Who: Natasha and Stahma What: A fancy date night in which Nat is pulling out all the stops. When: Recently Where: A fancy restaurant by the sea Warnings: PG-13ish because they both have unsavory pasts that are mentioned, and shameless flirting
It had been a busy week. Natasha was looking forward to a change to relax with Stahma, and flirt a little. She had no intention of unloading her problems on the albino woman, but Stahma had a way of getting them out of her. She couldn’t talk about the incident with Clara, of course. But her dreams were another subject entirely.
Her dress was slinky, red like her hair and clinging to her body almost like a second skin. It had one of those fancy slits up to her thigh, which had the dual purpose of letting her keep a weapon hidden inside her thigh - one of two on her person, and a third was in her purse.
She picked up Stahma in her Spyder. Of course.
Stahma had started to get ready a few hours before Natasha was going to pick her up. After all, it took a while to do her make up. She’d picked out one of her nicer dresses, not that any of her clothes were anything less than that, but she wanted to make an impression. Her dress was white with some silver trim, ankle length and form fitting. There was no slit, but that was because she didn’t want to have to put make-up on her legs more than she had to to accommodate her heels. To make up for the lack of slit in the skirt, there was a low neckline. Once her make-up was perfect and all of her exposed skin was a normal human color, she went downstairs to wait for her ride.
Her wig was left long, a gentle wave to it to make it look more natural. When her ride arrived, she grabbed her matching clutch and stepped outside, locking the door behind her. There was a lack of jewelry on her, and she’d not worn her wedding ring in quite a while. Smiling, she walked up to the car, admiring it. When she opened the door and got in, the admiration then turned to her date.
“That color looks exquisite on you,” she complimented with a smile.
Natasha caught herself staring. It didn’t matter if Stahma was her natural color or one more fitting society, she was stunning. It actually threw Natasha off for several precious seconds before she replied. “Thank you. Its red or black, you won’t find me in many other colors. I have a reputation to maintain.”
She put her hand over Stahma’s. “You look amazing.”
“Both colors suit you very well.” Stahma said with a smile. “I like the red. It bring out a vibrancy in you.” It was a very passionate color, and Natasha was quite a passionate woman. In more ways than one.
At the compliment, she bowed her head briefly. “Thank you. Like you, you will only find me in varying shades of white and silver.” At least that had been since she’d changed physically into a Castithan. She’d gotten rid of most other colors from her wardrobe. Even her home was more monochrome now. But white and silver were very elegant colors.
“You should consider black or red. The contrast would be jaw dropping.” Natasha winked. She pulled out, speeding along Stahma’s driveway in a manner that was like controlled recklessness. But she was a spy, and controlled recklessness was a part of her life. Just look at who she was dating - controlled recklessness was really the only explanation.
Well, that was at least the excuse Natasha would use for now.
“Something to consider. Perhaps I shall shock you one day.” Stahma said with a smile. Though she had noticed the way Natasha had stared at her, and she filed that away for potential use later. Luckily for Natasha, Stahma had her seatbelt on and she didn’t completely mind the controlled recklessness as she sped off. It was certainly exhilarating. “You have a very lovely car. It has a nice purr to it.” Double meanings and flirting? Check.
“I look forward to that.” The words sounded more like a purr and Natasha focused her eyes on the road. She managed to make it look smooth even if she was suddenly nervous as all get out. “Glad you like it. I’ve always liked an engine I can rev up. The model name was a nice bonus.”
Okay so she bought a Spyder because of her code name. Shut up.
She would need to see what she had left in her wardrobe currently. Otherwise, she wasn’t opposed to shopping for something new to wow Natasha with. Besides, while she liked the Castithan aesthetic, she didn’t have to adhere to it so much here. She’d lived a human life here and there was no one to force her into the role Castithan females were supposed to be in. “What is the model name?” Stahma knew very little about cars. She was aware of some of the higher end cars and the popular ones, but that was about it.
Natasha couldn’t help the dork smile that crossed her face. “It’s a Spyder. I’m known as the Black Widow in my dreams, and here as well.” Her smile faltered, and she wondered if that was a name Stahma would be familiar with. It wasn’t out of the bounds of reason, she’d done a lot of work for the FSB and some of it wasn’t to be proud of.
