iwasrussian | for drunkentides

for drunkentides

Natasha knew the multiverse was a funny thing. She'd been around, able to say more often than not that each trip was not her first rodeo or would it be her last. That was her thinking until she went home the last time and lived for what would be the last five years of her life.

It didn't bother her as it might for someone else. Sure, there were thoughts about it, a slight ache in her heart for leaving Clint, Laura and the kids. There was more sadness than she thought there would be in not watching Cooper become a man or teaching Lila as much as she could until her father got involved. And little Nate who she barely got to know. Then there was Steve.

She would never admit it but the two men singlehandedly helped make her into who she was. Then Arthur happened and she found herself holding on to the prospect of happiness.

On the morning of what would unknowingly be their last day in the City, Natasha awoke still nestled in Arthur's arms in the quaint little beach house he'd built. The redhead loved it there, loved waking up and being greeted by the view from the front window. Her favourite though was when it was grey and rainy, giving them both reason to stay where they were like nothing else existed beyond the walls that were around them. That was how that morning started.

Something felt different. She felt different.

At first, it was the vague feeling of things shifting around her, causing her stomach to roll uneasily. Then it only continues to worsen as the minutes go on. Natasha reaches for the strong arm that had been draped over her hip, careful not to make it abrupt because maybe she was still groggy from sleep. But it didn't get any better. That's when it occurs to her that she is in the midst of being pulled away from the City.

And him.

Closing her eyes, she wishes to be able to see him again. Somewhere else. In some other world. Whenever the multiverse deems it fit. When things go black, she knows there is no fighting it.

When she opens her eyes again, Natasha is treading, blinking back the water in her eyes after emerging from beneath the surface and trying to focus on a flashing light in the distance. Once she can see it clearly, the redhead realizes what it is.

A lighthouse.

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Whatever one might call their travel, Arthur didn't feel a bit of it, sleeping clear through until his subconcious realized that the bed next to him was cold and empty. When he cracked his eyes, he expected to see the walls of the little beach house he'd built; the refuge he'd manage to find in a more than limiting world, that managed to be turned into a little paradise with one particular red-head's companionship. Instead, he found the walls of his room at his Dad's, feet hanging oddly off the twin bed that was never quite large enough for the man he'd grown into.

His stomach churned. Arthur couldn't tell right off if it was because he'd because he'd travelled or because Natasha was gone, and he felt back into the bed to put a forearm over his forehead for a long minute.

Thirty something years on this planet, and he hadn't found anything or anything that made him quite as happy as the Black Widow had. Ironic, considering her working name, but Arthur couldn't help leaning into it playfully when he learned it; now their laughter haunted him.

Begrudgingly, Arthur got out of bed, pushed a hand through his hair and stood up, to go and try to find his father. His dad always put a little perspective on things and if Arthur could use anything, besides the woman that wasn't next to him any more, it was his father's wisdom and compassion.

But it was early, and Tom Curry was where he always was at this time of morning; standing on the docks, waiting for Alanna to show up. It was to everyone's benifit that he was - Natasha's head popping out of the water was more than easy to see, with nothing else on the calm ocean.

"HEYO!" Tom called, waving his hands. "LAND THIS WAY!"

Despite it being a dock, there was no boats, not even a rowing boat that Tom could use to go meet her.

Arthur, noting the time, only had to look out to see his dad, and made his way out of the house and down the stairs that winded their way towards the dock's edge.

It was during the first five-minute stretch that Natasha's mind wandered between trying to remember a similar situation, but nothing came to her here in her world, which only leads her to believe she's somewhere else now; another pocket of the multiverse that will play with her mentally, allowing her to remember all the places she's been and especially Arthur. Something in her head says "be glad", that at least whatever powers in charge of pulling and pushing people in and out of places didn't send her home or to wherever her soul ended up after making the sacrifice for the Soul Stone instead of letting Clint do it.

Wherever she is, there is simply no reason to believe that the universe would let them be together. So, she keeps going forward, like she always has.

Eventually, minutes start to feel like hours. Whether it was because of the waves or the interdimensional travel or the intense exhaustion that hit Natasha when she came to decide that there was no desire to start all over again in another world, fatigue hit hard. Her arms began to ache and her body felt so much heavier even though she was wearing the same white t-shirt and underwear that she had been in when the City pulled her out of Arthur's arms.

