Chương 15: Surprise
Location: Los Angeles
Date: June 22 2008
Since returning from Phoenix, my life has slowly found its new rhythm. Each morning was dedicated to training, followed by my day-to-day work as a private investigator. With JARVIS's assistance, I continued to probe for leads on a human trafficking organisation I had accidentally stumbled upon.
Investigations into Smith's connections yielded no results. Her two underlings were nabbed by the FBI, but they were clueless about the organisation's operations. If they had known anything substantial, I doubt they would still be alive. They were mere foot soldiers responsible for driving, abducting, and delivering. Their world was limited to Smith and an occasional cop; they were unaware of Smith's dealings with Walker.
managed to extract data from the FBI servers on cases similar to ours, revealing an ongoing investigation named 'Shadow Breaker.' However, the FBI hadn't unearthed anything conclusive, only piecing together that the multiple abductions bore the hallmarks of organised crime, with separate cells operating in different cities.
I had a stroke of luck in Phoenix when I approached Agent Dabber. Unbeknownst to me, he was part of the 'Shadow Breaker' task force, having joined a year earlier. His involvement explained his leverage in advancing our investigation.
also accessed my file; it was a sparse document, listing only my codename and my recent involvement with a case under 'Shadow Breaker.'
After this initial surge of information, we hit a dead end, mirroring the FBI's own standstill."
With Stark's permission, J. extended his data collection network to other major cities. I suggested applying the parameters we identified in Los Angeles to see if we could locate similar cases elsewhere and J. informed me that he was utilising Stark's pattern prediction algorithm, which he had already been running for me in LA.
This algorithm was a source of concern on its own. It vividly brought back memories of Arnim Zola and the disastrous Project Insight — connections that left me uneasy.
However, more than a week had passed without any tangible results. It was possible that the organisation had halted its activities following the recent arrests, or perhaps J. simply required more data to accurately identify any further suspects."
So, I busied myself with the mundane tasks of a local private investigator and devoted more attention to my training regimen. With decades of experience outpacing my younger body, I had to train rigorously to align my reflexes with my seasoned instincts. It was challenging, but the progress was visible.
Today marked one of the most intense days in my training routine — endurance. Despite the Red Room's gruelling regimen, which elevated my body's tolerance for physical stress, maintaining peak condition requires constant, strenuous effort.
This commitment earned me a notable reputation at the gym. After the incident where I subdued an overly bold gym-goer on my first day, no further attempts were made to approach me. Ironically, that man gained a sort of admiration for his "bravery" as it became known that I followed a strict and demanding training schedule.
At least now, no one wastes my time, and everyone keeps their hands to themselves.
I emerged from the gym shower wrapped in a towel, my legs trembling slightly—a testament to the day's rigorous training. It was a successful session, but fuck, it wasn't easy.
Exhausted, I slumped onto the bench next to my locker, allowing myself a few moments to recover. But there's no rest for the wicked — the buzzing of my phone inside the locker forced me to move again.
"Morning, Strawberry," Stark's voice came through cheerfully as soon as I answered.
"Stark," I responded, rolling my eyes. Ever since that case in Phoenix, he'd taken to calling me by this new nickname. I actually found it endearing; it carried a hint of irony and helped me distance myself from the Black Widow persona I had begun to shed even before my time travel.
"Swing by my place in half an hour. Oh, and don't shake off SHIELD this time." Then, he abruptly ended the call.
I tossed my phone back onto the bench and reached for a sports bra. As I dressed, my mind raced, trying to decipher Stark's intentions. He had rarely called in the past two months, preoccupied with the aftermath of Stane's death and the ensuing FBI investigation into his dealings with terrorists.
His specific request for me to maintain my SHIELD surveillance indicated that whatever he was planning required openly demonstrating our association. This aligned perfectly with the cover story I had crafted from the start. Considering the sprawling scandal unfolding nationwide, it might be time to bring that story into the open.