The Black Widow. Stahma thought she’d once heard a vague whisper of someone operating by that name, but she didn’t exactly keep up with the FSB despite being the daughter of a high ranking FSB agent. “The car is certainly suitable to such a name.” Stahma’s smile did not falter as she looked at Natasha.
If there was relief, it only barely reached Natasha’s eyes. She put her hand onto Stahma’s, caressing her knuckles. There were things she’d probably never tell her - but then there were things she’d never tell anyone. Secrets she’d take to her grave. But it was tempting to share with Stahma some secrets she’d only share with those closest to her.
And that was dangerous. That could get her killed. Natasha put it from her mind. “Like me, runs like a dream.”
Considering the world she’d grown up in and married into, Stahma knew the value of secrets, but she also knew there were secrets that should never be shared. She knew not to ask certain things, and unless they somehow directly impacted either of their immediate lives, or even her son’s life, Stahma would never ask. There were secrets Stahma carried that she likewise could never divulge. Of course, some of those were her father’s secrets, and considering she was coming around to detesting the man, perhaps she could share a few of those. Enough that could potentially bring him down.
But one problem at a time. Datak was in her sights for ruining right now. She would ensure she would have her divorce and that he would get none of her money. Stahma had always had a couple private accounts that neither Datak nor her father could touch. She hadn’t been stupid, and had stored money away for herself. Emergency funds, of a sort.
“I certainly can attest to you running like a dream,” she overtly flirted, a smirk on her face. Stahma turned her hand over, thumb gently caressing the side of Natasha’s hand.
The motion sent a shiver through Natasha, starting at the skin of her hand and running up her wrist through her veins and to her chest. She grinned again (this was rapidly becoming a problem), and struggled to keep her eyes on the road. “Keep that up and you’ll get another test drive, Stahma.”
“That is quite the incentive to continue complimenting you.” Which basically meant Stahma would keep it up. “You have a very bright and beautiful smile.” It was something that Stahma had noted. A real smile was a rare thing for Stahma. She had plenty of fake smiles that she typically gave when she was wearing masks and pretending to be submissive. As such, she could always spot a fake smile from a mile away, and it made real smiles like the one Natasha wore all the more beautiful.
“I’m less easy than I look,” Natasha joked. Which meant that Stahma was simply good at working it, or getting under her skin. Maybe even both. “Yours is beautiful too. I don’t think you smile enough. Not a real smile. Not a smile that counts.” She glanced at her out of the corner of her eye.”
“I shall consider myself lucky and honored, then,” she responded smoothly. Though she did. While Stahma had a more casual approach to sex, there was a very distinct difference between meaningless sex and sex with emotions attached. And what she and Natasha had engaged in felt more like the latter. “Thank you. I have not had many reasons to truly smile.” Which was true.
Natasha had a long history of casual hook-ups that occasionally developed too many strings. Stahma was somewhere between that and actual emotionfeels, and closer to the latter than Natasha was caring to think about. “I’ve got my work cut out for myself then.”
It was probably going to be something they danced around, the admitting feelings were involved. But Stahma was more than happy to take things slow. Considering her marriage hadn’t exactly worked out (not to mention the fact Datak had raised a hand to her more than once), she was wary and protective of herself. She didn’t think Natasha would ever hit her or try to kill her, but she was still going to be cautious. It was her nature. “I look forward to seeing your efforts.”
Give Natasha a few years, she’d admit feeling. Eventually. And wasn’t Stahma still married, technically? Natasha couldn’t remember if the divorce had gone through yet or not. It didn’t really matter to her, unless it would somehow mess up Stahma’s efforts to be seen out and dating a woman. Russia wasn’t exactly friendly to that idea. “Part of that effort is going to be a really good meal.”
The divorce was not final yet, no. Nor had Datak signed the papers, from what she could tell. Her lawyer was very good at staying on top of it. This was why Stahma was going to give Datak some incentive to sign the papers and not fight her on the divorce. A few key assassinations of his underlings would put the pressure on him to give her the easy and quick divorce while he dealt with the internal chaos that would undoubtedly be stirred with the vacuum of power. Stahma had no qualms being seen dating a woman. It was her life, her heart, and she controlled who she went out with, not anyone else.
Not any longer. Stahma was breaking away from Russia and making her own way here.
“I do look forward to it. I am curious as to where we are going for dinner.” The dress code was enough to tell her it was somewhere pricey.
