Venomous

16. Having it Out

The ride on the jet from New York to where we were being stationed in Romania was largely in silence. Uncomfortable silence. Natalie was flying, so I didn't have to look at her, really. I spent my time brushing up on my Romanian and trying to sleep. I was still uncertain as to what the mission actually was, but it apparently involved independent study and solitude, which was perfectly fine with me. She left my bags on the sidewalk as she carted hers upstairs, and I could swear that she allowed the door to slam shut on my face on purpose. When we entered the apartment, however, both of us looked at each other and cursed in unison.

"ебать нет."

"фигня." Natalie glanced over at me in surprise. I shrugged. I had retained a few choice words from our time together, and it felt like a good time to put them to good use. We glanced around the efficiency silently. Then at the single, queen-sized bed in one corner. Then at the couch that looked as though it had seen better years, let alone better days.

"You take the bed, the couch is fine," Natalie shrugged, tossing her bags on the couch. I smirked.

"I know what 'fine' means in your language, Nat." Her eyes widened at my use of the familiar nickname and I kicked myself for slipping back into old habits. To my surprise, a smile spread across her face.

"I've slept in worse places. Trust me." I looked at the lumpy couch again.

"Always with the grand gestures, but never when it mattered," I muttered under my breath. Natalie's eyebrows instantly moved together in a frown.

"Parker, that's not what I..." I huffed, lifting her bags and flinging them in the direction of the bed. I missed. Oh well.

"Just take the damn bed," I snarled.

"Do you really want to do this now?" She stared at me, eyes wide, her hands resting on her hips.

"Ignoring it has been working out so well." I scoffed, and Natalie rolled her eyes.

"I seem to recall that I was the one that was punched in the nose, Brock." Now her arms were folded across her chest, and with every punctuated sentence, she was moving closer to me. I made the decision to stand my ground.

"It's hardly my fault that you couldn't land a punch!"

You're angry. I still won't eat her. Sometimes I wish AV could see me roll my eyes at their antics. We can sense it. Be nice to the short angry lady.

Natalie thought the better of whatever she was going to say in response, and she moved towards the bed. She was giving up? Really?

"Was any of it real?" She stopped moving, but didn't turn around right away, and her head dropped towards the ground as she considered her answer.

"You tell me." I frowned.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" To my surprise, Natalie had a grin on her face when she turned to face me again. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but that most certainly was not it.

"I felt like shit for lying to you. Every. Single. Day." I frowned, opening my mouth to respond, but Natalie shook her head, stopping me before I could say a word. "But it turns out that all of those times I felt guilty, all those times I cried over it, or almost confessed – you were lying to me the whole fucking time too. Do you feel guilty about it? Do you?" I stared at her wide-eyed as I continued processing what she had just said.

What is she talking about?

"What are you talking about?" I was genuinely confused now, all the more so by the shocked and quickly outraged expression on her face.

"You've been a SHIELD agent. For ten. Fucking. Years." I blinked at her as my heart traveled a full circuit from its normal place in my chest, down to the tips of my toes and back up again. Her eyes never left my face. She knew, and there was really no point in denying it anymore.

"Yeah. I was." She shook her head violently, walking towards me again with her index finger extended directly towards my chest.

"Best martial artist they've ever seen? Reporting to Hill directly?" I took a deep breath.

"I didn't lie to you, Natalie." She threw her arms in the air in exasperation.

"You said you were an accountant!"

"And you said that you were a personal assistant."

"I was!"

"Does that involve getting cozy with the boss? He had his hands all over you!"

"He was drunk, and I had it under control."

"Yeah, I remember. It looked really controlled."

We paused our whisper-shouting match momentarily to catch our breath as we stared daggers at each other.

Is she right?

"Not now." Natalie looked up at me, surprised.

"Not now, what?" She asked. I shook my head.

"I wasn't talking to you." Natasha frowned for a moment, but then it looked like she put it together.

"It...it talks to you?" I sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch. All this fighting was genuinely exhausting.

"It does. We're kind of a team."

I like that. Team.

I smirked at AV's response, and I swear I almost saw Natalie smiling too. Slightly. I glanced up as Natalie - Natasha – sat next to me on the couch. "What happened to you, Parker?" I sighed. Her voice seemed soft, almost tender. Almost like she cared. I sighed.

"You would have known if you had answered any of Eddie's calls." I stood up abruptly. Suddenly my energy was back. Funny, that.

"What calls? What are you talking about?" I scoffed as I walked into the small bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. I took the hottest shower that I could stand, and by the time I emerged from the bathroom, the rest of the apartment was empty. Typical. I moved Natasha's bags to the bed, stacking them neatly. I felt kind of bad for throwing them earlier. I looked in the fridge and then immediately wished that I hadn't, glancing around the empty place before pulling a can of soup off of the shelf, triple checking the expiration date, and making some dinner.

Hungry. I scoffed. Hold your horses, AV. When the redhead gets back from wherever she ran off to, we can go look for a snack. I ate my soup and stared at the wall before giving up, throwing a blanket over the top of the couch – I didn't want to know what kind of funky stuff was on that fabric – located another blanket to use as an actual blanket and curled up on the couch, trying to sleep. It really was worse than it looked.

The problem was that when I woke up – a good 4-5 hours later – Natasha was still gone, and now it was light outside.