The approach had been clean.
She had been in the neighbourhood for four days before making contact, long enough to establish a pattern of presence without registering as surveillance.
The coffee shop had been selected specifically because he frequented it, and also because it was an empty enough place that she could control the encounter.
Everything had been perfect.
Right up until everyone in the room hit the floor simultaneously.
It happened without warning. She hadn't noticed anything off, no gas, no sound, nothing that could be called a delivery mechanism. The two other patrons and the staff simply dropped.
It took her half a second to register what had happened around her, after which she got to her feet and instantly pulled her weapon out towards him.
He, on the other hand, had activated his... eyes, and was now looking at her with an appraising gaze.
"Nat, what the hell happened in there?" Barton's voice came through her hidden earpiece.
"Stand by," she said, keeping her eyes and weapon fixed on the man in front of her.
He didn't seem concerned in the slightest at her usage of an earpiece; rather, he seemed amused.
Barton remained after her response, knowing that any further conversation would only divide her attention.
"So," he began with an unbothered tone, "What would you like me to call you?"
She said nothing.
"Black Widow? Natalie Rushmann?"
Her jaw tightened slightly. He knew her identity, even the last name of her fake identity that she hadn't yet revealed.
"Natasha Romanov?"
She had been made before; it happened. What mattered now was the aftermath.
She was about to open her mouth before he began again. He tilted his head and spoke with a slight smile.
"Or maybe, Natalia Alianovna Romanova."
The name landed like a bombshell.
She didn't move, she didn't let anything reach her face. Over a decade of conditioning in the red room held true.
But underneath it, something cold moved through her chest.
It was the same thing that had happened with Clint.
That name did not exist in any file she was aware of. It didn't exist in S.H.I.E.L.D. 's records, and it hadn't been spoken aloud to her in years, not by anyone.
It was not a name that someone could just 'obtain' by having a mole in S.H.I.E.L.D., or anything of that sort.
His smile widened, as if she had done exactly as he wanted.
"For the record," his voice was light and pleasant, "you can just call me Varis."
Her gun didn't waver.
"Nat. Do you need me to come in?" Barton's voice rang quietly in her ear.
"No."
"Nat-"
"Hold position."
Silence from the earpiece.
She returned her attention to the man in front of her, analysing him intently.
He was sitting completely relaxed whilst having a gun pointed at his face, demonstrating no signs of stress whatsoever.
His pupils hadn't dilated, his breathing hadn't changed, and he hadn't shifted his posture in the slightest.
Right now, he wasn't pretending to be calm.
No, he actually was calm. He didn't think he was in danger.
She made a decision.
She lowered the gun. Not the whole way, but enough to signal that she was willing to have a conversation rather than a standoff.
He nodded his head slightly.
"How do you know that name?" She asked her most pressing question at the moment, though her voice remained level and steady.
"Which one?" He shrugged his shoulders.
"You know which one."
"Sit down. I can't really converse comfortably when you're still pointing a gun at me."
She stared at him.
"Really, I'll answer your questions if you sit down. Dreykov, the Red Room, the sterilisation.... your sister Yelena. I know a lot of things."
The words hit in sequence, each one landing in a different place.
Dreykov. The Red Room. The sterilisation.
Yelena.
She sat down.
Not because she had decided to do so, but because her legs had done so before her mind had caught up with his words. An instinctive, uncontrolled reaction, something that she hadn't done in a very long time.
The gun remained in her hand, resting on the table, pointing at him.
He seemed to find that reasonable enough.
"Nat." Barton's voice came through again.
"I'm fine." She responded immediately.
"You don't sound fi-"
"I'm fine, so keep holding."
The earpiece went quiet again.
Across the table, Varis had picked his coffee back up as if the last two minutes had been entirely unremarkable to him. He stared out the window as if the passing cars were a more interesting sight.
"Probably have a few questions, yeah?" He stated the obvious.
"Several. Starting with how."
"How I know what I know?"
"Yes."
He looked at her with an expression she couldn't fully categorise.
"That's one question I won't be answering today, so let's move on." His tone left no room for argument.
She held his ominous gaze.
"Then, what will you answer?"
He leaned back in his chair, seeming to consider what he should say next.
"Yelena is alive, if that's one of the things you're wondering about right now."
She released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. Naturally, she recovered instantly, smoothing her expression back into perfect neutrality.
The comma in his eye spun lazily, a trait she couldn't analyse the meaning behind.
"She's still with the Red Room... But she's alive." His voice was direct.
Natasha said nothing; if she did, she would only reveal more things she didn't want spoken.
"I'm not necessarily your enemy, you know? The thing with Barton really was a bluff, I wouldn't do something like that to children."
"You threatened them by name. Children"
"I know," He didn't deny her words. "Probably wasn't my best idea, but I needed Barton to stand down, and it worked."
She considered his words.
It wouldn't make sense for her to accuse him with some sort of righteousness. She herself had done considerably worse for far less justifiable reasons and lived with it.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was the same.
"What do you want?" She moved the conversation to somewhere more useful.
"Right now? Well, I'd like S.H.I.E.L.D. to leave me alone, first and foremost."
"That's not a fair ask given what you've done and demonstrated."
He stared at her with a look of slight annoyance before speaking.
"What I've demonstrated, huh? What, does S.H.I.E.L.D. want me to become a weapon for them?"
His smile had returned, clearly, he was enjoying the situation to some extent.
"The people above me have their own ideas about what to do with individuals like you," she said, keeping it deliberately vague.
"Your director, I'm guessing?"
She took a moment to think, deciding to test him.
"Fury."
His eyes didn't flicker in the slightest.
"Yeah," he agreed simply. "A guy like him won't leave me alone regardless of what I want, right?"
He had just demonstrated casually that he knew Nick Fury by name. The classified director of a classified organisation whose name did not appear in a single public record worldwide.
The report she would write tonight would no doubt be endless.
"That conversation is above my current authorisation," she said carefully.
He nodded, unsurprised, before standing up.
She immediately reacted, meeting his stance and aiming once more.
"Listen. I'd say I've been pretty gracious in my actions up until now, but that won't continue if you tail me like this. If you aren't authorised to talk about your boss's ideas, then just bring him here yourself. I'll be around." He began making his way out of the store.
Natasha was halfway through deciding whether to follow or not when she stopped, realising something was wrong.
He was still walking, relaxed in pace, but in the three steps he had taken towards the exit, his silhouette had changed.
His jacket, which had fit him cleanly when he walked in, was now visibly straining across the shoulders.
And he was taller.
Not dramatically so, but enough that it was immediately noticeable to her trained eye.
Two inches, perhaps slightly more.
He didn't slow down, not at all reacting to the fact that his body had... grown.
The first thing that came to Natasha's mind was whether he also held the ability to transform. The kind of monstrous transformation a certain gamma scientist possessed.
He pushed the door and stepped out into the street.
"Nat, you want me to follow?"
She stood still, eyes on the door.
"No."
She holstered her weapon.
"Get the car. We need to call Fury."