The Eternal Avenger

Chapter Four: Questions

(Natasha's POV)

I groaned loudly when my alarm went off at 6am.  Why was I doing this again?  I grumbled, swinging my feet out of the bed, reaching down to collect the slightly broken pieces of my alarm clock and slamming it – a little harder than necessary – onto the nightstand.  I rubbed the blurriness out of my eyes, glancing around.  I frowned, recognizing the feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I felt excited.  I scanned through my brain curiously as I made my way to my bathroom to try to make myself look like a human being.  Why was I eager to get out of here?  Was it because I'd most likely get to see Claray again?  I frowned again, resting my hands on either side of the sink, staring into the mirror.  I didn't get excited over things, certainly not over people.  I shook my head, glaring at myself.  What the hell was happening?  After getting ready, I made myself a bagel, grabbed an apple for later and made my way to street-level, starting to walk towards my destination.

(Claray's POV)

When I strolled towards my store casually at 9 am, I realized quickly that I was not alone.  A person was leaning against the column next to my storefront, eating an apple.  I frowned to myself.  We never got customers this early.  To be honest, we rarely got customers at all.  As I approached, I recognized the trademark red hair, although the clothes were different than either of the outfits I had seen previously.  She was already watching me.  How long had she been able to see my approach?  Her chin was lowered, but her eyes were watching me, arms characteristically crossed in front of her chest.  I caught the hint of a smirk on her face as I approached.

"Agent Romanoff," I nodded to her, offering a small smile.

"It's Natasha," she laughed.

"Can I help you with something?"  I stood next to her, unlocking the door to the shop, before holding the door opening and gesturing her inside.  I followed her in, allowing the door to close behind me as I scoped the room.  Everything seemed to be in place, and my more questionable items were either stored off-site or in the back room.

"I just wanted to stop by to see how you were holding up," she shrugged.  Polite but unnecessary, and I couldn't resist the urge to play with her a little.
"Are the Avengers doing house calls to every person in New York City, or am I special somehow?"  I teased, quirking an eyebrow at her.  She smirked.

"I also wanted to drop this off," she said, handing me an envelope.  I opened it.  She was watching me intently.  I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"A thank you note?" I managed, between fits of laughter.  She couldn't resist and laughed with me.

"Well, I appreciated the effort that you put in yesterday, helping to clean up."  I nodded, crossing the room to place the note on my desk.  I sat back, leaning against the front of the desk, crossing my arms and looking at her.

"So why are you really here, Agent?"  I wasn't buying this act for a moment.  She walked towards me, shrugging her shoulders simply.

"I'm trying to get a read on you," she answered.  I was surprised by her honesty.

"You or Shield?" I asked.  Her eyes narrowed some.  There it was.  

"For now, just me," she answered, hesitantly.

"Why?" I asked.  I raised my eyebrows again as she made herself at home, plopping down on the counter across from me.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed," she started, "but things have gotten a little crazy lately."  I laughed.  I had to give her that one.  I nodded, encouraging her to continue.  "It's Shield policy to investigate people who behave...differently than expected.  There's been a rise of people lately that have caught our attention.  Jessica Jones.  Luke Cage.  Anyone with...abilities...that pops up."  I laughed.

"I'm not a superhero, Agent Romanoff."  I shrugged.  "Your time would be better served elsewhere."

"Maybe," she countered.  "Maybe I'm just curious about the neighborhood's newest good Samaritan."  I sighed, shaking my head.

"I just want to help out, no matter where I'm located."  It was true.  Granted, it was only a small fraction of the total truth, but she didn't need to know that.

"So, you moved here recently?"  I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Have you been checking up on me, Agent Romanoff?"  She smirked, recognizing the fact that I was using her words against her.  She was feisty AND sharp.  In my experience – and there's been a lot of experience – that was a dangerous but fun combo.

"Kind of my job," she countered.  I nodded.

"Your visit.  Is it professional or personal?"  I wanted to get to the bottom of this before anything else happened.  I do not enjoy being taken by surprise, and as the events of the previous few days could attest, being caught off guard could be extremely dangerous.  I saw her thinking about her answer.

"I haven't decided yet," she shrugged again.  Apparently, we communicated through body language far more than actual words.  She was watching me just as closely as I was watching her.  This woman didn't miss anything, and I knew that although she was clearly smart, clearly pretty and dedicated to her job, she was an Avenger, and I couldn't afford to let my guard down completely.  That didn't mean that I couldn't offer her something, though.

"I moved to New York not too long ago from Europe," I offered.  She nodded, as though I was confirming something she already knew.

"I don't notice an accent, where are you from?" She was digging, but it didn't seem forced.  To be honest, it seemed more curious than anything else.

"Scotland," I smiled.  That accent is a bitch to get over, but I had the time.  She nodded.  She seemed wary, as though she knew I was holding back.  She jumped down off of the counter and smiled.

"I'll let you get back to your day, Claray.  It was nice seeing you."  She walked towards the door, glancing back over her shoulder.

"Always a pleasure, Agent Romanoff."  She laughed as she pushed open the door.

"It's Natasha."  The door closed behind her with a faint jingling sound from the bell overhead.

(Natasha's POV)

I walked out of the store and headed back towards the tower, mentally taking stock as I did so.  Claray was interesting.  There was something about her that I couldn't quite put my finger on.  She was holding back, but then again, so was I.  I couldn't say I blamed her.  I'd been a spy for so many people for so long, having someone new poking around and asking questions couldn't be comfortable.  I waited around the corner for the rest of the afternoon, noting that she left the shop promptly at 5.  I was going to attempt to follow her, but my phone started ringing.  Duty Calls.  I sighed, picking up the call and already moving by the time I had a destination.