16005/Littlest Widow Loose in the City!

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Littlest Widow Loose in the City!
Date of Scene: 27 January 2024
Location: Lower Manhattan, Manhattan
Synopsis: Young Natalia is loose in the city. She slips her handler but then she returns after learning details that bring everything into question for her.
Cast of Characters: Phobos, Black Widow (Romanoff)




Phobos has posed:
    This was not the New York she was familiar with.
    The towering skyscrapers stood stern sentinel above the city, the large billboards and moving images of advertisements on gigantic screens, the rush of many people yet so many more than she had seen before. Too many people. But all of those things at once came together in the moment they stepped up and out of the stairway leading out of the subway.
    And her escort walked with her quietly, not intending to step on her moment. He let her absorb that instant of realization without intruding. After the 72 hours had passed and they agreed to let her partially loose so long as he was with her, they tried to give her the realization that they weren't planning any deception. She was let free, allowed to go where she liked, just to make sure she didn't think they wre running a scam.
    And here was the result of that freedom. A view of Times Square.
    As for Agent Aaron he had changed into civilian clothes. Apparently the uniform of a man in the West had changed from suit, tie and hat into... those things called blue jeans, a t-shirt, sneakers. At least the brown leather jacket she recognized. The bomber crews in the USAAF wore those.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
She had her own blue jeans. Levis at that. Because that is what she asked for. Not that they were fashionable in current day but that is the name that everyone in the USSR knew for the denim trousers that Americans took for granted. The shirt was non-descript. A cotton t-shirt in simple black. Boots. A jacket because it was chilly out there.

When they first exited the Triskelion, she had taken in the isle where they were located, evaluated how one would attack and decided they had made a sound choose for a base. But then the city itself had her full attention. They had walked across the bridge into New York proper and she had chosen a direction. If she walked long enough in a single direction, there would be a wall. If this was fake.

So many cars! Very different from the cars of her time with their curves and swoops in their designs. She had no idea what most of them were. The engines sounded different. And the people! They were everywhere. On the sidewalks and in vehicles. The yellow ones were prominent here and she knew those as taxis even from her day. Yet, not the same.

Even the buildings. The signs. It was all loud and bright and frantic. When they finally got to Times Square, she just froze there. Turning as she remembered all the images she had studied, set in her recall should she be sent here on an assignment. But this wasn't that at all. Not even close.

The roads were mainly the same but the buildings and the flashing signs that were like moving pictures but not. She knew of televisions and they were new. But again, nothing like this as those were black and white. Moving pictures did have color at least, but not television.

The mask was gone as she turned and looked at everything, obviously overwhelmed as she stared at everything then looked at him as though to see if he was seeing what she did. Why wasn't he awed by it? Impressed?

This was /normal/ to him. And to everyone around them. But to Natalia, she was on a new planet. "I..."

A pause as she tried to find words then looked to him with obvious confusion. "This isn't a test. Nor a simulation. This is real. And...2032?"
Phobos has posed:
    His lips parted as he was about to say something, but then he furrows his brow and looks around. In these days there weren't a lot of periodicals being sold. There were plenty of stores on the sidewalks and streets, food trucks and souvenir carts mainly. But luckily they had come to Times Square where one of the few remaining news stands remain. He walked over to it and leaned over past a few of the people who were reading while standing around.
    The New York Post was picked up from a stack of newspapers and he turned it toward her, showing the date on the masthead. Then glanced over at several of the other periodicals. But he let her do her own exploration.
    "It's a real thing." A pause with a hint of a smile, but he nods. "It's been a few hours since you had breakfast, are you hungry?"
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
She trailed with him over to that actual newsstand where he pointed out the date to her on it. A little shake of her head still in disbelief but then he would realizing she was staring at the magazine covers. For the covers in this day and age were a far cry from in her time. "Is that ...woman naked?" It was one of those fashionable artistic images where all the important bits were covered but for Natalia, that was a shocker.

And she was looking around to see if this was one of /those/ kinds of places selling /that/ kind of magazine but no. It seemed to be a regular place. There were all manner of things and actual newspapers but what was on the front of some of those glossy covers would not see the light of day in her time. And here it was just out for everyone to see!

She quickly turned away from the stand and nodded to his question. "I'm starving." She was a fifteen year old girl after all. They were always hungry. And in her time, they weren't worried that a boy might know they ate more than a bird. She looked around at the various businesses and stands, trying to even make sense of it all. He was going to have to lead the way on this one. "You have any suggestions?"
Phobos has posed:
    "Hot dog?" He says in the way of said suggestion, an eyebrow quirks at her curiously. He tried not to give too much of a... companionable vibe. He was there in the role of her minder, of her chaperone in essence. So he strove to keep his features clear, not to smile too much nor too easily. This was her time and he was just there in case... well in case she decided to kill someone.
    "Or pizza. Not very healthy but figure you'll enjoy those more than other things." He lifts his chin and gives a nod in the direction of a food truck that's settled in its place across the street. Around it it seems to be doing a brisk business providing some of those staples that New Yorkers favor.
    He starts to walk in that direction, checking the cross street before starting to jay walk between a pair of parked cars. He asks her as he moves, "Is there anything in particular you want to see while we're out and about?"
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Hot dog. That is very American." Even though she was being sure to speak English in a New York accent, this was literally her first time in the United States. Or anywhere that wasn't the USSR. She hadn't even graduated from the Red Room yet.

But even she knew about Levis and hot dogs and...

"Baseball! I want to see baseball game." She realized her gaff and fixed it immediately. "A baseball game." English added so many extra words that just were not needed.

"And Broadway! I want to see Gene Kelly in a moving picture!" And in that instant, she was not this killer spy created in a base of horrors that were unimaginable to most people. She was a 15-year old kid. Who had never gotten to experience all these things that she had learned about, heard tales of. But they were not allowed in her country and especially in the Red Room. There was no room for fun or downtime. It was always training, even when they were not in a classroom or gym.

