13864/Oh hai

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Oh hai
Date of Scene: 08 October 2021
Location: Eastchester, The Bronx
Synopsis: Returning from Olympus, Alex says hi.
Cast of Characters: Black Widow (Romanoff), Phobos




Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
The safehouse is still where she is staying. Although honestly, she was considering moving back to her old condo. Too many memories here and it was hard to be here without Alexander. Yet Natasha persevered. Maybe because she didn't want to give in to that quite yet. At least this place did have memories.

It wasn't like he was going to be gone forever. He just needed time to cope. It was something new for him. Certainly he'd lost people in the past. But this one had hit him quite hard. She understood the need to grieve. To have that time to work through the myriad of emotions.

It didn't make her any less lonely. Understanding just meant she accepted it.

She was currently on the couch, stretched out with a light blanket over her. Not one of the scratchy ones from the boxes of supplies. This was super soft and a light blue. One she had ordered online at some point. Her head was on a pillow against the arm and the tv was streaming some show that dealt with true crimes. Something involving medical examiners in cooperation with law enforcement. It was just something to have on there. An empty glass was in front of her on the closest corner of the coffee table, the remains of the vodka she'd had earlier.

Phobos has posed:
    There are many ways to descend from Mount Olympus. Most of those who transgress against the Gods are hurled away from its heights, sent over the side to disappear into the aether that surrounds the mystical mountain. The mortals who dare ascend? They often face an arduous journey back to the firmament of the earth once they descend from those nigh incomprehensible heights. But for a demi-god such as Alexander, one who would be subjected to neither yet was not powerful enough to teleport himself down from on high... his options were different.
    And the deities of Olympus managed to turn even that into a game.
    First had been Aphrodite, offering her young nephew a golden gateway that was adorned with twisting vines and bounteous roses brilliant in its beauty and perfection. Yet with the agreement he had made with her before departing Olympus he was loathe to be further indebted to her.
    Second was Apollo who suggested a ride upon a great steed of legend, his to keep should he so wish. Perhaps an effort to make up for his earlier meeting with the Black Widow.
    Third was Zeus himself, conjuring forth a flash of lightning and offering to return the youth to the world of mortals with a crack and crash of thunder to announce his arrival and return so the world could rejoice. Or at least so whomever was within earshot could rejoice.
    Yet it was, curiously enough, Hades. So rarely risen from his realm, but on this day present amongst the others. Hades who simply stepped forward and gestured with one hand, creating a single slender tear in the reality he could perceive. A single opening that merely required him to step through with his backpack onto the stoop in front of the house. No fanfare, no crack and rumble, simply a faint shift and small black wisps of power around the outline, and then it closed behind him just as fast. Depositing him there beyond where they would normally grab the key from under the rail.
    For a moment he stands there, wearing the same blue jeans and brown jacket he wore when he left, same backpack over his shoulder. And for some reason he doesn't just walk in. He feels compelled to knock.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
This wasn't a neighorhood where people solicited. Even if it were, they wouldn't at this time of night. Which meant a couple of possibilities. It could be someone having an issue. A broken down car or someone who was looking for help after being mugged.

Or it could be the persons that did the muggings, looking to get entry into a house late at night for robbery or whatever else might be in their criminal minds at the time.

She could ignore it. It'd be the simplest thing. But the possibility of the first situation brought her to her feet. She was barefooted, wearing yoga pants and an oversized Kobra Kai t-shirt. Just because ever t-shirt in that damned box was oversized for her it seemed. She had her Glock in hand as she moved to the dark stairwell. Down the stairs, avoiding the creaking third step from the bottom. Not to the door and peephole which could be a death sentence. Instead to the faux living room setup downstairs, the windows that were painted black. There was a tiny peep spot along the edge, just enough that she could see the porch. Someone there couldn't really see inside due to it being dark but if they knew it was there, they might look.

Seeing who it was, she paused. Why would he knock? That made no sense. Unless he wasn't him. But what if he was?

She steeled herself and moved to the door. He would hear the locks being disengaged. Plural. Then she swung open the door as she stepped back, gun held at the ready, aimed directly at him.

