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South Tyrol was one of the most beautiful places Natasha Romanoff had ever been.
Nestled at the northernmost point of Italy, it was an idyllic landscape of mountains, valleys and lakes. It mixed Italian romance, Austrian design and German language. Most importantly of all, it was sparsely populated and remote. Often, within a 1-mile radius, there were more cows than humans.
Perfect.
Natasha smiled, digging her toes into the grass as she watched the wildflowers blow gently as a breeze passed over the meadow. She was having a well-earned holiday, thoroughly enjoying the experience of cutting herself off from the rest of the world and immersing herself somewhere tranquil.
It had been very different last time she had been there.
Five years ago, she had been in South Tyrol for a very different reason. A member of HYDRA had been tracked down to a location several miles away, and it had been Natasha's mission to arrest him. What had started off as a regular mission had quickly turned into what Clint had described as a "clusterfuck".
The HYDRA operative, having realised he was being followed, had grabbed a pregnant civilian to use as a human shield, holding a gun to her head. He had demanded that Natasha let him escape, threatening to kill the pregnant woman if Natasha did not comply.
The operative had been bluffing, driven by desperation rather than determination. Natasha had seen it in the way his hand shook; the way his finger was not properly wrapped around the gun's trigger. Striking fast, before the man could solidify his resolve, Natasha had shot him in the face with her night-night pistol, the chemical dart penetrating his skin and instantly rendering him unconscious.
She had arrested him, handcuffing his unconscious body and dumping him in the back seat of her car. She had given the pregnant woman a ride home, chatting with her as their passenger snored in the back seat. The woman's name was Annika, and she had been full of questions: What's happening? How does your gun work? Who are you?
To the last question, Natasha had given her a wink and quipped back: "I'm the Black Widow. The Red Death. Evil hears my name and quivers."
Annika had looked confused, and Natasha had laughed, giving her a reassuring smile.
"It doesn't matter who I am," she had said. "I'm one of the good guys, that's all you need to know. It's my job to fight bad guys."
Annika had appeared alarmed.
"Are there any more bad guys around here?" she had asked, a hand settling protectively on her baby bump.
Natasha's gaze had softened. She had shaken her head, assuring the woman that she would be safe. She had been extracted from South Tyrol that evening by Quinjet, SHIELD sending her on yet another mission, but she had noted the stunning scenery and made a mental note to return.
Now, five years later, she was finally back – this time as a tourist.
So, there she was, sitting with her shoes off in the meadow, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face and the sound of the wind blowing through the wildflowers. She turned her face up to the sun, closing her eyes and exhaling as she relaxed.
There were no end of the world-style disasters to deal with; no world takeover attempts or alien invasions. It was just her, the valleys and the mountains. Peace and quiet, at last.
Ding!
Natasha sighed. Modern technology made it impossible to completely step away from regular life. Opening her eyes, she pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket, finding that Steve had sent a message to the Avengers' group chat on WhatsApp.
She opened the message, her lips quirking upwards when she saw a selfie of Steve in front of a toy shop window, little figurines of the Avengers visible behind him, along with the message #MerchWars.
Natasha snorted. #MerchWars was a silly game that they played; a little competition to see who could find the best merchandise of themselves. She examined the picture more closely, finding to her disappointment that there were figurines of the male Avengers only.
She sent off a quick reply, her thumbs tapping rapidly against the screen.
From: Natasha
Looks like all the Black Widow merch has already sold out! ;)
She put her phone back in her pocket, frowning slightly as she gazed out over the meadow. It was a pattern that she had noticed – this lack of merchandise about her. On the one hand, she did not mind remaining relatively anonymous; it was good for a spy, after all. On the other hand, she did sometimes ponder the reasons why there was less merchandise about her, and the reasons she came up with left her with an unpleasant taste in her mouth. Was it sexism? Was she seen as less important than the other Avengers, because she was a woman?
Being a spy was a thankless job – she always left as soon as a mission was completed, never staying around to see the lives that were improved as a result – and this lack of merchandise did nothing but fuel her sense that perhaps her actions were not as important as people said they were.
Sometimes, she wondered whether she was doing a good job at all. Every day, there seemed to be a new blog post or opinion piece in the newspapers about whether the Avengers did more harm than good. The UN was even drafting the so-called Sokovia Accords to legislate on the activities of the Avengers.
She shook herself, berating herself for thinking about work on what was supposed to be a holiday. Slipping her feet into her shoes, she stood up and began to walk through the meadow, heading down into the valley to explore. She discovered a burbling stream at the bottom of the meadow, finding a rock to perch upon to watch a herd of wild cows lumbering along on the other side of the flowing water. She stayed there for almost an hour, alternating between appreciating the natural beauty around her and getting lost in her thoughts.