She threw her hands up in the air and did a little spin, a few little steps as she did so, just out of pure happiness as she smiled very brightly. Then she turned those green eyes on him, almost begging him to say yes to her requests.

For when would she ever have the chance again? When this was over, she was back in the Red Room.
Phobos has posed:
    "Hot dog it is then," Alexander says as he moves between the cars then gestures for her to follow him. Not that she needs his guidance too much so, but there's one thing about reading about New York and another thing about experiencing it. Once they get to the other street he tilts his head to the side and catches sight of that small twirl. His lip twists up but he looks away, gesturing with a nod toward the food truck.
    "Pick your toppings while I order," He motions with one hand to that small side dispensary table where they have an abundance of toppings, from chilis to noodles to cheeses to veggies. He gets in line, making sure to keep an eye on her while trying not to seem like he's doing so. Luckily not too many people were in line at this time of day.
    "Gene Kelly might be tough, maybe when we head back. If we head back." He corrects himself. "Baseball though is harder since they don't start for another few months. It's a Summer thing."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Natalia busied herself looking at all the condiments, making her picks and taking out some of the small plastic packages they were stored in. She did test open one since it was unfamiliar then quickly grabbed some paper napkins when she ended up with mustard on her fingers. The open pack was tossed with the now stained napkin but she picked out a few more. Ketchup, mustard, relish. Though the chili looked interesting. Perhaps she should try scooping some chili on it.

"I thought baseball was always here," she returned. She didn't say 'in America' because that would make it too obvious she wasn't from the country. Which would be at odd with the accent she was using. Instead, it just looked like she was a person who was clueless about sports. Much easier sell. Because it was true outside the basics.

At the mention of the lack of motion picture too, she wilted ever so slightly. "There is a new one picture show. Anchors Aweigh. Gene Kelly is an amazing dancer. Though I have only seen some bits and pieces of movies."
Phobos has posed:
    As she busies herself he moves up in the line, then holds up two fingers to signify the need for two of their footlong dogs. He turns back to her and says, "He's done a lot of things since then." Gently reminding her that the time of now is not the time of her now.
    "My favorite movie from then..." He says thoughtflly as he steps to the side as the server starts to deal with their order, "Were the Thin Man movies." He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket, though it was a loose light jacket despite the chill in the air. It was more a hoodie and in the two front pockets were where he kept his keyes, his wallet, and those curious mobile devices so many of the New Yorkers seem to have and seem to hold their attention entirely.
    "Oh. Holiday Inn... with Fred Astaire."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"This one I have seen! It was very good. Though he is not as attractive as Gene Kelly." And there it was. She was fifteen, after all. "Though they both seemed to be equal as dancers. So skilled, almost effortless. I wish to be like that someday." Nevermind she probably already was. She didn't see it that way at least. "I do think Bing Crosby's voice is unequaled. Though you are right. I am thinking of the past. Not present."

How many more movies had there been? In fact, what had music become? What had dance become? "Can we go somewhere to see modern dance styles?" she asked as they waited for their hotdogs to be passed over. Which once it was, it would get a wide eyed look from her at the sheer enormity of the American treat.
Phobos has posed:
    It was a hot dog, but unlike any hot dog she'd seen. For this one had been deep fried quickly so the exterior was crunchy and juicy. The buns were toasted and buttered and had their own selections of cooked onions and peppers in case they wished for those as toppings as well as a sharp tangy tomato and mustard amalgam sauce on the side. He extended one toward her as well as a bottle of Coca-Cola that had been brought up from South of the border. A decadent treat really, all told. Clearly a sign of the cultural deterioration and hedonism of the United States.
    But once they were partially clear from the food truck, Alexander leaned against the wall and started to eat his hot dog, just settling in there as the crowd continued to step past him. "There are a lot of places people go to dance though. Usually they're open at night and you're..." He scrunches up one eye as he looks away, "A bit young."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
She trailed along with him as she examined the hot dog critically, even taking a moment to sniff it. A piece of onion and pepper were grabbed with thumb and forefinger then popped into her mouth. There was a nod of approval then she settled next to him against that wall.

The first bite of the hot dog was a revelation. It wasn't that the hot dog was amazing but it was so different from what she expected with that crisped exterior. But it was the stuff on top that made it so good really. She didn't think she'd like it without all of the toppings. But it got the Mmmmm of approval as she chewed and swallowed. The bottle of coke had been set on the ground next to her for now so she'd have both hands available for eating without getting stuff all over her.

His words had her looking at him confused. "Young for what? Dancing? That does not make sense. Everyone can dance." It took a moment the she realized what he meant. "Ohhh places that do not let people under a certain age inside. Because there is some silly rule you must be of an age to drink." She sniffed and made sure no one was in ear shot before she added.

"If you try to keep them from drinking, they will just seek it out more. We are much more advanced and understand this in the Soviet Union."
Phobos has posed:
    "There might be something to that," He says, not negating her thoughts nor opinion, but then again not reinforcing the either. "It's more that most of the dancing in the city recreationally is done by people more my age and less yours. Unless it's a school dance." She can see himm looking up slightly and to the right, searching his thoughts briefly and giving her questions reflection. He's not dismissing them, more trying to answer her with a good amount of sincerity.
    "There is..." He reaches into his pocket and withdraws his cellphone from it, swiping it to life with the brush of one thumb. She'll see him bring up that tiny keyboard and type a few things into it. His eyebrows rise slightly. "There are some plays. Musicals where there's dancing." He scrolls past, "Aladdin. A Beautiful Noise... Juliet." He stops there but scrolls past a few others. Perhaps becaues they are a little more... adult.
    "Or if you wish there are..." He furrows his brow then says, "Well, portable... devices. You could see on here. But it's less enjoyable to view video files through this small of a display." He shows her the phone's screen then as if in explanation.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Natalia continued to eat as she watched him bring that phone to life and start typing on the tiny keyboard that was attached to it. She had seen most everyone on the street had one. They stared at them almost exclusively, instead of the people around them. Except a few people who were with friends and they still had them out, holding them up in the air and making faces at them. It was very confuswing.

