15977/Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow
Date of Scene:	17 January 2024
Location:	Converted Safehouse, Brooklyn
Synopsis:	Alexander is off on a trip across the pond. Packing is completed and goodbyes are said. Or more Seeya Later.
Cast of Characters:	Phobos, Black Widow (Romanoff)

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Phobos has posed:
    The black luggage case sat open on the bed, its gaping maw open and looking like an accusing face of some sort of plastic and metal automaton. It lay wide with a few pieces of clothes tossed into it, part of a shirt hanging out of the bottom lip looking almost like a black tongue lolling out the face of a corpse. Above this accusing face stood Alexander, hands upon his hips, his head tilted to the side, brow knit with a hint of confusion.
    To the side he walked, pulling open the sliding drawer from its chest against the wall as he leaned over it, digging around with some thoughtfulness. Over his shoulder he called out, letting his voice carry through the house. Likely a little louder than he needed to, but that came about because he had no idea where Natasha was at the moment.
    "It's only for like a single actual day day, one day, really. Right? Or should I plan for several?"
    A young agent, and with a heritage and training for tactical operations, he was a giifted soul. His training and knowledge was extensive, but as their time passed together, the Black Widow was able to learn more and more about her young paramour. Such as there were at points gaps in his knowledge.
    And today she learned that he had never taken an actual normal trip. On an airplane. Going through an airport.
    "How likely is it they'll divert us or whatever?"

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Always plan for one extra day," came the voice of Natasha from the hallway outside the room. It gained in volume as she spoke, indicating she was getting closer. This was proven as she stepped into the doorway, pausing to get a look at the goings-on. "That way, if the flight is cancelled for weather, mechanical problems, terrorism or just plain stupid people wanting to be social media famous, you'll have it built in and won't be in the same outfit for 48 hours. Hopefully."

She moved to the bed, looking at what was already inside the suitcase. Then she settled on the bed next to the bag, tucking up her sock-covered feet beneath her legs. She was wearing yoga pants and a tank top with a cardigan thrown over the top of that and worn open. She was going to have to rely on winter clothing for a day or three since her Olympian heater wouldn't be in the house. She could turn the heat up more but that was unnecessary when layers worked just as well.

"Plus that leaves room in your suitcase for any souvenirs you might opt to get while over there." Not that she expected him to get any. Unless he found a fun t-shirt. That might happen. She tucked her hands in the pockets of the sweater and pulled it a little more tightly around herself that way.

"You been to London at all before? I can't remember if SHIELD ever sent you."

Phobos has posed:
    "I've been lots of places just usually..." Alex gestures a little with a flurry of fingers, "Just not through... normal channels." Since his father had a tendency to tear open the fabric of reality when he needed to get somewhere. A trick Alexander had not picked up yet. If he ever could. He rests his hands on his hips as he looks.
    "But yes, I've been to London. Once." He says askance toward her, smiling a little as she crawls onto the bed. There's a brief moment when he gives her a second glance and she can see his lip curl up ever so slightly, that hint of a twist that speaks of a playful touch of wickedness. That slight twinkle in the eye that might remind one of a particular Joey asking how she might be doing.
    But then he shakes his head and walks back over to the chest of drawers. "Should pack a few things in case of business. One casual thing I guess." He starts to pull out a few bits of clothes for that casual ensemble, then it's over to the closet for the more appropriate business attire.
    "I suppose it would be a waste of taxpayer dollars to ask to take a Quinjet." Which it would be considering his presentation to MI-6 was not what one could call time sensitive, nor an emergency.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Or follow my philosophy of better to ask forgiveness than permission," Natasha quipped back. She had caught that look but didn't say anything nor did she feed into it. Because really, she wasn't quite sure what caused it. Her hair was a mess, she wasn't exactly looking her best in her casual clothes. Hell, she looked downright normal. Which, in truth, she was. If one ignored what she did for a living and how she got the skills to do it.

Then she chuckled. "Who am I kidding. I don't ask for forgiveness after either." That smirk he knew so well was on her face. "But I don't think you can get away with as much as I can, at this point. So yes, waste of taxpayer dollars. We could waste your father's instead if you preferred? Rent a private jet?"

Phobos has posed:
    "No..." She can tell the way he says that word, how it lingers that he's thinking about it. But then he repeats it, "No. Nah.' Which she can tell is when he makes his mind up. "He's already a bit squirrelly after our little voyage across the Atlantic. I feel like he's just waiting for an excuse to hassle me about something."
    Just because they had spent 8 million on a yacht...
    He chews the inside of his cheek as he gathers his clothes up and then leans over the luggage to start folding and setting things aright on the inside, placing each piece of clothing for optimal storage. Then he looks to the side across the way toward where some of his SHIELD gear rests near the dresser. "Should I take my sidearm or would that be more of a hassle?" Though he should know better than to ask her that since he's seen Natasha pull weaponry from the most innocent of locations at all times. "I mean... I know I should, my instinct is I should. But I don't want to cause problems for SHIELD if there's some weirdness with them and MI-6." Which it might not be entirely clear why he might imagine there would be, but he doesn't elaborate.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"You could but get SHIELD to send over the proper paperwork before you try it or I'll be having to come bail you out. We do have special permission on flights but only with that documentation. Only takes a phone call over to Jessica." And agent that handled most of the travel arrangements for agents assigned to the Triskelion. The regular travel, not tactical team things which were an entirely other branch. They were nothing if not complicated with bureaucracy and red tape.

