PSL for Scott

13/9/17 22:53
tothefly: (smirkety smirk)
[personal profile] tothefly
It feels good, after months of running and chaos, to finally have a routine again. Maybe something most people might think is weird for a spy, someone built from the ground up to think on her feet and be able to adapt to any situation, but it's true nonetheless. Natasha likes the Barge. It's always interesting, even if it isn't always comforting, and the people...well. She's always found people intriguing, and some moreso than others. Scott's one of those. Incredibly straightforward and at the same time, as complicated as you can get. Part of that's probably to do with his world and his history with and within it, but the rest? The rest is just him. The wardrobe choices she's sure are intentional, the casual sarcasm and dry observations, the tendency to forsake meals for coffee and a spoonful of peanut butter during busy or stressful times. And, of course, these little sparring sessions, which have given her more of a workout than she might have originally expected. Not only is he taller than her own 5'2" frame, and heavier of course, but he's more agile than most people who haven't had to fight for their lives would expect. And he always keeps it interesting.

She's already beginning to feel the ache from this latest round of fighting, some bruises probably forming as they speak on her ribs and thighs, her lip still sore from a lucky blow earlier which split it, as she steps into the locker room off the gym, tugging her tank top and sports bra over her head with a wince. There's running water coming from the showers at the other end, which isn't at all surprising and doesn't at all dissuade her from heading that way herself, padding barefoot and naked into the open room and underneath the shower head next to Scott. She's got nothing to be ashamed of, and from the brief look she gets, neither does he.

Turning on the faucet, Natasha lets the water run cold, then warmer, then hot, letting the droplets pelt her still sweaty face and push her hair back out of her eyes, before finally running a hand over her face and looking at Scott, trademark dry amusement in her voice as she watches him.

"So, miracles do happen."

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