She waits, wondering if he'll take the bait, but he's a smart boy and he doesn't correct her, either because he knows that she's trying to get a rise out of him or because he still can't get too close to her. He's going to have to get used to it though, isn't he? A part of Natasha knows that he will, and she reminds herself how foolish that is; she doesn't know him. Yet, she's certain that she's safe. After this long, she has a sense in her gut that tells her when she's in danger. This isn't one of those times.
She's sitting on the couch, curled up with a smutty romance novel when he pokes his head in, and she glances up at him before she looks out the window to see the time. "...If we're talking a deer I might be able to get the thing properly skinned before sundown, but that's the biggest. Anything smaller will work."
She spends the day concentrating on their food and keeping the fire going, and by the time night comes Natasha practically collapses into bed. No matter how occupied she keeps herself, though, it doesn't feel right being here. She's kept her body somewhat busy but her mind has gone dull already, she's used to constantly moving, constantly thinking and constantly surviving. It isn't necessary to do that here, she's waiting for the rush of action or the fear of failing a mission and nothing comes. It's just him. Him, their little cabin, and that goddamn owl outside that's keeping her awake.
It's not really the owl's fault. She's restless, she's barely made it a week without being directed by someone else and five of those days were dedicated to making her way to the safe house in the first place. She doesn't like this, floating without a purpose, and it wasn't until her conversation with Jasper earlier that she realized how pointless everything she'd done for Shield really was. Had she ever taken an order based solely on helping people? Was there always an ulterior motive? Will that owl ever shut the hell up?
Not even ten more minutes pass before she's out of bed, and Natasha throws her door open before walking out into the house in her underwear and the thin t shirt that she sleeps in. She ignores Jasper, heading directly for the closet where she keeps her rifle, and the process of loading it and cocking it with a shake of one arm barely takes her a few seconds. "I'm going to kill that owl." She doesn't explain why but she says it with absolute certainty, and Natasha walks out of the house barefoot into the night.
She's back a few seconds later without the sound of a gunshot, and instead she unloads the gun and tosses the rifle back into the closet as the owl continues to hoot, happy to ruin her night. Killing the owl won't help. She can't sleep.
So instead she walks over to the couch and collapses down onto it with a look of frustration, glaring at the table before she finally looks up enough to see him. "What do you even do all night, if you can't sleep?"
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She's sitting on the couch, curled up with a smutty romance novel when he pokes his head in, and she glances up at him before she looks out the window to see the time. "...If we're talking a deer I might be able to get the thing properly skinned before sundown, but that's the biggest. Anything smaller will work."
She spends the day concentrating on their food and keeping the fire going, and by the time night comes Natasha practically collapses into bed. No matter how occupied she keeps herself, though, it doesn't feel right being here. She's kept her body somewhat busy but her mind has gone dull already, she's used to constantly moving, constantly thinking and constantly surviving. It isn't necessary to do that here, she's waiting for the rush of action or the fear of failing a mission and nothing comes. It's just him. Him, their little cabin, and that goddamn owl outside that's keeping her awake.
It's not really the owl's fault. She's restless, she's barely made it a week without being directed by someone else and five of those days were dedicated to making her way to the safe house in the first place. She doesn't like this, floating without a purpose, and it wasn't until her conversation with Jasper earlier that she realized how pointless everything she'd done for Shield really was. Had she ever taken an order based solely on helping people? Was there always an ulterior motive? Will that owl ever shut the hell up?
Not even ten more minutes pass before she's out of bed, and Natasha throws her door open before walking out into the house in her underwear and the thin t shirt that she sleeps in. She ignores Jasper, heading directly for the closet where she keeps her rifle, and the process of loading it and cocking it with a shake of one arm barely takes her a few seconds. "I'm going to kill that owl." She doesn't explain why but she says it with absolute certainty, and Natasha walks out of the house barefoot into the night.
She's back a few seconds later without the sound of a gunshot, and instead she unloads the gun and tosses the rifle back into the closet as the owl continues to hoot, happy to ruin her night. Killing the owl won't help. She can't sleep.
So instead she walks over to the couch and collapses down onto it with a look of frustration, glaring at the table before she finally looks up enough to see him. "What do you even do all night, if you can't sleep?"