Who: Janet van Dyne and Natasha Romanoff What: Girls just wanna have fun When: Wednesday, October 22 - afternoon Where: Shibui Day Spa, New York Warnings: Naked ladies in the tub! Discussion of canon violence.
For Natasha, a day of spa services usually meant that she was preparing for a job, and that she needed to have every detail prepared for the work. Even if it wasn't the sort of undercover work that meant getting under the covers, as it had in her KGB days, the one percenters that Natasha had occasionally spied on over the years had expectations. Natasha assumed those roles from the ground up, as she had with Natalie Rushman when she'd spied on Tony. The foundations in those cases went deeper than choosing the right undergarments; the right spa was an invaluable tool.
So how she had ended up in a Japanese bath full of steaming-hot water scented with arnica blossom and essential pine oils was a bit beyond her. But Janet van Dyne had wanted to have a girls' day out, and Natasha had agreed, and in any case after her rather disturbing encounter with James, Natasha was ready to spend some time outside the Tower. Natasha, who had no body shame, had stripped to skin and was lounging, apparently relaxed, as the heat and the scent melted away some of her habitual tension.
"So what exactly are the herbs for, again?"
“Mmmmmm…” Unlike Natasha, Janet didn’t pretend to be relaxed. She had also stripped bare, feeling no shame at sharing a tub with another woman in the nude. Hell, she’d done more intimate things with other women, before. Resting her head back on a special pillow against the edge of the tub, her eyes closed, she told her, “Something about circulation and soothing muscles, I don’t know. It’s seasonal. They only use these oils during the autumn. In summer, it’s wonderful - they use fresh lavender and the smell is absolutely intoxicating. The detox bath is also good. “ This was not her first time at this spa.
She lifted her hand out of the water to examine her nails. “It’s too bad we can’t get a manicure here, I’m due for one. Which facial did you end up choosing?” That’s what they were having done, after their bath.
"The elemental one. I thought about the oxygen mask thing but I didn't like the idea of a glycolic peel, and the vitamin C facial seemed like the same thing. I know it's not an acid peel, but still." Natasha shrugged. The menu had been a bewildering array of choices for her. When she'd had this kind of treatment in the past, her handlers had made all the decisions. Clothing and makeup choices were one thing, but she'd never been into the technical terminology of beauty and generally left it to the experts, of which Janet was undoubtedly one. "Which one did you settle on? I should have asked you before I picked. You've probably tried them all before."
Janet glanced over at Natasha, fretting her brow. “What’s wrong with a glycolic peel?” It just so happened that she’d chosen the oxygen mask, but if there was something creepy about glycolic (she wasn’t even sure what that was), she would ask to change. “Yes,” she then replied, “I’ve had them all .” She giggled a little at the suggestiveness of that statement. “Are you having a good time? I hope you’re having a good time.”
"I'm having fun! I like trying new things. I really appreciate a chance to get out and take some time off. It's been a rough few weeks." Between Blackwood and Tony's jaunt to Afghanistan and the business of chasing the shadows of HYDRA and threats to the Avengers, not to mention her dealings with James, Natasha hadn't had much in the way of downtime. She stretched a little, generating slow waves in the tub. "And there's nothing wrong with the glycolic peel that I know of. It's just the idea of actually chemically melting the dead skin off and then peeling it away sounds like it's rough on your face. I'm a delicate flower, I guess.
"Tell me what you've been up to. Everything I've been doing is either secret of some sort or boring."
“Good!” Janet was happy to hear Natasha was having good time. Talking about herself was one of Janet’s ways of having a good time, and so she began, “Oh well, the fashion industry is always hopping. The new Autumn line was a success, and it won’t be long before we begin advertising for Winter, which includes the photoshoot you and the rest were part of, and bridalwear.. Spring is already in production. You always have to be on top of the seasons and trends.” Janet was proud that not only was she savvy in this area, but she was a trend setter herself. “It’s pretty cut-throat, this business, always trying to stay on top. I try not to stress myself out. These spa days help a lot.”
If only Janet was aware of what things Natasha did, then she’d really know the meaning of the word stress.
“Hank’s still in Europe,” she mentioned, trying to sound unattached. “He’s been away for a while doing science things, don’t ask me what.”
