He did not send her any more messages after that one, muttering under his breath about I.O.U.s and a repayment that was long overdue. He ignored Phil for most of the flight and only talked once they reached S.H.E.I.L.D. headquarters, requesting to take a piss, and to see Natasha, preferably one after the other, and not at the same time.
When he was finished in the bathroom he was brought to the preparation room, and he set the files handed to him on the table, sitting, legs spread, on one of the black chairs. “You know” He said, “I don’t think all your intel is correct."
Natasha looks up from the table, where she’s been flicking through her own copy of the file. "You never did,” she answers, leaning back in her own chair. Glancing over Sebastian with a vague detachment, she’s ever so slightly amused to see how little he’s changed.
Raising an eyebrow at him expectantly, she drums her fingers on the desk. While she might mock Sebastian, she asked for him because, despite everything, she trusts his instincts. “Just where are you getting that impression from?”
sebastian-tiger-moran reblogged this from inheritorofmemories and added:
Sebastian checked to make sure that his weapon was loaded, and the safety removed. He wasn’t allowed to kill it, but he...
inheritorofmemories reblogged this from sebastian-tiger-moran and added:
Natasha rolls her eyes, leaning back against the wall. “The only thing that’s changed is you’re old, Moran. I’ll be next...