And as hard as Natasha tries, she stops swimming and lets a wave slowly drag her under.

Tom watched the head, a mere dot on the horizion, bob and sink. He swore under his breath and glanced around in futile hope that a boat would just... appear somehow. Of course, that wasn't the case, but he did see a welcome sight trotting down the stairs.

"Arthur! On the Double!" he called, sending his full grown son into a purposeful job towards the end of the dock.

"Hey Pops," Arthur said, mind fully set into having a small reunion until he saw the look on his dad's face as he looked back at the ocean. "What's up?"

Tom pointed. "I saw someone out there. No boat, just a head above the water line." Arthur looked and frowned in confusion as he looked back at his father, who sighed heavily and gestured impaitently. "They're not there anymore!"

Arthur didn't bother to ask if Tom was sure - his dad didn't talk like that unless he was.

Without question, Arthur dove off the edge of the dock, soaring through the water as soon as he was under. It didn't take but 30 seconds for him to spot the body floating down in the dark blue and Arthur jetted forward. It was only when he got close that he realized who it was.

"Natasha," he breathed, an odd statement, given the water around him, but Arthur scooped her up and rushed her to the surface. "Nat," he said, slapping her face slightly, worried that he was going to have to rush her to the dock and give her CPR. If he didn't get some kind of near immediate response, that's exactly what he'd do, cutting through the water until he popped up out of the ocean like a daisy to land on the docks edge and gently set her down with a rising panic in his chest.

Without much of a fight left in her, Natasha felt the heaviness in her body give way to weightlessness as she slowly sunk further and further down. She wasn't quite unconscious at that point, but close enough that the experience took her back to the night she spent in the harbour. Then it was not so distant memories of laughing on the beach with a bucket of chicken and some beer before remembering what it felt like to have his lips against hers.

Or hear him say her name.

Arthur manages to get her to the surface just as the darkness begins to envelop her. For ten very long seconds, Natasha is unresponsive. But in the last few moments, before he decides to get her to the dock, water expels from her mouth and she starts to cough. A few seconds after that her eyes open and look at him.

"My hero," she tells him, flashing a quick smirk before coughing again.

The breath he let out as she coughed herself back to conciousness was more than heavy with relief and he watched her, golden eyes full of worry, as she expelled everything she'd breathed in. His heart had been so caught up in her being in the deep that it hadn't had time to process her being here, but that wonderment and confusion was slowly creeping in.

He huffed a grin at her and her quip. Yeah, she'd be fine.

"Forget how to swim?" he teased without any real humor, concern still pricking at the edges of his features. A beat passed before he was kissing her, hard and sure and grateful for her even getting the chance to exist in his arms again. Once it broke, he turned his shoulders towards the dock and started propelling them that way.

"I hate to spring this on you without asking all the questions that I've got, but that man standing on the docks is my father. I'm sure he's going to want an introduction." If nothing more than because she was a wayward soul in the sea, but that was only because Arthur hadn't gotten the chance to fill Tom in on where he'd been - if Tom even knew.

He'd been made to understand that they were dropped into the same time that they left which was.. well, not adventitious towards him having much of a reunion with anyone.

The way it all had unfolded was a lot to process. To Natasha, it feels like both hours and years since her green eyes took his face in. She's missed him incredibly and wanted nothing more than to continue whatever it was that had built between them. No, it was nothing close to marriage but she was comfortable with him and he with her and that's what mattered to them.

A hand moves to his face, holding it there while her delicate lungs lose more air in only the best of ways. It's a connection she didn't realize she needs until he's pulling back and telling her about his father on the docks.

And that's when it hits her.

"Your father?" Natasha's throat is raw from coughing and talking came out raspier than it normally was. "How is your father here?"

Suddenly, there were so many questions.

It didn't feel more than ten minutes since he'd last seen her, but the spike of fear that he wouldn't again was too much to ignore. It was telling to say the least. He'd accepted what their fate was in the City, in the bubble that wouldn't let them go. His brain refused to process what it meant for them here with so much in the queue already.

Besides, her - against him, holding his face with such strong little fingers and both looking and sounding incredibly sexy for what she'd suffered and her sea salt soaked hair, was so much better a welcome home greeting than he could have asked for. Sans drowning, of course.