Others had been talking into them adn she suspected they were communication devices. Like a telephone but without a cord. Which was amazing. Now he was showing her things on the screen and she leaned over to peer at them curiously. Then she reached for it, asking a quick, "May I?"

And if he gave it up, she would soon be scrolling through a list on whatever music app he used, eyeing the titles and the names of the artists. Not surpriswingly, she had no idea who any of them were. Nor what kind of music they might be. "Is this mostly jazz? Or swing perhaps? Or are there new music styles too? I mean, in that many decades, I would hope there are. Music doesn't just stagnate after all, it is always evolving."
Phobos has posed:
    There was an ever so slight hesitation as those pale hazel eyes shifted back to her. One of the rare times he looked directly at her. Perhaps knowing how disconcerting his gaze can be at such times. But then he seems to decide to hand the phone over to her, letting her take it up. After a moment that small smile settles upon his features, doing what it does to ease his mien.
    "There is too much to relate, we could sit here and talk for hours and only scratch the surface.." He lifts a hand, starting to motion toward something. But then he pauses and says, "And remember. Might... be a good idea not to dive too much into the... abundance of information."
    He'd said that before. Or something similar, and she knew why. Preserving the flow of history. Yet he did seem to wage a small battle with himself at times, likely arguing with his own position.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"I promise not to steal songs and become a big movie star who sings things that I know will be popular." And she brought up her free hand, grinning at him. "Cross my heart." Which she did with her finger across the front of her long-sleeved t-shirt they had managed to find for her.

Then she was staring into the phone again as she tapped on one of the songs. This one had a video.

And boy did she regret that choice.

"Oh! Oh uhm.." She found the off button and stopped the video. "That is...very different. The women were..." She made a little face and looked back at him. "I have seen dancers wearing leotards. That is normal. but they do not move in that way. That was kind of...obscene." And it was nothing more than a normal pop video with women dancing in a more sexual way.

She quickly began scrolling again. "Can you search for things? Like can I find things from...1945?" She almost said her time but again was aware people were around. She quickly bent to grab her drink then showed him the screen again, to see if he could lead her through it. Then she dropped the drink. And picked it back up again. "Sorry."
Phobos has posed:
    Leading her through how to web browse was perhaps a bridge too far as he hesitated a bit, starting to take the phone back from her when she motioned toward him with it. But then she seemed to fumble the drink and in that brief moment, that small window of opportunity some of her acting paid off.
    For his instinct as she dropped the bottle was for his own reflexes to quickly react reaching for the drink as it started to tumble, having him lean forward a little bit with his weight shifted forward.
    And in that moment he was already mentally kicking himself.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
The sorry wasn't for dropping the drink. It was an actual apology for what she did when he gave him that opportunity. For he had brought himself perfectly in range. The bottle was released and she immediately brought one hand to the back of his head to hold it in place even as she brought her knee up full force to try and slam it into his nose. The other hand grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking it up and foward even as she brought up her leg for a front kick. Which would, if connecting, would hopefully push him further away or knock him over while pulling that jacket over his head. Either to leave there to foul him up or to come off completely if he kept falling, in which case it would be in her possession. And a jacket in a Widow's hands was a weapon.

Though that was not her intention. Her intention was to turn and run. She had been paying attention to the crowds, the traffic. She had some points of exit chosen and she was going to make her way for one with the intention of losing him in the crowds, even by going through some of the businesses in the area to do so.

Of course, that all depended on if this little ploy had worked at all.
Phobos has posed:
    It was a sudden burst of motion, and to the people around it looked like a stumble, a shift. And then suddenly the young man was hurtling back into the mouth of the alleyway, his hoodie pulled over his head as he staggered and fell heavily onto his back, rolling with the movemment as he hit the ground and that bottle shattered as it was knocked away in the scuffle.
    People around them just had the moment to glance at her before she was already running, breaking into a foot race into the crowd, knowing every moment could be precious. She moved effortlessly into the flow of the crowd even as behind her Alexander was half-leaning against the wall, wiping his bloody nose with one forearm and scowling at himself as he pulled off his torn jacket and tied it quickly around his waist. Sidelong to the sub-dermal communicator he sub-vocalizes the update.
    << She's doing a runner. In pursuit. >>
    Which likely set off a few warning signs lights at the Triskelion.
    Though Natasha had a good thirty seconds of time beating feet. No sign of him behind her. Not yet at least.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
There was no slowing, no stopping. She didn't get his jacket with his wallet, so she didn't get money or credit cards. But she did have his telephone which she now knew could search for information so that would be helpful once she ditched him entirely. She had crossed the street immediately, avoiding the cars with minimal honking and swearing sent her direction.

The store with the phone devices was full of people. Just as the sidewalk outside was. She was petite and she quickly moved through people without ever touching them then ducked into that business. T-Mobile was on the sign. Only, she didn't stop there. She quickly continued through the store and, just as an employee was coming out of the secure back room onto the salesfloor, she slammed past him and into the back room. Even as the employees were yelling and a few moving to intercept her, it was far too late for them to have a chance. Through the back room to quickly find an exit out the back. Where she ended up in a hallway that actually connected to other stores in the group but further down there was a door to the outside. She took it, darting out onto the small alleyway then heading for a door across the way. Only it was locked of course. She ran the opposite direction from where she had left Alexander by that alleyway. The next corner, she ducked into a restaurant. Another quick dash, back into the kitchen, out the back.
Phobos has posed:
    She had no visibility into him or what measures he was taking. She was doing a good job of changing venues, breaking into a business, through it, moving on. It created activity on multiple fronts that could or would be noted. But it also created obstacles if he was going to follow in her path because all of the people in her wake were on a higher alert, and not likely willing to tolerate some guy running after her and through their kitchen all over again.
    She didn't have time to seek him out, or take up a position to watch as he pursued. Which was good. Since she likely wouldn't have seen him as he wasn't pursuing her directly. Instead he was moving parallel, staying on the sidewalk, moving around those buildings, sticking to the street and the occasional alleyway. He kept his pace quick, steady, rapid. But not enough to draw the attention of passersby too quickly. She was a rapid tornado of activity. Alexander was more just a man at haste, but nothing New York doesn't see every day.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
The businesses didn't even bother calling in to 911 since she didn't actually do anything. Nothing was stolen. It was just a New York moment and it was over. They would have something to talk about in their down time between dealing with customers but for now, there was quite the buzz in each of the businesses.

