useofaswhat | 002 ✫ VIDEO (PRIVATE)

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002 ✫ VIDEO (PRIVATE)

[Mal Reynolds has not had an easy couple of days. As stressful as the entire ordeal had been, he could have overlooked an emergency landing on an uncharted planet. He could swallow the concept of aliens, handle sudden skirmishes, adjust to captivity, even hang in there through an escape attempt and cope with the subsequent injuries and surface wounds now peppering his body. Asking him to take on an inmate not even three days after all of this – now, that was a bit much.

He flipped through Natasha Romanoff's file once more, wondering again how he was going to find this woman and why the Admiral had assigned them together in the first place. If she was really as good a spy as her file said there was no way she didn't have an alias. He was just going to have to hope the blunt approach would smoke her out, at least for now. Turning on his communicator, he switched it to video and turned it to face him.]

Duìbùqǐ,* Miz Romanoff? We oughtta meet, seeing as we got a few things to talk about.

* Excuse me

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[Oh. Ohhhh you asshole. she is just narrowing her eyes at the communicator because that is dirty and low, sir. But it might, might be a bluff, so she's calling it.]

A file about a woman no one knows. Why should that bother me?

Maybe it shouldn't. Maybe it won't when I tell the whole Barge about the Red Room and the Winter Soldier and SHIELD.

[You're a dead man Mal. >(

There's a long pause on her end, but eventually she does reply.]

Deck. Five minutes.

I'll be there.

[And he is, although he is of course armed as he waits just as a precaution. He's set it up so he's within sight but not hearing distance of anyone who'd happen to wander in the door – whoever this Natasha Romanoff woman is, Mal is thankful she picked a public place to meet.]

[She makes him wait, at least a little while. And when she does come out, shes doesn't walk right toward him. She heads for the greenhouse, like she's heading there to relax, but really, she's doing her own intel. Seeing who else was on deck, where he was, what he was armed with. Her knife was strapped to the inside of her thigh instead of down a boot this time; boots didn't work well with dresses, and she was wearing a small black number that she tended to put on to make heads turn.

Turned heads were easier to trick.

Eventually, though, satisfied, she made her way toward him, leaning lightly on the rail a few feet away.]

Captain.

[Decked out in that black dress, Natasha definitely turned Mal's head. He watched as she meandered around the greenhouse, wondered if he was looking at his inmate. Natasha Romanoff, Nicole Reese... it would make sense, especially with all her other aliases.

When she approached and leaned against the rail near him his suspicions were all but confirmed. Nodding in greeting, he leaned back, hand resting at his hip just inches from his gun.]

Evening, miss. For a moment there I didn't think you'd show up.

[Her eyes flicker toward his hand, but it's the only reaction there is. She's the picture of calm.]

I want to see my file. [Because fuck you why are all those things in there. >(]

If I showed you, would I be getting it back?

The Admiral could supply you with a new one. [Which is her way of saying yes because there's no point to burning it if he can just get another copy.]

We can talk about it. Before that, though, there's a couple other things I want to touch down on.

Then get to it.

Well, I already read over what the Admiral thinks is important. Let me ask you something, why do you think you're here?

Inmate shortage. [She is nope.jpg'ing here and has no intention of giving him a straight answer yet, sorry Mal. :c]

Sure that's it. You wanna talk, or are we doing this the hard way?

[Just this face, Mal. Just this face.]

I thought we were talking.

Talking, right. Not dancing around the subject like a ballerina hopped up on too much sugar.

So let's start with the basics. Natasha. Hell of a busy woman, aren't you?

[She doesn't narrow her eyes at the metaphor, just wonders if that's in her file, too. She shrugs.]

What makes you say that?

[It's not, but if Mal knew how close he was he'd be cursing God and the Admiral for assigning him to River as an adult.]

Just thinking, anyone who rips out her first throat as a little girl isn't like to be sitting idle. Too much work you could be doing, right?

[She's saner than River, be grateful for that?

And Natasha somehow doesn't bat an eye at that. She thinks about ripping his throat out. Or at least punching him out. But she doesn't. She lifts her chin a little, head tilting so she can look at him.]

Hate to say it, but the recent string of murders hasn't had anything to do with me.

[If he still trusted God, he'd thank Him for that much. At the moment, he should be offering up thanks and praise for Natasha's mercy.]

Never assumed you did. You're no gladiator or crazed murderer. You're a spy, which makes me reckon you've been lurking in the shadows gatherin' information on everyone and figuring out their business. Hell, you probably know more about what's going on than anyone else on the Barge.

High praise. [She just shrugs, keeping totally blank.] I don't like to brag.

I figure, you're the one I go to if I need to know about anyone on board. Am I right?

[Another noncommittal shrug.] Do you need to know something?

Wouldn't mind hearin' who to look out for. Now I know the whole boat's got more'n its share of loose screws, that's plain to see. But I still ain't sure who all's friendly-like and who's lookin' to stick in a knife.

Of course, don't figure you'd tell me yet, does it?

[She smiles a little at that. Mal you just threatened to broadcast her darkest secrets to the whole Barge. B|]

No, I don't think I would.

There anyone here you would tell?

[And the smile widens.] You really think I'd answer that?

Just checking something. [Sheesh, she really is all business.]

So. What do you do for fun around here?

There's the bar. The CES. I don't think anyone's tried bungee jumping over the rail yet. [She looks away from him, finally, to glance over the edge of the boat.] Looks like fun to me.

[Yeah nothing personal here, sorry Mal. :c]

[Nothing personal? We beg to differ.] You go ahead, Nat. I'll hitch up the carabiners for ya.

[There is the tiniest, TINIEST shift in the set of her jaw, the smallest twitch in her mouth.]

It's Natasha.

's what I said. Nat.

Edited 2012-08-24 16:38 (UTC)

[You son of a bitch. B|]

I prefer Natasha. [Srsly Mal she doesn't give many warnings.]

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002 ✫ VIDEO (PRIVATE)

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