She left the room, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving Natasha alone on the floor, breathing heavily as she leaned against the wall as the nausea slowly ebbed. Her stomach calmed, but her chest felt heavier with every second. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the memory wouldn't loosen its grip. It clung to her like a scar that had etched itself to her very soull.
Mark...
Her reflection in the mirror wavered, her own face blurred by tears she hadn't noticed falling. She tried to force herself to look away, but the past pulled her back.
*Flashback*
Natalie sat stiffly on the edge of Mark's couch in his Harlem apartment, her knees pressed together, her fingers laced tightly in her lap. This was the night. She had told Luke that she was going to tell Mark the truth and tonight was finally the night she was going to do it. She didn't want to. She didn't want this to end. Even now her mind was concocting ways in which she could try and lie or manipulate; all in an effort to keep this amazing thing she found by chance.
She looked over to the other side of the apartment. Mark moved around the small kitchen, humming under his breath as he poured two glasses of wine. He was relaxed, barefoot, his shirt untucked and his hair messy—just how she liked it. He looked at home, at ease, the way she had grown to love him most.
"Red or white?" he asked, flashing her a grin.
"Red's fine," she murmured. Quieter than she meant, her throat was dry... as if even her own body didn't want her speaking.
He brought the glasses over, setting one in front of her before dropping onto the couch beside her. The cushions shifted, his shoulder brushing hers, his warmth seeping into her like it always did. He leaned back, one arm slung casually across the back of the couch.
"You're quiet tonight," he said softly. "That's not like you."
She forced a small smile. "Just tired."
Mark studied her face for a moment, then grinned again, trying to lighten the air. "Then it's a good thing I was planning to surprise you. I've been thinking about a trip. Somewhere far, I was thinking maybe Greece or anywhere on the Mediterranean. Just you and me."
Before she could respond, he stood suddenly, pulled her up, and spun her in a circle. She laughed despite the pain in her chest, clinging to his shoulders, her hair brushing his cheek.
"Picture it," he said, lowering her slowly until their foreheads touched. "Sunset on a beach. Drinks with umbrellas. Drinking sex on the beach while having sex on the beach, if you ask now I'm sure you could get some time off."
He kissed her then, and for a moment she almost let herself drown in it, to let the lie stretch just a little longer. Her hands cupped his face, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. But the words she'd buried pressed harder against her ribs. She broke the kiss, her lips trembling. "Mark, wait. Please... we need to talk."
He blinked, still smiling faintly. "Alright. Serious talk time." He flopped back onto the couch, patting the space beside him. "What's up?"
Her hands shook as she sat again. She clasped them together, pressing them so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She couldn't even look at him. She was an Agent of Shield for gods sake why was this so hard! "Mark," she whispered. "My name isn't Natalie Roma."
He chuckled going along with the joke. "Okay... so what, you've been lying about your last name? Are you secretly royalty or something?"
She looked up, and the tears already in her eyes told him it wasn't a joke. His smile faltered.
"My name is Natasha Romanoff," she said, her voice much calmer now only because if it wavered, she'd never get it out. "I work for an organization called SHIELD."
The room seemed to freeze. Mark's expression went blank, as if the words hadn't made sense.
Natasha forced herself to keep going. "They noticed you after the Stark Expo. The things you did. The strength. The speed, your ability to fly. They assigned me to you. To watch you. To figure out what you are, what you can do, if you were dangerous."
The glass in Mark's hand tilted, spilling wine onto the carpet, but he didn't seem to notice. He just stared at her like he was a statue.
"I didn't plan this," she said quickly, the panic rising in her voice. "I didn't plan to care about you. But I did. I do. Mark, I swear—"
He stood up so fast the couch shifted under her. He dragged both hands over his face, pacing across the living room, muttering under his breath. "No. No, this isn't real. Tell me this isn't real."
"Mark, please—"
"Don't," he snapped, spinning to face her, his hand up like a shield. His voice cracked with the effort to stay calm. "Don't say my name like that...."
He paced around for a few seconds, his breathing seemingly getting more ragged. "It was all a lie... all of it, you lied to me..."
She stood too, reaching out despite the warning in his eyes. "It wasn't all a lie. What I felt... it was real. Every moment we spent together I—"
"Was it?" His voice was louder now, breaking as his chest heaved. "Because when I look back, it all makes sense now... everything you did to get close to me. You smiling at me, you laughing at my stupid jokes, you telling me you loved me! God, was all of that just your special training? Was I just a file you had to update every night?"
Tears streaked her face. "No. I changed. You changed me. I fell in love with you, Mark. I didn't expect it, but it happened... I love you."
He slammed his fist against the wall, hard enough to crack the wall. She flinched. He turned away, his shoulders shaking looking guilty for scaring her. "You were in my bed, we made love... And the whole time you were writing reports for someone else to read. Do you know what that feels like? To know I opened myself up, told you things I've never told anyone, and you were just collecting data?"
"I stopped reporting everything," she whispered, almost choking on the words. "After a while I couldn't. I kept things back. I tried to protect you. I didn't want them to use you."