"MI-6 generally hasn't had an issue that I've encountered. Or maybe they were more afraid of taking my gun away if I didn't want to give it up. Hmmm." One of those questionable things she had to wonder about now.

She eyed what he was putting in the bag. "Casual, business casual, formal just in case though unlikely but they love their parties over there. Should be more than enough."

Phobos has posed:
    His thoughts had fallen along those lines she would notice, choosing those proper suits and attire. He then, on a whim, tosses his Mew-Tiny t-shirt into it as he strolls on by while moving to the bathroom. She can hear him fiddling around in there, gathering some of his things into a 'travel' pack before he reemerges with a black bag holding it. Into the luggage it goes.
    "Anything I should know in your opinion?" He walks over and stands in the middle of the room, hands on his hips as he looks the place over, then looks back to her with a quirked eyebrow. "If I'm approached by a lot of hairy hirsute men with thick Arabic accents I should immediately follow them wherever they wish to take me and give them all my money?"

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Yes, just like you should always send money to Nigerian princes in emails," Naasha replied as she looked at the Mew-Tiny shirt with a little bit of a smile. That was one of their earliest finds when this place had been nothing but a safehouse full of boxes. Each box had held a variety of suprises that might be useful to someone expecting the worst to happen. Some might call them preppers. Natasha preferred Realists. Because in her experience, these places were invaluable.

Until they'd turned it into a home. Furniture, appliances, all the things one might need. They even had a barbeque in the backyard, for use in the summer. A far cry from it's origin. Or perhaps more back to the origin instead of just collecting dust.

"They sometimes have a very dry sense of humor but if you've watched enough BBC, you're probably prepared for that. Nothing really outside that."

Phobos has posed:
    "Alright then." He nods and when she glanced at the mew-tiny t-shirt he smiled a little. "It reminds me of you." Then he nudged her with his hip as he walked past her. "You should wash it sometime, super gross."
    But then he's got the last of his gear, tossing a bit of it into the suitcase and closing it up with a double click of the locks. He hefts it and then scoops up his ubiquitous backpack and carries them over toward the door. Over his shoulder he calls out to her, "So going to spend the whole time sobbing into your pillow while I'm gone?" She hears him set the luggage down, a faint fwumpf of the backpack being put down as well. "Weep, gnash your teeth, rend your hair?"
    Then he appears back in the doorway leaning against it. "Or you going to go down to Clancy's bar and pick a fight with that guy that annoyed you that one time?"

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Gee, not really sure. That hair rending and teeth gnashing sounds so fun, I may have to go with that instead of starting brawls at the bar."

She smiled as she slid to the edge of the bed, lowering her feet to the floor then rising up to stand. "I work both days so should be keeping busy. Otherwise, just working out most likely. Since you won't be here to interrupt me constantly." He did nothing of the sort.

Then she got a contemplative look. "Or I could steal a quinjet, follow you, and stalk you while you are there. Make sure you are behaving and see if you manage to spot me at any point. I'd be surprised if you did but it's possible I suppose..."

Phobos has posed:
    "Oh you cruel harpy of a woman," Alexander says with a tone of voice that speaks entirely more of love than displeasure. He shakes his head and looks toward the door, then back to her as she draws close. "Now I'm going to be spending the entire trip looking over my shoulder..."
    A beat as he pauses after saying that, then adds, "Well, more often than normal, at least." As she draws close he slips his arms around her waist and says, "You going to be okay while I'm gone?"
    Which was a silly thing to ask, more perhaps for him than for her. Since Natasha is always okay.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Automatically, she slipped her arms around his torso, closing any gap that might be between then to hug him tightly. "I'll be okay." Because she was Natasha and she was always okay. But that didn't change what she said next.

"I am going to miss you. Last time you went to Europe without me..." And she left it at that as she dropped her gaze. And for one of the few times he got that sensation from her. He could feel the trickle of fear in her that she might lose him as she almost had that time. But then she looked back up to him with a smile, masking it perfectly. If her life-partner wasn't the God of Fear. No one else would ever have known she had that concern hidden behind her perfect mask.

"Promise you'll be careful, even though I know it's a non tactical mission."

Phobos has posed:
    The only answer to that question was a gentle kiss shared. Though she knew that whatever she asked... it was hers.