"You see that house up there, with the Lighthouse?" He paused a beat for effect. "Welcome to Maine, and the house my dad has lived in since I don't even know when. Way before me, that's for sure. He's the one that spotted you out here so make sure you're nice." Not that she wasn't ever nice to people that hadn't given her a reason to be otherwise.

As if her brain wasn't already overwhelmed enough.

"It was a lighthouse," Natasha murmurs, eyes moving towards the direction they were going before looking back at Arthur. "I saw it after coming to and tried to swim for it."

Things felt weirdly dreamlike and it's hard not to believe that all of this was a dream. In all the places she's been, no one has ever spoken of being in someone else's world. Not once. But as the dock got closer, she wasn't sure what to make of any of it.

"So, we're in your world. I'm in your world," Natasha said, voice a little shaky. "And I'm meeting your father. Did you tell him about the City?"

Normally, Natasha Romanoff was pretty confident about new situations but this one? Has her a little nervous.

They couldn't have known it on the docks but Arthur was glad her fighting spirit had made the journey with her. It was something people needed to survive the ocean, even if he had scooped her up just in time. Arthur couldn't help but think that it'd serve her just as well with the Atlanteans she'd likely end up meeting.

Unless she wanted to go.. somewhere else. Arthur wasn't stupid enough to think that just because she came with him, if that was even the right terminology for their situation, that it meant she wouldn't want to fly back to.. He wasn't sure. A place that wasn't with him, was all that really mattered.

"I guess so," he confirmed for both counts, not finding any sure feeling in her expression or tone that would let him judge if that was a good or bad thing. "I didn't even get to really say hello. He sent me in as soon as he spotted me."

To be fair, Arthur could have had them at the dock in three seconds flat but frankly, he was giving Natasha time to catch her breath and get her wits about her before dumping her onto dry land and at his father's feet. If nothing else though, Natasha would see the human blueprint of Arthur without any pointing out needed.

Edited 2020-06-30 00:41 (UTC)

The extra time, though not immediately thought about, is appreciated. Natasha is still feeling the after-effects of nearly drowning and her throat burns from salt and retching she'd done a few minutes earlier. Not much was on her mind at the moment other than getting dry, putting on some clothes and maybe sleeping for a few hours. Not meeting the father of the guy she really likes.

But there isn't any sort of expression that suggests that. In fact, she's heard the reverent way Arthur speaks about his father and despite how crappy she feels, there's an incredible interest to see how father and son compare beyond physical looks.

There were more questions but they could wait. She may also be present for some of the more confusing conversation regarding how they knew one another. What she knows so far is that he's a pretty open-minded, understanding guy. It seems the apple didn't fall far from the tree there.

So, why was she nervous about what his father would think of her?

He could only take it so slow and eventually, they got to the docks with no real paitence from Thomas who called from the dock with a hurrying gesture. "What are you doing, taking your time, come on," he urged impatiently, face full of concern as he helped Natasha off the dock ladder that Arthur helped her up with a careful hand. He'd opted to not punch out of the water only because Natasha had had enough fun for one day, he was sure.

"Acting like you've got all the time in the world," Tom continued, a man happy to fill the silence when allowed, and it came with a brief glance up and down her. He was honestly checking for limbs, but when he saw how little she was dressed in, he averted his eyes and found reasons to focus on his son's face, respectfully.

"Come on, let's get you up to the house, get some tea into you. Helps with the throat. How'd you end up out there all alone?"

Arthur hovered wordlessly, outside of the soft question of if she could walk all the way up top. If not, he'd happily carry her, and mutter soft apologies in advance for anything that might happen.

Slowly and steadily, Natasha climbs the ladder and steps onto the docks flat surface with a slight teeter. She gives Tom a small flash of a smile as she takes his hand and finds herself almost immediately endeared to the older man. He reminds her of Laura, though not in the physical obvious way. They both were warm and hospitable and had an incredible talent for fussing and it made her smile. It wasn't often that she's been made to feel welcome anywhere and part of her loves it. The other part wonders how long it will take before they reel in disgust and betrayal when they find out about her past.

Natasha keeps herself close to Arthur, her body instinctively looking for his body heat as she wraps her arms around her to keep warm. That's when green eyes drift up to the lighthouse behind Tom. There wasn't much to see of the front of the house, but it felt inviting, even from the end of the dock.

At the older man's question, Natasha briefly looks at Arthur and then back to his father with an uncertain look and a shake of her head. "I wish I knew. Maine is nowhere near where I was."