He let out a bitter laugh, wiping at his eyes. "Now you're protecting me? Now you're telling the truth? Where the hell was this honesty months ago? You could've told me any day, Natasha. Any night. Instead you waited... and for what? Why did you wait?"
Natasha looked down at her feet. "It was Luke..." she mumbled.
"What?" Mark said.
"Luke found out about me, he gave me an ultimatum of telling you or he would do it himself... but I promise Mark I would've told you eventually! I would've!" She said trying to reach out for him.
Mark shook his head. "I guess I have Luke to thank for showing your true colour." He turned away.
She stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached for him again. "I'll leave SHIELD. I'll walk away from all of it. I just don't want to lose you."
Mark turned, his face twisted with hurt so raw it hollowed her out. "You already did. You lost me the moment you chose to lie every day we were together." His voice broke slightly. "I trusted you. More than anyone. And you burned that to the ground."
Her chest caved in at his words. She tried again, desperate, her voice shaking. "Please, Mark. Don't shut me out. Don't let this be the end."
He stood there for a long moment, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his breath coming in shuddering pulls. Finally he shook his head. "I can't do this. I can't look at you and not see this thing... please leave, just please get out of here..."
Her vision blurred, her body trembling so hard she thought her knees might give out. She forced herself to nod. "I'll give you that... I am sorry I hurt you..."
He didn't answer. He turned his back, staring out the window at the wash of city lights, his reflection faint in the glass.Natasha lingered, her hand on the door, her heart screaming to fight harder. But she knew she couldn't win tonight. Her voice broke on the words as she whispered them into the quiet. "I love you."
The door clicked shut behind her.
*Flashback End*
Back in the bathroom, Natasha gripped the sink as the memory faded, her knuckles white, her reflection unrecognizable in the blurred mirror. She splashed cold water on her face, but it did nothing to wash away the ache inside her. She hadn't lost him to death or danger. She had lost him to herself. To her choices. And now SHIELD was pulling her off the assignment, making it that much harder to be with him.
"I'll find a way..." she whispered to herself.
_____________________________________
'So... here's the thing,'
'I've been... seeing people. Darcy. Colleen. Trisha. And when I say seeing, I mean... yeah, sleeping with them too. Not all together in like a four way? Five way?. But at different times.'
'At first it felt fine. No strings, just fun. But the longer it goes on... the more it feels wrong. Like I'm lying. Even if technically I'm not. They're my friends, and it's not like they can't see other people either... it just never comes up.'
They're my friends though and I don't want to lie even if by omission... I don't want to lose them.'
'So what do I do? Do I tell them? Be honest and tell them all about each other? Do I stop having sex with them and just stay friends?'
'I don't know. What do you think?'
A second of silence. Two. Then a voice answered, cutting across his thoughts.
'No offence, Mark, but the reason I had you haul me up here wasn't so you could dump your teenage soap opera on me. Which, I'll admit, I am extremely jealous of.'
Mark's eyes flicked sideways floating next to him above planet earth was Tony Stark, inside one of his Iron Man suits. Though this one was much more bulkier than they usually were; a design Tony mentioned was made for space walking.
Tony had contacted Mark and asked if he could fly him up here as he had lost contact with one of his important satellites. While he could've gotten up here himself it was much easier to ask him and Mark wasn't going to ignore a chance to get a favour from Tony. It also gave Mark a chance to get some perspective from someone who wasn't Luke or Jessica, both of whom who have as little experience in love as they do in living normal existences.
Mark folded his arms and gave him a light shrug. 'You're a known womanizer. I figured you might have some advice.'
'Advice?' His metal-clad fingers adjusted a circuit board as he replied. 'Kid, my advice is simple. Hit it and quit it. You'll save yourself a lot of late-night heart-to-hearts and whining about "feelings."'
Mark rolled his eyes. 'That's... terrible advice.'
'Hey, it worked for me. For years.' Tony twisted a panel back into place, his thrusters adjusting to keep him steady. 'Though in fairness, most of those women didn't want to see me again anyway. Saves you the trouble of awkward phone calls.'
Mark sighed, drifting a little closer, his arms still crossed. 'That's exactly what I don't want. They're not strangers. They're people I care about. Friends. While it's been fun doing the other stuff it's not worth it if it ends up upsetting everyone, I don't want to wreck our friendships.'
'So don't wreck it. Simple. Pick one, cut the others loose. Standard play.'
'I can't just pick one,' Mark shot back 'I'm not really looking for a relationship at the moment... I'm still not over... yeah I'm just not looking for one. So what do I do?'
'Grow a backbone and do it anyway,' Tony replied. 'Trust me, it's less painful than stringing them all along until it blows up in your face.'
Mark scowled, drifting until he was upside down compared to Tony. 'I don't want to string anyone along. That's why I'm asking you.'
Tony chuckled in his head, the sound dry as dust. 'You're asking the guy who once juggled a Vanity Fair reporter and a Maxim model in the same week. Kid, you might as well be asking Hulk for fashion tips.'
Mark smirked despite himself, but it faded quickly. 'So you're saying I should tell them. All of them. Be honest.'
