[ it made it easier for andy to accept their fate perhaps, easier for her to initially against deciding to help. it's likely she wouldn't even remember much about the hivawei in the grand scheme either. she is stateless. culture-less. it's happened over and over, and it ties into her fatigue over the repetition of hurting herself through endless life. ]
[ she snorts, the sound more bitter than amused. she thinks of quỳnh. ] I wouldn't be here if I was always unstoppable.
[ she hums in thought but really the answer is easy. ] The steppe. The Ukok Plateau. [ she mindlessly taps against natasha's hip again. ] What about you?
[Normally, Natasha probably wouldn't push back against that. She wouldn't assume a little casual sex would give her access or authority to comment. This isn't just casual sex, though, is it? The sex is, and it's not that there's some sudden romantic stirring in Natasha's heart. She's too guarded for that.
But there is a sort of intimacy in this conversation. The kind that comes on missions sometimes, on stakeouts, when you're stuck in a hospital bed beside someone—a little familiarity that makes it easier to open up to someone who's still mostly a stranger.]
Doesn't the fact you're here kind of prove the opposite? Stopped, but not forever?
[Assuming any of this works.
She doesn't linger on the comment though, or try to force more out of Andy on that front.
Beside, turning the question around on her is fair.]
I'm not really sure. I don't think I've ever gone somewhere just because I wanted to. I've always been assigned or running from something, or going somewhere there was trouble.
[ maybe it's the weariness in her muscles, her body tired from existence on top of sex, that allows the counter to slip out. ]
Stopped when it mattered most. [ it's hard to feel unstoppable when you're in irons, about to face your sixth or seventh execution in a row. the guilt of quỳnh eats her, no matter how much joe and nicky tried to tell her it wasn't her fault. it's why she stays on this ship, even with joe choosing to go, even with her own desire to flee and get away. ]
[ she lays there in bed, mind roaming like her body can't, drawing a small amount of comfort from the company beside her. ]
Would you go back to anywhere? For the fun of it this time?
[Natasha shifts slightly, turning her head toward Andy to press her cheek to her shoulder briefly in...sympathy? Companionship?]
Paris, maybe? It's easy to be anonymous there. So many people, and no one asking too many questions. Perfect place find a restaurant and settle in with a bottle of wine.
[ she almost smiles, because natasha does deserve to have fun. andy can feel tired of her body and existing and still think this woman beside her deserves nice things. ]
[ the touch of her cheek is unexpectedly warm. another comfort of sorts. ]
[ in some ways it's odd that andy is lingering, given her preferred follow up to collateral sex is to leave, but she's stuck on this ship anyway. might as well enjoy the company she knows she already does. ]
[ andy replies in french, though she doesn't realize it till about halfway through. hers is good too, a level of fluency that comes from centuries of using it and decades with booker. ]
[ she does not want to think about booker. ]
It used to be more of a common language than English.
[ she switches between the languages as seamlessly as natasha, though again she doesn't wholly make the choice to. she's used to just reflecting on what's around her. ]
Maybe not the Algerians. [ they're done having sex, she doesn't need to be charming. ]
Don't think there's anyone left who knows any Arabic anymore, so it'd definitely fit the bill.
[ she is going to miss joe. that much is true, no matter how or when they part. ultimately andy knows she will see him again, but he was a solid comfort here. especially when it came to the situation on ciraiwei. ]
I said it was garbage. I didn't say I don't know any.
[Teasing, though mostly herself. It's strange admitting a weakness, even if it's largely immaterial.
Natasha has made a whole lifestyle out of not showing weakness. Acting like she knows everything, all the time, when she really knows just enough to keep up the front.
Her fingers walk up Andy's abs idly.]
But that's a pretty good reason to learn more. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to impress someone with it down the line?
[ she grins, the kind of expression that would normally precede a laugh. ] Should I have specified outside this room?
[ the soft touch is a surprisingly welcome one, for a woman who wanted to run away from everything at the start of this evening. in some ways, she still does, but natasha's fingertips are grounding. ]
If I start speaking it exclusively, you're bound to improve. Immersion is the easiest.
Just making sure we're clear on the exact level of shit it is.
[A bit playfully, pretending not to notice what she's doing with her hands.
Natasha is usually one to leave by now, shower and find her own bed. But it would appear that despite being a spy, Natasha isn't immune to the charms of a post-coital chat.]
I assume you're speaking from experience. Just wash up on some island and now you're learning English or Japanese.
