SideLines

I own no characters or their names or their backstories. I make no claim to them, well not exactly. This was a result of a prompt challenge, the names only because I needed to borrow a couple names and then, well, I could not resist a little fan fiction.

            The redhead at the end of the bar ordered another vodka, fiddling with her pen.  The bartender hovered nearby, wiping the bar, then a glass while slyly checking her out.  Random people approached and retreated, most with drinks in hand.  Occasionally someone would scrape up enough courage to engage the redhead in the blue dress.  However, no one got far, and were turned away, monosyllabically rejected.  She was never rude and the high-end clientele attracted to SideLines would never push too far, so the rejection was merely shrugged off.

            From a spot mostly hidden, the redhead was noted and watched.  An abrupt hand sign flashed to the bartender. 

The bartender slid a steaming coffee in a simple white cup across the bar and smiled gently. “That was the last,” she said.

“Tell Luca to stick it.”

The bartender chuckled.  “You know I can’t talk to my boss like that.”

“Whatever. How much?”

“It’s on the house, Natasha.”  The soft voice at her elbow made the redhead look over her shoulder.

“Luca.” The corners of Natasha’s red lips tightened. “I don’t want your charity.”

“Good, because you aren’t getting it.  What you are getting is a cup of coffee and then you are going to come with me.”

“No.” Natasha shook her head, the reflections of neon lights sparkled as her hair swayed. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You will, or you will be banned from the bar.  We cannot keep doing this.  You cannot keep going on nothing but coffee and booze.  It’s not healthy.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.  You ought to be happy that I come in.  I’m giving you my money.”

“First of all, I just said it’s on the house. Second, your money?  I neither want nor need it.  Come on, let’s go to the office and talk.”

“I said, I don’t want to go anywhere with you, Luca.”

“You can either come with me now or I will call you a cab. But if I do that, you will not be welcome at SideLines tomorrow. Do you want that?”

Natasha snorted angrily and slipped gracefully from the barstool.  “I’m not drunk, Luca.”

“I never said you were.  But it is not fun watching you drink yourself to death over him. I like you too much and honestly, well, I loved him too much to let you slip away.”

The pair walked to a door not far from the back corner and passed into an immaculate office. 

Natasha sat in a chair covered with supple red leather and eased into its cushioned back.  She crossed her legs at the knee and peered at Luca, who sat in the opposite chair facing her.

“So, what’s the big deal? I came for a drink.”

“You came to get drunk.  You were well on the way.  Nick hates that, Steve hates that, and he would really hate that.”

“Well, he got himself dead, so I really don’t care what he likes.”

Luca’s lips almost slipped into a smile.  Natasha’s burning wit was epic and, even when hurt, she was brutally funny.

“Is this when I’m supposed to break down and cry?” The bitter edge of her voice was a knife.

“If you want.  I would be surprised, a bit relieved to be honest, but, mostly surprised.”  Luca sighed and waited. 

“Fine. I’ll cry.  Then will you let me get out of here?”

Luca leaned forward, putting forearm to knee and peered deep into crystalline blue eyes. “Natasha, please. It’s really beneath you to resort to the tricks you were taught there.  You are stronger and more deserving of peace than they ever let you believe.”

Natasha leaned back against the cushion, coiling like a spring, like a snake. 

Luca raised an eyebrow.

Natasha’s lips pursed, but she relaxed. “Fine.”

“I called the farm. No one answered, of course.  The answering machine came on.”

Natasha’s eyes sparkled. “Did you leave a message?”

The corner of Luca’s mouth twitched. “No.  Didn’t know what to say.”

“You? Speechless? I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve seen me speechless. The party?  Um, hello? Totally silent.”

“I know what you are trying to do, Luca.”

Luca smiled an innocent smile.

Natasha smiled grimly. “Ok, so maybe I’m feeling sorry for myself. I’m mad.”

“I know, I get it. I completely understand. You’ve lost someone who was an important part of your life for not only a long time, but someone to whom you feel a great debt. Having him gone so suddenly, it is extremely shocking to the system.” Luca leaned back, waiting.

“It’s not that. Really. People die. I know that. I expect it. Hell, I’ve caused it.” Natasha tossed her red hair.  “I just don’t know how to fill this hole.”

