[but there are some answers that she can't give over a starkphone.]
It isn't exactly the kind of story you can sum up in 140 characters.
[a pause. her fingers rest on the sides of the screen as she contemplates the next message, goes through three or four iterations of it in her head before finally typing it out. she knows the way to find even ground with cooper barton, and while this situation couldn't be more different —]
Might go better with pizza.
[an invitation, if he wants to take it. she waits.]
( not the kind of story you can sum up — that's probably true, but it's also code. natasha doesn't want to talk about it over the phone, which means it's something tony shouldn't see, which means... james doesn't know what it means. what secrets could she have to keep from him? if she knows where captain america is, shouldn't tony know too?
none of this is making any sense. the soldier wouldn't go off the grid — even if he would, the spy would follow him. they're in love. and tony's their friend, he would know where they've gone. no one would be keeping secrets from each other, it doesn't make sense. )
I've never had pizza before.
( he'll come, but there better be answers waiting for him to go along with that pizza. )
[she's heard bits and pieces about the reality where ultron did a lot more than drop a city out of the sky, and in what she doesn't know, she can fill in some of the gaps. they're all dead, save tony. the world's in shambles, with only small pockets of resistance. that's what the children left behind have to adapt to, have to navigate.
and not for the first time, something seizes in her chest. it's not her fault, it's not even the other-her's fault, but the guilt comes nevertheless. she knows what it's like to be a child and not actually get to be one at all. no one else should ever have to live like that, especially under her watch.]
Pepperoni's my favorite. It was the first kind I ever had.
[a long time ago, fresh out of the red room. that's a story she'll keep to herself, though.]
❰ her attempt at... what, bonding? distraction? whatever it is, james sees it, and at any other time he might be genuinely interested in natasha's opinions on pizza. even now he's filing that knowledge away — pepperoni's her favourite, it's the first she ever had — but all he really wants now are answers. ❱
Meet me at your favourite place. Whoever gets there last has to pay.
[she lets out a breath, and with it goes some tension she'd been unknowingly holding in her shoulders. there are many more delicate steps to take, but this — is a start.
a start down a very long road.]
You know that once something's in writing, you can't back out, right? [a dry joke, one sitting on layers he won't understand.] Have your $15 ready when you get to Vito's :p
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It isn't exactly the kind of story you can sum up in 140 characters.
[a pause. her fingers rest on the sides of the screen as she contemplates the next message, goes through three or four iterations of it in her head before finally typing it out. she knows the way to find even ground with cooper barton, and while this situation couldn't be more different —]
Might go better with pizza.
[an invitation, if he wants to take it. she waits.]
no subject
none of this is making any sense. the soldier wouldn't go off the grid — even if he would, the spy would follow him. they're in love. and tony's their friend, he would know where they've gone. no one would be keeping secrets from each other, it doesn't make sense. )
I've never had pizza before.
( he'll come, but there better be answers waiting for him to go along with that pizza. )
no subject
and not for the first time, something seizes in her chest. it's not her fault, it's not even the other-her's fault, but the guilt comes nevertheless. she knows what it's like to be a child and not actually get to be one at all. no one else should ever have to live like that, especially under her watch.]
Pepperoni's my favorite. It was the first kind I ever had.
[a long time ago, fresh out of the red room. that's a story she'll keep to herself, though.]
no subject
Meet me at your favourite place. Whoever gets there last has to pay.
no subject
a start down a very long road.]
You know that once something's in writing, you can't back out, right? [a dry joke, one sitting on layers he won't understand.] Have your $15 ready when you get to Vito's :p