"NOTHING LASTS FOREVER."
Several months have passed from the infamous fight at the airport in Germany. Since then, newly married Steve and Natasha have been reunited. They spend their days running secret op missions and pass the remainder of the tim...
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" did you bring auntie nat? "
NATASHA ROMANOFF HAS NEVER BEEN ONE TO TRUST HER LUCK. Yet, there is something incredibly suspicious and rare about how many poor situations she has avoided. Times where she could have died. Other times where she should have died. And that, of course, is not even touching the surface of the large amounts of dangerous missions and wars she has been involved in.
Lethal endeavors seem to have a knack at drawing her in as tightly as the black widow webs her alias spins. Moments of time flash through her aging eyes and she can't help but think that there is a reason as to why she has survived as long as she has. For, it was only very recently in her long thirty years of life, that she has managed to make the switch between asset...to avenger.
Assassin for hire and working under men more powerful than she, to an independent operative who commands her own missions and follows no one except herself. Well, and Steve of course. Although, she wouldn't go far as to say that she "follows" him any more than just listens to his ideas. And Steve, being the devoted husband he is, never commands Natasha to listen to him or use his ranking in a way to push his authority.
They are equals in everything they do. Natasha still struggles with that concept at times. She never had the privilege to own her own body and mind. When she was a student at the academy and a KGB operative, she lived to obey orders, carry out missions no matter the consequences, and take down the threat to the cause.
She's her own woman now. Nothing else matters and she cannot rely on the kindness or predictability of her past to keep her afloat.
Breathing past the recurrent feelings of distress, Natasha brings her pale fist to the wooden door once more. The crisp knock is deafening in the peaceful farm country. In the distance, horse whinny and cows moan in the pastures. Birds twitter and flap their wings within the trees as a soft sound of metal grinds together in the barn.
Natasha only takes a few moments more before her eyes flit from side to side, narrowing slightly. Her nose wrinkles and her face sours into a faint grimace. Laura always answers the door, unless of course, she believes it to be someone who poses a threat. The lack of an answer is distressing.
Natasha breathes out a shuttered sigh, folding her lips together into a thin line as she pressed against the wooden door frame. She tried not to think about what that could mean, even if it was the only pressing issue on her mind currently. Without a second thought, she grips the glock in her waistband, silently releasing a breath as she felt the cool, metal handle.
"Laura?" The woman calls out in a stern tone of voice. The woman folded herself against the siding of the house, hand clutching the weapon in her waistband. Breath whips past her pale face, cold and distressing given the present situation. Natasha could feel her heart pumping in her chest as a million different reasons spin around in her head.