If it wouldn’t make Stahma look bad, Natasha would be tempted to make Datak disappear. But she also thought that Stahma needed to handle that on her own. It was too important and personal thing for her to step in unless asked, and even then she’d argue that Stahma needed to make any moves or decisions herself.
“A little seafood place, and that’s all you’re going to get.” It was literally right on the ocean, and near a pricy hotel. Natasha had her priorities straight.
The thought of asking Natasha for help had crossed her mind, but she wanted to do it herself. She’d discussed preliminary plans for such things with someone, but that had not gone anywhere yet. Stahma had other avenues to pursue, ones that would ensure she wasn’t linked to what would happen.
“Surprises can be difficult for me to take, but in this instance, it is one I shall gladly take.” It had been a little while since Stahma had had seafood, so she was looking forward to it.
It was the kind of place celebrities frequented, with a wild reputation, but genuinely excellent food. Natasha had wanted to try it for awhile, and she’d reserved a private seat - as nice as it would be to sit in amongst the crowd, there were too many cameras to risk exposure for long.
A private setting was much more romantic, as well. “I’ll tell you that we’ll have a view of the ocean.”
No one should remain exposed to cameras for overly long, in Stahma’s opinion, whether they were celebrities or not. Nevertheless, it would be an intriguing experience, even if she had little care for celebrities. She rarely watched television or movies, though when she did it was because she wanted to see some documentary or something of the sort.
“As beautiful as the ocean is, the sight of my date sitting across from me would be far more beautiful.” No one could say that Stahma didn’t have a silver tongue.
Natasha grinned, though she couldn’t stop the slight blushing at the tips of her ears. It wasn’t much farther, or much longer, before they got to their destination. Natasha got them inside and spirited through the restaurant. The private room was cozy and warm, and lit very romantically. There was a view of the ocean, and even a couch to curl up on after dinner.
No expenses spared, clearly. “What do you think?”
The restaurant itself was certainly classy, though Stahma didn’t focus so much on it as she was spirited into the private room. And it was quite the room. She could have sworn that her heart fluttered a bit in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had gone to this extent for her. As such, a warm smile crossed her face.
“I think it is wonderful.” She looked at Natasha. “You chose well.”
“A beautiful view for a beautiful person.” It wasn’t as though Nat didn’t understand. She thought that Stahma’s opinion of herself could use a little bit of lifting. That she was a person worth splurging on, worth … many things. She took Stahma’s hand, leaning in for a kiss before pulling out her chair for her.
It might be strange to most everyone who knew her, but Stahma had a somewhat less than favorable opinion of herself. Having grown up in a home where being the ideal child was ‘not good enough’ certainly pushed one towards that opinion. Then the volatile relationship with Datak hadn’t done any good. Datak was not the romantic sort. Kenya had treated her with respect, but things had not worked out there. With Natasha, she was more than a little uncertain of how things were supposed to proceed. Romance was rather alien to her. She returned the kiss, smiling into it. She was already touched by this, and the night was only beginning.
It was one of those places that did courses. Six in total, with set dishes in each one. Natasha had made sure there was nothing that Stahma was allergic to, though one couldn’t fully prepare when dealing with an alien. “I almost want to skip straight to dessert.”
Luckily for Natasha, Stahma didn’t have any known allergies, even when it came to her alien physiology. Castithans had a different diet than humans, but their physiology was close enough that she could still eat regularly. Though she may require more meat than vegetables in her diet. “Dessert is the best part of a meal. Though sometimes waiting makes it all the sweeter.”
“That’s fortunate. We can’t exactly indulge here for very long, but I’ve made plans for that.” Natasha winked. A waiter came in, pouring wine for them and presenting them with a variety of breads. Once they were alone again, she picked up her glass. “How about a toast to a smooth divorce?”
“You have thought of everything,” Stahma commented with a playful little smile. She felt special for the first time in a long time. It was like when T’evgin had made her pancakes. That feeling of being special was strange, but not unwelcome. Picking up her glass, she smiled at Natasha. “I think that would make for a wonderful toast. To a smooth divorce.” She clinked it against Natasha’s glass before taking a sip.
The wine was delicious, and it warmed her blood enough to make her finally relax, for the first time that night. Of course, she’d checked out both this restaurant and the hotel to make sure they were secure, but even then there’d been an underlying tension. Natasha never let herself relax. It was a rare occurance when it did happen. “Hopefully a fast one.”