Natalia made her way over to the next block, further from where they had been, yet again moving away from their original location. Here she found a fancy clothing store. This time, her entry was far more calm. She began to browse and peruse the shelves as though she hadn't a care in the world. When a woman got close to her, her purse partially open, Natalia helped herself to the wallet within. Then she made her way to try on some clothes.

Less than five minutes later, she was heading out of the store in a new outfit, her old clothes in a bag. Gone were the jeans and in their place was a pair of black leather pants. They were warm and functional. The top was a nice ecru cableknit sweater. A light blazer over that. Her hair had been slicked back and was wet, more plastered to her head and thus not looking the same red as it had been. And from there, she began to simply walk with the crowd. The first trash can she passed, she dropped the bag with her old clothes in. In case they had a tracker of some kind in them. She hadn't found one but this was also not a time she knew so they might have different ones than she might recognize so better to be rid of it entirely.

Then she pulled out that phone and swiped it to the life again, following the way Alexander had done it. Allowing her to start browsing. Though there was a picture of a camera on the screen and that caught her attention. Is that why people would hold them up and make faces into them with their lips all pursed up like a duck? Did they just have a camera in their pocket along with a thing to search for information /and/ a phone? That was some amazing technology!
Phobos has posed:
    She was left alone, perhaps long enough to be able to get the feeling that she had escaped for the moment, given him the slip. Around her as she walked through the city nobody seemed to care, no signs of pursuit, no sirens. Perhaps it was yet another symbol of the slip-shod degenerate West and how it had fallen so low. Best not to take the risk, however.
    For Alexander he didn't let up the pace, though he made sure to keep at least a block between them and never direct line of sight. The small heads up display on the AR contacts he was wearing gave him a small overlay of imagery that gave him a hint of the outline as to where she was, what she was doing. Triskelion Actual hadn't reported any incidents on local law enforcement in the area so at least she didn't explode into violence for whatever reason.
    For now he intended to shadow her, give some time, not immediately find her since to do so might give away that they had ways of tracking her. But she was damned clever and might be able to deduce ways people of this advanced society might be keeping eyes on.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
She paused in her movements, glancing up and around a moment as though trying to get her bearings. Which was actually valid. For she had a destination in mind and she turned to continue that direction. It was one she knew by memory so no need to use the fancy telephone to find it.

Though she was looking at the phone for other things. Tapping apps to open then closing them. Having looked at google since he showed her how and she was looking for the nearest way to get out of town. Could take a taxi. Catch a subway. Airport was out as she didn't have a passport. Though she could fly up to the Canadian border and cross then get in contact with her people back in the Red Room for extraction. That seemed a good plan.

Natalia smirked slightly as she turned then stopped at Rockerfeller Center, looking at the skating rink as she found a spot to stand where she could see the goings on. Then she clicked that little camera picture.

It showed her a view wherever she was pointing it, which was fun. But she didn't want a picture of stuff away from her. It took a moment to figure out how to put it in selfie mode. Then she took her first. A picture of her smirking with the skating rink in the background. It was post Christmas so no fancy tree but it was still a memento. Though, when she ditched the phone, perhaps they would recover it and give it back to Agent Aaron. That would be amusing honestly. And thus she decided she would start taking a series of images. Even as she turned in the direction of the Empire State Building. Sadly no time to ice skate since she didn't know how long before they might find her.

But as she lowered the phone after her self portrait, she saw that the picture showed in a little circle down near the bottom. She clicked and it enlarged to let her see it full screen. That made her smile as she strolled. Then she pushed the arrow at the top to take her back to the camera screen only it took her to a bunch of little pictures. Pictures he had taken apparently. She started to scroll through them.

Then froze.
Phobos has posed:
    The phone had so little to it if she had a frame of comparison. It had the default wallpaper, no fancy icons, very few applications beyond the norm. It was bare bones save for some of the data she might be uncovering. The icons on the surface layer of the phone had few interesting ones. But within the depths and in the file system when she searched through the camera app she started to come upon other pictures that were taken.
    And some of her.
    No, not her. But the her of who she would be. The woman she would become. It is one thing to see yourself becoming who you are to be over that slow crawl of time. Those small changes that become accepted, the shifts of face and body. It must be a shock when she sees herself. But older. Though not so old if these were at all recent. She looked like a woman in her 30s. It is always hard to be honest with oneself, but if she was able to be she'd see that this version of herself was stunning. She had a mysterious smile as she glanced over her shoulder. It was a picture taken on the streets of New York but at night time. And she was wearing a beautiful black dress with a man's jacket over her shoulders. There was a hint of a chill in the air as she could see hints of old snow in the background.
    A drift of her thumb and she'd see another image. Herself in a kimono, kneeling at a table, eyebrow quirked upward as if feigning an annoyed look at whomever was taking the picture.
    Then there was another of her in a red bikini on some sort of sailing vessel. Scandalous!
    But then there the one after. A selfie, though this time she was joined with the owner of the phone. Both of them looking up at it and smiling as he held his arm out, his arm around the future version of her, and she was... holding onto him with a brightness in her eyes.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Her. Her as she would be someday. And this was 80 years later. Yet, she still looked to be in her 30s. Perhaps these were old pictures? Yet, the one with him in it showed that they were not for he looked the way he did now. Which meant that she looked this way current year.

She found a bench where one could sit to wait for a bus and settled there. Though she had been trained to roll with the punches, go with anything the world threw at her, this was not something she'd imagined.