Phobos has posed:
    The door unlocking gave him enough time to shift his grip on his backpack, push a hand through his hair. Then in a rare moment of self-consciousness he breathed into a cupped palm and sniffed to make sure his breath wasn't smelly. Then he straightened back up just in time for the door to open.
    And for him to look down the barrel of the 9 millimeter in her hand. A look, yes loaded, then back up to meet her eyes. Why didn't he just come in? Or greet her in his normal way? Impostor? Possibly.
    Then he smiles a little and says, "Hey, Natasha."
    A beat, then he says, "I wanted to give you a chance to have your new boyfriend sneak out the window before I came barging back in." He looks past her for a moment as if trying to espy him, though it's doubtful the gun wavers.
    But then his smile turns a little half-lop-sided and a touch sad when he says. "But looks like I missed him." A glance to the pistol and then her again, "This brings back memories."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Considering only four people in the world knew about that incident, it honestly made her think he likely was not a fake. Her gaze was still locked on his face, those eyes that she knew so well. Then she lowered the hand, gun at her side. Her finger was removed from the trigger, resting pointing straight foward instead. "Not good ones," she replied as she regarded him.

She wanted to hug him. Kiss him. Make sure he was real. But to do so was opening herself and he had set the barrier. By knocking on the door. She wasn't sure she should cross that line, even if she was positive it was really him.

"No new boyfriend. I'm happy with the old one and balancing two would be exhausting," she replies although the humor is sort of forced. She motions to the entry, inviting him into the house that way. And leaving it to him to make any first moves toward physical contact because she wasn't sure where they stood. Why did he knock?!

Phobos has posed:
    At the invitation he walks in, setting his backpack down with a thump. Part of it is unzipped and a swath of white fabric is visible from within, but other than that it's little different than with how he had left it. But despite her strong visage he could sense the small tell-tale aspects of trepidation, fear, anxiety that might well be there, that might give him some hint of her mood and likely is what spurs him to step closer and touch her cheek gently with his thumb. Perhaps to get her to look up while she's making that attempt at forced humor.
    And when their eyes meet his smile is still there, and there's such sadness in his gaze, fatigue, a hint of what could seem like exhaustion. Yet there's also a warmth as he cups her cheek and steps close enough just so that his foot rests beside hers. "Sorry, if I'm all weird. I have no idea how long it's been. I just..."
    He glances away, over his shoulder, then back. "Seconds ago, so I haven't even had a chance to look at my phone, no idea what date it is. So I was imagining all sorts of... I don't know. Statue of Liberty Planet of the Apes moments."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
As he entered, she automatically closed the door and flipped one of the deadbolts into place. Without looking as once he touched her cheek, she did look up at him. She couldn't help herself. As he spoke, she focused her eyes on his lips as though needing to read them. Then back to focus on his eyes again. "Well the walkers took Atlanta but we're still holding out here," she told him, again trying to be light but kind of failing in all honesty.

She did move then, closing that little distance between them, presssing her body to his and feeling that heat she remembered so well. Since he ran hotter than a human by a slight bit. Anyone trying to pretend to be him likely wouldn't know that fact. So that left only a god as a possibility in her mind at this point. Maybe but unlikely in combination with the knowledge of looking down the barrel of her gun.

"I've missed you. It's been...just over three weeks."

Phobos has posed:
    "Three weeks?" He says at first as his arms enfold her, drawing her into his embrace and she can hear the slight smile in those words, a hint of relief as his shoulders ease and the tension drains out of him. Relief that it hadn't been too long, and that not too much had passed. Relief that though he had taken some time for himself upon Olympus that he had not paid at least that price for that reprieve.
    "I'm glad." He says and then leans back to find her eyes again, his hand brushing through her hair gently. She might well notice the warmth of him, characteristic of the higher metabolic rate his ilk seem to run at. Might also notice the subtle broadening of his chest, or perhaps the shoulders. Nothing hugely noticable for most. Though she could likely tell the small difference. The hint of a time having passed that's weathered his gaze slightly.
    "That I don't have to come in here and kick some new guy out. I was all ready to be all grr and tough." His lip twists up a little. Then the smile turns a little sad as if even that small spot of humor isn't enough to keep the darker emotions at bay for too long. So instead of adding something more as awkward... he closes that distance for their first kiss since his return home. A gentle thing, little more than just a touch of lips the moment after his eyes close, sharing that hint of intimacy before drawing back slightly.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
The kiss was returned. One arm slid up to rest upon his chest. The free hand. Her other moved around his waist to the small of his back. The one holding the gun, finger still off the trigger. She couldn't really tuck it into her pants. Yoga pants weren't really strong enough to keep it in place and she'd likely lose the pants along with the gun. So she was forced to hold it until they moved upstairs again.