Natasha had read a little of Hank's research, enough to know there was nothing immediately applicable to anything she needed to worry about, and that when there was, Tony and Bruce were going to explain it in detail. "Good luck to him with the sciencing, then. And you'll have to tell me which magazines the advertisements are going to be in. I know Jarvis will collect them all if I ask, but it's not the same thing as seeing them in the wild in a bookstore or a newsstand or something.
"I saw the Pantone color report for the spring. I know I'm not supposed to wear red, but I like the color they're calling 'marsala'. And the 'toasted almond' reminds me of one of my favorite leather jackets." She had come prepared for this conversation; it seemed polite to be able to talk about something Janet could discuss at length.
Janet smiled when Natasha wished Hank luck, but it was one tinged with poorly concealed sadness. It was easier to talk about her work and fashion than her odd relationship with Hank. “It’s coming out in a spread in December’s Vouge. I ought to show you the photographs, now that they’ve been cleaned up and everything. You’re going to love them.”
It wasn’t often that people outside her normal circle of fashion friends were savvy with upcoming trends, and so when Natasha spoke about the color report, Janet sprung to life in such a way that she actually splashed the water they were soaking in. “Oh! Aren’t they lovely! I’m so attracted by the Tangerine, I've designed a beautiful polka dotted dress as well as a set of women's denim jeans in that color. That's not really a red, though. It's muted brick tone. See, that's the only problem with seasonal colors, not everybody is able to pull off every season in the color palette. I'd say you were an Autumn, especially with your red hair, maybe even a Winter. So something like that Marsala would look great on you. Even that Treetop, if you wanted to make a statement. I’d love to design a dress for you in that color, if you’d like?”
The offer was unexpected and a little overwhelming. Natasha's off-duty clothes were generally functional and, while not unfashionable, stylistically casual and minimalist. But her off-duty lifestyle hadn't required anything more fancy than jeans and hoodies and a leather jacket. Maybe now that she was no longer hiding her identity, that would no longer be the case. "That would be very kind, thank you. I have no idea where I'd wear it, though, unless Tony throws another gala. Outside of work--and obviously that's different now--I haven't had a lot of reason to wear designer dresses. I mean, not that your dresses wouldn't look great lounging around Avengers Tower, but that's not the kind of appreciation they deserve."
"Well, you know Tony!" Janet laughed. "He's always coming up with events. And who knows? Maybe you'll need to go undercover again?" She thought for a moment. "If not a dress, maybe we can work together to design something sporty for you? I think that'll be fun."
Her eyes drifted to Natasha's midriff. "I've been meaning to ask you, if you don't mind... where did you get that scar on your stomach? Did you have an operation?" This was nosey-Janet at her best, prying into peoples' private lives.
Natasha looked down at herself through the water, though she knew what Janet had to be referring to. Bye bye bikinis she'd told Steve, though it was only true in terms of any cover that might require public undress. (Private undress was often a different matter.) Looking back up at Janet, she shrugged. "Oh that? That's an old injury. I was protecting someone from an assassin, and I ended up covering him with my body to keep the shooter from hitting the target. The assassin shot through me to kill the target. I've got a matching one on my lower back where the bullet came out."
Considering that Natasha was an Avenger, and before that, a spy, Janet should’ve figured it out that the scar was from some past mission, but her mind didn’t work that way. When she was told the truth, instead of being horrified or grossed out, she was fascinated. “Really?” She budged up closer to get a better look. “Can I see the back? Was this when you were with the KGB?” She’d scanned her history on the internet.” Her eyes opened wide. “How did you ever survive?”
"Sure." Natasha rose from the water and turned around so Janet could see the matching scar. She reached around to indicate where she thought it was. "Right here. We were pushed off a cliff. I managed to save the target from that, but I couldn't stop the bullet. Literally." She stayed standing in the cold a moment longer to let Janet have a good look at the scar before succumbing to the siren call of the steamy water and settling back into it. "That was--about five years ago? It's been a while."
“Five years ago?!” Janet was flabberghasted. “That’s not a while! That’s… still pretty close! And what?! You survived being pushed off a cliff?! And you’re talking about it like it’s no biggie? Whoa.” Janet sunk into the water and kept staring at Natasha in awe. Maybe it was a bit shallow of her, but she only could imagine the action and adventure, as if she was reading a story from a book or watching a movie. But it never crossed her mind the emotions Natasha might have associated with the experience.
