OOM: 2011, Moscow, Russian Federation

[redintheledger]

Tanya's employment at Club Pravda runs for fifteen days.

Her target, Fjodorov, has a pattern for when he is in town. Different girls, different nights, but he turns up most of the nights, and always at the same time. Departures vary, but that is a lack of pattern that is actually useful.

The trick is getting him to stay in town. He comes for several enough nights for plans to be arranged, and then vanishes, talking on his phone. After a brief conference, it is decided that Romanoff should stay in place and observe while she waits Fjodorov out.

(They put in a time-limit, of course.)

There is plenty to observe. Along with the spoiled brats of billionaires are government officials and organised criminals, all mixing together and meeting, flirting, cutting deals. Tanya serves them all with a smile, and Romanoff reports those she sees while her team follow the camera in her headband. It's useful...but not useful enough to justify staying in place for much longer.

Fjodorov shows up on Wednesday night.

He makes plans for Thursday, and Romanoff takes a moment in Tanya's break to breath deeply in relief.

---

Thursday, she wakes up shaking. There are people on fire still dancing behind her eyes, and even as she's stumbling over to the bathroom, she knows exactly what triggered that nightmare.

Note to Romanova, don't turn up at fucking Milliways until this is over, she tells herself firmly, and deliberately shoves the issue of Rae and glowing and bodies and strange inter-dimensional bars out of her mind.

She has work to do.

Despite the way Romanoff woke up, the start of Thursday's shift is uneventful. By which she means that it has no more the normal irritations for a busy and popular club that only has humans as patrons.

Fjodorov is comfortable at his table, with bodyguards, a bevy of beautiful girls, and a mixture of friends, contacts, and potential business partners drifting to and fro. By 1:37am, there is a lull, and the man seems to just watching the people on the dance floor.

Comments

[redintheledger]

She nods, as if it all sounds perfectly reasonable.

Underneath the calm, her mind is rapidly calculating options and weighing up risks.

"And what do you get if you 'win'?"

[redintheledger]

"Oh, I'm sorry, didn't I mention? If I win, I take over the mantle of 'Black Widow'."

The cheer slides into a tone that can only be described as a mixture of disappointed and sulky.

"I'm more deserving of it now, anyway, since you've gone soft."

[hisonegoodeye]

"Agent Romanoff? Am I interrupting?"

He sounds... tense, suddenly - at least by his standards, so to anyone else he would still sound almost serene. But not to her, because they know each other and he already knows what's going to happen next.

"Because if I am, I know what you're thinking, and the answer is 'don't'. There are better options and we're going to need you on this, Natasha -"

[redintheledger]

There is a moment - not a very long one - where it seems as if Romanoff might actually listen to Coulson.




"Let's talk business," she says finally, and takes off the choker with the microphone before sliding the ear-pieces out from her inner-canals.

Then she destroys them.

[hisonegoodeye]

SCREE-

The feedback makes him wince, but it's not pain that makes his fist hit the desk so hard two more agents' paperwork takes a tumble to the floor.

It's a split-second reaction; by the time the first agent has whirled to stare at him, he's perfectly neutral again.

(But the bland not-quite-smile's a little tight.)

"Cover the desk," he tells Koskinen, who knows better than to point out she's a grade too low for the job. "I need to go talk to Fury."

[the_man]

"Yeah," Fury says, leaning on the doorframe. "You really do."

His timing is excellent, stepping out of the shadows, coat blowing dramatically behind him. Several agents look up in surprise (and startled dismay).

"Come on. Let's take a walk."

[hisonegoodeye]

(Damn.)

He knows better than to be surprised that Fury's there, but he wouldn't have objected to being allowed ten seconds to figure out how exactly he's going to explain this to the director.

"Yes sir."

[the_man]

They don't go far. Just down the hall, out of earshot to the other agents. They know better than to eavesdrop, but it's better to remove temptation entirely.

"How much should I be worrying, here? Is this a 'pick up an extra pack of TUMS' problem, or a 'call out the National Guard' problem?"

[hisonegoodeye]

He doesn't know. For all of thirty seconds, while they're walking, he doesn't know.

"No National Guard," he says.

Yet.

"But I might need some time off-campus."

[the_man]

"Done," Fury says easily, waving one hand. "Pick someone to head up the home operation while you're gone and stay in touch."

He gives Coulson the eye. "I hope you're better at it than Romanoff is."

[hisonegoodeye]

"Yes, sir," he says again, which is an answer he's always loved for how not-an-answer it is.

"I'll take Lin and Isaacs. Sir."

Which is as good a 'please' as any.

[the_man]

"You've got 'em."

Just as dramatically as he entered, Fury sweeps off down the hallway. He pauses just before the corner.

"And Coulson? Bring my agent back. Preferably in mint condition."

Then, he's gone.

[hisonegoodeye]

"Yes, sir," he says one more time, and this time it's not just an answer - it's a promise.