[ andy is aware of the touch but also not. it's just part of the moment, her mind definitely more scattered than usual tonight. ]
[ in her current state, she might also have preferred leaving and moving on. that had been the point of reaching out to natasha in the first place - a round of fucking then disappearing. but this comforts her too. ]
You have to be around people using it to keep using it with fluency. My best Arabic is Derja now because I always have Joe, and I don't want him to lose it. [ a beat. ] It definitely helps that I'm well-traveled.
I find that the more languages you know, the easier it is to learn more. Probably because you already know similar languages—if you already speak Italian, Spanish and Romania, Portuguese gets pretty easy.
[There's a reason her handlers and teachers had started her with Latin.]
But you also learn how to learn languages.
[If that makes sense.]
At this rate, my Romanian might be a little sad too.
[ she hums idly in agreement. ] There are patterns you pick up on the more you know. It does make it easier.
[ she closes her eyes again, against the feeling of natasha's hand. ] I was alive through Latin's evolution, and I could see the pieces of it in the others as they grew. It was the same for the Iranian languages, even though so many of the old ones have died out now.
Ossetian is probably the closest to Scythian that's left.
Now that's one I don't know. I can manage to get around in Iran with Farsi and Kurdish, but... not where I was expected to be deployed.
[Natasha's expression softens, once again struck by the vastness of Andy's life. Whole languages have come and gone. Not just shifted, not just the change from old to modern English, which in and of itself would be immense but Natasha could wrap her mind around that scale.
But Latin came and went.]
Do you think you'd recognize it, if you heard it again?
I like Farsi. But Ossetian is... different. [ she says it fondly, as much as she can have a fondness for languages. ]
I still remember some Scythian. [ she wonders, briefly, if quỳnh would when this is all finished, if andy manages to get her freed. she had clung to it fiercely for andy, much as she does the same for her brothers' languages. ]
But I couldn't tell you anything about my first language. [ and the admission has her feeling every bit her age again, every line of fatigue in each ancient muscle. ] I don't even think it had a name.
[Natasha's fingers ghost along Andy's collarbone, then going still. She licks her lips, wondering if she shouldn't have left sooner, but she can't say she wants to leave now or that she wishes she weren't here.]
I'm sorry. That must be... I don't know.
[She's been about to say hard, but that seemed like such a platitude in the face of so much loss. She struggles briefly to find something to say that's less shallow, but how can she understand that much time?]
I don't remember my people either. [She tries after her pause, attempting for reciprocity, even if she can't offer sympathy.] Not for the same reason, though. The people who—who trained me took me from my family when I was an infant. I grew up thinking I'd been abandoned. I only found out later that they'd killed my mother and paid off my family. Whoever they were.
[There was no way to know now, no records. The weight of that admission weighs on Natasha and she drops her gaze, wondering if it would have been better not to bring herself into this at all.]
I don't know what it's like to have something like that and lose it, but I suppose... I do understand how it feels not to have a place in the world. Not being able to remember where you're really from.
[And she really is sorry. No one should have to live like that, not for so long.]
[ her eyes are closed as natasha's hand stills, as she offers that sympathy, as she suddenly opens up about her own childhood losses. it makes her feel connected, which is perhaps something she hadn't realized she needed again. she feels a little less inclined to run for the hills. ]
[ unmoored women. it's definitely how andy feels right now, half the reason she sought out natasha for the sex, for that distraction from the listlessness of longevity. ]
I don't remember my mother. I had sisters too. They're just shapes now, sometimes feelings. Knowing it's there and it existed but being unable to find it... living with that knowledge is sometimes worse than what's gone.
[ to be taken as a child and made into a weapon - because andy recognizes that's what natasha is explaining here, she has experience with child soldiers - there's loss in there that doesn't quite match andy's, but it's similar enough. ]
[ unmoored, again, the both of them, looking for tethers to replace the ones lost to time. ]
I'm sorry too. I can go back to the steppe and you can go back to Russia, but it'll never be quite the same.
[It had been so intentional with Red Room, the way they'd been cut off, had their choices taken from them and their identity, their family, everything. An army to fight for a cause, but that would never have a place in the world they'd helped create.
She wonders if it would sting less if hadn't been intentional, or if it was easier when there were people to blame. She'd been the victim of ambitious, greedy, cowardly men. Andy had been the victim of time.]
You can only move forward, right?
[Making an attempt to be philosophical about it.]
Connect who you are now with... I don't know. The people who can still see a little bit of who you were then?
[Natasha wonders if that makes sense. She feels it with Yelena, though, someone who'd been the same place, and who'd known Natasha as someone other than the Black Widow.]