Natasha had long dismissed anything but the sting of the failure where that job had been concerned. It had only been reopened recently--not even when she'd had to fight the Soldier again in DC, but when she'd had to confront James and discuss the Red Room--and she was still sorting through how she felt about it. It wasn't James' fault and he hadn't chosen to do it, she reminded herself. He might feel it was red in his ledger. She wasn't so sure.
She redirected her attention to Janet, and the present. "Don't get me wrong: it was a hard job, and it's no fun to be shot." She tapped another scar, this one on her shoulder, the souvenir of her most recent tangle with the Soldier (not James). "It's a thing that happens when you work for SHIELD. Or worked for SHIELD, really, because of course I don't any more. I'm an Avenger now, and if we deal with something like the Chitauri again, there are things worse than being shot at with a gun."
Without hesitation, Janet asked Natasha the first question that came to mind, “Why do you still do it? You’re not with SHIELD anymore, nothing’s really keeping you with the Avengers. Why would you continue to put yourself in so much danger? Couldn’t you just quietly slip away to live a life of your own, without gun wounds and potentially dangerous, creepy men asking you to meet them in white dresses?”
It had taken Natasha all this this time to get comfortable in the bath again, and here she was, wanting to move. She stayed where she was and resisted the impulse to shrug. "Before I was recruited to SHIELD, I was with the KGB. I did a lot of terrible things. I've got red in my ledger and I'd like to wipe it out. Being an Avenger is part of that.
"Besides, when you have a name like mine--the Black Widow is a known quantity in certain circles--it's not like going off the grid would even help, necessarily. Someone would eventually want to track me down. Especially if I let creepy intelligence officials with white dress fetishes push me around."
“That’s too bad,” Janet said, thoughtfully, sinking into the water up to her neck. “I’m lucky that I don’t have that kind of problem. I don’t think I could live like that.” She then spoke dryly, “All I have to worry about is if Pym Particles are going to kill me.”
Natasha sat up in the water, ready to move, or do something, at the idea that something might kill Janet. Was everybody she knew going to end up a target somehow? Then the rest of it processed and she realized the problem wasn't as imminent as she'd reflexively concluded. "Why would Pym Particles kill you?"
“Are you okay?” Natasha’s sudden movement worried Janet - she hadn’t considered that Natasha would get so worked up over her statement. “Tony didn’t tell you? I thought that he told the Avengers everything.” Trying to play it off, nonchalantly, but failing, Janet revealed, “I’ve been inhaling Pym Particles so much that I guess that it’s done something to my body and now I can shrink in size whenever, without using my inhaler. Tony had me come to the Tower for a checkup and everything’s alright, but I’m still be monitored.”
She lifted her arm out of the water, to reveal her bare wrist. “Tony gave me this bracelet to wear that monitors my vitals, but I wasn’t sure whether or not it was waterproof, so I left it with my clothes.” She then smirked, “He also made it so it could give off an electric shock, which I also didn’t think was a smart thing to wear while soaking in a jacuzzi.”
"No, I wouldn't wear something like that in the bath either." Natasha refrained from commenting on the history of shock bracelets in Janet's presence. "And, no Tony didn't tell me about it. He talks a lot but sometimes he doesn't say very much--which is all to the good where people's confidential medical information is concerned, anyway. So you can shrink, now?" She looked at Janet, a considering gleam in her eyes. "If you learn to control that, there are a lot if interesting things you can do. Not fighting--but infiltration, reconnaissance, that kind of thing."
Laughter, loud and sincere, came from Janet as her rhetorical response to Natasha’s suggestion. “Can you just see me as a spy?” The thought was hilarious. “I can control it alright. I even have wings so I can fly. But I don’t think so. It may be fun to try, but I’m no 007.”
"You'd be surprised what you can do with a little training. It's the work and the dedication that make it doable. Look at Clint: he's got nothing but a bow and arrow, and he can make it work on the same team as Tony and Thor. But--" Natasha raised a hand from the water to silence Janet's anticipated protest "--if you don't think you'd be interested, you shouldn't do it. It's not always easy and a lot of people wouldn't want to put in the time, never mind deal with the trouble it can bring to your door. I'm not evangelizing the 'Avengers lifestyle'." She airquoted the words. "Just saying."
“That’s good,” Janet plainly told Natasha with a smile on her face. “Because I’m not giving up my business for anything!”
At that moment, the door opened and their masseuse entered, signifying that their time in the hot tub was finished. “Time for our facial!” Janet declared.