That sounds about right. Perhaps now we can begin to advance our plans — or at least clarify what our plan actually is.
🕷
Upon arriving, I parked my motorcycle near where I had left it last time. The body panels still bore the marks of past hurried arrival — subtle unless you were looking for them: a few scrapes on the side and asphalt-grey streaks on the handle.
I removed my new helmet, a replacement for the old one that hadn't survived my last frantic visit.
As I approached the front door, it clicked open automatically. It was a bit creepy if you didn't know that J. controlled home security
"Welcome back, Miss Romanova. Mr. Stark is currently in the workshop and has been expecting you," J's voice greeted me seamlessly.
"Thank you, J." My response was brief as I navigated towards the workshop. Reaching the closed door, I hesitated.
"Um, J, a little help here?"
"Please place your palm on the bio scanner to proceed," J. instructed.
I complied, pressing my palm against the scanner. A second later, the door lock clicked open. When did Stark manage to get my palm print? Sneaky bastard.
As I stepped into the room, I found Stark engrossed, biting into what seemed like a triple burger beside a holographic table displaying an intricate web resembling a tree made of multicoloured knots and lines.
He silently gestured for me to come closer, his attention swiftly returning to the hologram.
Setting my helmet down on the nearest bench, I moved closer to the display, captivated by the complex visual. Upon examining the details, I recognised the descriptions of each line and knot — it was a visual representation of the events I had documented.
"Jarvis put this together based on your recollections," Stark noted without diverting his gaze from the display.
"Nice touch, J," I murmured, my focus absorbed by the new connections unfolding before me.
"It is my pleasure to assist, Miss Romanova," J responded, his voice emanating smoothly from somewhere above us.
"I've highlighted the major points, especially the events flagged as critical," Tony explained, pointing to the hologram. "Here's where the arc reactor poisoning starts affecting me. This event is interconnected with several key moments: Pepper becoming CEO, Rhodes transforming into War Machine, SHIELD exploiting my instability, and the entire EXPO debacle with Hammer and Vanko. Somehow, all these events lead to me inventing a new element by this specific date."
"I should start feeling the effects of the poisoning in about four to five months, maybe longer since I'm aware of it and have taken measures to prevent its buildup," Stark continued, grabbing a jar of green smoothie, swirling it, and downing it in one gulp.
"Do you have any leads on how you managed to invent a new element?" I inquired, intrigued by the intricate connections JARVIS had mapped out.
"I have no idea. There's something nagging at the back of my mind, but so far, nothing concrete," Stark responded, frustration evident in his tone.
I pondered for a moment before suggesting, "I remember Fury brought a case here containing Howard Stark's belongings not long after you accomplished it."
"Do you think we can break in to take it?" Stark asked a hint of excitement in his voice.
I considered his question carefully but ultimately expressed doubt, "No, I don't even know where it's been stored all this time. Unless you've already managed to break into SHIELD?"
"No, their security is airtight. We need to figure out how to access that Helicarrier first. I've tracked down remote terminals, but the access is highly restricted there."
"Maybe we could fast-track the development of Extremis and the Regeneration Cradle as backup plans," I suggested.
Stark made a sceptical face, then replied, "Based on your timeline, those are years away from even being viable."
"Fair enough," I shrugged, "but we need both of them."
Stark looked away, lost in thought for a moment, before finally responding, "I'm planning to start a medical division. Beginning with limb prostheses will give us a foothold in the medical field. From there, it'll be easier to expand our reach and potentially get in contact with both companies."
"Cho wouldn't be opposed to it. I know her personally. You could try reaching out to her sooner, discuss the science and whatnot," I continued, reminiscing about the time spent with Cho exploring potential uses of the Cradle to restore my womb.
"Killian is already on HYDRA's radar or will be shortly. I'm not sure we can easily divert their attention or take over the project without a firm hand," I added thoughtfully, considering the intricate dynamics at play.
"Noted. Next up are the events in New Mexico following the invasion in New York," Stark said as he switched to the next item on the hologram.
