Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
" So who do we talk to about this? " +
*5 years later*
"Yeah, we boarded that highly suspect warship that Danvers pinged."
A few of the Avengers stood in the middle of the compound, their holographic forms staring straight at Natasha who sat anxiously at her desk, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich resting on a plate beside her.
"It was an infectious garbage scowl." Nebula adds on to Rocket's comment.
"So, thanks for the hot tip." The talking raccoon glares over at Captain Marvel who responds with a tedious smirk.
"Well, you were closer."
"Yeah. And we smell like garbage."
Natasha turns to Okoye, "you get a reading on those tremors?"
"It was a mild subduction under the African plate." The Wakandan warrior responds.
"Do we have a visual? How are we handling it?" The red-head retorts.
"Nat, it's an earthquake under the ocean. We handle it by not handling it." Okoye answers.
The woman turns to Captain Marvel, "Carol, are we seeing you here next month?"
"Not likely."
Rocket turns to her, "what, you gonna get a new haircut?"
Carol, her face contorting to a look of irritation, speaks, "Listen fur-face, I'm covering a lot of territory. The things that are happening on Earth, are happening everywhere, on thousands of planets."
"That's a good point. That's a good point." The animal murmurs.
"So you might not see me for a long time." Danvers adds.
"Alright. Uh, well. This channel is always active. So, anything goes sideways... anyone's making trouble where they shouldn't... comes through me." Nat states.
Then, after a goodbye, one by one the superheroes all leave the chat until the only person left was Rhodey. He frowns as hensees Natasha let out an aggravated sigh, plopping down onto her desk chair. The woman smiles slightly as she notices the man staring at her.
"Where are you?" She questions.
"Mexico. The federales found a room filled with bodies. Looks like a bunch of cartel guys. Never even had the chance to get their guns off." Rhodey responds.
"It's probably a rival gang." Black Widow murmurs.
"Who knows?" James Rhodes shrugs, watching on as Natasha tears up, stifling her sobs with a bite of her sandwich.
"Have you seen her lately?" She questions, her voice cracking.
"No. I'm keeping tabs on her, though. She's doing fine, living down in California, right by the beach." A ghost of a smile appears on Rhodey's lips as he thought of the girl he's known since she was young.
