emmylou | natasha romanoff

three.

2012
Springfield, Ohio

The bells on the door ding loudly as Kennedy enters the diner. She holds it open for Natasha behind her who looks around with curious eyes. The diner had been Kennedy's favorite place since her parents first took her.

"Dr. Allen!" she was greeted as she entered the diner, "The usual?"

"Yes, please," Kennedy says and the waitress, Ivy who was freshly twenty, nods her head and heads over to make the coffee. Kennedy offers a gracious smile in her direction before taking a seat in a booth.

The diner was like that of any small town, red booths, tiled floors and a counter where lonely truckers sat. In the corner there was a jukebox, but the music in it wasn't updated. All it played was hits from the fifties and sixties, something that Kennedy's mother loved.

"Wow you're famous around here," Natasha teases as she slides in the seat across from Kennedy.

"I'm not," Kennedy insists, "It's a small town so you get around to treating everyone eventually."

"I see," Natasha says as she looks at the menu, "So what do you recommend?"

"The burgers here are amazing and so are the milkshakes. My dad would always order a steak and Reagan, though fifteen, loves grilled cheese."

"Reagan has taste," Natasha says with a smile.

"Reagan is just a picky eater," Kennedy responds, "We go to a fancy restaurant and she orders chicken tenders."

"Here's that coffee, Dr. Allen," Ivy says as she sets a mug before her.

"Thank you, Ivy. And it's just Kennedy, you know that."

"Right," Ivy says blushing a little. She looks over at Natasha, "Can I get you anything?"

"I'll have a grilled cheese and a water."

Ivy smiles, "Coming right up!"

Natasha sets her menu to the side and focuses her attention on Kennedy, something that unnerves the doctor. Natasha looked at her as though she were trying to uncover all of her secrets and yet Kennedy could honestly say that she didn't have any.

"You're just drinking a cup of coffee?" Natasha asks curiously, "That seems a little unhealthy."

"I kind of function off coffee," Kennedy replies as she reaches over and grabs the sugar pourer and began to pour an unceremonious amount into her coffee.

"And sugar apparently," Natasha says and Kennedy glares at her as she continues pouring.

"So, Natasha Romanoff," Kennedy states, "Where are you from?"

"Originally?" Natasha asks and Kennedy nods her head.

"Russia."

Kennedy was now completely baffled by Natasha. The first thing that was confusing was the fact that she was vacationing in Ohio. The second was that she worked for the government. The third was that she was from Russia and worked for the government. She was kind of like a walking contradiction.

"Russia?" Kennedy asks surprised, looking up from her coffee, "You're a long way from home."

"I wouldn't call it home," Natasha mutters and Kennedy can see the way that Natasha's eyes seem to go distant.

"What would you call home? Washington D.C.?"

"Nowhere," Natasha tells her, "I don't have a home."

Kennedy's brows furrow as she sets the sugar down, "What about your family?"

"I was adopted," Natasha shares, "My family and I are kind of – estranged."