WHO: Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers WHAT: Going over the 'we're not real' facts WHERE: Natasha's suite in the Double Tree WHEN: late night WARNINGS: Possibly slight angst, other than that nothing STATUS: Closed, Incomplete
Natasha didn't know she could feel so alone. Even as a girl in training she was surrounded by other girls, who grew into other women, by her side. Then there was S.H.I.E.L.D, and although she usually felt alone in her head, it was nothing like this. The level of isolation that surrounded her in this destroyed wasteland of Vegas was something that she could handle, but that didn't mean it didn't unnerve her. She was grateful that Steve was stopping by, although the reasons for his visit weren't ones that she was looking forward to.
Awaiting his arrival she had pulled out the films and books from the second bedroom where she had stashed them, having put them there to keep them out of sight. She didn't like knowing that she was completely exposed here. Everything that she stood for and tried to hide was completely out in the open, how was she supposed to be a covert agent when she was forced to be an open book? She didn't trust these people, none of them other than Tony and Steve, and in reality she didn't like the idea of Tony and Steve knowing this much about her anyway. She took pride in her privacy. Apparently not anymore.
When she heard the knock she opened the door, moving aside to allow Steve to step in. The clothes she was wearing obviously weren't her own, the lack of functionality obvious in the baggy black shirt and loose fitting jeans, but she had no clothes here and what she could grab at Walmart would have to do until she found a place that carried her size. "Come in." Her discomfort with the situation was still lingering, and it could be heard in her voice. "I made coffee."
She walked to the small kitchen on the side, obviously meant mostly for show to make those who paid for the room feel like they were getting a fantastic deal, and poured two cups. "We're going to need it."