This brought it all crashing down around her as she stared at herself in that picture with him. They were close. Not work together close. One didn't take pictures of someone in their underwear on a boat if they worked together. Since she had no concept what a bikini was, that's what it seemed to her. One didn't have their arms around each other in the selfie, with that glow about them showing the depth of emotion they felt for one another.

She was in a relationship with him. Her future self was, at least. She tapped a button and it showed the date and time the image was taken. Current year for some. Others older. She scrolled through and they went back a few years it seemed. They were together. For years.

That explained the oddity in his behavior. The way he would act like something was familiar then hide it. Because he was trying not to reveal the future to her. She shook her head as she stared into the green eyes of her counterpart then the pale hazel of the man at her side. They weren't so odd when he was smiling.

Rising to her feet, she started back the way she had come from. Still going through the images now, taking her time doing so. She had a few blocks to walk and time but her intention was to go back to where she had ditched him.
Phobos has posed:
    As she examined the photos she could pick out those strange differences. It was her, but not her. The short hair, shorter than a boy's, though that wasn't unknown in Russia for times of strife women in that country would cut their hair short. Yet the woman in those photos was honed, even beyond what she expected to see from the serum. Not overly so, but as defined as a prima ballerina.
    She went through a few more photos, some images. There was a streak of them where she could be seen wearing an elaborate and flowy pastels colored dress, some sort of costume. Though in one of the photos she's holding a hand out as if demanding the phone...
    Which was when it apparently was turned on the owner and she saw him standing there with a crested helmet hanging off the back of his neck and a red cloak around his broad shoulders. He was bare of chest though the lighting wasn't perfect, but she could tell it was some sort of Greek costume and he looked like he was smirking but his eyes were a touch wide as if giving her a hard time as well.
    Though entirely too soon she was past those photos, the datemark what... 3 years ago from the date he told her. But then with the next swipe she was into the videos.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
That one got a little bit more attention. He definitely had been hiding his physique in the clothes he wore. He was as toned as her future self. Perhaps he was a dancer too? Though the fact he was dressed in that Greek costume which was obviously based off a hoplite but showed a whole lot of skin, perhaps he was a fighter too. After all, he worked with her. Or was that just a line he fed her so that it wasn't obvious they were dating?

The pictures with the little play button on them made her pause, though her footsteps continued forward. She looked like everyone around her who were staring at their phones. But that little arrow button, the play, she had seen on the music. That meant it would start something. Perhaps it started music to go with the picture?

She pushed and was surprised to see it was moving pictures! On the tiny little telephone screen. And the first one seemed to be them at a restaurant, leaning together to take a picture even as she protested the silliness of it. She found herself stopping anew, just staring at her future self and him interacting. Even as the screen was lowered and their heads leaned in for what might be a kiss...but the video cut off before it happened.

Another was her dancing. She didn't seem aware of him or, if she was, wasn't paying him any mind. In a tiny top and a bottom, again like she had seen dancers wear before though they generally wore full body leotards when she trained so this was new. It showed her hard, strong physique. Was this from the serum? Or did she add to it as she worked out? Something she would learn in time.
Phobos has posed:
    Though at the end of the files there's one that seems to not be native to the phone, it had a different title with an ampersand in it that seemed to signify something but it was almost impossible to discern. But then when she tapped that small arrow and it came to life it became clear that it was a film made by someone else. Though it was still of them. Only the image that greeted her eyes was of a setting where it was... some kind of dance hall? A competition? The tall blond stood smiling at the short redhead. They said something to each other which made her laugh even as the crowd cheered a bit. There was some applause. Then the music kicked in, music unlike what she'd heard before. Strange sounds that had a hint of a siren or high pitch to it, then a steady beat keyed in which had the two of them beginning a dance together.
    And it was clear that he could dance. That they could dance. That they danced together and enjoyed it. So thoroughly as their eyes were alight and alive while someone sang in the background. She might have caught the chorus, 'It's like I waited my whole life for this one night...'
    And the chemistry between the two was palpable as they danced, back and forth, smiling, laughing. He spun her cleanly in a twirl, and she was so perfect as if dance was her first love. Even though at the end of that twirl she stuck her tongue out at him.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
It lookd sort of like swing. But there were none of the acrobatics that she expected from such a style. The footwork matched but it had obviously changed as time had passed into something more grounded. But the foot movement was there. The spins. The touch between the partners and the positions they held.

Yet the dance seemed so fun, so playful. It didn't seem choreographed but there was something about how they could read each other, feed off each other, pick up nuances to allow them to match from time to time. The movements at times illustrating the song lyrics, such as when they were going a certain direction, taking turns pointing to the side they were moving toward.

And there was such happiness. SHe watched it again. And again. Happiness she had no idea where it came from. SHe had never been that happy. If she did, it was just to play a role, not actually feeling the emotion. Yet, in this? With him? She was utterly thrilled and at ease with her life.

What happened? How did she become this? How did the Red Room allow it when there were to be no distractions for agents? Was she even with the Red Room now? Or was she doing something here in America?

She pulled up that search engine. Google he had called it. Then she started to type in her name but stopped after three letters. If she knew too much, she could break the world. She wasn't sure how valid that was but...

An X out of the search engine, a look at their paused faces in the video with her sticking her tongue out at him as though she hadn't a care in the world. Did she want to ruin the chance she would find happiness like that? Even if it lasted mere days, weeks, years.
Phobos has posed:
    Away from the young Russian woman and a block away, Alexander had been shadowing her a street over and a ways off behind her path of progression. At one point she had stopped and turned, then shfited her angle and started to head back, doubling back on her earlier path. Part of him frowned slightly, his thoughts drifting to the possibility that she was getting ready to set up an ambush if someone was following her. He didn't look forward to having to trip that if it came to it.
    But then she kept heading around and toward their point of origin when the 'chase' had begun. He maintained his distance, kept up with the flickering silhouette on his AR display. At times Triskelion Actual would key in with just a click to let him know they were still there and monitoring.
    He tapped a finger against his ear and it let them know he was as well. But for now he remained a shadow.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
She closed the search engine and pushed the button so the phone went to a black screen. Then she slipped it into the pocket of her jacket. No more looking. No more watching the images of them happy together. It was so strange for a 15-year old Natalia to see what would be in 80 years.

