Summary: Shortly after escaping Russia, James and Natalia take over New York City and instill one of the most well-respected crime hierarchies that the city has ever seen.
Another modern, crime AU. Not related to the last one.
There was something to be said about New York City's inner crime ring and the way it followed such a strict hierarchy. What had once been battleground territory was now rigidly and uncompromisingly distributed and organized. If the authorities had concerns about the speed at which the problem was taken care of or the brutality of it, they kept them to themselves.
There was something to be said about the secrets in New York City's inner crime ring and the way they spread like snakes through the city. Families that had fought brutally during the time of the Maranzano now spent minutes together spreading intel across streets. There were still fights and still disputes, but the damage never made it to the authorities. Perhaps they had Widow to thank for that.
"No one knows me, baby." Her laugh echoed through the phone receiver and against the kitchen walls. "You can't thank a myth."
"I can think of a way or two you can," James hummed in reply. "You got a way with words, doll. Ain't no one better."
"Careful there, lubyov moi," Natalia hummed, a warning that James would not heed. "I still have an errand to run before I can come home. That accent is sure to cause problems."
"Better get goin' then, doll face. Wouldn't want ya to lose your touch."
Natalia muttered a string of curses and James chuckled. There was no one more fun to tease than her.
"If you're not home when I am." She let the threat hover between them, hanging up before James could assure her that he hadn't gone further than the mailbox since she left that afternoon.
With Natalia out, he was keeping house for the day and she knew it. There was, quite frankly, no reason for him to be gone aside from a sudden disruption in the city that required his attention. As such, if he wasn't at home when she returned, she'd bring hellfire down on the city in revenge.
Perhaps it was a bit too domestic, but James didn't mind fixing bills and cooking dinner on days when Natalia took care of the city. She did such a lovely job of it, he couldn't fault her if he wanted to. Running the city underground took a different kind of finesse than he cared for, but Natalia thrived in it. She'd long since mastered the art of turning hellfire into something inviting, if not a bit coy. Governments fell overnight for it.
Coy and demure were not words that could be attributed to James in return. While Natalia made men eager to bend and bow, James made them cower and disappear from history. No one could be blamed for the murder of someone who didn't exist, after all.
What a picture he painted now, standing over the stove with a spatula in hand and his hair tied back almost neatly. If only their trainers were alive to see this, James thought with a dry chuckle. Too bad they didn't exist. Not anymore.
Hardly an hour after Natalia had called, the door opened soundlessly and closed with a soft click.
"Fun night on the town, darlin'?" James turned to greet her, a cup of tea already in hand.
"Pierce will have to go," she said, trading him the tea for her handgun. James stuffed it in his waistband and snaked an arm around her waist as she murmured, "He's done following our orders."
"You spoke with him?" James asked with a frown.
Natalia shook her head. She never spoke with them directly. It was the quickest way to be uncovered and tailed. There were others―those more expendable than her―that did the face-to-face talks.
"Maria tapped his calls." Old news. "He knew―" That was new news― "and tried to play in return, but you know men like him. They slip too easily."
The way she said it made him think it had actually been more complicated than that, but Natalia had never been someone to overestimate her own skills. If there was a problem she needed his help on, she would let him know.
"My tomorrow is free," James assured her. He pressed a kiss to her brow, but Natalia didn't let him pull away until he had kissed her properly. "Dinner's waitin', doll."
"I've had a long day," she countered, keeping a firm hold of his shirt collar. "I deserve at least a kiss."
"If you'll let me finish dinner," James murmured, his lips brushing hers, "I'll give you more than just that."
The taunt worked. Natalia's breath hitched and James stepped out of her arms with a gleam in his eye. He may have taken up the role of househusband during the day, but he was never one to hold out on his wife. Not even when he knew they'd both be strung into the city well before dawn.
Stark had never been James's favorite and times like these―when Stark called them in well before Manhattan began to wake―James's dislike for the man only grew.
"This is not how I wanted to wake up," he muttered, stepping out of the town car and looking up at the building.
Natalia stepped out behind him, linking her arm through his. "Tony wouldn't have called if it wasn't important."
James growled in disagreement, but Natalia had a firm hold on his arm and they were entering the tower before he could drag her back into the car. If Stark interrupted their morning one more time, James might just get rid of him. He'd deal with Natalia's wrath after the fact.
Despite the early hour, the tower doors slid open soundlessly to let them in. Not a soul was around to watch them cross the lobby and step into the elevator. While Stark's AI greeted them, James didn't bother with a response. Natalia―ever the charmer―did and as the elevator doors closed, she told the AI to take them to Stark.
As could be expected, the ride up was fast and smooth. It wasn't nearly long enough for James to admire the New York skyline and while Natalia stepped out immediately, James stayed behind to catch one last glimpse. When he turned back to follow Natalia, she was already pressing a short kiss to Stark's cheek and muttering something James couldn't make out.
"Set some whiskey out for you," Stark told him, nodding towards the kitchen. "I hear you like the good stuff."
"Not at four in the goddamn morning," James countered. He poured himself a glass anyway. "Your fiancée awake? Or are we here under less official terms?"
Stark ignored him entirely which was fine by James. He had simply come because Natalia asked him to, and who was he to deny her? When they left, he'd make sure she made it up to him. He was fortunate that the meeting took less than an hour.
"Sun's coming up, doll," James announced, stepping into Stark's office where Natalia had disappeared shortly after arriving. "We gotta hit the ground."
Natalia hummed. New York may be good at hiding them in plain sight, but cameras were everywhere and neither of them was keen on getting caught in one.
"Take care of Stone," Natalia told Stark, getting to her feet.
"Will do," Stark promised. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, nodded at James, and walked them to the elevator.
As the glass doors closed around them and they descended, James tucked his arm around Natalia and turned to admire the view once again.
"Cancel your hit on Pierce," Natalia told him, drawing his attention away from the skyline.
"What?"
"Cancel it," she repeated. James frowned. "Stark found something bigger. Pierce isn't the top, he's just the beginning."
"Bigger?" James echoed, raising an eyebrow. "What could be bigger than the head of Hydra?"
"They're back, James," she murmured, leading him out of Stark's tower. She fixed him with a knowing look and James understood. The Red Room.
"You're planning something." Natalia nodded once. "And you still need Pierce."
"He is just a piece in the puzzle, but I've almost finished it," Natalia told him, sliding her hand up around his arm and leaning her head on his shoulder.
Years ago, James would have worried. They weren't made under the easiest of conditions and even with their trainers dead, there were power-hungry individuals that were eager to have a Widow or a Soldier at their disposal. Now, though, they had a system stacked so skillfully that one hit would bring out an army.
"Give 'em hell, doll," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her head. "They ain't prepared for nothin'."
Natalia buried her smile in his shoulder, pressing a warm kiss there.
"No," she agreed softly, "they aren't."