New York City hadn't changed.
Still loud.
Still moving.
Still full of people going somewhere.
But Lucas wasn't watching the city anymore.
He was watching her.
Natasha Romanoff walked beside him, same pace, same rhythm as before.
Nothing in her movements gave anything away.
If anything—
She was more natural now.
More relaxed.
"So," Natasha said, light, easy, "you've been here what… a day?"
"Something like that."
"And already figuring things out."
"I'm trying."
She nodded slightly.
"I can tell."
They turned down another street.
Quieter.
Less crowded.
Better for talking.
"So where'd you learn to do that?" she asked.
Lucas glanced at her.
"Do what?"
"Read people," she said. "You're good at it."
He gave a small, thoughtful look.
"…I've had practice."
"I bet," she said.
A beat.
"…Long time?"
"Yes."
That answer was simple.
But she didn't push right away.
She let it breathe.
That—
Was intentional.
Lucas noticed that too.
They walked a few more steps.
Then—
"You don't talk about where you're from much," she said.
Not pressing.
Just placing it there.
Lucas looked ahead.
"…There's not much point."
"You don't think I'd understand?"
He gave a faint smile.
"…No."
That earned a small one from her.
"Fair."
She adjusted slightly, matching his pace again as they crossed the street.
"And the name," she added casually. "Lucas Trowman."
He didn't react.
Not outwardly.
"You chose that carefully," she continued.
"I did."
"Why that one?"
A pause.
Not long.
"…He mattered," Lucas said.
Natasha nodded once.
"Yeah," she said. "I figured."
No push.
No follow-up.
Just—
Acknowledgment.
That was clean.
Professional.
Lucas noticed that too.
They walked in silence for a few seconds.
Then—
"…You're very consistent," he said.
Natasha glanced at him.
"That a compliment?"
"…It can be."
A small smile.
"I'll take it."
Lucas looked ahead again.
"…You don't miss much," she added.
"Neither do you."
That—
Was true.
She didn't deny it.
They passed another corner.
Traffic moved.
People shifted around them.
Everything normal.
"…You've asked about where I'm from," Lucas said after a moment.
Natasha nodded.
"I have."
"…You've asked about my name."
"Also true."
"…What I want."
"Still figuring that one out," she said lightly.
Lucas gave a faint breath.
"…And every time, you let the answer sit."
Natasha looked at him.
"…That's usually how conversations work."
"…Not like this."
That—
Was the first shift.
Small.
But real.
She didn't stop walking.
Didn't tense.
"…What do you mean?" she asked.
Lucas turned his head slightly toward her.
"…You don't follow curiosity," he said. "You follow direction."
A pause.
Not awkward.
Measured.
"…That's an interesting way to put it," she said.
"It's accurate."
She held his gaze for half a second longer.
Then looked ahead again.
"…And what does that tell you?" she asked.
Lucas didn't answer right away.
They walked another few steps.
"…That you already know what you're looking for," he said.
"Maybe I do."
"…And that you're not the only one deciding what matters."
That—
Was it.
Not an accusation.
Not a callout.
Just—
Placed.
Natasha slowed slightly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Just enough for him.
"…You think I'm not alone in this," she said.
Lucas met her eyes.
"…I think you're too precise to be guessing."
A small silence.
Then—
"…You're good," she said quietly.
"Yeah," he replied.
No arrogance.
Just agreement.
They stopped at the corner.
The light hadn't changed yet.
People gathered around them.
"…Does that bother you?" she asked.
Lucas considered that.
"…No."
That answer came easily.
"…You're still talking to me," he added.
She let out a small breath.
"…That's true."
"…And I'm still learning."
That mattered more to him.
Another pause.
Then—
"…So what happens now?" Natasha asked.
Lucas stepped back slightly.
Not leaving yet.
Just creating space.
"…Now it ends," he said.
Simple.
Clear.
She nodded once.
No resistance.
No attempt to pull him back in.
Professional to the end.
"…You got what you needed?" she asked.
"…Enough."
"And me?"
Lucas looked at her.
"…You'll figure out what matters."
That answer stayed consistent.
Balanced.
She held his gaze.
"…You're not worried?"
"…No."
"Why not?"
A faint smile.
"…Because you're not the only one paying attention."
That—
Was new.
Natasha caught it immediately.
"…That sounds like a warning."
"It's not."
A pause.
"…Just an observation."
The light changed.
People started moving.
Lucas stepped back into the flow.
Not rushed.
Not hidden.
Just—
Gone.
Natasha didn't follow.
Didn't call out.
Didn't break composure.
In her ear, a voice finally came through.
"Romanoff."
She didn't answer immediately.
Her eyes stayed on the space he had just occupied.
"…Yeah," she said quietly.
"Status?"
A small pause.
"…He knew," she said.
Silence on the other end.
"…How much?"
Natasha exhaled slowly.
"…Enough."
Another pause.
"…And he let it happen."
That—
Was the part that mattered.