A pause.

"Tea sounds good though," she replies, teeth almost to the point of chattering. "Any chance you have a towel I can borrow, too?"

The trek up to the house will be a slower one than it normally would be had her swim been like the ones she usually takes. But with Arthur there spotting her, she's confident she'll be okay. At least until they come to the stairs.

Aruthr stayed close by, one hand half lifted at the ready should it be needed as he followed them towards the stairs, smirking at his Pop's back and not taking a lick of the admonishment personally. Tom wanted to be a gruff old man but too much of his kindness showed through unless he was given reason to not and in his elder years, there were less and less reasons to be an immovable wall.

"And some dry clothes," Tom added affirmatively. "You're not the first lost soul to wash up here. I've learned to be prepared."

Arthur smirked as they came up to the foot of the stairs. His father never failed to impress him with his stubbornness. But Natasha's slight hesitation had him scooping her up with a soft murmur of reassurance as he and Tom made quick work of the admittedly numerous steps that got them back on top of the rut of land the lighthouse was on. Opting to carry her right to the front door, that's where Arthur set her down before following her in.

It was a cozy place and Natasha was ushered into the living room with its big floor to ceiling half wall bookshelves and Arthur pulled a heavy knit blanket around Natasha. "I'll go put on water and get a towel."

Tom nodded and gestured at the couch halting as he half stepped himself away. "I've still got clothes - you look about Alanna's size. Please, make yourself at home."

The irony of it all was finally hitting Natasha and rather than be uncomfortable with holding off on telling Tom about her and Arthur, she is more than amused. And perhaps a little pleased that with him leading, Tom can't see the stupid smile on her face when his son scoops her up to save her energy on the stairs.

Pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, green eyes wander around the living room to take everything in; from the little knick-knacks and pictures to the comfort of throw blankets and pillows on the couch. It's a home and she already feels at ease. Even standing there all alone while both Curry men go about helping the stranger feel more like a guest.

A picture catches her eye on a small table at the end of the couch. Stepping closer, Natasha lowers slightly to see the family photo a little better. It was easy to guess who the woman was.

But she straightens again when it sounds like someone is returning and Natasha looks up with a small smile.

The grin that spread on Arthur's face in response to Natasha's as he moved them up the stairs had only simmered a little as he'd gone off after his tasks and while he was the first to return, they could track Tom by the rustling happening above them. Something glinted in Arthur's eyes as he came up next to stand next to her, towel gently offered.

"You're gonna hear him talk a lot about her. Just don't mention that we know she's not dead. He doesn't know and she doesn't want him to. Not til its safe."

"Here we go," Tom sounded as he started coming down the stairs, weight uneven and a little heavier in breath then he was in younger years, for all his current health. He had a small box in his hands that he brought around to set on the coffee table before backing up with a smile. "You take whatever fits."

Arthur looked over at his Dad. He was getting older and Arthur hated to see it, but the man was loved, and loved deeply. "Either you ran out of tea or moved it again - I couldn't find it."

Tom 'ahh'd loudly and nodded before turning off that way. "I did. Been watching that Marie Kondo lady; thought I'd make some improvements."

For as surreal as being in Arthur's world is, it's not much different than Natasha's in a visual sort of way. Or at least Maine isn't. They've had enough conversations that give her the impression that the only change is neither exists in the other's world. But time would tell.

She nods, hand reaching out for the towel as eyes dart to the stairs and look up to see Tom's shadow before seeing him again. The story of Atlanna is a sad one and there's a spark of sadness for the Queen and the man she fell in love with. Natasha finds herself hoping for the two to be reunited. Sooner rather than later.

Tom was a rare kind and it was hard to admit to, but she was already endeared to him in a way that didn't happen often.

She moves to kneel by the coffee table, gives an appreciative nod and glances into the box. But as soon as Tom disappears into the kitchen, Natasha looks at Arthur.

"I can see where you get your charming personality," she smirks, green eyes moving back to a pair of jeans that she was pulling out. They would definitely fit, though she may have to roll up the legs a few times. "You think he's noticed that the shirt I'm wearing is yours?"

It was heartbreaking and just as heartbreaking to not be able to relief the grief in his father's heart. Arthur hated not being able to tell him but his mother's wishes were more important than how he felt about them. Besides that, he could see where it'd hurt Tom even more to know that she was alive and still in danger.

