Tightrope

High Hopes

Natasha is in the central hub, busy in a deep conversation with herself, half English, half Russian in her mumbling.

Barton covers the mic on his phone when she slams a hand against the table. He jumps over the interruption, mid conversation with Laura.

He shakes his head and taps his lips, "Nat? Do you mind?"

Romanoff lingers long enough to get her print out and abruptly pivots on the heel of her boot. She seems to be on a mission so Rogers follows her curiously;

"Agent Romanoff-Banner, sorry I still don't know what you prefer...?"

"What's on your mind Captain," she asks with her mind elsewhere.

He's struggling to admit his snooping, "I might have been interrupting you as you were- searching the internet."

"I wasn't on the internet, I was in the database."

"Right,' he tolerates her remark like he does everyone's, with nothing but tact and patience, 'I noticed you researching an incident from about nine years ago. What was that about?"

She tucks her head, "Do I bother you when you research a certain someone from the 40's?"

"Natasha," he tucks his head as if she's just shot him in the gut.

"Sorry," she forces it.

"Please? I want to help."

She nods and skims her papers, "Well..."

Rogers takes the page she offers and gives it an elongated glance, "Any idea why we never heard about this?"

She shrugs, "Honestly? When Ivan told me I had hoped it was a lie."

"That's a, whole community supposedly displaced if we're assuming they're still alive."

"Do you think it was Izabella?"

"There's not a whole lot of information here."

"I know,' she sighs, 'I can't ask Izabella. She would've been what, a year old? That would've been quite a tantrum. Too bad her mother is deceased and Svetlana knows nothing about it. I just want to know if Izabella was born this way or if she was experimented on further."

"Maybe we should check the city's records-."

"I did. All I found was information on the community. These people existed. They're on record as being deceased at this point."

"And the cause?"

She shrugs, her hands dropping disappointedly as she quotes from her translated article, "A puff of green energy."

Steve nods, sensing the disappointment in her tone, "We'll figure this out."

She extends a paper in his direction, "Do you want to handle this? Tell me if you find a connection, anything on a secondary serum or if there's someone else present in this same city nine years ago with powers."

"I'd be happy to."

. . . . . . . . . .

"Knock, knock?" Elizabeth steps timidly into her main room, a hand caught up in her dark hair.

Bruce offers a brief smile before and lifts the 8 inch white pad he found in her kitchen hours earlier, "I kind of, invited myself to your paper? Hope you don't mind."

She shakes her head, "You could've asked me; I have a laser pad you could have borrowed. Saved some trees."

"You certainly know your way to my heart."

The woman gives up and settles on the sofa beside him, "I'm getting the sense that we are a bit ahead of where you come from technology wise?"

He shrugs, "Sometimes I like paper."