Turbulence

New Faces

Natasha walks outside with hands in the pockets of a leather jacket, boots clicking against the pavement. Jen stands at her full size and lifts a phone.

"Bozhe moi - Shut that off and put it away," Natasha spats with a whisper.

Jen lifts it higher, "Why?"

"Aren't you a lawyer?...with a retired cop, father- Who are you texting?"

"Patsy Walker,' she huffs, keeping pace with the spy, 'She pulled some strings. Rowan will meet us at the café."

Natasha does a double take, looking upward and shaking her head, "I think you should stay Jen for a little while. It was She-Hulk's face in the papers."

Walters rolls her eyes, "AGAIN; I'm always Jen."

"Can you be any louder," Natasha waves her arms, talking through her teeth.

Jennifer looks around before reluctantly starting to shrink down. She gestures with her arms extended to mimic Natasha and stands in a sized-up coat with her eyes wide;

"Better?"

"I would've done it in an alley, but you know what? To each their own," Natasha grabs her shoulder to lead them further from off the street.

Jen mutters as Natasha takes a tie from her wrist and pins her hair, "Can I share something about you that I'll never understand? I mean, there's a lot, but about the idea currently pressing on my frontal cortex?"

Her eyes lift in momentary worry of where Jen could be going with her question, mouth now occupied with the tie.

"How do you fight with your hair down,' the lawyer questions, 'that must be inconvenient with how many flips and acrobatics are involved in your fighting style. Is that your decision or the Director's?"

Natasha stomps her boot upon messy bun completion and slips on bright cheetah print sunglasses, "We no longer have a Director; there is no S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Are you Fanny now?" Jen snorts.

Romanoff smiles, once more talking through her teeth as she matches Jennifer's pitch as best she can, "I'm always Fanny."

"Jen?" A girl with blonde highlights stands from a chair at the steel table outside in the sun.

"Rowan!" Jen smiles and pivots.

Natasha walks cautiously behind Jennifer, who, to Romanoff's bewilderment, embraces the potential killer.

"This is one of my Sorority Sisters, Fanny Longbottom," Jen introduces Natasha.

"Really?,' Rowan greets her politely with a firm handshake, 'I'm Rowan."

"Hi," Natasha follows suit, accepting her given role and embracing the potential criminal to examine the bag over Rowan's shoulder further.

She sits when Jen does, unsure if hunger is taking over or if there is a garlic odor in the air.

"Gosh, I'm so upset about Vester! I didn't know him well, but I can't believe it!" Rowan starts, dropping her bag over the chair.

Walters sighs, "It came out of nowhere."

"Horrible," Natasha mutters emotionlessly.

"Rattling,' Rowan sighs, 'I never meant for those photos I took to end up in an article. There's no way you would do something like that!"

Jen waves her hand, "I'm just glad we survived."

"If you need anything at all...I'm here for you."

"Aww! Thank you," Walters tilts her head.

"All murder scenes aside- You looked incredible last night."

Jen swats her playfully, "Your photos came out amazing."

Natasha smirks over Jen's blatant lie, unsure if it's a mind game or if Walters truly believes flattery will get her answers.

"Fanny,' Rowan addresses the spy, 'what are you doing these days?"

Natasha shrugs, "I take on odd jobs here and there."

"It's so funny; I wasn't at this college program for long,' Rowan shakes her head, 'but I don't remember you."

Jen laughs, "Yeah. Fanny here was always chasing the boys. Never went to class."

Natasha scoffs nervously, cautious over where she's going with her statement;

"Okay, I wasn't that bad."

Rowan shakes her head, "As if Jen should talk."

Walters gives a perfected side eye, "How's the photography business, Rowan?"

"It's good,' the woman laughs and shakes her head, 'hey, we're sitting here, I'm talking your ears off- Can I grab you two a coffee?"

Natasha glares at her curly-haired friend, "She doesn't need anymore."

"What about you, Fanny?"

Romanoff shifts, eyeing the bag on her chair, "No thanks. I prefer my coffee arsenic-free."

Rowan scoffs, "It's not the best place in town, but it's certainly not poisonous."

"Oh, I wasn't referring to the shop,' Natasha stands as the chair scrapes against the cement and tosses her sunglasses, 'This is a job, and you've gone sloppy by letting your bag sit in the sun for too long."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Romanoff catches Rowan's elbow, "Who sent you?"

"No one."

She whispers, "You killed Vester Beischel."

"I didn't kill him—."

A piece of metal can be heard swiping against another. Reactively, Natasha twists the wrist in her grasp, blocked from a stabbing by a green hand thrown in front of her shoulder.

Jennifer snarls, now green with narrowing eyes, "Don't stab my sister."

Natasha uses the distraction to pin Rowan's hands behind her, intent on getting information;

"WHO, sent you?!"

"I can't-!" Rowan screams as a shot is fired.

Jennifer flips the steel table with her foot and lifts it to cover the trio from the direction of the fire.

"Shit!" Natasha pants, eyes wide with fear as she now holds Rowan with a bloodied mouth, "No! No no..."

Walters swallows, keeping the table tilted in protection.

"Sniper," Natasha announces.

"I'm bulletproof, and I can scale the building," Jennifer turns to view the skyscraper.

Natasha nods, teeth clenched as Walters heads out into the street.

Romanoff lowers the woman and searches the area with her hands full of blood and her ears full of screams. She stays on her knees and digs through the crime scene. She locates the poorly secured arsenic and tightens the two bottles before shoving them into her pockets.

Natasha brushes Rowan's forehead, guilt-ridden, as she locates a small pin at the top of her forehead, removing it to reveal a different face underneath;

"Damn it!"

Jennifer pants, arriving behind her;

"Who the hell is that?!"

"I was hoping you knew."

"Never met her- That's a relief!"

Natasha stands, silently grateful for Jennifer's return in one piece as she exhales, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah? Whoever it was, they got away," Jen pants, still green with her coat tattered and pants ripped.

"We've got to go."