[ it's more echoes between them, places where their lives cross but are just different enough. andy's not sure there is anyone who can really grasp her life, because she's never met a human as old as she is. ]
[ she huffs a laugh, though it's quiet and maybe a little jaded. ] You go forward even when it's dragging you there kicking and screaming.
[ it's hard to have a choice when you can't die. ]
There's no one left who knew me then. There could be something closer, if all this works out - [ she gestures, vaguely, at the station, at the mission and the orbs. ] - but the only thing left of that time is my name and my axe, both of which have changed as much over time as I have.
Joe and Nicky are a few thousand years too late for that. Don't get me wrong - I'm so lucky to have them and I would kill for them both a thousand times over, but they're so young. There are parts of me they just can't grasp yet. [ they're both fast approaching one thousand. it's still so very young. ]
I can't go forward without them, but sometimes I need to go backwards alone.
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[ she snorts, the sound more bitter than amused. she thinks of quỳnh. ] I wouldn't be here if I was always unstoppable.
[ she hums in thought but really the answer is easy. ] The steppe. The Ukok Plateau. [ she mindlessly taps against natasha's hip again. ] What about you?
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But there is a sort of intimacy in this conversation. The kind that comes on missions sometimes, on stakeouts, when you're stuck in a hospital bed beside someone—a little familiarity that makes it easier to open up to someone who's still mostly a stranger.]
Doesn't the fact you're here kind of prove the opposite? Stopped, but not forever?
[Assuming any of this works.
She doesn't linger on the comment though, or try to force more out of Andy on that front.
Beside, turning the question around on her is fair.]
I'm not really sure. I don't think I've ever gone somewhere just because I wanted to. I've always been assigned or running from something, or going somewhere there was trouble.
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Stopped when it mattered most. [ it's hard to feel unstoppable when you're in irons, about to face your sixth or seventh execution in a row. the guilt of quỳnh eats her, no matter how much joe and nicky tried to tell her it wasn't her fault. it's why she stays on this ship, even with joe choosing to go, even with her own desire to flee and get away. ]
[ she lays there in bed, mind roaming like her body can't, drawing a small amount of comfort from the company beside her. ]
Would you go back to anywhere? For the fun of it this time?
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[Natasha shifts slightly, turning her head toward Andy to press her cheek to her shoulder briefly in...sympathy? Companionship?]
Paris, maybe? It's easy to be anonymous there. So many people, and no one asking too many questions. Perfect place find a restaurant and settle in with a bottle of wine.
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[ the touch of her cheek is unexpectedly warm. another comfort of sorts. ]
Is French in your repertoire of languages?
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She's content to be here. Her answer, when she gives it, is in French.]
It is. One of my better ones, I think. Not as good as my English probably, since I was embedded there, but I haven't embarrassed myself yet.
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[ andy replies in french, though she doesn't realize it till about halfway through. hers is good too, a level of fluency that comes from centuries of using it and decades with booker. ]
[ she does not want to think about booker. ]
It used to be more of a common language than English.
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[It's not because the anglo world was dominant to start with.]
It's still useful to know. Plus, some people find it sexy, so there's that.
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[ she switches between the languages as seamlessly as natasha, though again she doesn't wholly make the choice to. she's used to just reflecting on what's around her. ]
Maybe not the Algerians. [ they're done having sex, she doesn't need to be charming. ]
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[She can admit her flaws.]
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[ then she finds herself grinning, fondly. ]
When I first met Joe, we found it easier to communicate in Greek. His Arabic and mine were too different.
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[Playfully, though it does remind her that Joe is gone.]
Never a bad idea to have a few of those.
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[ she is going to miss joe. that much is true, no matter how or when they part. ultimately andy knows she will see him again, but he was a solid comfort here. especially when it came to the situation on ciraiwei. ]
I've got a stockpile I could share for secrets.
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[Teasing, though mostly herself. It's strange admitting a weakness, even if it's largely immaterial.
Natasha has made a whole lifestyle out of not showing weakness. Acting like she knows everything, all the time, when she really knows just enough to keep up the front.
Her fingers walk up Andy's abs idly.]
But that's a pretty good reason to learn more. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to impress someone with it down the line?
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[ the soft touch is a surprisingly welcome one, for a woman who wanted to run away from everything at the start of this evening. in some ways, she still does, but natasha's fingertips are grounding. ]
If I start speaking it exclusively, you're bound to improve. Immersion is the easiest.
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[A bit playfully, pretending not to notice what she's doing with her hands.
