swallowed as she told him what the results of her fight with him had been, even though he knew she was downplaying it even as she brought it up. She’d been in worse shape than she wanted to admit after that bridge fight, and he hated himself just thinking about it, but her tone had shifted. It didn’t seem as though the moment had lost any of the danger of the previous few as her anger seemed to change over into something else, but he hadn’t been afraid before, so why would he now? Maybe because he had no fucking clue what he was doing. “Isn’t it your name? ‘Natasha’ is just the informal, isn’t it?”
The history between him and Steve was something she was very much aware of, not only from the files she’d read, but from both of their mouths. Of course, each of them had a different perspective on the whole matter, but both of them had the same feeling about the other; each were good men and role models to them personally. If only Bucky could see himself the way that Steve did, the way that she did, or had... honestly, the lines were a bit blurry on that front. But what she did know, without a shadow of a doubt, is how she had felt about him back then. She had loved him and he had been the first to hold that title and perhaps the only one that ever truly has. Did she love him now? That was a little more tricky to answer, but she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t anything there, because there was. But there was also hurt and a broken heart. Had it been his fault they got torn apart? No, it wasn’t, no more than it had been hers. But it had happened and she had to live with the memory of that particular pain for a long time.
And as for her downplaying just had bent out of shape she’d been when he came firing back into both her and Steve’s lives, he was right. She was a wreck after it. One because he was alive and on the other side of the fence and two because he seemed to look right through her as he was choking the life out of her. Natasha had made peace with her inevitable death a long time ago, but back then? She wasn’t ready to go out like that and not with him being the cause of it. It wasn’t right and childish as it was, it wasn’t fair either. Yet here they were, teetering on the edge of who knew what and she found herself ready to take the plunge, or at least she had been until he spoke. Of course he’d know about that, of course he’d know how Russian’s addressed one another. ❝ Da. ❞ A slip into her mother-tongue. ❝ Yes... Natasha is the informal name and the only one I go by now... Natalia died a long time ago. ❞