twelve_not_fourteen | Along Came a Spider ...

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Along Came a Spider ...

Were Han another kind of man, he might be concerned that "the plaza" is not all that specific of a meet up point. The thing is, he has all types of rendezvous with people where he comes from that are planned only in light details. Sometimes on even less than what he and Nat agreed upon yesterday. At least he got a time in this case.

One of the few instances where the Captain puts faith in something beyond himself ... when two people are meant to find each other, they do. And when they aren't meant to, they won't. A lot of bitter pills of all kinds were swallowed in learning that particular lesson, but it's one he knows to be true.

She said she would be there. With the strange qualifier that she might be busy needing to 'save the world'. Something he didn't really know how to interpret truth be told - a joke maybe? Hard to tell when nearly all the things she says comes in that difficult to discern tone. Even then, she said she would find him later.

That makes him generally more optimistic that he'll see her here, then not.

Han is trying to look casual, while leaning on the outside of one of the shops in the plaza. His eyes weaving though the crowd looking for that person he found drifting in and out of his thoughts ... like wisps of smoke since he met her.

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It's not hard to spot Natasha when she wants to be seen, especially not in the clinging black suit she's wearing. Natasha is walking briskly through the Nexus when Han catches sight of her. She has her head tilted slightly as she touches at something in her ear, talking quietly.

She looks up after a moment and makes her way over to Han, tucking her hair behind an ear and slipping the earpiece out in the same movement to tuck it away.

"You look more rested."

Uh. Yeah. It um.

Wow.

That is a very curve hugging outfit she has on, isn't it? It's lucky for him he picked her out from far enough away that he can compose himself a little. He was not prepared for her to be in a ... whatever that is.

He sees some of the gear on her person seems tactical? She did mention being something of a spy. The insignia on it, he doesn't recognize of course, but he knows the idea of what that's supposed to mean. Flight suits, even where he comes from, have similar regalia.

"I feel more rested." He says, trying to look without staring. "I didn't realize I was a man who liked his women in uniform until today."

"I'm glad you made it."

"I told you I might have to work today." Natasha quirks an eyebrow at Han's reaction, smiling slightly as she makes her way over to the pilot. It's always fun when someone sees the outfit for the first time. Natasha barely even notices it herself since she's so used to wearing it or one of several outfits nearly identical to it.

"Didn't end up being much of an incident." Couple of Hydra cells located in Manhattan. Fly in, kick ass, fly out and still be home in time for breakfast. "You thought I wouldn't?"

"Yes, but you did warn me you might not make it."

He tries to go into such things not expecting anything one way or the other. If there's disappointment to be had, it seems easier to take that way.

As it is, whatever was going on happened so recently that she didn't have time to change or she just didn't want to because she's comfortable in the black skintight garb. Or ... maybe another reason altogether.

Han's outfit is only weird in the sense that there aren't many people from his galaxy around here. It's typical of what he wears and clean. Navy jacket today and a white shirt. Pants that match that specific shade of blue. The same black boots that he has half a dozen pairs of.

"Shall we?"

Considering her entourage occasionally includes Steve Rogers who can't be trusted to dress himself ever and Thor, who thinks every outfit needs a gaudy cape, Han fits in pretty well.

With her attire as it is, the pistols she keeps holstered are easily visible, as well as a couple knives. It's only a fraction of the arsenal she keeps on hand, but it's enough of a deterrent for even the seediest within the underbelly most days.

"Have you eaten yet?" She calls over her shoulder, already heading toward the more urban sector of the Nexus toward the shopping district downtown.

The weapons, he finds, seem oddly at home on her. In a way that he wouldn't have necessarily expected upon having talked with her yesterday. It ... just works on her and she moves with such purpose that you almost don't question the ensemble.

When she moves, he follows. Han's own walk has that touch of a swagger in it. It matched the persona he often adopted as a teenager and then again when he began smuggling. Bravado. The defense mechanism that serves the Captain well most of the time.

"No." He admits, keeping up. The long legs help in that regard. "Is that what we're doing first?"

Han may walk with bravado, but Natasha does so with confidence. The difference between wanting others to think you're the baddest dude in the pond, and knowing you are. She's still coming down from the mission high, eyes scanning for trouble as they stroll though the Nexus.

"If you want. What kind of food do you like?" Natasha doesn't know what they eat where he's from, but she's pretty confident she can find them a good place for it along the way.

"Generally? Meat and grain dishes. Spicy to a degree. I don't need food to be melt my face kind of hot, but I like it with a kick." He says with a shrug, trying to describe in the broadest terms. It wont do any good for him drop names of menu items from his galaxy, though he's found a few dishes from home around.