No wonder he had been so cagey when she had asked questions. He couldn't exactly tell her that they were together in this time. Especially when she was just a kid at the moment. That'd be just plain weird.

And when she reached that spot where she had attacked him, she looked over at the shattered bottle from her coke. A tiny frown and she moved about ten feet away. There she just leaned against the wall and waited. It wasn't like she could try to call him to tell him, since she had his phone. Calling the police seemed a bit extreme because what would she tell them? Hi, I'm a Sovet spy and I was in the custody of an agent who I attacked and escaped from but if you could send him back over to me, that would be great? Not likely.
Phobos has posed:
    It was when she seemed to halt, when her flight stagnated and she stayed in that position for three minutes. It signified to him that she was not seeking to flee. And that was perhaps the worst place she could go if she was trying to flee or lose attention. Except, perhaps, if she ran back to the Triskelion.
    So when she had stayed there, exactly there where she had tagged him so well... he decided to take that risk.
    A scuffed toe of his boot would give her the heads up that someone was coming from down that alleyway. A glance would be all she'd need to see him as he walked along. That hoodie was tied around his waist and his t-shirt... well it had a spatter of blood from where she had kneed him in the nose. But at least he wasn't bleeding anymore or right now, and it seemed like it didn't go totally out of control as his shirt wasn't too stained.
    He lifted his eyes and saw her, though he knew exactly where she was before he turned the corner. Those hazel eyes caught her gaze and in that moment she'd see the first time he let that smile drift free of his control. Because it transformed into a smirk and a slight shake of his head as if admonishing her and himself as well.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"You know I had to try," came her immediate response. Not defensive in tone, just sort of amused herself. Natalia shrugged.

She gave him a pointed look even as she pulled his phone out of her pocket. It was offered to him genuinely. No tricks. No trying anything if he took it. And if he opened the screen, he would find that paused video of them dancing. At that moment she had stuck her tongue out at him. There was such happiness on her face, reflected in her eyes, as she gave him that sassy moment during their dance together.

"Perhaps moreso than anyone. Although I suppose I have changed a lot between now and then." That smirk he knew so well appeared, twisting up the left corner of her mouth. "I do grow up to be beautiful. Even after so many years. Guess that serum really does stunt the aging process," she added, as though that was the big takeaway from the images of their life together.
Phobos has posed:
    His answer was a simple grunt followed by an, 'mmhmmm.' He shook his head and took his phone back. A brief glance at it was given, one eyebrow quirking slightly then he gave her a half-squint look as he still doesn't say anything. He takes a deep breath. Holds it, exhales it slowly.
    The phone is tucked away into the pocket of his jeans. He tilts his head to the side and he listens to her offer her insight about... herself. A slight 'heh' is heard. He rubs a hand along the curve of his ear as if adjusting his hair. Then he points at her and says, "You."
    A beat, then he adds. "Are a jerk."
    His eyes widen slightly as he says that, as if expecting her to protest and he reaffirms it with a few nods. But then he shakes his head and affirms her thoughts. "But yeah."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
That was a term that had come into use in the last decade so she knew it at least. Though she wasn't sure it applied to her. Until she looked at it from his point of view. Then Natalia just had to shrug and give a single nod. She apparently was indeed a jerk.

"It wasn't just a worry about changing the world because of the world. It was worrying that would change too, wasn't it? Because that's what stopped me. Knowing that ...even if it's just a short time, I'm happy."

She looked down at the toes of her new shoes, a pair of boots with no heel that looked good with the new pants. "I can understand that. I had no idea that it was even something that could be in my life. I figured I would die young considering what I do." Then glancing up at him again, openly curious. "Though apparently it'll take me a while to get there. And maybe there were times before this for me too, where there was happiness. That means there is hope."

A sad sort of smile. "Not a lot of hope in the Red Room."
Phobos has posed:
    As she says that he lowers his eyes, brow furrowing. She can see him still waging that internal struggle, not wanting to say too much, not wanting to be too open or to share. He lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck thoughtfully and then looked up at her with one eye slightly scrunched up. Another breath and he murmurs, "Alright..."
    A moment passes after he says that word after her last comment about the red room. He laughs a little and shakes his head, "Alright. Just... if you remember this all when you... if you go back? You need to try to... I don't know. Forget it. Or... not act on it. I have no idea how this will work."
    He smiles a little and suddenly it's as if he's... an entirely different person. That hint of tension is gone from him as he lets loose on the reins a little. He starts to walk then, out onto the sidewalk, along the street. But slowly, likely expecting her to keep pace with him.
    "So ask me what you would like to ask me. If... anything."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Can't be anything from my past just in case that will be changed by my actions, if I do retain memories when I get back. If I get back." And that gave Natalia pause. Would she mind if she didn't go back? She was free of the Red Room. Or...was she?

"Though I do need to ask. Are you part of the Red Room? Or the group that caught me? Or am I away from that? I'm not asking how or why or any of that stuff, if I even am. I just want to know if there is freedom from it in the future."

He would understand as, outside of people who had been there in the program themselves, he knew more than most anyone else. Since Natasha has shared it with him during their life together.
Phobos has posed:
    Alexander rubs the back of his neck thoughtfully as he meets her gaze, his manner a little more at ease as he glances down the alleyway, then back to her. He pushes away from the wall and nods to her, silenting signalling she should follow him. A few steps carry them onto the sidewalk where they start strolling along, slipping into the crowd. A small precaution since it's more difficult even with high tech for people to eavesdrop on a moving target in the flowing and changing soundscape of the crowd and high profile acoustics.
    Though it's not long as they walk that he begins speaking again. "I have nothing to do with your origin. There's a story about... what happened to you. I think... the main thing I can tell you is that you lived through a struggle. You became a person that was... very stern with herself, but also has realized who and what you are."
    He glances at her as they walk, then his brow furrows and he looks off into the distance. "I think for people reaching that point is rare. And finding people that can accept those aspects of you... even rarer still."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Nothing to do with her origin. Thus, he was not Red Room. Or Winter Soldier program either. That was both good and bad. Good because it meant she eventually was not part of the Red Room but that was also terrifying because it was all that she knew. What would she do if not the thing she had been trained for her entire life?

