A home for two

Natasha followed Bobbi into the house, carrying her own things. No, she wasn't in a mood to be silly, but that was due to the minor factor of wanting to be alone with Bobbi for the past few nights and having that request denied repeatedly. Not because of sex, but just the simple need for some alone time late at night. Though it was never said out loud, the redhead actually did enjoy cuddling. But now that they had their own place, Nat could relax and have all the late night intimacies, whether innocent or not, as she wanted.

"And what bedroom do I get to claim, since the master is already taken? Or, is there a way for me to get friendly with the mistress of the house. Asgardian winters might get rather cold. She may need a bed warmer on some nights." It was a half-assed tease, but at least she was making an effort. Following her into the kitchen, Natasha noticed the slight change of expression on Bobbi's face as she looked around the kitchen. "Don't worry, I know how to cook. It's not that different from some of the Russian kitchens I grew up with," she told her, reassuringly. Nothing seemed too primitive or foreign, at least not at the moment. Not that Russian cuisine tended to be the most complicated of food to prepare. They would be fine.

At the mention of a dog, Natasha gave Bobbi a long look. "Why do we need a dog? Have you seen the ones that they have here? They are big enough to saddle and ride." And wasn't exactly an exaggeration. She had seen a cart being pulled by what looked like normal tabby cats, save for the fact that they were the size of small ponies. It seemed that most of the animals here could range in size from 'normal' to 'you could ride it'. She always seemed to want a dog, ever since they had been together. "This is something that rubbed off from Clint, isn't it?" she asked, knowing how much he loved animals.

"I'll have you know that I have been trained in the art of snuggles and cuddles, and I have more than a few medals in less innocent things. I enjoy that kind of work," she smiled, wrapping her arms around Bobbi. "I will make sure you won't get sick. I'll make sure you're strong and healthy from a good meal. From every meal I make for you." She did frown though at the idea of this place going all high tech. In her opinion, Tony didn't need to get anywhere near improving Asgard. "Is that what you would like for dinner? Pizza? I can make you pizza, or the closest thing to it that could pass as pizza for the time being." She puzzled over it for a few moments; cheese, dough, meat... aside from a few toppings, they could easily make pizzas in no time.

"Wait, what is this? You're wanting to be protected? I thought you said we were safe here, that we didn't need to worry about dangerous things like poisonous snakes," she teased, nibbling her neck. "You called me paranoid for wanting to be an Asgardian, but getting a giant dog isn't too far-fetched?" For a few moments, Natasha was happy with holding her close and simply breathing in her scent. "What kind of dog would you like? Color? Gender? Tendency to eat snakes?"

“Well, isn’t that why you chose me for this assignment? Due to my proficiencies in such areas? If not, I’m afraid I may have to be re-assigned to an area more suited for my abilities,” she joked, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief, almost daring Bobbi to say something. “And I did not get you into eating organic food. All I did was simply cook a few meals with actual fresh food. It wasn’t my fault that you had a nearly orgasmic reaction when I first made breakfast for you. You acted as if you had never had a farm fresh egg before. As for the MREs, they’re still good for you. I’ll admit that the early version, particularly the Soviet ones, weren’t exactly edible, but you never complained.” Otherwise you just wouldn’t eat. As for the candy bar, the look on Natasha’s face was priceless when she realized they likely wouldn’t have chocolate on Asgard. She groaned at the thought. “What is the possibility that these people have been introduced to the concept of chocolate?”

“Oh, so you only love me for my pizza making ability? I see how it is. Well, I’m not opening up a chain of ‘Black Widow’s Pizzeria’ restaurants just for you. But, I will see what I can come up with.” Already Natasha was coming up with a list of ingredients in her head. The hard part would likely be the tomato sauce, though she could possibly substitute olive oil or a white sauce for it. If Bobbi allowed such things.

The laughter in her eyes died when Bobbi mentioned Viper having kryptonite. “I told you she would be trouble. And as for finding lead? It’s a common ore. If they have gold, silver, iron, bronze, and the like, then lead is not a hard item to come by, so I doubt she’ll die a slow, horrible, cancerous death. If she keeps it. With all the powers and artifacts on Asgard, who knows if she will.” A society where archaic magic was at the core of everything, it was hard to go anywhere that wasn’t ‘magic-ish’. “Excuse me, Ms. Two Inches Taller Than The Russian, are you calling me short? Are you saying it’s better for me to be tiny, get lost underfoot, and be unnoticed? Me, the redheaded foreign woman who often runs around in a black catsuit with her cleavage hanging out, using it as a distraction?” she smirked. “Now, if you were a man, you would never pass up the chance of having a tall, muscled Red Sonja to sleep with. That is your problem. But I suppose the short spy is better,” she agreed with a kiss. “We’ll find a local kennel and get you a puppy then.”