With the midday sun beating down on her, she soon had to move once more, this time seeking sustenance and shade. She remembered passing a small village earlier that morning and decided to head back in that direction, recalling several signs promoting a cafe and ice cream parlour. As she trudged along, sweat began to drip down her neck, her fair skin prickling under the Mediterranean sun.
By the time she reached the village some twenty minutes later, she was hot, thirsty and ready to flop down in whatever shade she could find. She followed the signs for the ice cream parlour, silently thanking her Red Room Academy language training for her ability to read and speak fluent German.
She rounded the corner onto a picturesque little street, chocolate box beautiful with cobbles on the road and thick wooden beams on the buildings. She saw the ice cream parlour right in front of her, a large photo of a delicious-looking sundae stuck on the parlour window. She felt her mouth water in anticipation, before she startled, doing a double-take.
The ice cream parlour had her name on it.
Not in the metaphorical sense, but literally.
Written in beautiful swirling script was the name of the establishment: The Black Widow Ice Cream Parlour.
Feeling distinctly confused, she walked up to the parlour window, pressing her face against the glass and peering inside. Her eyes widened with shock. Painted in bold, bright paint on the parlour wall was a depiction of some kind of wolf-dragon hybrid. A wolf's head and body had large, scaly dragon wings sprouting from its sides – but that was not the strangest part about the painting. Riding on the wolf-dragon's back was Natasha. She was unmistakable, the face a splitting image of her own, the hair her very same shade of fiery red. Painted above this, again, was The Black Widow Ice Cream Parlour.
She stared inside, her mouth agog, her brain failing to comprehend what her eyes were seeing. Reaching for her arm, she pinched herself hard, checking whether in fact she was dreaming. She did not awaken. Faced with the bizarre fact that this was reality, she swallowed back her incredulity and gave in to her raging curiosity, entering the ice cream parlour.
The owner was nowhere to be seen, although Natasha could hear them moving around in the backroom. She stepped up to the counter and looked down at the various flavours of ice cream available, her eyes once more popping with shock.
The Black Widow – blackcurrant!
The Red Death – cherry, raspberry and strawberry!
The Civilian Disguise – vanilla!
Natasha stared down helplessly at the various flavours, at a loss to comprehend what was happening. She was torn between shock, confusion and an insane level of curiosity. What was happening? Was she having a stroke? Was she having some bizarre form of mental breakdown? Why was everything in this tiny ice cream parlour about her?
"Black Widow?" asked a voice.
Natasha looked up, her eyes falling onto the face of a woman she had not seen for five years. The last time she had seen this woman, she had been pregnant and in a state of shock at having had a gun pointed to her head by a HYDRA operative.
It was Annika.
Annika rushed out from behind the counter, wrapping her arms around Natasha and pulling her in for a bone-crushing hug. Natasha returned the hug, stunned as Annika began to cry with happiness. She patted the woman's back awkwardly, completely out of her depth at how to deal with the situation.
After several long minutes, Annika released her from the hug and stepped back, beaming with joy.
"Oh my God, this is amazing. I can't believe you're here!" said Annika. "Do you remember me?"
Natasha nodded, dazed. Pulling herself together, she smiled and switched her brain to German mode, replying to Annika in the woman's native tongue.
"Of course I remember you, Annika."
Annika's smile stretched, if possible, even wider. Tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder, she called out in the direction of the backroom.
"Felix! Lena!"
Natasha heard feet running on the floor above, followed by the sound of them thundering down the stairs. A moment later, a little girl burst into the room, closely followed by a little boy of the same age. They both had Annika's brown hair and round, smiley face. They snuggled up to Annika, one on each side of her, and looked up at Natasha curiously.
"I was pregnant with twins when you saved me," she said. "These are Felix and Lena."
Natasha smiled down at the children, giving them a wave. Felix and Lena did not reply, edging behind their mother shyly as they clung to her waist. Annika smiled down at the twins, putting a reassuring hand on both their shoulders.
"I run this ice cream parlour," continued Annika. "I set it up by myself, a few years ago."
Natasha's eyebrows shot up, impressed.
"That's awesome," she said. "It must have been hard, what with having the twins as well."
Annika laughed.
"Motherhood toughens you up," she said. "What flavour of ice cream do you want?"
Natasha cast her eye down at the various flavours available, trying not to be perturbed by the Black Widow-inspired names. She licked her lips, her throat suddenly parched as she examined the delicious spread available.