When he pulled back, she stood there a moment longer with eyes closed, happiness spreading through her. It was him. There was no doubt now. People could pretend to be other people but a kiss with the man she loved was something that could not be faked by an imposter. Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled softly. "I missed you. Come upstairs. Rest." She didn't say talk because that was up to him. She wasn't going to push. That could damage whatever healing he might have been able to do, unless he was ready for it.

"You've been gone...longer than three weeks on your side? Cause you seem different." She tapped his shoulder. "Gained some width here."

Phobos has posed:
    "Time is strange on Olympus," Alexander offers as he starts forward at her behest, the offer of coming upstairs and resting met with a smile. Though he does pause long enough to slip an arm behind her knees and draw her up in a sweep into his arms before he sets foot upon the lowest step and starts to thump slowly upstairs while carrying her. All the while his lip is curved wryly as such a thing as carrying her so could either be seen as endearing... or annoying.
    "Spent a long time with my family, talking to some of them. It was... interesting to see how each of them reacted in some ways. Like there was attempts at empathy. Understanding. And each tried to help in some way in their own way. It was..."
    Alexander pauses at the top step and looks at her, "A different side of them that I haven't seen before. Like I know for some of them the lives of people aren't as important as they should be. But I got the feeling they all have gone through something similar. Like it was a touchstone for all of them. Though..."
    Alexander starts to carry her across that open training area toward the couch and television nook, "Some handled it better than others. And I have... man, stories to tell you. I agreed to be Aphrodite's champion in a contest in the future. That'll be something."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Some people might protest. Some people might be upset, that it was challenging their ability to take care of themselves. After all, she could walk. But Natasha? She just wrapped an arm around behind his neck and leaned in close, resting her head against him. For her, this was heaven. To have him back, holding her close.

Certainly there was still a lot to get through. To find out how he was doing, coping. But for those few moments, all was right with the world. They could deal with anything if they were together. Or so it felt. Perhaps that was naive.

"With their ages, they likely have all dealt with the same sort of thing at some point. I can't imagine they lived so long unscathed," she admits as they reach the landing. But the last revelation has her lifting her head and looking at him closely. "Champion in a contest. What kind of contest? Why does that make me nervous?"

Phobos has posed:
    "Alright, so..." Alexander's smile is a little wry, amused, but also... apologetic for some reason. As he then /drops/ onto the couch with a fwumpf only still holding onto her so that he's lying against one of the arms of the couch his back against one of those cushions and she's all nicely settled along him. She's a good bit shorter than him and they're easily nestled into the overstuffed couch. The television still shows the police procedural, grim-faced detectives speaking with desolate witnesses, luckily muted for now.
    But he's in a good enough place to sit up and look to the side at her and they're face to face, making it a lovely thing to be curled up so. He smiles a little and she can tell there's definitely a story to tell.
    "We spoke at first about love and loss, and she was... tempestuously apologetic and seemed simultaneously saddened for me and yet thrilled that I could feel as I did. She also gave me some grief for not telling her about us, that I was in lurv, and that I owed her because of it since it is her 'thing.'"
    Shaking his head as he relates that he gives her a wan smile as if she could well imagine. "She reminds me of your friend, Ms. Van Dyne, in a lot of ways. Very... social."
    Then he takes a breath and exhales slowly then explains. "Sooo. I told her the best favor she could do for us, was to... in more polite terms, leave us alone. We didn't need anything to help us. Didn't need enchantments or a quest or something to teach us to appreciate each other. That we were good. So she declared that her doing little to nothing to interfere in..."
    His lips curve upwards as he looks away as if not wanting to relate this, but then looks back to her and says. "Now these are her words. But to 'Not have a hand in one of the greatest romances for our kind in this time? Unthinkable.'"
    A deep breath, "So I told her that indeed, it's clear we should have some role to play together and perhaps there was something I can help her with in the future..." He gives a small shrug, "So she agreed and yes. So basically we're buying her leaving us alone."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
As they settled, she did lean away from him a moment. She did not get up. Just enough of a lean to put that gun down on the table next to her empty glass. That way she had her hand free, which she put around his shoulder as she settled in comfortably against him.