The rest of what he said was carefully phrased, not to give away too much. Yet, it was complimentary of her. In some ways. That she became a person that realized who and what she was. So she did find her way, even without the Red Room. He didn't say if it was good or bad. Yet, he did make it sound lonely. That there were few people who could accept aspects of her.

A lot to consider and process. She gave a nod as she continued to walk along with him. Then she remembered something and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a woman's wallet and offered it to him. "I used one of the credit cards inside to buy the clothes. If you could see the wallet is returned and maybe your people can refund her the money?"

No apology. She wasn't sorry that she did it. It'd been a necessity when she was intending on escape. Thus, it wasn't something to be sorry about. Ever the pragmatist.

"Was I wrong that I'm happy at this point in my future?"
Phobos has posed:
    He accepts the wallet, and pauses for a moment to untie his jacket and start to slip it back onto his arms, pulling the sleeves in place and then adjusting it a little. He squints when he looks down at the zipper and holds it up, some of it torn from the jacket itself which causes him to level that squint on her for daring to mess up one of his favorite casual pieces of sportswear.
    But then he puts his phone away and the lady's wallet, nodding to her that he would do as she wished.
    Then she asked if she was happy and he smiles. He looks away, rubbing a fingertip along the curve of his chin, then looks back. "I believe we're happy. I mean..." He crinkles his nose slightly. "I'd never speak for her. But I think she is."
    A pause, then he half-smiles, "I think she might like me a little bit." He holds up his fingers, about an inch apart. "A smidge."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
And that earned an elbow nudge. A not so much Natasha move as a Natalia one, sort of fitting with her age. "Just a smidge, huh? I saw those pictures. She was on a boat in her underwear with you. That seems like she likes you more than a smidge that she let you take that sort of risque picture of her."

Oh the innocence of the past. If only she knew what the world had become. Being winter, she wasn't being subjected to what most people considered outerwear in the modern age. Everyone had jackets, bundled up against the cold. Even women who had on skirts seemed to have leggings of some type underneath them, which she presumed was to fight the cold as well. Or maybe they always had the underneath cause some of those skirts were actually above the knee. In daylight on the street, not a club with jazz playing. THough most of those were still below the knee in her time.

"But there was another picture in there of her in like this pastel colors. And one of you in...armor. Well, a helmet. I wouldn't really say the rest was armor."
Phobos has posed:
    Alex lets his smile grow a little, but then suppresses it again as he looks back at her, trying to play it cool but she can see that small warmth of a connection. "It's not underwear it's a swimsuit, we were on a boat." He tells her, then adds as if it explains it all, "Fashion changes over time."
    Then she brings up the photos and he laughs a little, gently as he shakes his head. His hands slide into his pockets and in that moment she might realize he's taking it a little easier with her. "Ah that was... Halloween a few years ago. Costumes."
    He looks for recognition but then adds, "Over here it's a holiday. She was going as a Djinn. I was going as a Spartan." A pause as he seems on the edge of saying something else, then subtly shifts gears. Most anyone else wouldn't notice. "It's a movie that you... she likes."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Natalia did catch that tiny shift but she wasn't sure she should ask. He was being careful not to say things that could cause potential issues in the future. Past. Something like that. SO he probably was editing for a good reason. Though she was curious and it showed on her face.

"Spartan. As in the Greek city state Sparta with the warriors. I don't think they dressed like that either." Though she did give a little nod as she admitted, "But being from a movie, I'm sure they used creative license on their interpretation." Boy did they. If she only knew.

"You looked very good. Which I know, weird coming from a 15-year old. But you did. Course, she did too. Or I did. I have to say I'm happy with how I turn out." Which brought another question to mind as she had a sudden chance in expression when the light bulb thought appeared. "Do I look like that because of the serum or do I work for it? I like the physical activity so I'm thinking the latter. With the gymnastics and dance on top of everything else." Everything else being combat training.
Phobos has posed:
    She offers her reply about Sparta and she'll see his eyebrows rise as he replies while they walk along at that leisurely pace, moving through the crowd on the streets effortlessly. "It depends on the era. There were times when they did forego a breastplate depending on temperature and the speed of deployment they..." But he catches himself before he over-explains and then just sort of half-smiles sidelong at her. "But yeah, it was mainly for looks. Since yeah. Movie."
    Then she asks about her training regime and he smiles a little. "Well. Even if she did not train she would still be exceptional. I believe that's part of the serum. But the training does enhance her performance profile. So..."
    He looks at her, one eye scrunching up a little bit. "We do spend a good chunk of our time training. But it's fun. Always better with someone else."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Oh?"

Why did that word come out sounding almost challenging? But if he glanced over, that smirk was on Natalia's face. "So another reason you're my babysitter. You spar with older me so you probably know my tricks."

A glance at the little bit of blood on his shirt and then the amusement was in her voice too. "Well, most of them. You got lulled into a sense of comfort because you know older me and let me take advantage of it." She made a tsking sound with her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

"She was very toned and strong." She looked at her own physique, a bit more slim and not nearly to the level of tonality as her future self. Not quite as bulky either. Course, she hadn't fully matured yet either. "I'll have to make sure I push for that. If I remember. Though I guess I shouldn't and just see..." She threw up her hands. "This is entirely too confusing. If I make it back, hopefully I won't remember."
Phobos has posed:
    The young man smirks a little as he walks along as she eyeballs where she bloodied his nose on his shirt. He cocks his head sidelong at her and said, "I gave you a little more... leeway. Than I do normally." Which is all he'll say about that all so brief clash between them.
    But then he says with a quirked eyebrow. "Would you like to hear a story of one of our adventures?" He looks to the side, then back as his thoughts drift to perhaps how he could tell it that might make it harmless. So he says, "Won't be long on the details... but might give you some insight into things."
    As he says that he pauses at the edge of the street, and she likely can tell where they are now as that large mass of greenery that is Central Park is just across the way. That large fountain and the wrought-iron fencing that marks the gateway into the area. He steps forward and waits for a lull in the traffic then half-jogs across the street, stopping and turning around to look at her to make sure she gets across okay.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
She was only a step behind him really. Because she had shorter legs. But she had put on enough speed to make sure she got across safely as well, stepping up onto the curb and giving him a quick flash smile before turning her attention to the park. It seemed massive. And she knew it was. But to actually be here was a treat for her.

