View source for 3210/A Little Birdy Told Me

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/11/21
|Location=Triskelion, New York City
|Synopsis=Natasha calls John Aaron to ask him about some rumors she's been hearing.
|Cast of Characters=93, 340
|pretty=yes
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{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;While the world is large, there are times when it seems very small. Rumors swirl and abound, traveling from one person to the next. SHIELD always has ears on the steets and this time, the word involved a certain name that is flagged in their files. If there is anything to do with any of his known aliases, the call goes in to the Black Widow immediately. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Natasha was certain she was hearing wrong but it was one of those moments where she had to officially check into it. She had invited the man called John Aaron to meet her for lunch to catch up on things. While that part was true, her ulterior motive was to confirm the status of the rumor. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Certainly he would've spoken to her. She likes to think that they are good enough friends for that. Yet, sometimes people have things they don't feel they can share, even with their friends.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At the appointed time, she is waiting in her office for his arrival. The computer screen has been drawn out of it's hiding place within her desk and she is working on some test lines of code as she waits. Her fingers fly over the keys as the lines of prgramming scroll by at a rapid pace.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:340|Ares (340)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At times the drudgery of maintaining the facade of being a mortal can be so tedious. Being accessible at all times. Having to travel in traffic. Being bound to the laws and strictures of mankind. Nonsense. But for various reasons the man known as John Aaron suspends these feelings. There are worse things to endure. Such as his family. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;So it is always against that benchmark that Ares matches his difficulties. Enduring a drive into the city pales in comparison. Even if it is to visit the Triskelion, a place that does not entirely share a positive place in his thoughts.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The black SUV draws into the parking spot only a few minutes late, taking a place amongst all the other black SUVs that seem so ubiquitous when one deals with SHIELD. He emerges from it, enters into the foyer, then is sent through with directions and a visitor's pass. It's a few minutes after the appointed time that she'll hear a knock on the door... and then he steps within.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Natasha," He looks around his surroundings somewhat, then squints back at her. "Is this business or pleasure?" Down to brass tacks.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That earns a smile as Natasha rises from behind her desk. The computer screen remains in place though instead of retracting as it usually does when she's ready to head out the door. "No Hi, how are you. No chatting. Just get right down to it, huh?" she asks in a light tone as she walks around the large wooden desk. Her office hasn't changed. It is still bland, sterile almost. There is the large wooden desk which doesn't really fit the rest of the decor but she refused to budge and take one of those glass numbers. It had to be modified but it makes her happy. Two comfortable chairs are in front of it. A small couch to the side. Generic art on the walls that may have come from a chain hotel somewhere by the quailty. Behind the desk the wall is all bookshelves containing a few books but most of them are empty. It's a workplace with no hints of the woman who spends time there.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"It's a little of both," she admits as she waves a hand to one of the soft, leather chairs. "Would you like something to drink or...?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:340|Ares (340)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Mmm," He says at first, eyeing her askance, but his lip twists into a small smirk. "When you are wanting to be social your entreaties tend towards the cryptic. When it is something akin to business... well that is when you are your most effusive." A curious observation, but perhaps it has been his experience in dealing with her. Or perhaps he is just trying to get her goat.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He takes a step around and he rests a hand on the arm of the sofa before dropping into the seat, leaning back and crossing a leg over his knee, lips curled wryly as he considers her from afar. "Vodka?" He asks as he quirks an eyebrow, since truly if anything will set the tone... then that assuredly is it.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But before she can set to he lifts a hand, gesturing to the side somewhat. "I expected to hear from you, one way or another. To be fair."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Did you?" Natasha responds as she walks back behind the desk, directly to one of the empty bookshelves. One of the shelves is tapped and it slides foward, revealing a small freezer. Within are two bottles of vodka, chilled to the perfect temperature. The lower area is chilled and there are two glasses within. Some people would put ice in it and while that is fine in times of necessity, she likes her little luxuries. She pours the liquid into the pair of glasses then returns the bottle to the freezer. She walks over and offers him one, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She's dressed down, in preparation for their lunch. Or up may be the right word since she's in a nice pair of slacks with a green blouse that matches her eyes. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I'm hearing rumors, John. About you approaching people. Or your alter ego."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:340|Ares (340)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Turned to the side and looking at her, John accepts the glass and gives a single nod in thanks before he rests his arm along the back of that couch. He taps a fingertip light upon the fabric that covers the seat, then cocks his head to the side as if looking on her from another angle. "Yes," He answers.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Then he tilts the glass back and downs the shot, setting the empty now upon the small coffee table near them. He seems to be considering her, then their surroundings. But after a moment he seems to come to a decision. "Is it better to know of something even if there is naught you can do about it? Or is ignorance preferable?" He gestures to the side absently as if brushing the question away.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Whatever rumor you have heard is likely true. If you and yours are as competent as I imagine. I trust you enough to tell you such directly. Whatever you wish to do with it is yours to decide."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Natasha regards him a long moment, taking her time to consider his answer. She drinks her shot, setting her glass aside then tucks a leg up under her as she turns sideways on the couch to look at him directly. She leans against the arm on her end, settling in comfortably.