Natasha (reddeath) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2016-04-06 19:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, matt murdock / daredevil (mcu), natasha romanova / black widow (616) |
Who: Natasha Romanova (616) and Matt Murdock (MCU)
When: Tuesday, the 5th, nighttime
Where: Nelson & Murdock
What: Natasha pretends to be loitering, but really, she’s waiting for Matt
Rating: PG-13, suggestive material.
Natasha knew exactly what she was doing. She considered scaling the wall and peeping in the windows, but this approach might be easier. Dressed in a hoodie to cover her head from the rain and men’s trousers, she stood outside Nelson and Murdock. She was feeling nostalgic. She wanted to know this Matt. Was he like hers? She missed him. Her memories were scattered, but he was a constant. But also, was he gathering information on the refugees? It wasn’t like Nelson and Murdock to be sneaky sneaks. And if this Matt was Daredevil, he wouldn’t want to out more superheroes. She suddenly felt stupid and began to walk fast away from the building. Bad night for this. If she broke in, there’d be water everywhere. Maybe when the rain lets up…. The work day was over, and Matt had elected to stay at the office later than usual. With the rain pouring as it was, it made it difficult for him to maneuver using his echolocation abilities, and so he was forced, for the time being, to take a hiatus from being Daredevil. Matt begrudgingly admitted that it was probably a good thing for his health, because it allowed him to fully recuperate from the fight he had, last weekend. It also gave him a chance to make it up to Foggy, by catching up on a lot of sorely neglected paperwork and case material, which he’d ignored since the previous time he’d been hurt and had to take time off to recover. Matt knew it was time to call it quits when his brain couldn’t focus on what he was reading, his fingers going over the same line of braille seven times. He locked up the office and went down the elevator, not looking forward to the walk home. The streets were flooded, and taxis were rare to come by - they weren’t even coming when called, anymore, it was too much of a liability. Matt hoped if he started walking, he’d find a random cabbie that was desperate enough to brave the weather. In the foyer, just about to leave, Matt prepared himself to go outside by turning up the collar of his coat, and pulling together his cane. As he unhooked the tie of his umbrella, his hearing noted how the rain wasn’t coming straight down in an area. It fell in a pattern to outline the body of a person standing outside the building. Why the hell would anybody be standing out there? Waiting for somebody? Who? He was the only one left in the building. Conclusion: they must be waiting for him. He cocked his head to the side to listen more carefully: heartbeat was fast, nervous, but faster than a man’s would be. A woman, then. Was she here to attack him? Matt’s fist tightened around his cane. If she was, he couldn’t afford to out his identity by defending himself the way Daredevil would. But then again, he grimly considered, there was a handful of refugees who already knew his secret, and he fatalistically wondered if keeping his secret even mattered, anyway. He decided to play it cool and see what happened. Who knows? Maybe he was jumping to conclusions.. Just before he opened the door to leave, when he felt her swiftly walking away. Now that was interesting. Opening his umbrella, he stepped outside to follow her movement and sound down the pavement. Making a swift decision, he decided to trail her, matching his pace with his own, keeping far enough distance for him to hear her in the pouring rain, but hopefully not to attract attention. This wasn’t Natasha first rodeo by any means. She knew he was following her now. She dipped into an alleyway. There was an awning by a door so she seeked shelter there. That wouldn’t throw him off, that’d only make him more curious. He’d come around soon. This was so unlike her. She stayed in her lane. But what with her mission memories and the resurface of Matt-- she was being reckless. She turned down an alley - now Matt was certain that something was up. He stopped just short of the corner of the building, just enough that she wouldn’t be able to see he was there. He could tell she was under an awning, her body dripping in the patch of space where rain wasn’t falling. Her heartrate was still fast. It was becoming increasingly more miserable for him to be standing in the middle of the storm, so he had to make his mind up fast, whether to investigate or keep going. His thirst to know outweighed his instinct of self preservation. He turned the corner and went down the alley, walking past her a few feet