14571/Turning North

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Turning North
Date of Scene: 18 October 2022
Location: Off the coast of France.
Synopsis: Nat and Alex discuss dinner plans.
Cast of Characters: Black Widow (Romanoff), Phobos




Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
The trip had been amazing thus far. Hugging the coast of the Meditterranean from Greece on their way to England. From there planned on heading west across to the United States. Perhaps a stop in Iceland on the way over. No rush, no hurry, just the two of then spending precious time together.

They were currently anchored off the coast of France. Allowing them to enjoy some time without the need to take care of the boat. Though admittedly, it was more a ship than a boat since it was a rather large yacht. It also could almost sail itself.

Though at the moment, Natasha was climbing up the ladder from having taken a swim in the ocean. The water was getting cooler the further they went north so she was enjoying it while she could. This might be the last, to be fair.

The ladder at the back of the yacht was used, allowing her to climb aboard. She ran her hands over her head, forcing water out a bit and pushing it to the back to drip down there instead of into her eyes. She wore a red bikini and a smile. What more was needed? But she was immediately looking for her towel because brrr!
Phobos has posed:
    "Hey," Came the voice of her man. Just a small smile heard in the words, that slight lilt she's used to. It was a large ship, but when they were on deck not too many places they could hide. So she knew he was over there in the salloon area, rising up as she emerged and scooping one of the towels up.
    His smile grew as he approached and stepped to her side, slipping that towel over her shoulders and then his arms around her waist. Just enough so he could lean over her side and kiss her cheek from behind. "How's the water?"
    He asks as he then lightly brushes his hands over that towel to help dry her off some. "Think with the time of the year and heading North we might need to start dressing up a little more." Though it must be getting cold because he liked her walking around as she was.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Don't tempt me to suggest we head to the southern hemisphere instead," Natasha warned as she joined him. There were no protests as he helped start drying her body with those quick strokes of the towel over her skin.

"Did we buy clothes for cool weather?" Because to save her life, she was pretty sure everything she'd bought was for boating. Some slacks and shirts but mostly shorts and bathing suits.

"And you were right. You might want to make a note I said that cause it won't happen often," She added before finishing her original statement. "You were right that the water was far colder than I thought it would be."
Phobos has posed:
    As for him he was wearing shorts still and those canvas dock shoes. He had a t-shirt on but over that t-shirt was a windbreaker that at least gave some semblance of protection from the hint of a chill. "We have a few things,"
    He smiled, those pale hazel eyes meeting her gaze as he slipped his hand into hers and walked with her back toward the salloon. The cork of the bottle that was sitting on the table was popped and he poured some vodka for her should she wish and added some to his orange juice which seemed to suit him just as well.
    "We could stop over in St. Helier? Do some shopping." He then slips onto the bench seat and holds his hand out for her to join him there, one leg lifted and knee bent to offer a place of comfort for her to sprawl should she wish.
    "Though if we do, and you pick a fight with the locals, you're the one fighting them."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Spasiba," she murmured as she accepted the glass.

She kept that towel wrapped around her then about leapt as he settled on the bench seat. Settling in against him, wrapping the towel a bit more like a sarong before she settled. Her back to his front, snuggling in. He might be getting a wet shirt from her hair but at least her suit wouldn't be in direct contact thanks to the terry material of the towel.

"I believe the word is 'try' to pick a fight. You were very uncooperative," she said with a little pout. Though she did give a nod to answer his question. "I think we should stop. I didn't buy a jacket. So want to at least get one of those."
Phobos has posed:
    "Alright, I'll signal ahead and get us a berth." Alexander says as he smiles and pulls her into that comforting hug, slipping his strong arms around her shoulders and putting some of that higher temperature Olympian physiology to work. Then he leans back and as easy as that... it's perfect. She's comfortably held, his broad chest slowly rising and lowering with his steady breath, the heat of his nearness a lovely thing.
    "Though will take us a few hours to get there, if we take our time maybe even in the morning. Unless you'd like to get dinner, then we can maybe hustle a little." His eyes lift up to the sky, and there are some clouds to their South that should perhaps urge them on, still no way to be sure entirely.
    Then his gaze distance as he looks off to the horizon over her shoulder, leaning forward enough to rest his chin there as he murmurs. "If you're feeling your oats we could always rent a place with a gym for a few days, get it out of your system." Since, to be fair, it had been a good while since they had trained or sparred even. Let alone knocked someone out.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Her happy place. It was strange to think of it that way. She had never really thought she would have one of those. Natasha had relationships in the past but she had often sabotaged them herself in an unconscious attempt to protect herself. As she knew she barely aged, anyone she was with would inevitably be lost through time.

Then there was Alexander. And all those fears had no place. It had it's bumpy spots but in the end, she'd found her happiness and embraced all that it could entail for the present and the future.

At mention on the trip and it taking a little longer, that got a shrug. Because she was no longer worried about rushing back. No longer concerned about what it would be when they got to New York. It was just this time with him on the yacht.

