(Attendance please…)
….
The atmosphere in the safe room was stifling.
Natasha paced the length of the room, maintaining a constant, low-level stream of communication with outside security. So, Natasha and Gojo decided to stay put and protect the Wakandan royals until the outside were confirmed to be safe.
The tense silence of the room was suddenly shattered by a cheerful, highly inappropriate sound.
"WHEEEEE! … CRASH. Oink, oink."
Natasha stopped pacing. She turned her head slowly.
Gojo was slumped bonelessly in a chair across from the King and Prince. His long legs were stretched out, crossed at the ankles. He was furiously tapping the screen of his StarkPhone, completely oblivious to the geopolitical crisis unfolding around him.
"Satoru," Natasha said, her voice dropping an octave into a tone that usually made grown men sweat. "What are you doing?"
"I'm throwing suicidal birds at green pigs," Gojo replied, not looking up. "They're laughing at me. It's insulting. I have to destroy their little wooden towers. "
"So, you are playing a mobile game."
"You could say that."
"I am saying that. Because you are playing a game in a lockdown room."
"Boom! Ha!" Gojo grinned, finally pocketing the phone. "Got 'em. Level cleared." He clapped his hands together, his demeanor shifting instantly or he atleast trying to. "Alright! So, what's the word on the street, Nat? Everything cleared up outside?"
Natasha let out a long, slow breath through her nose. Deflection or not, everyone in the room wanted an update.
T'Challa looked up from his father. "Ms. Romanoff? Is the building secure? Have they found the perpetrator?"
Natasha pressed a finger to her earpiece, listening intently for a moment. She gave a curt nod and lowered her hand, turning to face King T'Chaka.
"The building has been officially cleared," Natasha reported. "Security has finished their final sweeps. As for the suspect... I apologize, Your Highness. They haven't apprehended anyone. Just as Gojo predicted, the shot was fired from an extreme distance, and the sniper abandoned the nest immediately. But we are processing the area to find the location and then cross-referencing all traffic cameras in a five-mile radius to get the culprit"
King T'Chaka offered a gracious, tired smile. "You do not need to apologize to me, Ms. Romanoff. I am sitting here breathing solely because of your associate."
The King turned his eyes to Gojo. "If not for you, Mr. Satoru, I shudder to think of the tragedy that would have befallen this assembly today. Instead of demanding apologies from security or you, I offer you my deepest gratitude. Wakanda is in your debt, and I will ensure that grace is repaid."
Natasha inclined her head respectfully. "It is what any of us would have done, Your Highness. It would be rude to refuse the gratitude of a king, so I humbly accept your thanks on our behalf."
Gojo lowered his sunglasses slightly, peering over the dark rims at Natasha. "Uh, excuse me? Shouldn't you be thanking me too? You just scored massive political brownie points with the King of Wakanda because my hands are incredibly fast. A little 'Thank you, Satoru, you're the best' wouldn't kill you."
Natasha stared at him with dead, flat eyes for three seconds. Then, she turned her back to him entirely, addressing the royals. "The transport conveys have been secured. I will personally escort you to your vehicles."
"Hey!" Gojo said with an offended scowl on his face. "Did you just completely ignore me to change the subject? The disrespect is real!"
Natasha didn't even acknowledge him as she pushed open the heavy door, leading T'Chaka and T'Challa out into the heavily guarded corridor.
…
Few Minutes later: the armored Wakandan convoy sped away from the UN complex, flanked by a dozen police motorcycles.
Natasha stood on the sidewalk near the cordoned-off entrance, the flashing red and blue lights washing over her face. She felt a massive headache taking root behind her eyes.
She turned to her left. Gojo was standing next to her. Somehow, he had procured a brightly colored lollipop. He was happily sucking on it while watching the police direct traffic.
Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose. "This entire summit just went down the drain," she muttered quietly to herself. "An assassination attempt on a reigning monarch during the signing of the Accords... this isn't going to end peacefully."
Gojo pulled the lollipop from his mouth to lick it and then with another hand went to his pocket and pull out another one and held it out toward her. "It's mango flavor. You want it?"
Natasha simply took the stick from his hand, holding it away from her, her expression exhausted.
"What's the big deal?" Gojo asked, genuinely confused by her grim mood. "I saved everyone. The King is fine. Honestly, if you look at the big picture, this is massively advantageous for us."
He shoved his hands into his pockets while lollipop being in his mouth, his tone shifting from playful to analytical. "Think about it, Nat. They dragged us all here to put a leash on us. To tell us we can't act unless a panel of politicians gives us permission. But today? Today proved their elite UN security is a complete joke. They needed an unsanctioned, independent actor aka me, to keep them from getting blown to bits. The argument for the Accords just lost all its leverage. It's a blessing in disguise."
Gojo shrugged. "Plus, nobody died. It's just some shattered glass and a broken podium. Best case scenario, really."
Natasha's head snapped toward him.
Her spine stiffened. Decades of espionage, of surviving in the Red Room, of anticipating betrayals, flared to life inside her mind.
He was entirely too calm. Gojo was always nonchalant, but he was currently breaking down the geopolitical benefits of a terrorist attack that nearly started somewhat of a War, and he was doing it with the casual air of a man discussing the weather.
Who benefits? The Avengers benefited. The timing was flawless. An attack that didn't kill anyone, humiliated the UN oversight committee, stalled the Accords, and cemented Gojo as a savior to the most technologically advanced nation on Earth.
If what she was suddenly theorizing was true, it was a worse.
Natasha didn't let her face betray her thoughts. She reached out, clamped her hand around Gojo's wrist, and dragged him away from the bustling street. She pulled him down a dark, secured utility corridor alongside the building, far from the cameras and the police.
Gojo let himself be pulled, strolling lazily behind her. "Well, I remember this specific setup from a few late-night rom-coms," he mused. "Don't tell me... is this it? The secret confession of your undying love? Because I'm flattered…"
Natasha then shoved him hard against the wall not listening to his antics at all.
"Now that's some rough roleplay. Should I act shy like a girl since you're playing the man's part here?"
She leaned in, her eyes somewhat cold, she really didn't want this to be true. "Satoru," she hissed. "Don't play games with me. Did you plan this?"
….
A/N: :)
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