Deck Eleven: Holodeck Two (Volga River, circa 1930s)

[fallaces_sunt]

This is not the smartest idea she's ever had. The library is open; she could be reading, reading just about anything she'd like. She could be in the gym working the edge off her tension. Hell, she could turn this holodeck into a gym that she's familiar with. Test out her ability to actually handle the fake reality with something safe and mundane.

That would be sensible.

Instead, Natasha is sitting on a low pier on the west bank of the Volga River, her slacks rolled up to her knees as she dangles her toes in the water and very carefully monitors her unease.

It's late spring, a vague point in the 1930s. The only people are those working on the occasional cargo ship as they travel up and down the broad expanse of the river, but there are plenty of birds. Location, just south enough from Volgograd that she can't see it.

This might not be the smartest idea she's ever had, but she knows better than to actually go to her hometown. And at least she's got a copy of the complete Sherlock Holmes stories to keep her company.

[OOC: As per normal Trek holodeck set-ups, anyone can walk in as long as they don't mind entering in mid-program.

Open until I say otherwise! :-) ]

Comments

[stark_spangled]

He looks up at her from under furrowed brow. That one doesn't need any further questioning, Steve can put the pieces together just fine. He clenches his jaw, nods softly, and adds it to the list.

"To be honest, a run sounds good," he says, slipping the pencil into the spine of the notebook and putting both away. He's got a lot of frustration to work out of his system. "And it'll be a good opportunity to see what this place can throw at us."

He smiles at her, the kind of diplomatic smirk that doesn't reach his eyes all the way. But there is one more thing that should be said. He glances at his feet, twisting his heel into the dock. "Thank you for trusting me."

[fallaces_sunt]

"You earned it," she says, her voice even but far from simple. What she doesn't say: don't make me regret it.

Then she smiles, and highlights just how serious she'd been only a moment before.

"I know better than to race you...so north or south?" she asks, rising briefly on her toes to stretch her feet. Running sounds like a very, very good idea.

[stark_spangled]

He opens his mouth, but thinks better of it. Wondering whether the only reason he "earned it" is because he walked in on her is just going to launch them into another argument. The fact is he knows now, regardless of whether it was intentional he find out or not.

"North," he says, squinting into the distance. He likes the look of the terrain, and there's something about going north that feels like coming out on top. "Lucky for you I'm not dressed to race, so I think I'll keep a leisurely pace."

He smirks, knowing she gets what "leisurely" means for him. Hey, she still might be able to keep up if she changes her mind.

[fallaces_sunt]

If there is one thing Natasha has no issue about, it's lying. If she didn't trust him, than she wouldn't have said anything at all. Of course, the timing was off from when she'd planned, but she'll roll with it.

"Gracious of you, Rogers," she says, making a face at him. Captain America can be a jerk, who knew.

Not that she objects to jerks; she's one herself.

Which is a good reason for why she starts to take off towards the path.

Keep up, Cap.

[stark_spangled]

That's Captain Jerk to you.

Steve's still stretching when the blur of red locks go screaming past him, each stride she takes echoing in his bones from the wooden dock underfoot.

"Oh, it's going to be like that, is it?" he calls after her, shaking his head. All right, fine. If she wants to make it a contest, then they'll make it a contest. It's a hell of a lot easier than talking, anyway.

Steve jets off, the creak and shudder of old wood rattling like it might come apart, anger sinking into the river beneath like pebbles lost to the deep.