"If you're craving breakfast," it is still relatively early, "I've grown to like chicken eggs."

"Oh yeah?" Natasha can't help but smile when he says that. It reminds her of similar adventures in culture shock she's done before. Han may not be much like Rogers, but in this regard they're the same. "Could hit up a diner. Eggs any way you can imagine them, fresh coffee, and enough sausage and/or potato to make your head spin."

Like Han, Natasha is avoiding dropping any names as they aren't likely to mean much to him.

"Though personally, give me a good bit of dark bread and some eggs and I'm set for the day." Ignore her, Han. That's the Russian in her talking. They're not usually breakfast-y people. Natasha stops outside a modest looking diner and pulls open the door.

"C'mon. Let's fuel up before we shop."

Han ... goes out to eat nearly every day. He has to really feel out of it and be committed to spending the day in not to, because to be honest? He isn't much of a cook. It's no big deal to stop somewhere before parking himself at a sabacc table for the evening after all. Or before whatever other debauchery he's decided to indulge in for that evening.

And he's come to find that the diners around here suit him because they tend to keep odd hours and the food is pretty consistent. Not to mention familiar, since variants of a diner exist in his galaxy.

Though he hasn't been to this one before.

"Do you eat lightly all the time or is that just in the morning?" He asks while they walk in and get seated. He knows she doesn't always like to talk about herself, but general preferences and habits seem like relatively benign questions. Not to mention useful answers to know for later.

"Breakfast just isn't a big deal for me is all." Natasha shrugs and leads the way to one of the small booths facing the large windows. "Some of the places here make me want to rethink that though."

A larger woman with dark skin comes round to sit two steaming cups of coffee in front of each of them and hand them well worn and loved menus. Han especially gets a fond smile from the older woman and a nod before she heads back off to chat with one of her other regulars.

"This place makes amazing breakfast, so knock yourself out."

Some of the things ingrained in Han Solo are now second nature. The results of negative conditioning and a want to survive has put in him some interesting approaches to problem solving and life in general.

He was so young when he realized that indulging people will often make them more receptive to getting what you want out of them later. The smile that comes to his face is handsome and warm. The Captain offers her a polite thank you punctuated with the first term of endearment he can think of.

Winning over the waitress probably wont get him too much other than maybe more frequent walks back to the table with fresh coffee, but that ain't so bad. He likes coffee.

After a moment of his eyes drifting across the menu, he says, "you weren't kidding about maybe having to save the world, I realize."

"Nothing too traumatizing today. No major injuries and I got to watch Tony get knocked through a steel door. So. That was fun." Natasha sips at her coffee and gives the menu a cursory glance.

"Careful with that smile. She adopts just about everyone." Natasha nods toward Nana and gives her a small smile. When she turns her head, Han will notice a laceration on her head right at her hairline that's been tended to.

"Normally the job's a lot more investigating. We only have to fight when we fail to stop things before they start."

Han doesn't know who 'Tony' is, of course. Nor does he really have a concept of how a steel door of earth compares to the durasteel of his world, but he has a suspicion that it would hurt. Add to that tidbit the fact that she's got a tended to cut and he's put together that Nat's job gets pretty rough sometimes.

"One more for the harem." He says with a shrug and a smirk. The captain wouldn't have thought twice about the way he behaved around the waitress if she hadn't brought it up. He just thought he was being friendly and perhaps subtly manipulative.

"I never really understood why anyone tries to pick fights that big." He says, struggling to find exactly the way he mean to explain himself. "Are you managing the minor injuries okay?"

"Because it's better us than the general public, usually." Natasha gives a shrug of her shoulder, but she understands the question. A few years ago she would have been right with him in that line of reasoning. Times and people change though and Natasha has come to accept and even take pride in her new role as an Avenger.

"We get on alright. Some days are worse than others. Have had a couple of close calls, but who hasn't?"

He didn't expect her to have something profound that would completely change his views of the world, that not a very realistic outlook. If anything he hopes that overtime of getting to know each other that it will begin to make sense to him. If, in fact, she does want to do that.

The fact that she's helping him get a phone that would make it easier to do that seems like a step toward that. Maybe. It's tough to tell with her.

"I imagine there's some life out there that, some people out there have ... where they're spared the sensation of what it's like to be cut or shot at."

