Post by Natasha Romanoff on Jul 31, 2012 12:30:25 GMT -5
* * *
The connection was crackly and the music pulsed from the club, but Natasha heard the important parts just fine.
Steve.
Matt could probably hear every word; Tony was broadcasting loud and clear despite the connection. He always had been a loud personality.
Every fibre of Natasha’s being crawled at the thought that not only had Steve gotten himself into hot water, but that she hadn’t been there to back him up. They were an unofficial team, not anywhere near the point of her and Clint, of course, but Hawkeye wasn’t always available, and the Captain complimented her beautifully. Not to mention she loved what that uniform did to his ass…
Her brain fired randomly; the old habit of covering her true emotions with more menial ones had never been so starkly apparent, and she swallowed thickly.
“Don’t wait for me.” She didn’t say his name. “If he’s ready, don’t wait.”
Her eyes were dark storms, already pinpointing a single purpose: get out of the club and back to the tower, ASAP. A map scrawled in her head, her feet moving toward the door of the club.
“I’m on my way.”
The phone snapped shut. She didn’t look back; knowing Matt had picked up enough of the conversation to know too much. This was what she’d been running from tonight, ultimately, and she had no wish to say anything to him. To anyone. It was just her, and her feet, and the blocks and blocks of pavement that led toward the tower.
* * *