Stahma was certainly more than happy that Natasha was taking such precautions. She wasn’t exactly one to take chances considering the line of work she was in. And Natasha wasn’t the only one who rarely relaxed, but she started to relax with the wine and being in her date’s presence. “That is my hope.” Things would be expedited once Stahma saw to a few key assassinations. “At least tonight we can simply relax and enjoy good company. Something I believe that has been earned after the last bout of Orange County craziness.”
Natasha puffed out her cheeks and let out a long sigh. “I could use a vacation after that. It’s too much to ask for a whole month without some kind of county-wide event. If I’m getting fatigued others must be worse off.”
Stahma must be really something if Nat was venting frustrations like that.
“I rather think you deserve a vacation on a beach somewhere in the tropics. Some place far away from this crazy for a little while.” Stahma wasn’t a fan of all the things that happened here, but she had somewhat become used to them. Though she wouldn’t mind if they stopped for a little while to give them all a break.
“That sounds like a good idea, but you’d probably burn to a crisp. Though that kind of reminds me…” Natasha picked up her handbag, and pulled something out. She held it out to Stahma. “I had my friend make it. It hasn’t really been tested yet but it should disguise you from now on.”
“Not unless I used an army’s worth of the strongest sunscreen.” Stahma said with a chuckle. When Natasha held the device out and explained it, she blinked a bit before she reached out and took it, a grateful smile on her face. “Thank you. It shall certainly save me hours of meticulously applying make-up to conceal my appearance.” Which would definitely be nice. More than nice. While she didn’t mind taking time for make-up, taking hours to do it got tedious.
“I’m willing to apply it.” Natasha winked. “I don’t actually think that would act as sunblock, but it’ll help you blend in a lot better than you have been. Time saver.” She put her hand on Stahma’s. “Though I hope, eventually, you won’t need to disguise yourself.”
Stahma had to smile at the comment about applying the sunscreen. “I certainly look forward to saving time and blending in better.” There was only so much make-up a person could wear before it started to look way over done. “Do you think there will come a day when people who do not Dream will not freak out at my appearance?” While she could possibly be mistaken for being an albino human, Stahma was not willing to take that risk. Especially with how people tended to respond to anyone who was different.
“Some day, maybe. If the strangeness here ever becomes wide spread. I know first hand how quickly things can change throughout the world.” Sometimes in the blink of an eye, if not sooner. “But I also think that the world will be that accepting all that quickly, either.”
“For the sake of the rest of the world, I hope the strangeness here does not become widespread.” The things that happened here were not exactly something she’d wish upon the rest of the world. “Though perhaps a tolerance shall come about in the future.”
Natasha lifted her glass again. “Maybe. But I’m not going to be optimistic. I have a certain sort of fatalism, and my dreams have only really made that worse.” Seeing what happened with mutants or inhumans, or anyone who was really different only hardened her expectations.
“Tolerance and acceptance came in my dreams, though a very long and devastating planet-wide war was fought to bring about true acceptance. Still, I do not wish to put myself in a dangerous position when in the general public. For the time being, I only allow those I implicitly trust to see my true appearance.” And that was a very, very short list. A list that Natasha was on.
“I’m glad that I’m on that list.” Whether or not Stahma was on a similar list was up for debate. Natasha didn’t have that sort of thing to hide. Her secrets tended to be of the less personal nature, though there was a trail of bodies behind her that Stahma might understand.
“So am I. It can be quite lonely otherwise.” Stahma had been lonely for a long time, with no one truly knowing her. Some might think they knew her, but they only knew what she showed them, and that tended to be a lie or twisting the truth more often than not. But with Natasha, she could tell more straight truths. Stahma more than understood having a trail of bodies behind her. She’d killed people in this life, mostly just giving the order to instead of doing it herself, but in her dreams, she had killed several people with her own hands. She never judged someone for such things when she had done them herself.
“I don’t want you to be lonely any more.” It was a frank admission, one that surprised Natasha. Even though she framed it as wanting Stahma to not be alone, it meant as much to her to not be alone either. She never needed anyone like the way she needed Stahma of late. It was disconcerting. Nat wondered if she’d seen someone a bit like her and that had been like catnip.