"I'll have The Red Death," she said. "Cherry, raspberry and strawberry."
Annika grinned, stepping behind the counter to scoop out a generous portion into a bowl.
"The Red Death," she said cheerfully. "Coming right up."
Natasha took a seat at the nearest booth, finding herself staring at the painting of her on the wall, riding the wolf-dragon with a victorious expression on her face. She discreetly pinched her arm again, bewildered by the surrealness of the situation. She was brought back to the present when Annika slid into the seat opposite her, pushing a generous portion of ice cream in front of her. Lena and Felix sat down on either side of their mother, Felix crawling over Annika's lap to reach the far side of the booth.
"So, how are you?" asked Annika, an expression that could only be described as heart eyes plastered across her face.
Unused to being the subject of such adoration, Natasha dropped her eyes downwards, her gaze falling upon her ice cream. She scooped up a spoonful and stuck it in her mouth, her eyes widening as the sweet, fruity flavours exploded on her tongue. She moaned appreciatively, a smile quirking her lips when Annika visibly vibrated with excitement at her sound of approval.
Natasha swallowed the ice cream with a happy sigh, finding herself relaxing. It was strange, admittedly, to have crossed paths with Annika again and discovered an ice cream parlour fashioned in her likeness, but Annika was so warm, welcoming and genuine that it did not feel uncomfortable.
"I've been pretty busy," said Natasha. "I had to stop HYDRA from slaughtering millions of people using the Helicarriers back in 2012. And more recently there were the murder bots in Sokovia."
She looked up to see Annika tactfully covering her children's ears, still smiling as she nodded along with Natasha's story. Natasha blushed, grimacing apologetically.
"Sorry," she muttered. "I'm not used to being around children."
Annika uncovered the twins' ears with a laugh, smiling down at them.
"Do you know who this is? This is the Black Widow!"
Felix and Lena gasped loudly, the shyness from earlier dissipating immediately. Grins erupted on their faces and they vaulted over the table, settling down on either side of Natasha and wrapping their arms around her waist in an enthusiastic hug.
Natasha stared down at them, in equal parts stunned and confused by their reaction.
"Black Widow!" shouted Felix.
"I love you, Black Widow!" said Lena.
Natasha smiled down at them, her heart melting as they gazed up at her with such love and innocence.
"Please, you can call me Natasha," she said.
"Natasha," echoed Annika, almost reverently. "I tell my children about you all the time. You're their favourite bedtime story."
Natasha's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Wow," she said. "I didn't realise I was story material."
Annika laughed, waiting for Natasha to join in. When she did not, her eyes widened incredulously.
"Wait, are you being serious?"
Natasha shrugged uncomfortably.
"I'm no one special," she said. "I just do my job."
Annika stared at her, dumbstruck. Her cheeks flushed red, blinking back tears as she shook her head.
"No," said Annika, with a surprising amount of force. "You're wrong. You are special."
Natasha bit her lip. By her side, Felix reached out a hand and dipped his finger into the goo at the bottom of Natasha's ice cream bowl. She did not stop him, smiling weakly when his little pink tongue flicked out to lick the ice cream from his finger.
"Listen," said Natasha. "I know you must see me as some kind of hero, but there are thousands of other men and women just like me in SHIELD."
Annika was silent for a long while. Natasha berated herself internally, worried that she had upset the young mother. To give herself time, she ate more of her ice cream, mentally scrambling for some way to save the conversation.
"I wouldn't be alive, if it weren't for you," said Annika softly.
Natasha froze, the words penetrating deep into her psyche. She lowered her spoon slowly, her heart clenching when she saw the misty-eyed expression on Annika's face.
"My children wouldn't be alive, if it weren't for you," said Annika. "You're a hero and an inspiration – not just to my kids but to myself too. Meeting you made me feel empowered to start my own business. I saw you take down a Nazi thug and hogtie him in the back of your car like it was nothing. I saw you do that, and it made me realise that I'm capable of great things too, if I put my mind to it.
"You may not see yourself as special, but I do. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for saving my children's lives. None of us would be sitting here today, if it weren't for you."
Natasha sat in stunned silence, letting the words sink in. This was the first time anyone had ever thanked her for saving them. It was the first time she was getting to see the consequences of her actions in the field. What had been just another day at work for her had completely changed the life of the woman sitting opposite her. It triggered in her a great sense of pride and also grave responsibility.
Swallowing past a lump in her throat, she reached out across the table and squeezed Annika's hand gently. The other woman's hand felt warm and soft. Alive. Because of Natasha.