Luca looked at Natasha’s hand curled tightly at her stomach.

“I’ve tried to stay busy. That helps. A little. But Nick has stopped sending me places or giving me things to shoot. I can’t sit at home. I’ve tried.  I sat on the couch until I realized I kept watching the front door. So, I moved to the recliner.  Watched out the window until it got so dark I couldn’t see anything. I tried getting in bed, but it was too quiet, too still, I couldn’t sleep.”

Luca leaned forward.  “Natasha, you have to sleep. You are running on fumes and it isn’t healthy.  Vodka isn’t going to make it easier.  Talking to someone might.”

“Who am I going to talk to, Luca?  I can’t trust just anyone with my life, my job.  I can’t tell just anybody what I do for a living, much less what I think about it or feel about it.  They’d think I was the monster I was programmed to be.”

“What if they understood?  What if they had experience with that life, too?”

“Oh, who, Luca?” Her sneering retort was acidic.

“Me?”

Natasha eyes widened. Luca had never alluded to a past life, preferring to remain an annoying enigma and a silent observer of those who entered SideLines.

“You? But you’ve never said anything….”

She leaned toward Luca.

Luca relaxed back into the brown chair.

“About being a spy, an assassin? No, of course not.  Kind of the deal, right?  But I have been there, Natasha.  Right where you are.  Grieving a friend, wishing you go back and change one little thing.  Anything to save that one life. The one that really matters.”

Natasha slumped back in her own chair.  “I failed him.”

“I doubt it.  I know you.  I’ve seen you spar at Gilles’ and I just don’t believe that you won’t fight tooth and nail to save your teammates.”

“I didn’t see it coming.”

“Then, how can it be your fault?”

“I didn’t see it coming.  I should have.  I should have seen it.”

“Because you are all knowing, and all powerful?”

“Because that’s how they trained me.  Notice everything, plan for everything, focus, focus. I missed something.”

A head shake, a grim twist of lips.  “No. You didn’t miss anything.  There wasn’t anything to miss.”

“Then why is HE DEAD?”

“Because spies die, Natasha. They do.  We don’t retire, we don’t get to live quietly on a farm in upstate New York, we don’t get to join the circus and travel around the country, and we certainly don’t buy apartment buildings in New York and only come out to walk a dog.” Luca’s voice grew more intense with each phrase.  “We can deny it, we can try to ignore it, but we fight, we disappear, we blow up, we get poisoned, or stabbed or shot or blown up. We die, Natasha. We leave people in pain, if they even know we are gone. We just do. End of story.”

“You aren’t very good at making me feel better, Luca.”  Natasha’s eyes glistened with tears she would never allow to be shed.

Luca smiled wryly.  “It’s not my job to make you feel better, Natasha.  I’m just the muscle.”

A soft knock came at the door.

Luca stood and pressed a small button on the desk.  “Saved at the bell.”

The door opened quietly. 

Natasha gasped and jumped to her feet.

“You are so dead,” she breathed and ran into his open arms.

“Sorry, Nat.  Kinda got lost for a minute somewhere.”

Standing on her toes, Natasha whispered, her lips pressed to the warm skin of his neck. “он умер. Я позволил ему быть убитым.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.”  He eased her away from him and peered at her face. “Tell me again.  I can’t hear a thing.”

“Damn it, Clint. Where have you been?”

“That’s not what you said.  I know ‘damn it’ in Russian, Nat.  You’ve said it enough.  What did you say?”

Natasha collapsed against his chest again and squeezed her arms around his torso.

Luca waved a hand in front of Clint to get his attention. A subtle head shake.

Clint’s eyes narrowed.

He died. She blames herself. Been brutal, Luca signed.

Clint held her closer and laid his cheek against the top of her head.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter, Nat?”

She nodded against his chest.

“Come on, let’s go to the Tower.  Stark owes me one.”

As the pair of assassins left the office, Luca turned back to an empty desk and sat.

And sighed, as the phone rang.

“SideLines. Interfering with the best of ‘em. This is Luca.  Hello, Tony. They’re headed your way.  Don’t bother talking to him.  His hearing aids are God’s knows where.”