I'm lying to you // Natasha Romanoff x OC Odindottir

Chapter 17 - God, This Place is Cr*ppy

Cyrus' pov

I guess you could say the plan went well. Despite Rogers being thrown into a river by his ex-bestie and Natasha now spearheadimg a law suit, we did save millions. A good day's work in my opinion.

But sadly, I'm currently in hiding, trying to disguise the fact that I was ever involved in this logistical nightmare. Let's say the plan which included becoming a wanted suspect isn't the best I've ever come up with. Listening to Natasha's court trial, I'm a particularly popular subject of conversation (which isn't surprising seeing as how utterly amazing I am).

"HYDRA was selling you lies, not intelligence," facing the panel and jury with a stern tone, I'm not surprised there's a few moments of silence after her words.

"Many of which you seemed to have had a personal hand in telling," the man continues, pressing for her story to break a little, "Furthermore Agent, you refuse to tell us where a certain Miss Kane is. We know for fact that she was fighting with you, so how can you expect us to believe you now if you lie on such a blatant matter?"

"What the American government used to know 'for fact' turned out to be a huge pile of Russian lies," she fires back immediately, "So I don't think there's anything you can confidently confirm here, now can you senator?"

"Tell me, Agent Romanoff," the man continues relentlessly, "Why is a goddess hiding from 'mortal' justice. You don't see her brother Thor being scoped by Capitol Hill, accused of being a national threat and fugitive."

"We're all threats to you," she retaliates, mirroring every attack he sends her way with equal ferocity, "You just chose to accept that our virtues and assets far out way your desire for filling The Raft."

"You have no idea the full extent of our containment capabilities," he seethes. I can nearly see the scowl lines etched into his wrinkled forehead.

She laughs a little at this, mocking his embarrassing attempt to take control of the rapidly slipping situation, "You wouldn't be able to contain her if you tried."

I myself smirk at this. Despite offering to join her, she adamantly told me to stay in hiding for the time being. I guess she was right: she can hold both our ground.

Whispers flutter through the court room as the sound of paper rustles. The senator finally speaks, "There are some on this committee who feel, given your service record - both for this country and against it - that you belong in a penitentiary. Not mouthing off on Capitol Hill."

This is her time to hesitate a little, but when she does speak, it oozes confidence, "You're not going to put me in a prison; you're not going to put any of us in a prison. You know why?"

"Do enlighten us," a man asks, evidently fed up of her defiant antics.

"Because you need us," she states surely, "Yes, the world is a vulnerable place. And yes, we help make it that way. But we're also the ones best qualified to defend it. So, if you want to arrest me, arrest me. You'll know where to find me."

This time, it's only the sound of receding heals and rapid camera clicks which crackle through the beaten-up radio. I guess she's won. Glancing around the small hotel room, I pack up my few belongings into bag, throw out the last of my coffee and sit on the window ledge in waiting. About an hour and a half later, a series of rhythmic knocks snaps me out of my contemplative daze. Opening the door hesitantly, I see a familiar, formally-dressed, suit-clad agent.