[Natasha hasn't been avoiding him, per se. She's just been a little awkward, doesn't look at him if she can help it, but even that isn't entirely cold. She just doesn't quite know what to do with him, what to make of him, thinks of him far more often than she's comfortable with and that bothers her.
But Wash had told her to play nice with him and she'd said she'd make it work. So she was. She didn't really know what to do, precisely. Someone else might have walked up to him and asked to have a talk or something else notoriously boring. But, well, they were spies. The thing she settles on can only end poorly, but at least it's an attempt.
Which is to say she finds him late one night, a bottle of wine dangling from one hand and two wineglasses that look a little too fine to have been borrowed from the kitchen in her other. She's in a dress she'd bought in Vorkosigan Vashnoi, deep red, and the Cetagandan trend of ornate facepaint traded in for red lips and dark accents around her blue eyes. For once, the effect isn't for him, but because he'd disarmed her before so that slipping on a layer of armor is the only sane response.
There's a knife strapped to her thigh, and even standing there with a curve of a smile that's half wicked and half conspiratorial she's not sure if it's supposed to be a threat or an invitation.] I don't suppose you'd be inclined to join me for a drink? I'm not sure I know anyone else that might appreciate it.
[The bottle dangling between her fingers happens to be a very excellent bottle of Vorkosigan wine, which the Cetagandan kitchen staff had insisted simply couldn't be had here, that first meeting when they'd danced and then discussed wine and tea. It's not an apology. It's just- something.]
[Closed to Wash, post-Kidnapping]
[Natasha isn't handling things well, to put it mildly. She didn't know Sonia, but she doesn't have to. That's not the point. The point is watching her, being close enough to see how scared she'd been, but not close enough to do something about it. Feeling like she'd failed. She'd gone along because it had been clear that something was going on, but she'd thought it was simply tightening restrictions on Riverfall, had planned to slip a note to Wash to update him on the situation in one of their drops. In the end, she'd done that anyway, but it was in a much more bitter mood, the note instead left at their arranged meeting spot so he could find her somewhere that wasn't here.
She saw it going to pieces, but not in time to do anything. And once the shooting started there was nothing she could do to stop it except try to get the villagers out of the way as much as she could, sometimes by stunning them before someone used a nerve disruptor. Try to get to Sonia, get her away. She wasn't fast enough. It's not the first time she's felt the weight of what she lost here, but it's the first time that it's felt so crushing. This was the sort of thing that she was made for, that she could have done on her own almost without blinking, once upon a time. But without a gun, without her tools, with her skills but none of her the things that tipped the scales in her favor? It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
She's waiting out in the forest, jittery, all nerves, a burn up the side of her arm from where she'd been too close to a plasma rifle. It's mostly topical, but the skin's an angry red. She'd brought her bag from the base, planning to hide it somewhere around here, somewhere she could get to it once she got Sonia out-- But for the moment she fidgets with her fingers, eyes darting, Waiting. If Wash was expecting her to be the rational objective one, he's going to be very disappointed.]
[Open]
[Before the 10th, things are normal enough. She even volunteers to help out in the kitchen and seems to enjoy it well enough. A smile on her lips more often than not. She can be found in the gym most mornings and evenings, either dancing ballet or working with weights and sometimes practicing forms for the peace of mind.
After the 10th, she gets a little scarce, though she still shows up for her rotations in the gene lab without fail. Her edges soften a bit after a couple days, like she remembers how to catch her breath or remembers the stakes. She doesn't sleep much, but that's normal enough for her, isn't it?]
[I will totally write starters for people so if you want something just hit me up at natalia_vdova and I will work something out~]
no subject
[Natasha hasn't been avoiding him, per se. She's just been a little awkward, doesn't look at him if she can help it, but even that isn't entirely cold. She just doesn't quite know what to do with him, what to make of him, thinks of him far more often than she's comfortable with and that bothers her.
But Wash had told her to play nice with him and she'd said she'd make it work. So she was. She didn't really know what to do, precisely. Someone else might have walked up to him and asked to have a talk or something else notoriously boring. But, well, they were spies. The thing she settles on can only end poorly, but at least it's an attempt.
Which is to say she finds him late one night, a bottle of wine dangling from one hand and two wineglasses that look a little too fine to have been borrowed from the kitchen in her other. She's in a dress she'd bought in Vorkosigan Vashnoi, deep red, and the Cetagandan trend of ornate facepaint traded in for red lips and dark accents around her blue eyes. For once, the effect isn't for him, but because he'd disarmed her before so that slipping on a layer of armor is the only sane response.
There's a knife strapped to her thigh, and even standing there with a curve of a smile that's half wicked and half conspiratorial she's not sure if it's supposed to be a threat or an invitation.] I don't suppose you'd be inclined to join me for a drink? I'm not sure I know anyone else that might appreciate it.
[The bottle dangling between her fingers happens to be a very excellent bottle of Vorkosigan wine, which the Cetagandan kitchen staff had insisted simply couldn't be had here, that first meeting when they'd danced and then discussed wine and tea. It's not an apology. It's just- something.]
[Closed to Wash, post-Kidnapping]
[Natasha isn't handling things well, to put it mildly. She didn't know Sonia, but she doesn't have to. That's not the point. The point is watching her, being close enough to see how scared she'd been, but not close enough to do something about it. Feeling like she'd failed. She'd gone along because it had been clear that something was going on, but she'd thought it was simply tightening restrictions on Riverfall, had planned to slip a note to Wash to update him on the situation in one of their drops. In the end, she'd done that anyway, but it was in a much more bitter mood, the note instead left at their arranged meeting spot so he could find her somewhere that wasn't here.
She saw it going to pieces, but not in time to do anything. And once the shooting started there was nothing she could do to stop it except try to get the villagers out of the way as much as she could, sometimes by stunning them before someone used a nerve disruptor. Try to get to Sonia, get her away. She wasn't fast enough. It's not the first time she's felt the weight of what she lost here, but it's the first time that it's felt so crushing. This was the sort of thing that she was made for, that she could have done on her own almost without blinking, once upon a time. But without a gun, without her tools, with her skills but none of her the things that tipped the scales in her favor? It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
She's waiting out in the forest, jittery, all nerves, a burn up the side of her arm from where she'd been too close to a plasma rifle. It's mostly topical, but the skin's an angry red. She'd brought her bag from the base, planning to hide it somewhere around here, somewhere she could get to it once she got Sonia out-- But for the moment she fidgets with her fingers, eyes darting, Waiting. If Wash was expecting her to be the rational objective one, he's going to be very disappointed.]
[Open]
[Before the 10th, things are normal enough. She even volunteers to help out in the kitchen and seems to enjoy it well enough. A smile on her lips more often than not. She can be found in the gym most mornings and evenings, either dancing ballet or working with weights and sometimes practicing forms for the peace of mind.
After the 10th, she gets a little scarce, though she still shows up for her rotations in the gene lab without fail. Her edges soften a bit after a couple days, like she remembers how to catch her breath or remembers the stakes. She doesn't sleep much, but that's normal enough for her, isn't it?]
[I will totally write starters for people so if you want something just hit me up at