He wasn't the youngest man anymore.

Arthur could only grin at the compliment and look towards the door his dad had gone through. "Nothing gets past him but he's too polite to say anything about it. Give him about fifteen and I'm sure he will. Worst part about getting caught was the way he'd let me stew in uncertianty."

In the kitchen, the kettle started screaming and a few moments later, Tom was coming back with a tea cup and saucer that looked too small for his larger hands.

"Lavender and Chamomile tea," he announced as he sat the cup down on the coffee table, stepping back with another gesture of his hand as he continued. "Best thing to get in you after an experience like that."

Arthur was sure Nat would want to go change first, so he directed her towards the bathroom. "You can change in there. Just leave the wet stuff in the tub."

If Tom hadn't noticed Arthur's shirt on her before, he sure did now, and eyed his son with a face full of silent questions over Natasha's head.

"Thank you," she replies appreciatively, grabbing a white button-up shirt from the box as well before standing. "It smells amazing."

Despite nearly drowning, Natasha was beginning to find all of this very amusing and after Tom points out the way to the bathroom, her instinctive sixth sense of kicks in. Oh, he knew and the brief but ever so sly and impish little grin on her face said as she passed Arthur said to have fun explaining.

So, she takes her time in the bathroom, careful not to make a mess on the floor even though the shirt she wore had finished dripping and now clung to her small frame like a second skin. Her hair was even semi-dry when she emerges again, highlighting just how red her hair was.

It was nearing ten minutes by the time the door opens and Natasha emerges again, looking just as tired but at least dry and warm again. She looks from Arthur to Tom evenly and long enough to decide how to act.

The walls of the house weren't thin but the only thing keeping Natasha from the men was a door, so she'd get a sense of the whispered conversation.

"Isn't this the second red-head you've brought home?"

"I wouldn't call her getting dumped in the ocean as 'brought home', Dad, but.. So?"

Tom lifted his eyebrows with a smirk as he looked at the bathroom door for a minute before looking back up at his son who'd out grown him by at least 6 inches. "This one's wearing your shirt."

Arthur grinned. "Yeah. I've got a hellva story to tell you later, over a beer or three. Trust me, you'll need 'em. But you can bet I'd be in a much, much worse mood if she hadn't shown up."

Tom didn't need the details; he could see it on Arthur's face. His son was smitten and in a way he hadn't since he was a kid just starting out.

"She got a name?"

"Natasha Romanoff."

Tom's eyebrows lifted again. "Like the Czar, Romanoff?"

Arthur nodded. "I don't think it's any relation, but she is Russian."

It was then that Natasha came out of the bathroom to see them huddled together, Arthur with his arms crossed and head bowed as they talked, two sets of almost guilty eyes come up to greet her. Arthur straightened and held a hand out to her.

"Natasha, I'd like you to officially meet my dad, Thomas Curry. Dad, this is my girlfriend, Natasha."

There were other things he needed to do, but Arthur was going to take the time to introduce them properly. He could trust his dad to take care of Natasha for a night while he went to see the situation underwater and possibly get her a rebreather machine so she wasn't stuck on land.

If nothing else, Arthur knew and respected what Natasha could do. He had faith in her ability to kick ass.

Oh, Natasha could hear the talking; the hushed voices still just loud enough to pick out the slight lift of voices that meant questions were being fired off one after the other. It was weird but she wasn't the type to really care much about what someone thought of her before. Then again, meeting parents was never something she saw herself doing.

But it was inevitable. As seconds away.

The guilty eyes threw her off at first, green eyes darting back over to Thomas to view his reaction as she slowly slips her hand into Arthur's and steps over beside him; her smile as close to shy as it has ever been and probably ever will be before turning apologetic.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Curry," Natasha starts, extending her hand to shake his. "I'm sorry how this all happened, but it wasn't anything either of us was in control of."

Still, Natasha was extremely grateful that it did. Life without Arthur was something the redhead wasn't inclined to do.

Tom took that hand for the shaking but only got two pumps in before he was hauling her in for a tight hug that ended with a clap on her shoulder as he pulled back. "Handshakes are for strangers and solicitors. Not my son's partners. Not that he's had as many as a young man ought to," Tom said with a sidelong glance at Arthur who just shurgged.

Sue him, he had tastes.

"Alright Dad, don't overdo it."