Nana wanders back about then to take their order. Natasha settles on a pancake with eggs and toast (hey she had a hell of a workout earlier the extra carbs aren't gonna kill her figure). She gets a stern talking to about a balanced breakfast and adds a small fruit cup to Natasha's order that she will eat whether she likes it or not. Then it's making sure Han gets enough food--and she will nag him if he tries to go light on his breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day don't ya know, hon. She refills their coffees and heads off to hand her husband the order.

Natasha is polite and smiley and ....altogether not herself around Nana. The face she puts on when she tries to be normal. Tries to fit in. It's a very convincing face because Natasha can be anyone or anything the job demands of her. But it's a lie. The real Natasha is the one who looks empty when Nana walks away to her husband before looking down into her coffee cup when Han comments about lifestyles.

"I'd agree with you, but the nineteen year old I'm housing escaped a mountain full of monsters that ate people and disemboweled them and he wakes up screaming more nights than not. So. All the more reason I do what I do. So that doesn't have to happen to other folks."

It will be a plate of over easy eggs, potatoes and bacon. Which is way more than usual for the Captain and any encouragement to eat more from either female is going to get them a look. He mostly agreed to breakfast so he could soak up more time with Nat, not because he was actually hungry.

He might have been able to dismiss that if he hadn't have known she was talking about Chris. Hard to be so instantly dismissive when it's someone you care about. Han shakes the image of the kid having nightmares out of his head.

"I suppose someone has to do it."

"Sorry, that was kind of a downer." Natasha sighs long and through her nose in between long sips of coffee. "He's a good kid. Doesn't deserve the shit he was put through."

All because of that fucked up psycho out to humiliate his so called friends. And what hurts the most is knowing Chris is from a different world. That there are innumerable worlds out there she can't help. She can't even keep her own from falling into chaos.

"I put down bad people. Aliens. Magic users. They try to hurt my world--so I hurt them back worse. That's what being an Avenger is about. That's my job. I was assigned here to keep an eye out for potential threats--and potential allies." She looks up at Han when she sets down her mug.

"And if you think that's fucked up, you really don't want to know what I did before I decided to help protect the world."

'You could say that most of the people don't deserve what they've been through if it's something that was out of their hands.' Though, in the case of bloodthirsty, literal monsters might get you some sort of special consideration. Either way, he's not going to say that out loud. Just seems like ... insensitive maybe.

"It's just so far from what I know that it's hard to appreciate." The idea of magic. One singular planet that all humans have to share. It's all a bit hard for him to quantify.

"Luckily for you then, most of our day is gonna be teaching you how to use communications tech." Natasha shrugs easily, prepared to let the subject drop.

"Also luckily for you, you don't have to really worry too much about my world." She isn't in the habit of taking anyone there, really.

"You know it's funny that you should say that." He says taking another sip from the bitter brew in his mug. "I do feel pretty fortunate today."

It's all well and good that there's a subject change. He was ready for one. Though he will add, "it seems like your world is in good hands anyway." One smugglers worry about it one way or another can't effect the fate of it to strongly.

"What do you do for R and R? Or are you the type that forgoes that?"

"It feels lately like being here is my R&R. Meeting folks. Chatting them up. Taking stock of events and and enjoying myself." She gestures around them.

Being in a place like this is most certainly relaxing to her.

"Though I do enjoy a movie now and again." A good one, not the garbage that Clint watches usually. "What about you? Does lugging around rusted relics help you pick up all the ladies or what?"

Some of that is R and R, sure, but is sounds like she doesn't completely relax when she's around here either. There was an implication of drilling, training and practicing that was disclosed to him earlier and if he had to guess, he'd put her as someone who probably doesn't relax enough.

That's just his best guess though. It's the intensity she has about her that makes him think that, anyway.

"To be fair, if someone wanted to know the real me, hypothetically. Running into me while I was pushing around a rusty bike would give them a clearer picture of what they're getting into then most of the other ways one could meet me."

Having dropped that nugget of honesty on her, he comes the second part of that answer.

"I don't get a lot of time to stay in one place, but when I do have spare time, it's usually having a few drinks to unwind and playing cards for me. Movies seem alright, but I haven't seen many."

Relaxing and Natasha are certainly strained acquaintances, rather than friends. This much is for certain. She imagines Han must have a lot of free time when he's en route to anywhere in space. That's just part of the reality of it.

Most of space is well. Empty.

A smile quirks at the corner of her mouth and she nods.

"A hobby is a hobby. So long as you steer clear of tetanus it's probably fine." She taps a finger against the laminate of the table, watching Han carefully with interest.

"You good, or good at sharking?" The smile grows a bit. "Cheating, I mean."

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Along Came a Spider ...

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