"How am I naughty? I am simply just discussing where I would best fit in for assignments. Nothing more," Natasha said with a smirks and a kiss. "I swear, you're turning into Fury, thinking I want to try and wiggle out of assignments and duties. And I was not nearly naked, unless you count a tank top and boy shorts as nearly naked, which I don't." While Natasha didn't know any purple haired girls besides Betsy Braddock, she did smile at the fact that ice cream and chocolate still existed in this world. It made her feel that much better.

"Okay, I'll deal with getting pizza made, you deal with preventing lead boxes from being made. How does that sound? But, if you think about it, those chains are still here somewhere on Asgard. If they aren't properly disposed of, it could end up being a bad thing." As for Bobbi's conclusion regarding spies, Natasha just smiled. "Yes and no. Spies are meant to do both. We have to be quiet and incognito when needed, but also we must catch the eyes of our targets if we need to get close, otherwise we can't learn any secrets. Spies are noticed only when they need to be. And I wasn't saying men only like the Red Sonja type, but clearly I am not that at the moment. How about this? I go out and get supplies for pizza making and when I get back, we'll further discuss the merits of males fantasies and reality... or something."

It didn't take the redhead long to find most of the ingredients for her meal and, luckily, more than enough vendors knew about the influx of refugees, therefore they were willing to give away items for free for the time being. The only ingredient they lacked were tomatoes, which made sense as they were a new world plant. So a sauceless pizza would be made until they could come up with an alternative. Returning home, Natasha set about making dinner. "No critiquing this meal. It's a first for me in a lot of areas, so I won't know how it will be until we eat."

"What are you, ten? Using the 'because I said so' tactic rarely ever works with me." However, the 'sleeping on the couch' tactic usually trumped Natasha's efforts. She pondered her options for a few moments before kissing the raised finger. "I like sleeping with you." And she left her answer at that.

"I know things won't be the same between realms. Hell, I haven't even been to that many. I'm starting from scratch it seems. But I promise to be careful and not do anything to harsh or drastic." And if she did, there was no way she would ever tell Bobbi about it. There would be no end to it, if she did.

The pizza actually turned out rather well. True, there was no temperature gauge or timer, so they had to make due with touch, sight, and smell, and the crust ended up a little burnt around the edges, but the redhead would have considered it a success. But then again, compared to some of the food and cooking she's had to deal with in the past, this could almost be considered perfect. Maybe. Natasha glanced over at Bobbi, hoping for some sense of approval or anything. She just didn't know why she was feeling so unsure about things recently. Hopefully with time, things would get better. "So Miss Morse, how do I rate as a pizza chef? Good enough or am I banished from the kitchen?"

For dessert, or dinner if the pizza failed on an insane level, Natasha had stopped by one of bakeries and brought home more than a few loafs of bread, baked goods, and sweets. She also managed to procure a bottle of mead, so if things really went bad at least they could get drunk and not remember any of it in the morning. "I'm not sure if we should do a toast or not..." After all, she wasn't sure what there was to toast.

"Seeing as how I'm fifty-seven or so years older than you, Bobbi, I've been a pedobear ever since the start of this relationship," Natasha smirked. "It feels normal, since almost every relationship I've had since.... the sixties, I've been older than the other person."

The redhead was quiet for a few moments before finally answering. "You know that I might have to do things or get into situations that are unexpected. It's the life of a spy. I will try to be careful. I will also try to tell you things. It would just all depend on the circumstance, Bobbi. You know that." Natasha hoped that this was enough of an explanation, at least for now. However, from the look she was getting, she doubted that Bobbi would believe her. "I'll get the couch ready to be my bed for the next month..."

Hearing Bobbi's suggestion for relaxing on the porch, Natasha nodded and grabbed a blanket along with the bottle of mead, two glasses, and a few of the dessert pastries. She didn't know how cold it got during the evenings in Asgard, but the likelihood that they would snuggle and possibly fall asleep together seemed high, so she wanted to be prepared just for that. Pouring the alcohol, Natasha loving wrapped the blanket around Bobbi, holding her close as they sat and relaxed. "Thank you for being here for me. I'm a lucky girl."

"A turkey vulture? Are you saying that I go after dead things, Bobbi? Because they really don't hunt as much as you think, and you don't look that decayed and zombie-like like to me. At least not unless it's morning and pre-coffee ingestion," she smirked back, joking at the blonde. "And yes, you're right. You have quite the effect on me. I don't even look ninety some years old anymore," Natasha chuckled, pulling her into a tender and loving kiss.

At the mention of the promises made in the bunker, the redhead frowned and grumbled a little. "I know, I know. I remember what we both promised and I will keep that promise. The priority of this Russian teddy bear is to keep you happy and warm and to make sure you hibernate properly, since little birds never know what to do during Russian winters," she smiled, nuzzling and nibbling Bobbi's neck as they snuggled under the blanket together.

"Luck, fate, it doesn't matter. I just know that I'm always happy with you, Bobbi," she told her softly, looking into her eye and gently kissing the patch. "How is it by the way? Do we need to find a doctor to look at it?" There was no way she was about to let up on that injury, even if it did sort of ruin the mood.