Tony finished soldering a connection, flicked his wrist, and watched the diagnostic lights on the satellite flicker to green. 'What I'm saying is, if you want to keep them as friends, stop sleeping with them. You're not built for casual. You're not me. Boy Scout like you... more than one woman would tear you apart.'
Mark sighed . 'And if I tell them the truth, and I lose them anyway?'
'Then at least you didn't lie.'
Mark was silent, staring down at the planet turning slowly below. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Only the faint sparks from Tony's work broke the stillness. Finally Mark breathed out in annoyance. 'I hate that you're probably right.'
'Of course I'm right,' Tony replied smugly. He tapped the satellite, checking it was stable, and turned back toward Mark. His visor caught the sunlight. 'I am quite literally one of the smartest men in the world, why would t you want my advice.'
Mark gave him a flat look. 'Don't flatter yourself.'
'Kid, if I didn't flatter myself, who would?' Tony fired a short burst from his thrusters, drifting toward the next section of the satellite. 'Now quit brooding and hold the panel steady while I finish this. And for God's sake, stop thinking about your love life while we're six hundred miles above the planet. It's making me nauseous.'
Mark glanced at the tangle of open panels and dangling wires. 'How'd you even lose connection to this thing in the first place?'
'That's what I'm trying to find out,' Tony said, his gauntlet laser flicking against a circuit. The diagnostic lights blinked red, then green, then back to red, a stuttering pattern that didn't seem to changed.
Mark tilted his head while he watched, his mind already deconstructing the piece of technology. 'Looks like someone's messed with it.'
Tony didn't look up. 'Don't start with the conspiracy theories, kid. Satellites glitch. It happens. Weather, radiation, random space junk, it's a crapshoot.' But his tone carried a flicker of doubt, as if even he wasn't sure.
'I could help,' Mark offered.
That got Tony to scoff out loud in his mind. 'What do you know about this kind of tech? Your idea of fixing things is punching them until they stop moving.'
Mark smirked. 'I'm sure I know one or two things.'
Tony snorted, shaking his helmet slightly. 'Yeah, sure. Next you'll tell me you're secretly an MIT grad. Look, no offense, but the day I need muscle-brain help on satellite software is the day I hang up the suit.'
Mark chuckled, letting the comment slide.
Tony leaned closer to the circuit board, his thrusters humming faintly as he adjusted the wiring. The red lights flickered to amber, then to green, staying that way this time. He nodded to himself. 'Nearly finished up anyway. Give me a minute and we'll be good to head back down.'
Mark drifted lazily beside the satellite, his arms folded. 'You sure you don't want to make a detour to the moon first? Not every day you get a ride like this.'
'I'm good,' Tony replied flatly. 'No booze, no Pepper, no tech to tinker with. Moon might as well be the desert. Hard pass.'
Mark rolled his eyes. 'Fine. Be a killjoy.'
Tony flicked his wrist and the last panel locked into place. The diagnostic lights pulsed steady green, the satellite realigning its dish toward Earth. 'And just like that she's alive. Satellite's back online. God, I'm good.'
'Congratulations,' Mark said dryly.
'Save it. Let's get out of here.'
Mark hooked an arm under Tony, adjusting his hold before angling toward Earth. Tony's thought-voice went up half an octave. 'Seriously? You have to carry me like a damn princess?'
'Unless you want to burn up on reentry,' Mark replied. He tightened his grip and surged forward.
The planet expanded beneath them, the blue curve swelling as they plunged faster. The upper atmosphere caught them, friction blooming in streaks of flame. Tony screamed the entire way down.
'Jesus Christ, this is insane! Do you have to go this fast? Do you have any idea what reentry turbulence feels like in this suit?'
'You're fine,' Mark said calmly, his face deadpan even as the air tore in flaming arcs around them.
'Fine? I'm being carried bridal-style by a super-powered mutant through a fireball at Mach whatever-the-hell, we have very different definitions of fine!'
They broke through the flames into clean air, clouds rushing beneath them. Mark leveled out, holding Tony steady as the turbulence eased. Tony exhaled hard, then flicked a switch on his gauntlet. His thrusters adjusted pitch, the bulk of his suit shifting. 'Alright, space mode off. I've got it from here.' Mark released him, hovering back as Tony caught himself and floated next to him.
Tony gave a little shake of his helmet. 'You know, I'd have felt a hell of a lot cooler if I wasn't just carried halfway across the stratosphere like Snow White waiting for her prince.'
Mark smirked. 'You looked adorable.'
'Bite me.' Tony steadied his altitude, then angled slightly toward the city skyline in the distance. 'Thanks for the lift though, Mark. And seriously swing by sometime. My doors are always open.'
Mark nodded. 'Will do.'
With that, they split paths, Tony banking toward his Malibu House while Mark cut a different line through the clouds. Mark cut across the Atlantic in minutes, the roar of the wind carrying his laughter with it. He pushed faster, testing himself, the air splitting in a thunderous crack as he broke the sound barrier again. The coastline of Italy spread out beneath him, sun-washed and golden, until he slowed his descent and dropped gently onto the cobbled street just outside a corner pizzeria.
(AN: Tony taking advantage of his Viltrumite connections. Cause if you can save a few million in flight costs why wouldn't ya.)
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