"Yes, they're interconnected. That incident weaves a web of connections, including the invasion itself and Project Insight," I confirmed, pointing out the links on the display.
"Right, that's the one where HYDRA tries to take over the world, and Captain America saves the day again?" Stark asked, his voice tinged with humour.
"The one and only," I smirked back.
We remained silent for a moment, absorbed in the visualisation. Remembering events and documenting them was one thing, but seeing them mapped out like this was entirely different. The more I studied the connections between events, the more I discovered links that weren't immediately obvious.
"It's useless," Stark blurted out unexpectedly.
"What do you mean?" I asked, turning to face him fully.
"All this knowledge, these events? They're going to be irrelevant soon. I'm not going to die from poisoning, so there's no reason for Rhodes to steal a suit, no reason to make Pepper CEO and no need for me to race in Monaco because I feel like life is slipping away."
"With the actions we're taking now, we can't predict what will happen. It would be foolish to expect any event to unfold as it originally did. We've already altered so many things, like you not being with SHIELD, for example."
I realised he was right. All this time, I had been trying to adapt and record everything I remembered from my past, solely focused on preventing the Snap. But this wasn't just about the Snap anymore, was it?
"It still counts as intel," I countered half-heartedly.
"Jarvis, let's filter this. Sort it out and highlight the major players by threat level. We need to focus on the big fish," Stark directed.
"Very well, sir. Sorting and highlighting the major threats now," J responded promptly.
"Now, let's add another dimension — time. Make the whole thing dynamic," Stark continued, adjusting the hologram.
I watched Stark work, content to let him take the lead. While I was proficient in data analysis, my expertise was more tactical than strategic; it was best to let Stark do Stark's things.
Over the next fifteen minutes, it became evident that our plan would hinge on two primary strategies: fostering power-based developments and systematically removing destructive elements from the board.
And I was fine with that.
🕷
We had spent the last few hours refining our future plans when Stark suddenly suggested we take a break. He led me to a corner of the workshop, where I immediately spotted my railgun on a stand. However, I didn't see any armour elements nearby. Stark pulled an underlayer from a rack and tossed it to me, casually instructing, "Put it on."
I glanced back at him, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. He rolled his eyes dismissively and turned away — cute.
This underlayer was nothing like what I had worn last time. It was sleek, plain black, with a few connectors on the surface — deceptively simple until you examined the inside. I felt the cool metal surfaces make contact with my skin at various points.
"I'm done," I announced in less than five minutes.
"I was sure you had bigger assets," Stark quipped, giving me a practised up-and-down look.
I crossed my arms under my chest and huffed at his audacity — the dare.
"Okay, remember, this is just a training prototype. I need you to run through the training regimen; we'll be collecting your neurological data while you're at it. This way, everything will be prepared when you wear a suit," Stark instructed.
For the next two hours, I engaged in a variety of activities: jogging, sprinting, jumping, rolling, and any other manoeuvre I could think of that might be useful in the suit.
All this time, I saw Stark analysing holographic data, which I assumed was a direct representation of my bodily state and neural activity.
"I think that's enough for now. Let's move on to the next stage," Stark eventually declared, gesturing for me to follow him.
We headed back to the main area of the workshop, where Stark directed me to a red circle painted on the floor. "Stand in the middle of the red circle, strike a T-pose, and ask Jarvis nicely," he instructed, pointing to the centre.
Stepping into the circle, I looked up at the ceiling and said, "Jarvis, if you please?"
"Certainly, Miss Romanova. Starting initialisation sequence," J replied. As he spoke, the floor around me began to open. I remained still, suspecting that Stark had prepared a new suit of armour.
"Okay, this is also a prototype. As you might have noticed, it's flexible. Flexibility is the opposite of armoured. You'll be able to withstand regular firearms without a problem, but anything above 15,000 joules will penetrate," Stark explained, a smirk playing on his lips at the word "penetrate." He quickly added, "To be on the safe side, I'd say 10,000 joules and below is fine."