She started in, whether he had fully intended to or not. He could follow or not. Considering he was her keeper, she was positive he would. Likely this was his destination anyway but she couldn't know that for sure.

"I'd like to hear a story, sure. Just ...if you can. Without potentially blowing up the world," she added, that light tease in her voice since that was how they had started their first conversation.
Phobos has posed:
    "That is the problem isn't it?" Alexander walks along after her, the scent of fresh water with the slight tang of rust carried on it could be smelled as they entered the area around the fountain, its lights still bright as it was only partially running as part of it had frozen.
    Yet he follows along after her, hands returning to his pockets as he strolls. He looks up toward the grey sky half anticipating that the snow might start to fall at any moment. But once they're back near enough he starts the small story.
    "So, there are different factions. Terrorists. People that intend ill for not just... a nation here or there, but the planet as a whole." Alexander touches a hand to his chest and says, "You know where I work, and it's where she works as well." He smiles a bit, "Sometimes we work together, a lot of times we don't. You know what her specialty is. Mine is often similar." He chews his lower lip in reflection then says.
    "There was a point where I was loaned out to another agency." He tells her, and she can tell he's choosing his words properly. "Since I had worked against the enemy operatives before. There was a leak, however. And they were waiting for me. Situation went down poorly. This organization has a history of capturing people and then turning them. They wanted to try and make it so they had their hands on me as long as they could. So they..."
    Alex rubs the back of his neck and says, "Made it seem like I'd died."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Her specialty. That would be espionage in all it's glory. From taking on a role and becoming another person fot infiltration and information gathering. To being given a mark and taking them out in whatever means were required. Sometimes it needed to look like an accident. Sometimes it needed to be obvious to be a deterrant for others. She was not fully graduated yet but she already had her first kills under her belt back before she was double digits in age. The Red Room was a harsh mistress. Those who survived were the strong ones. There were far more that didn't.

He mentioned having his own specialties and she presumed it was like. THough from different sources, of course. Since he was not part of Red Room or Winter Soldier training. Did he also have a serum in his system to make him peak human? That would be interesting. Would explain how they sparred together in this time and he could apparently hold his own against her.

As he explained the tale, she listened closely. Glancing over as they strolled quietly through the park. Less people present than there would be in the summer months giving them not complete privacy but enough they could talk freely.

At mention of him being captured, she paused and looked at him more closely. Saw the nervous motion of rubbing the back of his neck, usually indicative of discomfort. And when he mentioned the made it seem he was dead, her eyebrows would rise in surprise.
Phobos has posed:
    "Instead," Alexander says as he walks along beside her, "Natasha noticed a small bit of information in the imagery that they sent that only she knew that let her realize that the person they killed wasn't me." Though he doesn't elaborate on that piece of information since to do so might open up a whole other can of worms.
    "What they were really doing was trying to isolate and hold me for as long as they could. Nat, though, knew that time was limited. And she knew the political situation wasn't likely to be handled quickly. So."
    He uncurls a hand to the side, "She resigned. And promptly 'stole' a vehicle and came to the rescue. Gave up what was... is a very long career. And executed the op to get in, and get me, and get out."
    He smiles slightly, "So in the nick of time she swoops in, we escape together. And since things were a mess already we decided to just take our time getting back. And that... is the story behind the photo on the boat." He nods a little.
    "So to answer your earlier question now that I've thought about it some. I do think she likes me."
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
That...sounded not at all like her. Natalia's face was very expressive as he told the tale. A flash of a smile when he said she resigned and stole a vehicle to come to the rescue. That did sound like her. Or something she'd do if she felt the need to act. But she gave up a long career--for him. To save him.

But the hero? She wasn't a hero. People in her line of work weren't heroes. Not really. They were liars and killers. They were all the moral things thing weren't on the right side of the angels.

There as a soft laugh as he finished though and she shook her head. Then she mirrored his motion of earlier, holding up two fingers very close together. "But just a smidge."
Phobos has posed:
    "A touch," He says with a scrunched up eye and fingers again an inch apart. He shakes his head and smiles as he looks away, as if not wanting her to see that smile too easily. Or perhaps not wanting to look directly at her. Since she is and isn't his Natasha.
    He takes a deep breath and crinkles his nose as he looks at the fountain. He digs into a pocket and tosses a coin into it, causing it to skitter across some of the ice and then ploop into the unfrozen edge of it. He turns to her and then says, "But that's the kind of person she... is. You are? Maybe. If you let yourself be that person." A small shrug is given, then he lightly baps the side of her shoe with his own then starts to walk toward the side path that leads down toward the lake.
Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"May I have a penny?" she asked before he could get too far. And when he pulled a coin out of his pocket, she took it and eyed the copper bit. Only, it didn't feel right. Too light. Were they even copper anymore? Not that it mattered.

She moved to the edge of the fountain. "I've heard of making a wish wells and fountains but never seen one," she admitted. She turned the coin over in her fingers. The she lifted her gaze to look at the park, the city outside it. This world that was so different from her own.

Then she looked at him. Studying him almost as though she was trying to memorize his features. Then she flippped the coin into the spot where his coin had entered the water, watching it disappear.

Then she walked to join him, moving further into the park, as she reflected on the revelations of today.