“Then it is a good thing I do not wish to be alone any longer either.” Stahma said with a soft smile as she looked at Natasha. It was easy to surmise that Natasha had led a lonely lifestyle considering the work she did. They both came from similarly lonely backgrounds, keeping secrets and wearing masks for the world to see. It was frightening to let someone in like this, to feel this comfortable with someone else, but Stahma knew she shouldn’t fight it. And she didn’t want to fight it.
It was going to be impossible to concentrate on dinner at this rate. Natasha’s heart was pounding in her ears and she felt the kind of nervous buzz she’d trained herself to ignore over the years. If someone could make a weapon to get through the Black Widow’s defenses. She knocked back her entire glass of wine.
If Stahma didn’t like Natasha, she would use this to her advantage. But she was also on the nervous side. Dating wasn’t exactly something she was used to doing, and she didn’t exactly like being out of her element. She sipped her wine and shifted slightly in her seat, crossing her legs. “How often do you dress up to this degree?”
“For funsies?” Natasha shrugged a shoulder. “About a tenth of the amount I dress up for work or missions.” There’d been that time she’d pulled Laura into a mission. Laura performed well, it was one reason she brought her on along with Jemma. Natasha wanted to cultivate their potential.
“You are beautiful regardless of what you are, or are not, wearing,” she commented with a sly smile. “Though you are quite striking when dressed up.” Stahma was rarely dressed down, except for when she was alone, or not feeling like putting effort into her appearance. Such as how Natasha had found her when she’d come over to be friendly company, which had turned into something more than Stahma had anticipated, but it had turned out very well.
It was something that Natasha was hoping for in terms of repeat performances. She had a tendency to find lovers that could keep up with her and while she was sometimes disappointed, Stahma had been fantastic. “God, you’re irresistible.” She had the sudden mental image of her thighs wrapped around Stahma’s pale head.
Stahma smiled and she was about to reply when the first course was brought in. It was probably a good thing that she’d saved room, but she would need to pace herself as they went through the meal. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing when they had easy conversation with each other. The downside was that it would take longer to get to the irresistible part that Natasha was alluding to. Stahma did enjoy sex, and Natasha was a very vivacious partner, one that she’d enjoy learning about what made her tick between the sheets.
Someone like Natasha could either go really kinky or really vanilla. The latter was appealing considering her job, but it was also boring. Natasha had layers, both in her sexuality and in the romance department. She left the thought hang in the air as she focused on her appetizer. It was important to her that they connect on multiple levels. Natasha just wasn’t willing to admit that.
Luckily for Natasha, Stahma herself was rather kinky. Even before the whole turning into an alien thing, she hadn’t been afraid of experimenting and trying new things. Turning into an alien had removed any remaining inhibitions with regards to sex that she may have had. But she also wanted a deeper connection with someone. She’d thrown herself into a relationship with Datak because she hadn’t wanted to play by her father’s rules and marry the drab and boring man he’d picked for her. She’d made mistakes with Kenya, and she was determined to not let whatever she and Natasha had crash and burn if she could help it.
“This is very good,” Stahma commented as she worked her way through her appetizer.
“Yes it is.” Natasha leaned her chin on her hand, playing with her food a little bit. “Given any more thought about what you want to do? Once everything has been settled with your divorce and other affairs?”
“A little, though it is still difficult to figure out where I belong in the world now. I have working relationships with some who operate illegally. I may keep those if only to ensure more protection should the bratva label me a traitor.” Though with what she had planned for the Tarrs, she doubted any retaliation would come her way for a while, if it ever did. An operation in chaos at the top did not lend itself to seeking revenge quickly. Especially with the people she had marked for death. That was something Datak had failed to understand about this. Stahma knew everything about his operation, and she knew exactly where and how to hurt him the most.
“I’m ostensibly a good guy,” Natasha pointed out. “I’ve got my share of underworld contacts.” Stahma had originally been one of them, though it was best to assume Nat didn’t usually sleep with her contacts. At least she hadn’t since she’d left the FSB and the KGB. Part of the Red Room training had been seduction.
“Then it is good to know I am able to keep such contacts while trying to be better.” Stahma knew she couldn’t change completely, but she could aspire to being something better than she was. She’d been an expert liar and manipulator. She’d killed people, both innocent and not, some with her own hands. That wasn’t going to change. She would still kill if someone threatened her or those she cared about the most. “Still, I do not yet know what I could do for legitimate work. There are only a finite number of things I could be considered qualified for.” And even then, she’d probably need to lie about her references and background. No one in their right mind would hire a former bratva operative.
