Barbara Gordon / Natasha Romanoff
"I sometimes feel like I've lived around a lot of teenage boys but to a one, they were all grown ass men. No excuses. Well - and Carol, but she's got the sensibilities of a teenage boy, so it all kind of bleeds together in the wash," Natasha said, but she sounded unmistakably fond as she said it, of all of them. It had been a long time since there'd been much reason to celebrate anything at all, where she was coming from. This was a nice change of pace.
"And I'm glad you did. Come out and see, I mean. I had a nice time talking books with you the other day," she said. "I do get the impulse to keep your own counsel for awhile, though, it's rattling at first. I think I'm still in the adjustment period, but at lot of my time's been spent with the people I already know. Which, don't get me wrong, is nice. I love them all - they're family, you know? But for long term sustainability, and for not falling back into bad patterns, a friend I can talk books with seems like a pretty good place to start."
She smiled as she said it, and broke off a corner of her piece of cake with the fork in an attempt to eat it with as little attention paid to the actual shape of it as possible. "Plus I think redheads should stick together, even if I'm only sort of half-rocking it righ tnow."