samantha ross ✪ natasha romanova (oweadebt) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2012-05-24 12:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | samantha ellis, stu rice |
Who. Samantha Ellis & Stu Rice
What. Accidental run-ins and complicated reunions
Where. Brooklyn, New York
When. Thursday night, May 24th 2012
Warnings. Violence, angst... uh. Clint & Natasha?
It was raining hard that night. The kind of rain that soaked through your skin and chilled you to the bone. A freak storm that had come out of nowhere, so fast that even the sharpest weather reporters hadn't been able to predict it in time. It was almost like the sky itself was in mourning for all the souls that had passed through its atmosphere that week. The world had been turned upside down yet again, and this time it'd been captured live on television, but long after the feed had cut to static earlier that day it seemed like the entire world was suspended. Motionless. People were afraid to breathe, to speak, to so much as move in the chance that they upset the fragile silence that had followed the last of those unspeakable horrors.
Everything was still tonight, all except for one woman.
Samantha Ellis had been on her own mission since the very first day she'd become a reincarnate, and that hadn't changed this week. If anything the recent events that had taken place just made her more determined. Things were a mess. They had been a mess, but whatever was going on in the reincarnate community right now wasn't her fight. She was just a spy, not an Avenger. Not yet. The world at large wasn't her concern, and she didn't particularly care how selfish that sounded. Right now her concern was one man, and that man was Stu Rice. Clint Barton. Their Hawkeye.
She'd been watching him closely for weeks. Ever since she'd become Natasha Romanova, avoiding him was like trying to avoid a gravitational pull. A strange thought considering their short history before reincarnation had taken hold of her, but now with Natasha it felt like they had a history together that she wasn't allowed a part of. That came along with her sense of intrusion, being given a free ride into a world that had been someone else's before hers, so she'd chosen the harder road. She stayed hidden, keeping to the shadows, but like a true reincarnate of an assassin never losing sight of her target.
He was on patrol again. Samantha and Natasha had learned to anticipate his comings and goings pretty quickly just after a few days of watching him, knowing the times he usually went out to bury himself in the job and following him from a safe distance. Almost every night they did this, but as much as they wanted to she never got too close. As a rule Samantha never got too close period, so this was not a foreign notion to her. What was foreign to her was the struggle it took for her to stay true to that rule, because unlike Natasha she wasn't used to Clint Barton being the exception. So maybe, ultimately, that's why tonight of all nights, she finally slipped.
Samantha had been tailing him through the streets of Brooklyn, as he was on the tail of a few bad seeds who'd been unlucky enough to get caught in his hawk's sight. The steady pounding of rain that came out of nowhere fifteen minutes into her stealth detail immediately soaked her long hair into clumps around her shoulders, but thankfully Natasha's suit kept her mostly dry from the neck down. She was distracted by everything that had been going on that week, and just as distracted with the added pressure from Natasha to keep an even closer eye on Clint because of it, so when she dropped to the ground in a low crouch from a neighboring roof to look around the corner and find Stu nowhere to be seen, the Russian and the spy cursed at once.
"Der'mo." Shit.