"Hey, that's right, she was one of the Runaways," Natasha said with a laugh, surprised she could have forgotten that after all the times she and Carol had discussed the Runaways specifically. "You know, it tracks that she was your favorite. Carol and I have this long running argument - well, it's not really an argument, it's more that it's just me trolling her because I'm a jerk. But she loves Lita Ford, so every now and then I like to heckle her that Joan Jett was the best Runaway. I'm not actually sure I'm qualified to judge the best member of the Runaways. It's a little like judging somebody on their favorite Beatle, everybody's got a different one."
She liked that a lot, Gwen's fondness for and kinship to other women drummers. She remembered how excited Gwen had been when her drums had shown up - as far as gift-arrivals went, drums seemed cooler than a goat that ate your favorite blanket, even if it was a gift for your boyfriend. Though on the plus side, Natasha's favorite jacket had also shown up, which she was wearing now.
It made her tuck her hands into the pockets, out of a little bit of fondness for the worn leather, the comfortable fit. She hadn't actually worn it in years, but it was like being greeted by an old friend, and it was perfect for this kind of weather. "Do I get to hear you play the drums at some point? I wish we could get you some kind of actual band. I can sort of sing, but not that well. Maybe we could teach Tony how to play the triangle."