A Spider's Web ll Natasha Romanoff

It Isn't A Regular Computer

After narrowly escaping S.T.R.I.K.E., I found myself in the backseat of a blue truck that Steve stole. He happened to be the one driving with Natasha sitting in the passenger seat. It was silent for the most part as we drove.

"Welcome to New Jersey. The Garden State." I muttered, reading the sign as we passed over the state line. I leaned my head against the window and continued gazing outside.

"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?" Natasha asked, making conversation.

"Nazi Germany." He responded. "And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash."

She obeyed and looked at me through the mirror. "Alright, I have a question for you, which you do not have to answer. I feel like, if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know."

"What?" I asked.

"Was that your first kiss since Italy?" She asked, a smile playing on her face.

"Huh?" I asked, taken back by the question.

"You heard me."

"That bad?" I asked.

"I didn't say that."

"Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying."

"I have to agree with Margot on that one." Steve chimed in.

"Thank you." I exclaimed.

"No, I didn't. I just wondered how much practice you've had since then."

"You don't need practice." I argued.

"Everybody needs practice. She justified.

"Steve, help me out here."

"Yeah, Steve, have you kissed anyone since 1945?" She interrogated.

"I'm 95. Not dead." Steve responded.

"Nobody special, though?"

"Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience."

"Well, that's alright. You just make something up."

"What, like you?"

"I don't know. The truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people, all the time. Neither am I."

"That's a tough way to live." Steve commented.

"It's a good way not to die, though. Or have someone you care about die because of you."

"You know, it's kind of hard to trust someone, when you don't know who that someone really is."

"Yeah. Who do you want me to be?" Natasha asked.

"How about a friend?"

"Well, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers."

"And what about you, Margot? Who do you want me to be?" She turned to me.

I stayed silent for a moment, trying to come up with the right words to say. What I wanted her to be is not what she wants to be. She already knows the answer to her question. Why was she asking me?

"Someone I can count on." I finally responded when no other answer would come to me.

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It was getting close to nightfall by the time we arrived at the location the tracker pinpointed us to. An abandoned building sat behind a gated fence. It looked run down and untouched. Even the stop sign attached to the fence was worn and paint was chipped.