Well, almost no one.
“There’s probably more than you realize. And if you need documentation, let me know. I can get ahold of almost anything.” She winked, as if forging documents was somehow not all that serious or dangerous. But living numerous lives and lies? That was one of her best skills.
“Thank you, I may certainly need such things. Though I have begun to think that perhaps I should make my status here legal.” Considering the orange orangutan running for president had it in for undocumented immigrants, and Stahma had no wish to be sent back to Russia. That would be a certain death sentence for her.
The Orange Orangutan was practically in Putin’s pocket, it probably wouldn’t be a problem. But it was still a worry. “I’ll have your papers by next week.” She would just have to use one of her more obscure sources. Nothing that could be traced back to Russia or allow the Russians to trace it.
Even so, it was best to not chance things, especially when Stahma was finally making a life for herself here. She had a home, and people who cared about her. Things here were immensely better than they would have been were she still living in Russia where Datak and her father had absolute control. “You are able to get them that quickly?” Stahma was a little surprised, though not completely. She was certain Natasha had the connections, but even those things tended to take time.
“For fear of no longer appearing to be a miracle worker, I might have gotten the ball rolling a few weeks ago,” Natasha admitted, grinning behind her glass as she lifted it up for a sip.
“Even so, you are still a miracle worker. One that I owe a very large thank you to for doing this.” Stahma said with a smile. She was touched, and rather pleased at the foresight Natasha had in getting those papers. She hadn’t even asked for them yet, and yet they were almost hers.
“You mean a … lot. Almost as much as my cat.” High praise indeed from Natasha Romanoff, the woman who liked to pretend she didn’t care about her cat.
While any other person might take offense to such a statement, Stahma did not. She understood the meaning behind it. It made her heart flutter, and she reached out to brush her fingers against Natasha’s arm. “I am pleased that I hold such a place in your life.” Unlike Natasha, Stahma had no pets, she had truly been alone.
Nat cleared her throat, feeling a little out of sorts with this conversation. It was drifting far too close to the kind of emotional baggage she liked to avoid. Which was a common theme when she thought about Stahma. “I’m..glad you’re pleased.”
Indeed the conversation was drifting too close to the emotional end of things, and Stahma wasn’t quite ready for that. For one thing, admitting her feelings for someone never really went well. And even coming to realize her feelings tended to be a battle in and of itself. So she didn’t push the conversation any further lest things become awkward. So she turned the conversation a bit. “What kind of cat do you have?”
“Liho is kind of a mutt. He’s a black cat, naturally. Showed up when I started dreaming about him.” Natasha’s lips turned into a slight frown. She remembered the cat she’d shot, in the 60s. When she’d been colder. “I spent a lot of time pretending he didn’t mean anything. Not enough time appreciating him. Animals, they… depend on you, trust you. Love you unconditionally. I thought I didn’t need that, or that if he depended on me he’d be hurt.”
“I suppose it is much like having a child. I was not precisely maternal when I became pregnant with my son, and I regret I did a lot of things wrong with him. Yet I love him more than anything.” Even if Stahma more often than not wondered if the sentiment was returned. She hadn’t been a good mother, she knew this, and it didn’t sit well with her. “Still, an animal has a way of working their way into your heart. And I would not expect anything other than a black cat being a pet of yours.” She offered a smile, this one masking a bit of the regret she felt over her own son.
Natasha smiled, a tight smile. There were certain secrets she still needed to keep to herself. “Animals and children aren’t so different, when it comes down to it. They need us, until they don’t.” Cynical, but accurate.
“Or until we push them away.” Which is what Stahma had done. Alak had taken a path neither she nor Datak had approved of, and he’d come to America. While they were on talking terms, she still didn’t really know where she stood with him. Especially with where the dreams were headed. She knew that one day that he would hate her and want to kill her. Just as Kenya would hate her one day. “It is never an easy experience either way. Both require work and love.”
“That they do,” Natasha agreed. She wondered if her own betrayals would ever have her against her friends. Her dream was headed towards another civil war. She didn’t look forward to it. In that world, she constantly strove to find a place, something to be a part of.
“Though I believe that can be said about any relationship, be it friendship or something else.” All relationships took work. Stahma had had few friends, and fewer confidants. But she was tired of being alone, and she found a solace with Natasha that she hadn’t ever had before. It was frightening and exciting at the same time.