"No cat fighting with the Raptors for you. Their Gatling gun hits with 18,000 joules. Jarvis will give you access to the specifications and limitations later. Let's run another series of tests."
🕷
After completing the flight test, I landed back in Stark's workshop. Stark was engrossed, analyzing graphs and deep in discussion with J about the test feedback.
As I approached the holographic table, Stark said absently, "Go remove your armour and clean up."
I stepped into the red circle and requested, "Jarvis, please remove the armour."
The process was swift, but it left me drenched in sweat beneath the underlayer. Realizing it was already past 6 p.m. and feeling both starved and exhausted, I decided a shower was necessary and that it was the perfect time to order some food.
Exiting the workshop, I followed J's directions to the guest room. As I made my way there, peeling off the underlayer suit, I called out, "J, could you order some food for me?"
"Certainly, Miss Romanova. What would you like?" J inquired.
I paused, considering what would best replenish my energy. "Grilled chicken with roasted veggies and rice. Oh, and Greek strawberry yoghurt with fruit salad as well, please."
"The Order has been placed. The expected delivery time is thirty minutes," J informed me just as I stepped into the shower.
🕷
Fresh out of the shower and wrapped only in a towel, I realised I had stupidly left my clothes back in the workshop. Exhaustion was clearly taking its toll more than I had anticipated.
As I headed down to retrieve my clothes, I heard the front door open. Assuming it was the food delivery, I quickened my pace towards the entrance. Turning the corner, I almost collided with Pepper, who appeared just as startled to see me. She was holding her heels in one hand and a folder full of papers in the other, which scattered across the floor as she jumped back in surprise.
Her eyes briefly swept over my barely covered form, and I could see the wrong conclusions forming in her mind. Her expression quickly shifted to a professional facade, one that she hadn't yet perfected to the level I remembered from the future, where hints of jealousy still seeped through.
"I'm sorry. I didn't expect anyone to be here," she said, struggling slightly to keep her voice steady and professional.
"No problem, I'll be on my way soon. Stark is in the workshop if you need him — at least, that's where he was half an hour ago. Let me help you with those," I replied, bending down to gather the scattered papers.
As I assisted Pepper, my inner spy couldn't help but notice they were related to property in Malibu.
"Thank you," Pepper said as she joined me on the floor. "Don't worry, I've got it."
"It's not a big deal," I responded with a warm smile, helping her pick up the last few papers. Unfortunately, the signing page with names fluttered too far away, and I couldn't catch the names listed.
"Victoria Potts, Stark's PA," she introduced herself as we stood up, extending her hand.
"Natalia Romanova, Private Investigator," I replied, shaking her hand firmly.
A flicker of recognition passed through her eyes. Had Stark told her about me? I trusted him, but I preferred to keep my past just that — past. I hoped he hadn't shared too much.
"Pepper, this is Strawberry; Strawberry — Pepper," said Stark as he came around the corner from the workshop elevator. His eyes involuntarily flickered over my naked body in a towel, and I responded by giving him the finger.
He rolled his eyes and motioned toward inside the house. "Go to the kitchen. I'll grab the food," and with that, he disappeared.
Pepper and I watched his retreating back. "Traitor," I mumbled under my breath. Pepper shot me a sharp look before finally suggesting, "Shall we?"
🕷
The silence in the kitchen was palpable as Pepper and I waited for Stark. I suspected the food was just an excuse for him to escape the brewing storm, leaving me to handle the explanations. Coward.
"How long have you known Stark?" Pepper asked, her voice tinged with unexpected sadness. What had Stark done this time?
"About two years," I replied. It was bizarre.
"He never mentioned you before," she said, her tone unchanged. Oh no, she might think Stark and I were an item.
"We're not dating or anything," I quickly clarified, letting out a weary sigh. She glanced at me, her expression shifting as her eyes swept over my towel-clad form.
Right, how was I supposed to explain this? I just shrugged.