Again some might protest. Might move aside to their own cushion. But after three weeks without him? She wanted to keep him right where he was.

"Not sure why you would need to tell her. Don't people reach out to her when they want to find love? Or keep it? We did just fine without her help."

As he continues, her brow tightens a little and she nods. "I don't know that I like it but you did what you had to. Greatest romances for our kind, huh? Am I going to end up in some history of the gods now? Who writes that and can we break their fingers?"

Phobos has posed:
    A small laugh is given that might almost be close to a snicker as Natasha mentions perhaps breaking the fingers of one of the Olympians, which has him lifting his eyebrows as if that might not be a bad idea. He tilts his head back at her and says, "Well, that would be Clio. She's a muse. But she can be... austere in her writing. So at most we'll likely be listed as a footnote somewhere."
    That said he gives another shrug and then nuzzles his nose into her hair, drawing his arms tight around her and holding her close. A deep breath is taken, then he grumbles low for some reason before he continues. "So talked to her. Some of my uncles." There's a pause, then he murmurs, "Hercules was... surprisingly understanding. We drank together and he wasn't... as I expected him to be. He was nice." Which is a surprising thing to hear Alexander saying. Of anyone really.
    "Apollo was Apollo-getic." There that was more like him. But then Alexander frowns and his eyes take on a pained look as he looks past the room and her and everything. His thoughts turning to what had passed and the loss of life. Then he shakes his head.
    "Shit, Nat. I'm..." He shakes his head slowly. "I'm gonna miss him." Chances are he doesn't mean Apollo.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
So breaking fingers was out but footnote sounded better than ending up in a Mythology 101 class as a subject in the future. She wasn't really surprised at Hercules but she didn't have him as a relative. Just a teammate from time to time, when it suited his whims. "I'm glad it was a good visit." Though when he makes his Dad Joke, she actually groans, despite the fact she can't help smiling. "I cannot believe you just said that. And I don't care how apologetic he is, he's not invited to any family gatherings."

As he went silent and looked away, Natasha waited. Said nothing. She just remained there holding him close and gave him time to work through whatever it was in his mind. When he spoke, she was surprised.

"I know. We all are." It was the truth. The whole squad was dealing in their own ways. Some put themselves more into work. Some were less jovial. Hard to be when the one that made them laugh the most was gone from the team dynamic. But they were all functioning. Doing what they could to get themselves through it.

Phobos has posed:
    "Haven't talked to Ares about it," The choice to use that name for his father might be a hint to how he was thinking his old man might react. But then he shakes his head, takes a deep breath again, then looks back at her. "Figure I will later. Maybe." Though chances are his father already knew and was letting it lie with the will of his son.
    Then he gives a nod, meeting Natasha's gaze and clears his throat a little. "How about you? What'd you get up to?" There's a moment where he glances around the room, then back at her. "I mean, I know three weeks is a long time. I'd understand if you took a lover. I mean, I'd have to kill him. Of course. But still. I'd understand. While killing him."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"I haven't spoken to your father either," Natasha tells him. Using that terminology as well. Ares had lost people as well. Thousands probably in the course of time since he'd been involved in so many conflicts. People that might be strangers or friends. She knew he would understand but he also would know Alex needed to figure things out. To deal in his way. She had no doubt John would be there when needed. "I figured that was for you when you were ready."

WHen he asked about her, obviously trying to change subjects, she allowed him to do so. Although she did roll her eyes at the comment, laughing softly at the needing to kill him but understanding while doing so. "As I said, one lover is enough. So I've just been doing what I do. Coping with the aftermath." Which involved the funeral as well as the formal inquiry into the mission and what happened there. "Then working on new assignments as needed. Talked to Skye just a day ago. Clint is off somewhere so she's trying to learn how to cope. I told her you just do it day by day."

