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Dante hadn't expected Natasha to invite him to an expensive restaurant. Although it wasn't Michelin-rated—which never mattered anyway—the place and the staff were dressed like one. He showed the invitation at the reception desk and got a keycard and directions to the private room she'd reserved.
He considered knocking, then decided against it. Natasha was expecting him anyway. He slid the keycard in, which made a buzzing click. He pushed the door to find Natasha at the table with her head resting on the closed laptop, arms folded beneath her cheek.
"Nat?"
She looked up and a complicated look crossed her face, which was quickly replaced by a lazy smile. For some reason her shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing a lot more skin than usual, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her collarbone even though the room was relatively cool.
She tugged at the fabric like it was midsummer in the Sahara. "You're late."
He wondered if the Spirit had cursed her or something else happened for her to be sweating in this weather.
"By one minute and three seconds," he said, sliding into the seat. "You didn't have to spend this much. Street food would've been more than enough."
These places always made the same trade of prioritizing presentation over taste. A good street vendor would beat it every time.
"It doubled as a nice environment to write my report," Natasha said, opening the laptop again and starting to type. "I swear this thing is going to kill me before my deal with the demon ever does."
He leaned back, watching her fingers fly over the keyboard one second and press down on backspace the next. She acted like she had run into a writer's block while working on a report. "It's alright. I can revive you."
She shook her head without moving her gaze from the screen. "It'll kill me again."
"It's just a report. It can't be that bad."
Natasha lowered the laptop lid slowly and held it, giving him an upturned glance that was so openly pleading. The puppy-gazed redhead was nothing like the confident, teasing Natasha he was used to. "Can you… help me?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
It genuinely made him wonder if someone else had hijacked her body.
"I'm just… fed up," she said with a deep sigh. "Fury keeps rejecting my report. He says the account of Asgard and Kamar-Taj is fabricated. He won't believe them until he sees them with his own eyes."
Definitely something Fury would say to manipulate his agents.
"I see." He still wasn't buying the full depressed act from Natasha. Just a report shouldn't defeat the woman who had lived through the Red Room's tortures. "You can skip the report. An agent of your level should have that level of freedom."
"I don't—"
"Barton disappeared for weeks, and Fury didn't even send anyone to check on him."
Natasha paused, realization flickering across her face. It seemed like she'd stopped her depressed act, but then her shoulders sagged again. "I'm a former assassin trained in the Red Room. They don't trust me."
"Call Fury. I'll talk to him."
She shook her head hurriedly. "That makes me look competent. Basically send the signal I can't handle my own assignment. He'll use this as a reason to move me down."
He looked at her for a moment. "What do you actually need from me then?"
Natasha stood up and carried her laptop around the table. She grabbed the chair next to his, dragged it even closer until their knees almost touched, and sat down. "Look here."
Her positioning placed something else in his line of sight. The open shirt opened a whole different view when she leaned in. He had to peel his eyes away before she noticed.
"You used to be an information specialist," she said, tilting her body to the side to provide an even deeper view. "And you know enough of my history to know what's plausible. You might be able to build a version that holds together for Fury."
He helped her come up with a story as she had requested. His imagination was more flexible than Natasha. It didn't take long for Natasha to accept one. All the while Natasha kept brushing shoulders against him, stretching so the shirt gaped a little more, gesturing at the screen while tugging at her shirt, and leaning into him when he typed on the laptop. She was definitely trying to arouse him, getting him worked up toward something, but it felt too forced, as though she was following a script.
"Nat, is it really about the report… or something else?"
She tilted her head, feigning complete ignorance to his gaze. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing."
"You're being overly sensitive." She stretched her arms overhead, arching her back. "This might convince Fury."
"Then can we order something? I'm starving over here."
"I got caught up." She gave him a sideways look that was a little too soft. "You're not angry?"
"I might be if you keep me hungry."
She picked up the menu and leaned in close enough. She suggested several dishes while asking what he preferred. He had no complicated requirements. Meat, enough of it, and something sweet. Soon, the order went through.
"Felicia sent me a number to trace," Natasha said, settling back. "Do you know that?"
This was why Felicia had borrowed his phone. She wanted Natasha's contact to track down the one trying to explode him.
"The number was a burner. I've already submitted a trace request. The folks at the Comm Surveillance Unit will identify the location these texts were sent from." She paused for a moment, revealing an earnest look. "Do you want me to handle the follow-up?"
She might join the hunt if he just nodded his head. As much as he'd like that, he didn't want to see Natasha crying about writing another fake report.
"Send the location to Felicia. She'll take care of it."
Natasha stared at his face. "Are you sure?"
"I'll be there if they can't handle it."
"Speaking of which…" She reached into her jeans pocket and put something down on the table with a thud. It was a thin strip of metal with two rings. "Do you want this Sling Ring?"
He raised his hand and traced a lazy circle in the air. Orange sparks trailed his finger. A portal snapped open to the quiet forest clearing in Asgard where they had ended up after the Oscorp Island fight.
Natasha stared at the ring in her palm. "I thought I had a great gift."
"You should keep it. Your safety is the greatest gift for me… or whatever cheesy line a guy would say to impress a woman."
"Touche." She slipped the ring back in her jacket pocket with a smile. "Shall we talk about the island then?"
"But I handled that already. It won't concern SHIELD again… unless that girl loses control."
He doubted Illyana would let it happen again.
"The disturbance was from Limbo," the Spirit of Vengeance suddenly spoke, appearing in a swirl of fire beside Natasha. "Am I wrong, little one?"
"Little one?" He frowned. "By calling me little one, you're indirectly insulting Death."