Tom laughed but nodded as he stepped back. "Sure, sure. Go ahead, sit down. Make yourself comfortable. You must be exhausted."

Arthur stayed standing. "I hate do break up the welcome home committee, but.." He took a deep breath. "Atlantis is declaring war on the rest of the people of the ocean before trying to turn their attention to land. I've.." He looked at Natasha. "But I'll be back. Will you be okay here for a few hours?"

Natasha doesn't mind. Laura treated her in much the same way when Clint brought her to the farm the first time, which was what made it such an easy and comfortable place to be. But, there's still a soft sound of surprise that moves into a laugh. Yes, the both of them will get along just fine.

She moves around the coffee table and sits, eager to finally get to her tea Tom before her eyes look back to Arthur, nodding before he can even get the question out about whether or not she'd be okay.

"I'll be fine. I have tea and good company. Go do what you need to do."

Being in his world meant he needs to continue living his life like he was before the City and that was something Natasha absolutely understands.

"See you when you get back."

Arthur nodded but held a second and just took in the view of them sitting there together before nodding again and turning to walk out. He knew she'd be safe here - no one else would know she was in their world, which protected her from the deep and if somehow, trouble came to the Lighthouse, he had to trust that she was strong enough to kick some ass next to Tom.

If he was quick enough, he could catch a patrol and mug them of their respirator. Atlantean technology wasn't exactly geared towards air breathers, but the helmets of the more elite could go both ways to protect those that could breathe air topside if something happened. It would be perfect for her.

He hadn't even asked if she wanted to join the fight. Arthur would swear at himself if they hadn't both been dropped back into the world like he'd never left for not thinking and planning more clearly, but there was room for it in the situation they were in. The good news is that, unbeknownst to Arthur, they'd been dropped back several hours before he and Mera got into the Trench.

It took him a good forty minutes to find a suitable patrol and less than ten to beat them up, steal one of their suits, and race back to his father's house. He was really going to have to do some training with these men in years to come - it was far too easy.

Striding back into his father's house, still wet but not dripping like a wave, Arthur announced himself with a call. "Natasha?" The suit was wrapped up under his arm, helmet hanging from his fingers as he walked back into the living room. No matter what, Arthur was sure he didn't have much time before the start of the biggest war the land bearing world will never know about.

In the hours that Arthur was gone, Natasha and Tom spent most of it talking. She, of course, was genuinely herself and they discussed the City and the 5 years in her world that led up to her relocation. Thankfully, he believed her, knowing well enough that nothing was impossible and that extended to multiversal travel, too. Still, Natasha found herself hoping to make a good impression and give Tom every reason to believe she was good for Arthur.

Just as he was good for her.

After a few hours, Tom excused himself to start on some food for dinner and the redhead took to sit outside on a large Adirondack chair that was more comfortable than it had looked and before long, the brief closing of her eyes had turned into a pleasant nap.

Tom appears at the entrance to the kitchen. "She's out in the back," he answers, turning back to give the contents of his pot a stir. Arthur would barely pass him when he adds. "You know, I can see why you like her so much. She's got that same fire inside as you do."

And that was all Thomas Curry would say on the matter.

Arthur walked towards the kitchen after Tom, glancing at the pot of stew before stepping around him to peek out the back door at Natasha on her chair. She looked comfortable - that was something. He glanced back at his father, cocking a crooked smile as he headed the rest of the way out the door. Clearly things had gone well with them.

Setting the helmet down on the deck, Arthur squatted down, tucking the rolled suit on his legs and smiled at Natasha, brushing the backs of his fingers up and down her arm.

"Hey. Need to ask you something." He didn't know how she'd come up, being in a strange place or how much she really wanted to get into his shit. The only way to find out was asking.

It was the perfect way to wake up, though her sleep was light enough that she'd stirred the moment she heard his father speak to him in the kitchen. She smiles back at him, eyes still closed even as a note of contentment hums past pressed lips. It's been a day but Natasha looks far better than she did when he found her in the water.

"If this is about taking me out to dinner, I think your Dad is already making some. Maybe tomorrow?" she guesses, though it's pretty clear she knows he means he wants to talk about the piece of equipment that was sitting just within her periphery.

Natasha lifts her head up more and looks at him. "How did things go?"