At the last though, he would feel as well as hear the little chuckle from her. "Am I /that/ obvious?" she teased, glancing over her shoulder at him. "I feel like I'm getting rusty with all this leisure. I think that would be a fun idea. Just find a place, rent out the gym. We can stay there during the day and spar, workout, whatever we want really. Sleep on the boat at night unless you are craving a hotel."
Phobos has posed:
    A small laugh comes from him, rumbling through his chest and jostling her slightly with those small waves of humor. He squeezes his arms around her and says gently, "I can tell you've got some tension," He leans in and lightly kisses the curve of her ear then adds, "When you were stretching this morning and I was walking by, I could see your half-smile. You were totally smirking and thinking about kicking me in the side of the head as I walked by."
    Which has him nodding knowingly, "I feel guilty too, though. Like I'm playing too much hookie and gonna get all fat like my dad."
    Though that might be a bit of a misrepresentation since John Aaron was not fat. Larger than his son, sure. Taller. Stronger. More muscular. Perhaps a /small/ very small hint of a belly. But that just was his combat weight assuredly.
    Though Alex likely never let him live it down.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"That is not a word I ever had thought to apply to your father."

Natasha had met Alexander Aaron decades before. And then a few decades later. Until the last few years when it had become more a friendship as opposed to random encounters every 20 years. The man was a giant. But fat didn't fit his physiology. At least to Natasha's mind.

But she does smirk a little bit. "I'll have to ask him if he's gained weight next time I see him." Despite the fact he could smite her--literally. Like a bug.

A little sip of vodka. "I think you have learned to read me too well. I did consider kicking you in the head this morning."
Phobos has posed:
    A little rumbly laugh again but he tightens his embrace to hold her through it so she doesn't spill her drink. Shaking his head, however, he does leeeean to the side to grab his screwdriver and take a sip while he murmurs, "It is usually keyed when you have your evil smile. It's rare, I don't think you show it around other people. Only when we're alone. But you get this little..."
    He leans to the side and around her so they can meet eye to eye if she turns her head, his smile a warm thing, amused. "Right there," He lifts a fingertip to point out that small curve, "And your eyes dance and I can tell that you're up to something. Usually it's violence." Because he does know her rather well.
    Another small kiss is given to her shoulder, "If I could only have one picture of you to keep forever, it would be of you smiling at me like that."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"I've developed a tell. I need to fix that immediately," Natasha mutters as though it is the end of the world. Which is ruined by an immediate laugh as she turned slightly to give him a half hug. Then settling back as she was, back to his front and she already feels nice and comfy from that advanced bodyheat of his Olympian physiology.

"So you want to commission a painting of me like the Mona Lisa." Then she considered. "I wonder if that's what she was thinking about..."
Phobos has posed:
    Another chuckle as he tells her, "Kicking someone in the head, most likely." A nod is given slowly as he adds, "Few people know she was one of the core warriors in a cadre of Italian Ninja." Which is completely a real thing assuredly.
    "Although..." He sits up a little, raising his knee to better hold her in his lap and lock her in there as the boat continues to gently sway at anchor, the waves lightly lapping at the sides of the ship.
    "Might be a good idea to... I don't know, have some keepsakes commissioned from someone."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
If Italian Ninja were not a thing, they really needed to be. As that brought all sorts of humourous images to mind. The combination of stealth and the stereotypical Italian temper in an angry rant made her smile.

Another sip of her vodka then Natasha nods. They had photoes and things, of course. But nothing beyond shots taken on their phones. "We can do that. Get some professional images done. Or an actual painting, as unusual as that is in this day and age."
Phobos has posed:
    The demi-god's smile slips toward a smirk as he suggests, "Clothing optional?" He nuzzles his nose in her hair and she can likely feel the grin as he steals another small kiss before he then just eeeeases more into the benchseat, letting them recline there as the wind drifts by, picking up subtly while the ship continues to rock.
    "I still have that small widow insignia you gave me ages ago, though I don't take it on missions." He looks across the way, then back toward her, "Always worried I'll lose it."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Automatically she adjusts with him but Natasha shakes her head. "I would prefer to be clothed if we have some stranger painting us. I'm not French nor is this the Tita--" She stopped herself. They were on a boat. About to take a trans-Atlantic trip. Better not to tempt the Fates.

They were real and they were bitches.

"Not a movie about it, that is." Nice recovery!

She smiled when he mentioned still having that insignia. "Well, I am glad you don't. Too much stuff happens. Too much crazy and it could be lost. And if lost, not only would you be in trouble with me but with SHIELD too for leaving a clue behind."
Phobos has posed:
    "I dunno," Alex says as he considers the thought, his own gaze distancing as he just enjoys the nearness of them being together. "If it was tasteful, or an artist we trusted? Or something that suggested it maybe. "We'll see."
    And as he says that he kisses her cheek, "C'mon, I'll get the ship underway and maybe we can have dinner at the hotel."