Coffee and Books 3

Chapter 14

I've finished up my final class for this year, now I only have to write my paper on international literature for children and turn it in. I've done a couple of short courses at the local university this past year, out of interest and to boost my resumé. After all, a year of waitressing is not the biggest selling point if you want a new job and at some point I suppose I should go home - home home, in Holland - and pick up the life I left behind. Not that I'm in a hurry to do that, actually, I'm even considering never going back to that life. I'm not really sure what I want. The discovery of having powers, my relationship with Loki, my friendships with the people of Asgard, it all feels too big for a tiny country like The Netherlands.

If it wasn't so cold outside I might consider walking home from Washington Square to Midtown Manhattan. As it is, I choose to take the train home. Less suitable when you want to overthink future life choices, yet I'm not interested in freezing when I don't have to. Before entering the train station I text Loki: [ Hey babe. I'm finished. Getting on the train in a minute. Gonna pick up some clothes at home before I'll be at the Tower. ]

His response follows suit. [ See you in a bit, love. ]

I have not even put my phone back in my pocket when a slightly familiar voice pipes up from close by. "Hello Ylva."

I stop halfway down the stairs of the train station. Commuters bustle past me, one woman muttering angrily because of my sudden stop. The owner of the voice has the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up, a leather jacket on top, paired with a large knit scarf.
"Miss Romanoff." Involuntarily I take a step back, up the steps. Then another. I'm angering some more people who try to get down to the trains, yet the idea of walking into an underground train station with the Black Widow - or any S.H.I.E.L.D. agent for that matter - unsettles me enough to take some upset strangers for granted.
Natasha Romanoff acts like she doesn't notice I'm not exactly thrilled to see her. She casually bounces up the steps, following me back to the sidewalk. When I want to cross the street, she grabs my arm to stop me. Immediately I twist my arm away and step out of her reach, taking a fighting stance. My heart is racing, yet I try my best to stare her down.

The Black Widow isn't fazed. "Loki taught you well," she says with a disarming smile. "But it's not necessary, Ylva. I won't harm you, I just want to talk."

"I don't."

"Why not?" She says it like she is genuinely surprised. I don't believe it for a second.

"I don't like being ambushed by spies." I glance at my phone in my hand, Loki's contact info is still on the screen.

Natasha sees it too. "Smart," she says loosely, "contacting the boyfriend before you go home. New York can be dangerous for a woman alone at night."

"Are you threatening me?" I fight the urge to run away; I'm in a well-lit, busy area, I should be fairly safe. As long as we're talking, I'm okay. I think.

"No, Ylva, why would you think that?" Again, with the acting. She would not be here without an agenda, whether it's S.H.I.E.L.D.'s or something personal. My bet is on the latter.

"Oh, I don't know," I scoff. "My friends usually don't ambush me at the train station. You could have just called me if you wanted to talk." With my thumb I press 'call' on my phone; from the corner of my eye I see the screen change to an active call after just one ring.

If Natasha saw what I did, she doesn't show it. Maybe she just doesn't care. "I don't have your number," she says simply.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. does, it's in my file." She acts like nothing is the matter, two can play that game.

She smirks. "How did you like reading those?" That woman can give Heimdall a run for his money for knowing everything. When I don't answer, she continues. "I was wondering if you were still planning on fulfilling my request."