At SHIELD, Nick Fury reviewed the report with a deep frown.
"A week," he said. "And you've got nothing."
Natasha didn't raise her voice.
"I don't have evidence," she corrected. "I have an intuition that won't shut up."
Fury glanced at her sideways.
"Romanoff, if this were just a hunch, I'd have pulled you out already."
"It's not a hunch," she replied. "It's a strange void. And voids bother me."
Fury exhaled slowly.
"I'm relocating you."
Natasha looked up for the first time.
"No."
"Explain," Fury said.
"I want to finish this mission. If someone else steps in, they could irritate him and make us look like enemies. I'm already on good terms with him."
Silence.
Fury studied her for a few seconds longer.
"You're betting on something you can't define."
"Yes," Natasha admitted. "But it's always like that at the beginning."
"We still have a window," Fury said. "The kid might have abilities we don't understand."
He shook his head once.
"You've got clearance. But don't make me regret it."
Natasha allowed herself the faintest smile.
"I never do."
---
That same afternoon, Natasha was in her apartment, barefoot, holding a cup of tea that had already gone cold, when she heard something unexpected.
A knock at the door.
She blinked.
"Hm?"
She stood and opened it.
Eric was there, looking somewhere between shy and guilty, scratching the back of his neck like someone who'd remembered something important… too late.
"Hey," Eric said. "Uh… am I interrupting you?"
Natasha raised an amused eyebrow.
"Well," she replied, "the world really is upside down. I thought knocking on doors was my job."
Eric laughed nervously.
"Yeah… I know. Sorry about that."
"And what do I owe the honor?" Natasha asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Eric hesitated for a second.
"Honestly…" he said. "I realized you've been here for days and I haven't shown you anything around the neighborhood. And that's… expert-level bad neighbor etiquette."
Natasha smiled with genuine charm.
"Are you apologizing for not being a tour guide?"
"A little," Eric admitted. "I've been… busy."
She looked at him closely.
"With what?" she asked lightly.
Eric thought of his sister. Of hospital bills. Of his YouTube channels. Of his job destabilizing the universe.
"With life," he answered. "Mine and other people's."
Natasha tilted her head.
"That sounds very responsible. I forgive you."
Eric laughed, relieved.
A brief, comfortable silence followed.
"So," Natasha said, "what do you propose?"
Eric shrugged.
"Nothing exciting. A walk. I'll show you where not to eat, where you should… and where the elevator definitely doesn't work. And while we're at it, I'll introduce you to a little creature you're going to love."
He said it with quiet amusement.
Natasha grabbed her jacket.
"I'm in," she said. "But fair warning: if I get lost, it's on you."
Eric smiled.
"Deal."
As they stepped into the dusty hallway, Natasha thought the same thing she'd been thinking for days.
I haven't found anything…
And yet, she'd never been more certain of one thing:
Eric Valerian wasn't invisible.
He was intriguingly opaque.
And that made him worthy of her full attention.
---
After a long walk filled with laughter and mock complaints, Eric arrived at the building where his family lived.
The apartment door opened with its usual creak.
"I'm back," Eric announced casually—far too casually for what he'd just brought home with him.
"Excuse me," Natasha added politely.
Silence.
Miguel Valerian looked up from the couch.
His wife, Elena, froze with a kitchen towel half-folded.
And then they saw her.
Tall. Calm. Beautiful.
The air seemed to grow heavier all at once.
"Hello," Natasha said with impeccable kindness. "I'm Natasha."
"New neighbor. Eric's showing me around."
Miguel narrowed his eyes.
Elena opened her mouth slightly… then closed it again.
Eric cleared his throat.
"Uh… yeah. Neighbor. New. I thought… well…" He made a vague gesture with his hand. "We walked around a bit and—"
Too late.
A small figure shot forward like a missile with a ponytail.
"BROTHER!" Susana shouted, skidding to a stop right in front of Natasha and staring her up and down with absolute shamelessness. "Is she your girlfriend?"
Eric closed his eyes and pretended to remain functional.
"Susana—"
Natasha, on the other hand, crouched down to her level, amused, resting her hands on her knees.
"That's a very important question," Natasha said. "What do you think?"
Susana tilted her head, grinned mischievously, and answered without hesitation:
"I think you're really pretty!"
Natasha laughed.
"Good eye," she said. "But I think, for now, you're the only one who really wants that to happen."
Susana's eyes went wide.
"Really?"
"Really."
Miguel cleared his throat.
"Eric," he said. "Care to explain?"
Elena crossed her arms, looking at him with a mix of surprise, suspicion, and a very well-trained don't-hide-things-from-me expression.
Eric glanced at Natasha.
Natasha smiled, thoroughly enjoying the chaos.
Eric looked back at his parents.
He shrugged.
"Neighbor walk," he said. "I was showing her around."
"Uh-huh."
And yet…
Elena smiled warmly.
"Well then," she said at last, "since you're already here… would you like to stay for dinner?"
Natasha blinked, genuinely surprised.
"Really?"
"We don't turn away guests here," Elena replied. "We just interrogate them later."
Eric coughed.
"Mom… she's just my neighbor."
Susana grabbed Natasha's hand.
"Come on! I'll show you my room! I have a new laptop and I know how to use it!"
Natasha stood without resistance.
"That sounds interesting," she said. "Let's go."
Eric sank into a chair.
From the hallway came Susana's laughter, mixed with Natasha's.
Natasha observed and catalogued everything as she interacted with the family.
Because her mission was still the same.
And, strangely enough, it was becoming more fun by the minute.
Dinner ended with soft laughter.
For Natasha, it was… unexpected.
It wasn't the food. It was the normalcy of the family.
Miguel telling an old story.
Elena correcting him without raising her voice.
Susana talking with her mouth full while explaining why Thor was better than "the guy in the red suit."
Natasha smiled—genuinely.
And that unsettled her.
Because she recognized that warmth in her chest.
She'd felt it before. In another life. One that no longer existed.
Don't get confused. You're an agent. This is temporary, she told herself.
The feeling was pleasant.
And fleeting.
When they stood up from the table, Miguel grabbed his jacket.
"I'll walk you out," he said. "It's late."
Eric refused immediately.
"No need, Dad. It's literally across the street and one corner."
Natasha nodded calmly.
"Really, we're fine."
Miguel hesitated.
He looked at Eric with that clinical father's gaze—the kind earned through surviving too many things.
"Take care of her," he said at last.
Eric nodded, fully aware that she would probably be the one taking care of him.
They went down the stairs and walked a short distance.
But something was wrong.
The air around them was too quiet.
Natasha noticed it first.
The silence wasn't natural.
She stopped just before the sidewalk.
Eric did too.
"…Don't move," Natasha said softly.
Then the lights came on.
One.
Two.
Many.
Shadows emerged from alleys, parked cars, poorly lit corners.
There were a lot of them.
Around fifty men.
Visible firearms.
Confident stances.
Nothing improvised.
Natasha stepped forward instinctively, placing herself half an inch in front of Eric without making it look protective.
The group parted.
And then someone stepped out.
Dark suit. Perfectly pressed. Polite smile.
"Eric Valerian," the man said calmly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Eric looked at him with the serenity of someone who had already made peace with the night.
"You're late," Eric replied. "I already paid my debt."
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