Phobos has posed:
    "I mean, I had like. I dunno, thirty or forty girlfriends while I was up there. Just how it is, it's a cultural thing. Right?" As he says that she can read the lie there, it's hidden behind the wry half-grin and indeed just an attempt to keep levity. But he takes a deep breath and murmurs, "Though yeah. I can imagine everyone's keeping on keeping on."
    At the mention of Skye and Clint he gives a nod and looks to the side, "It's hard to look at things through a lens that doesn't hold your immediate thoughts and concerns. And something... that feels offensive that the world just keeps on turning when you want to grab it and shake it and tell it that things suck." Because they do.
    He makes a face then looks back at her, his own gaze flitting between her emerald irises. For a time he sort of loses himself there until after they share a few heartbeats and the near silence of the room he confesses gently.
    "Ok I didn't have any girlfriends while I was away. I missed you though."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"It does have that feeling to it. When you are in the center. That the world should just stop. But sadly, it doesn't. Or perhaps not sadly," Natasha corrects, following her thoughts. "Because if it didn't, we might never move on ourselves. We might stay in that place even longer. But as the world moves, and we are forced to do the same, perhaps it helps. Though it doesn't feel like it at the time, only in retrospect."

She smiles softly then can't help a bigger grin as he admits he didn't have girlfriends. "If you did, I'd be the one having to kill them. Or at least hurt them a lot. Though if they were goddesses, things might get a bit trickier but I would try my damndest."

She leaned her forhead against his, noses touching. "I missed you. More than you will ever know." And she had. Her heart was gone with his absence, more than she had realized it would be. Though she does grin a little. "I did three days and you were unhappy. So you owe me now."

Phobos has posed:
    "Oh I /owe/ you now." He says, affecting that incredulous emphasis on the middle word, smiling as he leans in a little to kiss the corner of her mouth, just a soft mwah of sound. "Wow that sounds a little presumptuous. What you think I'd just come back and fall into bed with you again?"
    He shifts on the couch a little to turn a touch more on his side, letting him slip an arm more comfortably around her shoulders even as he cuves a leg between hers. "You think you're that tempting that you can just be all snap the fingers and suddenly I'll swoon into your arms and ask you to take me now?"
    Another small kiss to the corner of her lips, the other corner though. His smile broadens for a moment before he quashes it down and bites his lower lip. "Just because you greeted me at the door all dolled up and looking cute?" There's some teasing there since well... she was looking cute. But not exactly dolled up.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Natasha shakes her head negatively but has to chuckle a little at his antics. "No, I'm saying that you were without me three days. I was without you 22. Since you didn't get home until evening. So you are due 19 more days without me. We're keeping count now. Going to have a score tally we keep now. We might need a white board. Or one of those chalk ones you put on the frig."

When he mentions dolled up and cute, she had to arch a brow while looking down at her Kobra Kai t-shirt. It was about three sizes too big. The yoga pants fit properly at least. While being super comfy which is what it was all about. "Not sure about dolled up. You may have brain damage. Does Olympus cause brain damage?"

Phobos has posed:
    "That would explain a lot, wouldn't it?" Rampant brain damage amongst the gods. Yet he shakes his head, "But I disagree with your initial premise." He leans back into the cushy cushions of the couch, as if needing the distance to focus upon this very serious discussion.
    "I think, considering the different ways we... perceive time, and my being a being of sweetness, innocence, and light. Well that means that for every day I'm without you counts for like oh... let's be generous and say ten days your time. So really. When you look at it in the proper way."
    Alexander straightens up, sniffing a little affectedly, "It's clear you owe me eight days. However, I would argue that also each of our criteria for missing the other is the same, so really we suffer equally considering we're both gone and missing the other. In closing. I win."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
She stared at him. Just stared. As he went through the loops of illogic to reach the incorrect conclusion. Because really, that's what he was doing! "I have solved the mystery of the gods. Olympians at least. Brain Damage."

She nods succinctly as though that settles everything. "I will agree we miss each other equally," she admits. That part made sense. "So by that, we are even. We stand at 25 days a piece. Although are we going to classify the departures by the nature of the separation? Or just stick with physically being away?"

Phobos has posed:
    "I think..." Alexander nestles in and pushes a hand through her hair, "We should decide to see who missed whom more with a very natural and very organic method of research."
    As he says those last few words there's that twinkle in his eyes, amused and gentle, but then it slips more to that echo of sadness he takes a deep breath that causes his broad shoulders to shake very faintly and when he confesses quietly. "But I did miss you. A lot."
    His eyes close as he draws near across that last distance and brings his lips to hers. And for a time there is nothing else in the world save them.