She looked far more relaxed and rested, and a lot less like the most gorgeous half drowned woman he'd ever seen. Tucked up under a blanket that had been kicking around for years, well used and well loved, she looked like she belonged here, though he'd much rather see her on a sunny tropical beach instead of a Maine rocky coastline where the sea was almost never smooth and totally calm.

But she was still here. She hadn't left. That was something.

Arthur cracked a broad grin. "Our oyster bar is the best on the east coast." Doubtful but - His features sobered a little and he shifted with a pat on her hip so she would scoot over enough to let him perch on the edge of her lounger, elbows resting on his knees.

"Natasha, there's a war about to start in the water. Far from here, but.. I have to go save them. Stop Orm before he wins and turns his attention to up here." He looked at her, face drawn in his seriousness. "I've only got a few minutes." Glancing down, he pulled the suit from his lap and into his hands. "You'd be safer here.." But the choice was hers, in not so many words. "It'll mean missing Dad's dinner. And requiring another one if it goes the way we want it to."

He wasn't going to talk about him becoming King. He didn't know if he was going to win yet. He didn't know if it would happen. They could talk about it if it did. One battle at a time.

As much as she wants to live in the idea of some permanent vacation, Natasha was aware before even arriving that there was an impending war in Arthur's world and the multiverse made good on its promise of bringing someone back to the exact moment they left. The only difference here was that the multiverse wasn't supposed to deliver her as a bonus. So, she needs to think everything out because eventually, there might be a chance she goes back to her world. And how does that happen if, god forbid, she dies here?

She moves over, straightening a little more to sit upright and listens in silence as glances across the Atlantic as far as she can see, before pulling her eyes back down to look at the suit.

"You said Orm was planning to bring all the Atlantean's up to the shores so I don't know how safe I'd be if things go wrong down there. I'm also not the type to sit and wait when I know catastrophe is close by. I want to help. However I can." she nods with certainty, looking up at him.

If he could spirit her off to that world, that beach where peace and a good cocktail with an umbrella in would be the best part of her afternoon, he would. They hadn't been together long but there was no avoiding the fact that Arthur cared about her. He wanted to make her happy.

Maybe it would be something he could focus on after this war.

"I can't ask anyone to keep an eye on you and.. I will try but.. I'm not going to like to you. It's going to be dangerous. I.. I know what you can do. I respect it. But I don't want you to think you have to go down there. This isn't your fight. And I know you'd be safe here.."

He didn't want to take anything away from her or make her feel condescended too, and even with him having gone to get the suit, having it in his lap didn't make him feel any better. The idea of her going down there with him into an unfamiliar environment for a life and death battle.. he didn't like it. On land was a different story but on the deep sea floor?

"I lost to him, the first time I fought him down there. Not my turf. I don't want to see the same thing happen to you," he said earnestly, turning his golden eyes towards her, not afraid of what she might see there.

She knew when she was out of her league on something and there would be no argument on whether or not she can keep up. Sure, the circumstances of her arrival did put her at a disadvantage, but even she couldn't lie to herself by saying that she could be of any use. Natasha fought in wars, but they were all on firm ground.

Not being able to help him bothered her. And more than just a little.

Her eyes drift over his face, seeing that worry and concern in his. It would be the hardest thing for her to have to admit to, but Natasha wasn't immortal. Nor had she the kind of enhancements and regeneration that Steve had, which made the decision a pretty straight-forward one.

"I'll stay here," she nods, looking down to put her hand in his. "I don't know if anyone would be bold enough to come up here, but I got this covered."

Green eyes shift to meet his again.

"Make sure you come back. I didn't come all this way for a single afternoon with you."

Arthur let a breath of soft relief out of his nose as her hand slipped into his where he tangled their fingers without hesitation. Honestly, he was relieved. Things happened in battle and he wasn't ready to lose her so quickly after getting her back. There would no doubt be other fights, other battles that they would fight together, but this was a war that was already in the middle of progress.

Debriefing alone, much less making sure Natasha could handle the experience of the suit and being that far underwater, would take longer than they had right now. It would also put her in more of danger's way if she didn't have that in her practiced skills list.

"I'm counting on you to keep the old man safe. I ain't done with him yet." He squeezed her hand as he looked back up. He knew this was hard for her. "Or you. I'm comin' back."

He just might be coming back King. Pressing his lips to her knuckles, Arthur shifted the suit onto the ground and stood up.

"I'm not lettin' Orm take you away too."

Edited 2021-09-12 20:40 (UTC)

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