"Thank you," said Natasha.
Annika gave her a small smile, her thumb brushing over the back of Natasha's hand.
"How many people did you save, when you stopped HYDRA? And the bots in Sokovia?" asked Annika.
"I don't know," said Natasha. "Thousands? Maybe more. It's difficult to estimate."
Annika looked at her, her brown eyes both warm and sad at the same time.
"You've saved thousands, maybe millions of lives, and you don't think you're bedtime story material?" said Annika quietly. "I think you're a superhero."
Natasha swallowed a lump in her throat, touched by such genuine and unexpected kindness and appreciation. Hearing Annika talk about her in such terms was affecting her in a way she had never expected. She hid her glistening eyes by ducking her head down and stuffing a large spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, immediately giving herself brain freeze.
By her side, Lena tugged at her arm. Natasha looked down at the little girl, smiling as Lena beamed up at her.
"Do you prefer wolves or dragons?" asked Lena eagerly.
Felix wrapped his arms around Natasha's waist, throwing his little legs over her lap as he snuggled up to her side.
"My favourite animal is a dragon," he said. "And Lena's favourite animal is a wolf. That's why you're riding a wolf-dragon on the wall – because compost is important."
Natasha cocked her head to the side, unsure if she had heard correctly.
"Compost?"
"He means compromise," explained Annika, smiling.
Natasha nodded with understanding, before looking down at the two children nestled against her sides.
"Well, that's a very difficult question," she said. "Some days, I like to howl like a wolf. But other days, I like to breathe fire like a dragon."
Felix's eyes widened, his jaw dropping as he stared up at Natasha in awe.
"You can breathe fire?!" he said.
Natasha nodded.
Felix bounced in his seat, looking overjoyed as he squealed with excitement.
"You're the coolest person ever!" he said.
Lena touched her arm to get her attention, her calm, serene expression a direct contrast to her brother's giddy excitement.
"Mummy told us that you're brave and good," she said. "When I grow up, I want to be just like you."
Natasha stared down at Lena, stunned into silence. Never, when she had come to South Tyrol five years ago, had she imagined she would become a figure of inspiration for a little girl.
"How long are you staying in the area?" said Annika. "It would be an honour to have you stay with us. We can cook you the local delicacies and take you out, show you the most beautiful walks around here."
Natasha smiled, a soft, happy glow warming her from the inside out. Sitting here, with this kind, beautiful family, she could think of nothing better than spending the rest of her holiday in their company, getting to know them better.
"I would love that," she said earnestly. "I'm staying for another eight days."
"I'll go and prepare the spare room," said Annika, a delighted smile lighting up her face. "Lena, Felix, come and help Mummy."
The twins slipped out of the booth, Felix scrambling over Natasha's lap like an ungainly baby giraffe.
"I'll be back down soon," said Annika, turning to Natasha as the children ran out of the back door and up the stairs. "If any customers come in, will you tell them to ring the bell on the counter?"
Natasha smiled and nodded, watching as Annika disappeared up the stairs after her children.
She ate the rest of her ice cream, savouring the fresh, mouth-watering flavours on her tongue. As she put down her spoon in the empty bowl, her eyes fell upon two small pairs of children's shoes behind the counter: Lena and Felix's.
She stared at the shoes, pondering how different things would have been if she had failed to save Annika from the HYDRA operative five years previously. It humbled her, to have held the weight of their lives in her hands.
Seeing the impact of saving Annika's life, all around her, made her feel a fierce sense of both pride and protectiveness. These people, and countless other people like them, were her legacy, her reason for getting up every morning and doing good in the world. Every life that she saved had a ripple effect – a whole circle of friends and family and unborn children. She breathed deeply, her mind reeling from being confronted with such a visceral reminder that the lives she saved were more than just numbers, but real people.
She looked around the ice cream parlour, her eyes lingering on the painting of her on the wall, riding the wolf-dragon. It had obviously been hand-painted by Annika. She would have to ask to see other examples of Annika's art. She had so much to learn about her.
As she stared at the painting, she was struck by an idea. She fished her mobile phone out of her pocket and turned on the front camera. Turning around so that the painting was behind her, she snapped a selfie, making sure that the both painting and the text The Black Widow Ice Cream Parlour were clearly visible.
Pulling up the Avengers group chat on WhatsApp, she uploaded the selfie and pressed send.
Her thumbs flying across the screen, she sent a message, a grin spreading across her face.
From: Natasha
I think I just won #MerchWars. Like, forever.