The Spirit did a full spin in the air. "I am guessing only some demons came through. A large-scale deployment would've brought the Ancient One's attention."
"Only one," he said, staring at the cowardly Spirit. "She was the new Demon Queen of Limbo."
"Interesting. You seem rather proud of her."
He laughed. "This new queen took control after killing the previous ruler. She doesn't mess around."
At least not in Darkchylde mode, a part of her that would always threaten to take control every time she showed weakness.
"The island's destruction makes sense now," the Spirit said, nodding to herself. "How powerful is the new ruler? Was she stronger than me when I took control of Natasha?"
He thought for a moment before answering her curious question. "Very much is."
Magik was significantly weaker than her 616 counterpart. One of the reasons was the lack of mentorship from the sorcerer versions of Storm and Kitty Pryde, who had been stranded in the Limbo of 616 universe. But he could fix that by mentoring her. Having a powerful ally would never be bad in this world, especially one who could travel through time to fix any accident.
"So… nothing in the grand scheme of things."
If Illyana had been here, she would've let Darkchylde out just to beat the Spirit back to Hell.
"Did you know Limbo has its own consciousness? It's half-sentient."
He revealed a wry smile. "I've experienced it firsthand."
The three began chatting about Limbo, most of it was just Dante and the Spirit talking about Limbo. From spawning endless demons to having a semi-sentient nature, Limbo was a dimension like no other. During this, Natasha moved back to her original seat across from him, physically present, but absent in her attention. Nothing about Limbo pulled her interest.
However, it became concerning when she continued this behavior even after they finished eating.
"Natasha," he called her out. "Is something bothering you?"
She kept her eyes down. "I can't do this."
"Do what?"
"This," she whispered. "This isn't the reason I made a contract with you. I wanted power to never resort to… this."
Dante realized she wasn't talking to him. She was talking to the Spirit.
The fiery skull kept hovering there, staring at Natasha. "What better way to redeem yourself than to save your colleagues."
Natasha punched the table, rattling the plates. "There has to be a better way."
"What's happening here?" He asked, looking between them. "Can you not keep me in the dark?"
Natasha finally met his eyes, hesitation written all over her face. "I know you've helped me more times than I've earned. I need one more favor. In exchange, I'll do anything..."
"You're giving a lot of power by saying 'anything.'" He noticed her hesitation growing. She wasn't thinking straight, or rather, she let her emotions take control. "First, tell me everything."
"Fury had a plan to recruit you," Natasha said with a sigh. "It was… let's just say it was very inspired from old school spy romance."
"Explain."
"So…" Natasha leaned back and locked her eyes on the door, her arms crossed confidently. "Any second an agent will come through that door."
Right on cue, the door buzzed and swung open. Maria Hill entered the room, carrying herself with confidence that came from holding a high position for a long while. Two female agents in dark suits followed her and took a respectful stance behind her. Dark glasses covered their features.
Natasha seemed surprised for a second. "Miss Hill, I didn't know the Director assigned you for this."
"Agent Romanoff, Director Fury sent me for a different purpose," Maria said in a crisp, formal tone. "You have been terminated from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division… effective immediately."
Dante watched Natasha's face. This wasn't the shock of someone who had been anticipating this. Fury hadn't planned this. In simple terms, she got stabbed in the back.
Maria tossed a file onto the table; it slid across the surface and stopped in front of Natasha. "The formal termination letter details the reasons."
Natasha opened the file. Every page turn made her expression colder and colder, filling her with suppressed anger. Her jaw clenched tight. "These are crimes from before I joined. Why are they being used to arrest me?"
"The debt doesn't expire," Maria explained in a calm voice and gestured to the two behind her. "Come with us."
Natasha closed the file and slammed it on the table, stopping the agents in their tracks. "This is fabricated justification. I'm not letting you terminate with this bullshit."
Maria gave a soft smile that hid daggers underneath. "Your Red Room colleagues are living quiet lives right now. They have jobs, apartments, loved ones—"
"Threaten me again, and I'll judge every single member of SHIELD." Natasha reached out to the Spirit and allowed the skin of her face to melt away. The skull formed, flames roaring bright around it. "Starting from you."
Maria's smile remained in place as though she had full grasp on the situation. "Show her."
The Agents pulled out their phones and showed it to Natasha. Dante could see an inconspicuous SUV parked outside every apartment on the screen. He assumed them to be the houses occupied by ex-Widows of the Red Room.
Natasha clenched her fists at the blatant threat, flames burning cold in her eyes. She lowered her head, letting the Ghost Rider's transformation fade. The agents moved forward on Maria's signal and put cuffs on Natasha's wrists.
"I thought we were fighting for good."
Dante was still left without explanation whatsoever. "Wait a minute."
"Stop." Maria made her agents halt as she turned to face Dante with a polite smile. "Mister Skullfire, this is an internal matter. It has nothing to do with you. Please don't involve yourself."
Natasha shook her head at him. The meaning was clear: "Let it go. It's too risky." The moment Natasha used force, Maria's underlings would go after her loved ones.
The redhead gave him one last glance before allowing herself to be escorted by the agents. Even the most powerful agent of SHIELD hadn't been spared from being put behind bars.
Maria paused at the threshold and gave him a look over her shoulder. "The Master has a message for you: 'Do not meddle with the affairs of mutants, or you will pay in blood.'"
"Who is that coward?"
She walked out without answering. If he had to make a guess, she was operating under a telepath's control. Otherwise, Hill would never threaten someone with their family, much less one of SHIELD's agents. After all, SHIELD had chosen to look past Natasha's crimes to acquire her. Why would they switch their stance all of a sudden?
***
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