to make it seem like he was going to pass her by, when he stopped and cocked his head in her direction, in the role of a defenseless blind man. “Is somebody there?” he asked, with a hint of feigned fear in his voice. “Matt.” She said, very plainly, but also sort of spit out. “Don’t play with me.” She moved over under the awning to make room. “Get out of the rain. It’s Natasha.” The stranger’s voice speaking his name as if she knew him well made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He slipped under the awning as requested, lowering his umbrella as he did, his other hand holding tightly to his cane. Her voice had the slightest hint of an accent, like somebody who had lost it over years of speaking English, or maybe having worked hard to lose it. If he had to guess, Matt would say Eastern European, which made sense, given her name. “Natasha,” he repeated, mulling it over. “The one I wrote to on the Network. Well, this is awkward. Are you stalking me? Am I in trouble?” Might as well be straightforward. “No. Nothing like that. I’m a spy. I skulk.” She looked off to the side as if she were throwing the comment out. “I wanted to see…” Her heart sped up. “That if you looked like him or not.” This was stupid. This was unprofessional. But the conversation with Sharon earlier made her wonder what was in that gap in her memories. Was it Matt? Chaos showed her future and it was with Matt. But could she let someone get close to her again? What if this Matt already had a future? Matt frowned, thoughtfully, turning his head slightly in her direction. “Natasha… Romanov, is it? I remember that name. In this universe, she leaked numerous SHIELD files over the internet to expose HYDRA.” Her heart, which had slowed down under the awning, was beating faster again, her breath had shifted, and the subtle way her body leaned a fraction closer to him made Matt’s own heart start beating. Piecing the puzzle together, he realized that in the alternative universe, their Matt and Natasha must’ve been dating. Swallowing back his trepidation, he softened his voice to ask, “Do I?” “Romanova, or Romanov, either works. Yeah, she did. Sounds like something I’d do. We don’t talk much. The duplicate thing doesn’t work for us.” She looked at him. A few raindrops on his red glasses, hand wrapped around that cane. His nose, his scruff. “A little.” Natasha noticed how his voice dropped. He sounded like her Matt. “I’m sorry we met his way. There didn’t seem to be any other way.” “Don’t worry about it.” Matt muttered. He could think of several other ways Natasha could’ve approached him that didn’t necessitate waiting outside the law office of Nelson & Murdock in the pouring rain. But then Matt remembered he’d lied to his intern so she would contact SWORD for a list of refugees at the Tower, just so he could find out the identity of the woman who fought beside him last weekend. Emotions tended to make you do stupid things. That’s why Matt suddenly felt empathetic toward Natasha. The heavy rain had all but washed the faintest scent of rose from off her person, something delicate and floral for somebody who professed to be a spy. “I just found out recently that I had a duplicate in your universe.” A pause. “Your Matt… he was important to you.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He used the word ‘your’ to refer to her universe, but Matt left it to her to take the possessive pronoun to be more personal, if she wanted. Natasha smiled slightly. She hitched her breath. She didn’t want to give anything away. “He-- he was a very good friend of mine. Before I came here.” You’re a goddamn spy, Natasha, act like it. She shrugged, “You make a lot of friends in our line of business.” But her heart fluttered. It was exactly the truth. She often let her heart take the lead. Natasha defected from Russia for Clint. She moved to San Fran for Matt. She did a lot of stupid things for men. She tried to remember how Matt treated her like a sidekick. Remember the shit stuff, Nat. Don’t go running to him because you’re upset. The heart flutter and breath hitch told Matt more than whatever words Natasha had to say. And he could guess the reason why she’d come to see him - he was a substitute for the man she cared for (loved?). He also knew what it was like to substitute the person you really wanted with somebody else. Matt slowly transferred his cane to his left hand. “Tell you what, let’s get out of this rain before we both catch colds. Do you have any suggestions where to go?” He’d let Natasha decide how she wanted to take it from here. “There’s a diner a few blocks down. Let’s take this here. Unless you were going to go to bed?” She knew how it sounded and didn’t care. She started to walk quickly but then remembered Matt’s umbrella. “Share