Romanoff pushed her plate away and let out a deeply satisfied, but very unrefined, belch. She kicked off her fuzzy slippers, squinted her eyes, and whispered something into Solomon's ear. Then, with complete ease, she lay down across his lap and closed her eyes in contentment. She could feel the freshly grown, springy grass tickling her hair, smell the fragrance of greenery and earth, and sense the warm sunlight filtering through the leaves above. Dappled shadows danced on her eyelids, as if she were lying on a quiet meadow beside a brook on a lazy afternoon, her head nestled into the soft grass, drifting off to the gentle breeze that kissed her lashes.
She couldn't help but smile. With his permission, she cautiously opened her eyes.
What met her gaze wasn't a drab apartment with plain-colored furniture but a glittering little creek. Her bicycle lay toppled nearby, and deep green walnut leaves rustled overhead. She looked down and saw herself wearing shorts, with a bandage on her knee. "Is this your memory?" the arcane sorcerer said softly. Romanoff had never found his voice so pleasing—not even when he brought her pleasure. The warm timbre of sunlight in his words now surpassed the low, growling purr she'd once felt against his chest. Wherever she looked, Solomon saw it too, because she had opened her mind completely to him for the casting of the spell.
What annoyed her, however, was that Solomon still kept his mind closed. According to him, exposing it would drive her mad—because his mind held things no ordinary person could comprehend. That, he said, was the price of magic. For now, Natasha accepted that excuse.
"Judging by the flora and fauna, I'd say this is probably Ohio..."
"Don't ruin it, Solomon. Don't kill the mood," Romanoff murmured. Her cheeks felt sun-warmed, tiny beads of sweat forming on her skin. "That's not the way to get a girl to like you."
"I don't think I need to," he replied. "After all, you're already here with me, aren't you?"
"Wow! You learn fast, little boy." She laughed aloud, not realizing her voice had become higher and younger. She stretched her arms overhead, relaxing fully in the grass. Silence fell between them. Romanoff quietly took in the scenery, knowing Solomon was beside her—even if she couldn't see him, she could reach out and touch him. After a while, she spoke again. "Thank you. Not just for the best meatball spaghetti I've ever had, but for this magic, too. Really. I'd like to add one condition."
"Hm?" Solomon tilted his tone, curious.
Fearing he might decline, she rushed to explain. "Instead of fancy restaurants or busy cafeterias, I prefer sitting on the couch eating while watching TV. So here's my condition. Solomon, can you cook for me every time you visit? I'm not nearly as good in the kitchen as you."
"I'll do my best to fulfill your wish, Natasha." His voice tickled her ear, making it itch. She closed her eyes, tilted her head upward, and reached for another kiss. She inhaled the scent of aftershave, mint toothpaste, and navy cigarettes. She could easily identify the brands—she'd chosen them herself. After Solomon's last visit, she had rushed to buy a slew of household items and picked the ones most suited to him—even cigarettes. Overnight, the apartment had become full of life. She hadn't even wanted him to clean the frying pan in the sink.
"And your answer?" she raised an eyebrow, full of confidence.
"Yes."
"My good boy," she said with a grin. "Let's get some proper rest."
Agent Natasha Romanoff returned to work full of energy.
She wore a smile that even Agent Maria Hill found surprising. Since Steve Rogers and Tony Stark had returned to the new Avengers base, the two had locked themselves in a room and had a heated argument. No one knew what it was about, only that it had been loud—Captain Rogers had accused Stark of chasing a childish hero fantasy, and Stark had fired back, calling Rogers a cowardly old man. They ended up in a fistfight, only reaching a temporary truce after Falcon helped them cool off with some whiskey. Agents with partial knowledge could only speculate that the fight was related to their recent disappearance, as many members of their elite ops team had never returned. Everyone in the base was affected by the tension—except Natasha Romanoff.
"What happened?" Agent Hill approached her.
The white corridor, sleek with modern architecture, gave off a cold, sterile feeling. The overhead lights felt like swords poised to stab into one's eyes. Hill had long requested the chandelier fixtures be removed, but the budget had stalled with Stark's financial department—because Stark was barely working these days and hadn't spoken with Pepper Potts either.
That deeply troubled Nick Fury. He hadn't expected things to get worse after Stark came back.
"What?"
"You know what I'm asking, Natasha," Hill followed her into the locker room, hugging her tablet and scowling. "I want to know what else Solomon revealed. I'm not asking as an agent. I'm asking as a friend. Do you really want to watch the Avengers fall apart?"
"They're undergoing an ideological transformation, Maria," Romanoff said while putting on her uniform, ready for the day's training. "They'll be fine. Fights always end eventually. Right now, they're just reflecting on the past. Don't tell me Stark Industries has nothing to do with the Rockefellers, the Hiltons, or the Epstein scandal. You all know everything."
"We do," Hill nodded. "That data's been open to you, but you never looked. S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't interfere in the affairs of the elite—politicians or billionaires. Even if they're breaking the law, it's not our concern. S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have the bandwidth to handle such trivial matters."
"I know," Romanoff replied. "I'm not a spy anymore, Maria. Not anymore."
"What did he promise you?" Hill blinked, then suddenly realized something. Romanoff rarely saw her make that face—perhaps Hill just wasn't meant to open her mouth that wide, because she looked downright silly. "You don't have to say it. I think I get it. If that's true, then… all I can do is wish you well, Natasha."
"It's not as simple as you think, Maria. Technically speaking, this is very complicated," Romanoff said, still smiling. "It's just a possibility. But I think… this is already good enough."
"Is he planning to come here?" Hill changed the subject. "He caused this mess, after all."
"He has things to do. Word is, he recently received a terrifying prophecy. He's taking a team to verify it."
"Victoria Hand?" Hill squinted. Compared to other agents, she knew exactly what had happened aboard the airborne carrier. Nick Fury had kept no secrets from her. "She's not exactly gentle with the agents. I don't know how Solomon recruited her—she's too perfect for cold-blooded missions. It's like the role was made for her. Did Solomon mention what the prophecy was about?"
"No," Natasha shook her head. "Only that it involved magic."
"Then I'd better prepare for a few thousand casualties—just like a few days ago."
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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