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"The rumors don't give details. Just that you are seem to be gathering some people. No purpose." She tilts her head to the side a bit as she lets her gaze linger on his body, his posture. He's always been honest with her and she with him. A respect they developed when she was a naive, green agent and he was...him.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"SHIELD wants to know what it is about but they aren't too worried. When it came across my desk though, I had a question of my own." <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her gaze locks with his, green eyes meeting brown. "Do you need my help?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:340|Ares (340)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A small smirk plays over his features, but he looks to the side as his thoughts drift towards their surroundings, the people they're amongst, the agency she is a part of. He looks back towards her and shakes his head, "I do not, though I had considered contacting you." His smile shifts a touch wry, "But that is what you get for being so respectable."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He flares the hand slightly on the back of the couch, gesturing to the side as he murmurs. "Tell your superiors you investigated, and that I am likely contacting others. That I have assembled them with a task at hand. Currently it is primarily in tracking down and dealing with whatever alien equipment and military personnel that remain from the invasion."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He gestures towards the bottle and quirks an eyebrow, "After plying me with a suitable amount of liquor I confided in you enough about my efforts that you could tell it wasn't much on a global or even a local scale. But you'd keep an eye on it for some time."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He looks back to her, smirks. "Good?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Natasha laughs, a smile brightening up her expression and making her seem more woman than agent for that brief moment. They are rare but such smiles do happen. "Very good. Nicely played. But I am not asking for SHIELD. As I said, they weren't too worried about it. If they do become worried, I will be sure to use your tale to appease them." She isn't above lying to her organization but she doesn't lie to him. The meaning behind that is one she doesn't explore. Sometimes her friends mean more to her than the job. It's a simple fact. Not that SHIELD would approve of such a viewpoint but, as respected as she is as an agent, she has often done as she felt was right instead of following orders. She's good enough that she gets away with it, since they like having her skills at their disposal instead of against them.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Only disrespectable types. Got it." She does wonder though. Cleaning up the invasion isn't something that a reputable person couldn't do. There is more to it.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She doesn't press. Instead, she trusts him.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Do I need to ply you with more alcohol to make it believable?" she asks in that teasing tone.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:340|Ares (340)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As she elaborates he gives a nod about her course of action, not able to fault her expectations nor decision. But then she sums up the crew of the Shades so succinctly that he smiles, "Pretty much." He looks sidelong and away, perhaps eyeing that vodka bottle again. "And more booze would do no harm."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A shake of his head is given, "I had considered contacting you, Natasha. But the people I am approaching are people who have already lived and in some ways consider themselves dead already. They are ones who have..."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He straightens up a little and frowns, expression sharpening. "They are already casualties of war. And so they are mine." He tilts his head the other way and looks towards her. "You have some living yet to do."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That explanation earns a bit of a frown. Natasha pushes up gracefully from the seat, heading toward the hidden freezer. A moment later, she comes back with the entire bottle. Some is poured in his glass then hers before she tops it and sets the bottle down. Her glass is lifted and she swirls the liquid inside a moment. Stalling as her mind works. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Is that your reason?" she asks slowly, talking out the way her mind has analyzed the situation. "Because we both know that I died a long time ago, in most ways that count." She sips her vodka, watching him over the rim as she does so. Lowering the glass to rest atop her thigh, she continues. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"We are friends. We care about each others well-being. I can't help but think it isn't so much that I have living to do as you not wanting to see a friend die. Instead of strangers." She doesn't know who he has approached to know if she is right or wrong but the theory seems possible.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:340|Ares (340)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Bah," Is the first thing that comes from him, "Your heart leaps as you overestimate your place in my world, lady of the spider." His tone is rough, dismissive, even as he casually slips into that almost elegant flow of patter that Olympians seem to feel they brought down from their mountain high. "I have seen death enough that it holds no stigma for me, nor place of great repute. It is simply there, with face of ill and duty most mundane."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That having been said he waves a hand again as he settles back into the chair, taking up his drink now and downing it with little ceremony. Swallow, clink, the glass is pushed towards the bottle.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"But these men. They are my Shades. There is a kinship there. A recognition of like meeting like." Then there's a pause and he adds, "But then again it could simply be I think women in a combat unit are merely a distraction." His lip twists.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That earns a quirk of an eyebrow and a smirk. "I see," she says softly as she pours another shot into his glass. She finishes off her second then pours a third into her own glass. The bottle is capped and set aside again. She raises that glass to him. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"A toast. To me overstimating my place in your world--yet still being a distraction," she says with a wink. Then she downs her vodka and sets her glass aside. Perhaps she should make it a half day today. "I must say that is an amazing balance to strike. My talents are more formidable than I thought." <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She settles back in with her leg tucked up under her, leaning on the arm of the couch comfortably. Her own amusement is there for him to see as she considers. "Perhaps I should take you to the gym and show you how distracting I can be when I wipe the mats with you?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:340|Ares (340)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Such is the duality of your gender," He gives a small nod and then the glass strikes the of hers with a resonant /clink/ even as he smirks wryly back at her over the lip of it. He downs that third drink.<br> <br>
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