Love and War (Wandanat)

Natasha: Diplomacy

Natasha had traveled a lot. Over the years she had to move from place to place once her covers had been blown. When she joined SHIELD, and later the Avengers, she had been sent all over the world on missions. Still, she was always amazed by the beauty of visiting a new city.

She stood on the floor of the conference room, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the streets of Vienna. I'm sure Wanda would have loved to see this, Nat noted. "Excuse me, Ms. Romanoff," a voice pulled her attention away from the view.

"Yes?" Nat asked.

"These need your signature." The woman, a UN staffer, handed her a clipboard and pointed to where she needed to sign. Nat took the pen from her other hand and quickly scrawled her signature across the lines before handing both things back to the staffer. "Thank you." Natasha just nodded.

"I suppose neither of us is used to the spotlight," a man said, approaching her. Natasha turned to find Prince T'Challa greeting her.

"Well, it's not always so flattering," she reassured him.

"You seem to be doing just fine so far," he said, a friendly smile on his face. "Considering your last trip to Capitol Hill..." he mentioned the time two years before when Natasha had received attention for releasing all of SHIELD's records after Hydra was exposed for infiltrating the agency, "I wouldn't think you'd be particularly comfortable in this company."

"Well I'm not." Nat had had her quarrels with the government, surely T'Challa wasn't the only one surprised to see her here.

"That alone makes me glad you are here, Miss Romanoff."

"Why?" She raised her eyebrows, "You don't approve of all of this?"

"The Accords, yes. The politics," he leaned in, "not really. Two people in a room can get more done than a hundred."

"Unless you need to move a piano," another man had approached them. He looked just like T'Challa, if not older and wiser. He said something to his son in Xhosa, Natasha waited respectfully for them to finish their exchange. "Miss Romanoff," he nodded to her.

"King T'Chaka, please, allow me to apologize for what happened in Nigeria," she said, her back straight and hands folded behind her back.

"Thank you. Thank you for agreeing to all of this. I'm sad to hear that Captain Rogers will not be joining us today."

"Yes, so am I." Steve and Sam had both decided that they weren't willing to sacrifice their freedom by signing the Accords within a few minutes of the Secretary's visit. Nat just wished they could put their pride aside for a few goddamn minutes if it meant keeping the team together.

"If everyone could please be seated, this assembly is now in session," a voice spoke over the loudspeaker, alerting everyone to the beginning of the meeting. Both men wished Natasha goodbye as she went to find her seat in the second row.

She set her arms out on the table in front of her and reached for a glass of water to her right as King T'Chaka addressed the room. T'Challa stood confidently behind him, looking out the window.

"Everybody get down!" T'Challa shouted, charging for his father. The room was filled with screams as the windows blew in.
Natasha ducked beneath the table, covering her head as glass rained down on her. Who the hell set off a bomb? Once the dust started to settle Nat emerged from behind her chair. There were flames licking the carpet near the windows and several people, including the King, lay still, either dead or unconscious.

I have to get out of here. I never should have left. Natasha reached for her phone and rapidly dialed. Her heart raced as the phone rang. Once, twice, three times. Dammit Tony, pick up.

"Hello?" She let out a relieved sigh as Tony's familiar voice rang down the line. She stalled for a second, not sure where to start. "Romanoff?"

"Yes, I'm here. I'm on the twenty-fourth floor, there was an explosion out on the street. King T'Chaka and several others are dead. How quickly can you get me a ride back to the compound?" Natasha hated the panic and desperation that permeated her voice as she explained.

"Jesus Christ," Tony cursed, "I can send the Quinjet for you. Be ready to leave in forty-five minutes." She nodded to herself, wiping blood away from a scratch on her hand. Tony heard her breathing through the phone. "Natasha?"

"Yeah?" She looked around, distracted by the chaos that enveloped her. People were calling emergency responders, shouting for each other, and trying to put out the small fires that were slowly spreading.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked with uncharacteristic concern for her.

"I'm just a little scratched up, some of the glass got me as I took cover. I'll be fine, though. I just need to get out of here and collect myself. Tony, I need to go home."

"Then get your ass back to the hotel and grab your shit. And don't get yourself blown up on the way." There's the Tony I know and only mildly dislike.

Natasha made her way through the crowd of people before finally emerging onto the street. The blare of sirens echoed through the city and news vans were parked up and down the road, reporters already filming the destruction. Nat walked past them and didn't stop to think about anything except leaving until she found herself back in her hotel room.