The uncomfortable silence stretched on for another five minutes. Fuck it, I decided, I let Stark deal with his own mess. It wasn't my fault, after all.
As if on cue, Stark entered the kitchen, his arms laden with bags of food, and immediately tried to lighten the mood. "No catfight yet? Come on, you're both sitting here way too quietly. Was expecting some dramatic soap opera action by now. I even brought food!" he exclaimed, setting the food on the table with a flourish.
"Let's see what we have here," he continued, blatantly ignoring my unimpressed look and Pepper's thinly veiled annoyance.
"Aha, Strawberry yoghurt! Want some?" He offered the yoghurt to Pepper, who looked like she was about to crack.
"I can't believe you brought me strawberry yoghurt! I'm allergic to strawberries!" she exclaimed, her voice controlled but intense.
"That's mine," I interjected, chuckling as I snatched the yoghurt from him. And the grilled chicken, too," I added, pulling another bag toward me. I was done with the drama and ready to eat.
"Right, Taco?" Tony offered the next item to Pepper, who simply rolled her eyes and began sorting through the bags herself.
"Seriously, Tony. Jarvis knows better than to order Tacos for me," she retorted with a sigh.
"That would be correct, Miss Potts. I believe the orange bag contains your favourite smoothie and salad," Jarvis chimed in, his voice smug.
I was already tearing into the grilled chicken with my fingers.
"I knew that! Of course, it was an orange smoothie!" Tony blustered, trying to recover.
"It's not an orange smoothie, and it's avocado! Orange is the restaurant's name!" Pepper corrected him, amusement now colouring her tone.
🕷
As I finished my fruit salad, Stark had already polished off his meal and was perusing the folder Pepper had brought. Reaching the last page, he gestured to Pepper, who promptly handed him her pen from her purse. With a practised flourish, he signed the document, closed the folder, and slid it across the table to me.
Raising an eyebrow, I glanced at Pepper. She returned my look with an expectant yet guarded expression, her body tensing subtly.
"Stark, what is this?" I asked as I skimmed the document. It was a deed of gift, naming me the owner of the property here in Malibu.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Pepper's eyes widen as she turned to Stark.
"You didn't tell her?" she asked, surprised.
"Of course not! It's a surprise. You don't spoil surprises before the actual surprise, right?" Stark retorted.
"Why?" I asked simply, genuinely taken aback.
"It's my way of saying thank you for your help — saving my ass in Afghanistan and later with Stane," Stark explained, rolling his eyes as if my question was absurd.
"It's all yours; do what you want with it," he continued nonchalantly. What he didn't explicitly say — but what I understood — was that it would be practical for me to move in. This would provide a cover story to keep me closer and allow easy access to my suit in his workshop.
That's when it clicked why he had added my biometric data to the workshop door scanner.
"As soon as you sign these papers," Pepper interjected, offering me a pen. She seemed more surprised than I was, likely unaware of my involvement until this moment.
"Okay, girls, behave. See you later," Stark chimed in nonchalantly, standing and leaving the kitchen.
"He's an idiot," I remarked to Pepper as we watched him go. With all this secret play, he unintentionally gave her a solid emotional rollercoaster, and she was visibly still reeling from it.
I barely had time to react when Pepper, overwhelmed by the moment, suddenly embraced me in a tight hug.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," she murmured repeatedly.
Once Pepper had regained her composure, I finished signing the documents for my new property. I planned to inspect it soon, anticipating a move if the place was livable and didn't require repairs. Knowing Stark, it was probably ready for immediate occupancy.
"Do you want to go for a girls' night out sometime?" Pepper asked as she organised their copies into her folder.
"Sure," I shrugged and gave her my cell number.
"Text me when you have time. I think I'm more flexible than you."
"I will." For some reason, her promise sounded more foreboding, and I felt like she meant something more than just to text me.
Now, it is time to find my clothes. I'd done enough unintentional revealing for one day.
🕷
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