with me.” Matt didn’t care, either. “I think I know which diner you’re talking about. If it is, my apartment’s not much further from there.” He linked his hand in the crook of Natasha’s arm as he opened his umbrella with a press of the release button. They stood close enough for both of them to fit underneath. A pause. She didn’t remember where the diner was either. Maybe it was there in her New York. They ended up walking to Matt’s apartment. And one thing lead to another. Wet clothes were peeled off. Abandoned on the floor. The heavy rain pouring outside served as a backdrop to their moans and sighs. Natasha didn’t worry about how this night went differently than she thought. When they were finished, she laid her head on his shoulder and put an arm around his middle. “So.” Exhausted, Mat laid on his back, staring blankly forward, seemingly at the ceiling, while he savored the physical impressions experienced from his heightened senses after sex. His arm was possessively around Natasha’s shoulders, and his fingers tenderly caressed her arm. He was familiarizing himself with the touch of her skin, the taste of her kisses, and the scent of her body, the rise and fall of their chests as their breathing slowed with the beating of their hearts. It was the highest form of intimacy Matt knew, and he’d be able to use these sensations as identifiers for Natasha, later. But that wasn’t what he was thinking about. All he wanted to do was bask in the moment. . Ah, but Natasha had to break the silence and say something. A little disappointed, he took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled slowly before responding in a whisper loud enough for only her to hear. “Are you alright?” He knew he was nothing more than a proxy for the Matt she knew at home - was she now feeling regretful? Guilty? She sat up slightly, resting her weight on her elbow. “I’m sorry. I enjoyed myself, but you’re not him. I shouldn’t have used you. Let’s just say I had sex with someone who has the same name. Good sex, I might add,” she laughed lightly. “I just didn’t think this would happen. Life is full of surprises.” Natasha wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to be able to remember him. But it seemed rude, considering this wasn’t her Matt. She laid back down against his shoulder. “If you ever need backup, you’ve got me.” If he can find her again. “Wow,” Matt said, scratching the top of his head and ruffling his already tousled hair. “That was amazingly straightforward.” It was something he could appreciate. “You don’t have to be sorry. I knew what was happening, and I wanted it. If anything, I ought to feel bad for taking advantage of you.” He wondered if having her backup meant the possibility of future sex, but decided that might be too tasteless to ask. “Thank you,” he told her. “Considering what I do, I might have to take you up on that offer.” He was proud of his role as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but if his one-time experience with Echo taught him anything, it was a good idea to have allies, sometimes. “The same goes with me. If you ever need me, you know where to look” With a little smirk, Natasha said, “Well, now I know where you live.” She wriggled out of his touch and back to her wet clothes. “I have to get going.” She didn’t want to linger, didn’t want this to become something it wasn’t. “I don’t know if I should give you my number or something. But if Fisk gets out and you need someone to help kick his ass, I’m Black Widow.” “Should I be worried?” Matt asked in response to Natasha’s comment of knowing where he lived. He chuckled a little to hide his uneasiness. Despite how much he wanted the moment to last, Matt internally agreed that her leaving was a good thing. The instructions from Stick to not become close to anybody were embedded in his consciousness, whether he liked it or not. He couldn’t afford for this to become an emotionally attached relationship. He budged up to sit in bed, back resting against the headboard. “There’s always the network. We can contact each other there, if necessary.” A pause, and a smirk. “Black Widow. Heh. Nice. Still not as bad as Daredevil. You can take my umbrella. I have another.” As she yanked her pants up, she turned back and smiled at him. “I figure if my counterpart has told the world who she is, I don’t have much to lose.” She pulled the hoodie over her head. “Thanks. I’ll return it to you, eventually. And uh, I’m glad we came here instead of the diner.” “I’m glad, too.” Matt also smiled. “You’re welcome back anytime. Even if you want to do more… you know… of this,” he said, with a small gesture of his hand in the general area of his nude self and the disheveled bed. Natasha laughed and shook her head, “We’ll see, Casanova.” |