project janus, 𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴¹

four

The office in the Triskelion had been untouched for years.

Steve could tell that by just a single glance. There was a thick layer of dust covering everything, even a coffee mug with a large crack running up one side and a fake succulent on the edge of the glass-and-metal desk at the center of the room. No fingerprints even imprinted in the dust, meaning that no one had been here in a very, very long time.

"What is this place?" Steve asked his friend. He'd encountered Natasha in the parking garage when he had been about to head out for the day. He'd already been sitting on his motorcycle, reading to crank the thing up, all too eager to get back to his empty, lonely apartment, when Natasha had come over, insisting that he stay a little longer, because he could come over to her place and eat dinner without being, as she called it, "a lonely-ass old man."

He hadn't really been given a chance to refuse.

But Natasha had said that she had to do something before they left-one last favor for Fury before the day was over, before she could be done with the man-which, apparently, involving going into a locked office when most people had gone home.

A dark-haired, long-legged, bombshell of a woman was standing at the door when they arrived. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her foot was planted firmly against the door as she leaned against it, but despite her entire posture screaming that she was relaxed, her face told a different story. It was pulled into a scowl, the woman glaring at Steve and Nat as they approached. The look...well, it almost reminded him of Peggy.

(And that very thought hurt him so much that his chest hurt just a little too much, and he struggled to breathe.)

"I could get into trouble for this, you know." Her voice had an angry, boiling tone to it. Whatever Steve and Natasha were about to do, the woman obviously wasn't happy about it.

"You could. But she would be angry about it never has to know," Nat fired back.

"She might not have to know, but you know I have to tell her."

"Let me guess: you already did?"

"Get in and get out. I've already said too much."

With that, the woman slid a key into the lock of the door, pushed the door open, and strode away.

"An office," Nat said plainly in response to his earlier question.

Steve rolled his eyes, like no shit. "I mean why, exactly, are we here?"

"Just doing a little reconnaissance."

"I thought this was supposed to be for Fury?"

"Yeah, well, I lied. It's for me. I need ammo."

"Ammo for what, exactly?"

Nat wiped a finger across the desktop, watching as it was quickly coated in thick grey dust. "For a friend of mine. She used to work in this office, and she doesn't anymore."

"Why not?"

"Circumstances beyond her control that forced her to want to change her high level position." There was still a laptop on the desk, and Natasha sat down in the large leather rolling chair, a poof of grey going up around her. She wrinkled her nose before opening the computer.

Almost immediately, it started up and requested a password, the cursor blinking in its little line in the small white box.

"Are you going to hack it?" Steve asked curiously. He'd seen Nat hack plenty of computers and other bits and pieces of technology. A work laptop seemed no sweat for her.