Natasha is usually one to leave by now, shower and find her own bed. But it would appear that despite being a spy, Natasha isn't immune to the charms of a post-coital chat.]
I assume you're speaking from experience. Just wash up on some island and now you're learning English or Japanese.
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[ andy is aware of the touch but also not. it's just part of the moment, her mind definitely more scattered than usual tonight. ]
[ in her current state, she might also have preferred leaving and moving on. that had been the point of reaching out to natasha in the first place - a round of fucking then disappearing. but this comforts her too. ]
You have to be around people using it to keep using it with fluency. My best Arabic is Derja now because I always have Joe, and I don't want him to lose it. [ a beat. ] It definitely helps that I'm well-traveled.
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[There's a reason her handlers and teachers had started her with Latin.]
But you also learn how to learn languages.
[If that makes sense.]
At this rate, my Romanian might be a little sad too.
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[ she closes her eyes again, against the feeling of natasha's hand. ] I was alive through Latin's evolution, and I could see the pieces of it in the others as they grew. It was the same for the Iranian languages, even though so many of the old ones have died out now.
Ossetian is probably the closest to Scythian that's left.
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[Natasha's expression softens, once again struck by the vastness of Andy's life. Whole languages have come and gone. Not just shifted, not just the change from old to modern English, which in and of itself would be immense but Natasha could wrap her mind around that scale.
But Latin came and went.]
Do you think you'd recognize it, if you heard it again?
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I still remember some Scythian. [ she wonders, briefly, if quỳnh would when this is all finished, if andy manages to get her freed. she had clung to it fiercely for andy, much as she does the same for her brothers' languages. ]
But I couldn't tell you anything about my first language. [ and the admission has her feeling every bit her age again, every line of fatigue in each ancient muscle. ] I don't even think it had a name.
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I'm sorry. That must be... I don't know.
[She's been about to say hard, but that seemed like such a platitude in the face of so much loss. She struggles briefly to find something to say that's less shallow, but how can she understand that much time?]
I don't remember my people either. [She tries after her pause, attempting for reciprocity, even if she can't offer sympathy.] Not for the same reason, though. The people who—who trained me took me from my family when I was an infant. I grew up thinking I'd been abandoned. I only found out later that they'd killed my mother and paid off my family. Whoever they were.
[There was no way to know now, no records. The weight of that admission weighs on Natasha and she drops her gaze, wondering if it would have been better not to bring herself into this at all.]
I don't know what it's like to have something like that and lose it, but I suppose... I do understand how it feels not to have a place in the world. Not being able to remember where you're really from.
[And she really is sorry. No one should have to live like that, not for so long.]
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[ unmoored women. it's definitely how andy feels right now, half the reason she sought out natasha for the sex, for that distraction from the listlessness of longevity. ]
I don't remember my mother. I had sisters too. They're just shapes now, sometimes feelings. Knowing it's there and it existed but being unable to find it... living with that knowledge is sometimes worse than what's gone.
[ to be taken as a child and made into a weapon - because andy recognizes that's what natasha is explaining here, she has experience with child soldiers - there's loss in there that doesn't quite match andy's, but it's similar enough. ]
[ unmoored, again, the both of them, looking for tethers to replace the ones lost to time. ]
I'm sorry too. I can go back to the steppe and you can go back to Russia, but it'll never be quite the same.
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She wonders if it would sting less if hadn't been intentional, or if it was easier when there were people to blame. She'd been the victim of ambitious, greedy, cowardly men. Andy had been the victim of time.]
You can only move forward, right?
[Making an attempt to be philosophical about it.]
Connect who you are now with... I don't know. The people who can still see a little bit of who you were then?
[Natasha wonders if that makes sense. She feels it with Yelena, though, someone who'd been the same place, and who'd known Natasha as someone other than the Black Widow.]
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[ she huffs a laugh, though it's quiet and maybe a little jaded. ] You go forward even when it's dragging you there kicking and screaming.
[ it's hard to have a choice when you can't die. ]
There's no one left who knew me then. There could be something closer, if all this works out - [ she gestures, vaguely, at the station, at the mission and the orbs. ] - but the only thing left of that time is my name and my axe, both of which have changed as much over time as I have.
Joe and Nicky are a few thousand years too late for that. Don't get me wrong - I'm so lucky to have them and I would kill for them both a thousand times over, but they're so young. There are parts of me they just can't grasp yet. [ they're both fast approaching one thousand. it's still so very young. ]
I can't go forward without them, but sometimes I need to go backwards alone.
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