2014-02-23 - The Director's Office

Fury was sitting at his desk at the directors office. He was chewing over a cigar as he read the daily reports. The occasional growl escaping his lips as cigar smoke escaped his cigar.

A knock at the door, and Natasha steps in. She's technically an evening earlier than she should be, since she's technically not back on active duty until the next day, but this was a conversation she knew she needed to get out of the way soon.

"Director." The woman does not move any further into the office, or to sit, until she's invited to do so. Despite that she is in civilian clothing, she still holds herself stiffly, formally. "If you have a few moments."

Nick Fury looks up and about growls something. Then figures he can't send Widow scurrying for the hills. "I'd ask how you got past my secretary but I figure you'd just tell me I'm suppose to call her Administrative Agent level 3 Jenkins." He nods to the chair in front of him. Then gets up and go to the wet bar and pours himself a tumbler of bourbon, "You want one?"

"No, thank you, Director." Natasha takes a seat, looking expressionless. She was, frankly, surprised Fury hadn't busted her down in rank, given the egregious errors in information sharing that had led to the clusterfutz that was the previous week's op-- and Steve's death.

She didn't know where to begin. There were several things, and none of them were pretty. "How have things been this week?"

Nick Fury takes a drink of his bourbon stares at Natasha for a moment with making a slight growl. The one where he's considering how many different ways he could kill her and which one would bring him the most pleasure. He returns to his desk. I have half of my best special officers on medical or bereavement leave. I have a deputy director on suspension for lying her ass off to me. I would have shipped her ass off to Siberia. But she'd probably would enjoy it. I also lost one of my oldest friends in the world. Have a freaking psycho Russian secret agent that suppose to be a boogey man in Stark's custody." He's beginning to yell now, "Natalia, how about you tell me how my week's been? Lest Doom doesn't have the nuts and bolts to invade."

Natasha takes the yelling surprisingly well. Or maybe unsurprisingly well. She doesn't flinch, at least. "The details I left out of the facility report were need-to-know," she says simply. She doesn't even bother explaining her omission of information regarding the Winter Soldier. She doesn't want to even think about that rabbit hole.

She gives him a level look. Good soldier Natasha will at least look her commander in the face when she admits her fault. "I take full responsibility for the losses. It was my op, and it was blown. Whatever punishment you feel is necessary, I will endure."

She's not going to say anything about the other news, not yet. To her, it's a separate issue. Besides, Fury's disappointment with her is enough as it is right now, without that addition. Nick Fury takes a drink of the bourbon, "And when did you become the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.? Did I miss the memo? I decide what you need to know not the other way around. Is Stark having any luck with Barnes or do I need to prepare for another cluster fuck?"

"With all respect, Director--" Natasha shakes her head slightly. "Not about that. There are things that /no one/ should have access to. And that included you. Sir."

She regards him for a long moment. "I spoke with Barnes today. The procedure was successful. He and Stark are going after the Red Guardian and the remaining serum." Her gaze levels further, darkens. "I will do my best to convince them /not/ to, but I'm afraid I may not be successful."

Nick Fury grunts, "Natasha, It becomes my problem when I nearly loose two of my top agents. Drew got a hell of a splinter in her lung and then you. If Stark hadn't been useful for once of his annoying ass life. Do you know what that would have cost me in training alone?"

Natasha bites her tongue. Drew went off-script. Granted, Natasha would have been dead most likely for sure, facing Strucker and that many HYDRA goons on her own while trying to defend the portal, but that was beyond the point. "Understood, Director," is all she replies.

Nick Fury nods, "As for Stark and Barnes. I'll speak to them." He looks at her for a moment, "So, you going to tell me why you showed up? You didn't come to ask me about my god damn week." He says taking a drink of his Bourbon.

Natasha doesn't respond for a moment. Or two. Then, she says calmly, "I will need to be taken off active fieldwork for some time."

Nick Fury nods, "I figured as much." He reaches into his desk drop an envelope in front of her. "Around 9 months. You’re glowing and fat Natasha. So congrats. Who's the father? If it's Barton, I'm transferring him to SWORD."

"Seven and a half to eight months, now," Natasha replies dryly. "And if it were Barton, things would be less... complicated." She glances down-- she had been swelling a bit, but she didn't think anyone had noticed.

Glancing back up at the Director, she takes the envelope, opening it carefully. "Stark." she answers.

Nick Fury frowns and pushes the envelope, "FMLA leave package from HR. Also with a reminder of the daycare options of our benefits package. we also have a lounge on the third floor that you can go to spend time with you and your child. HR told me to tell you this." He then leans up and reaches around and Gibbs headsmacks her. "Damn it. Least maybe this Stark will sell me weapons when he or she's old enough." He drops back in the chair.

Natasha eyes the paperwork like it is a snake that might bite her. "I know," she comments wryly, "that keeping a secret on a helicarrier filled with spies, paranoid soldiers, and professional liars is like holding a gallon of water in a sieve, but I did not expect anyone to know yet." She sighs.

"I have no intention of taking any more leave than I absolutely have to. The only reason I'm unable to do field work is that Stark is being rather..." she pauses. "Unreasonable, regarding this." She shrugs.

Fury snorts, "HR got opinions in the matter too. They're on Stark's side." He says moving to stand up and fix himself another drink. "Bleeding heart liberals." He takes a drink. "How do you feel about all this? I mean honest to Fucking good truth, level with me Natalia. Fuck SHIELD, Avengers, Stark, and even me. What do you want out of this?"

Nick Fury says, “Oh and Fuck HR too. Especially HR. They won't let me tase people randomly that piss me off."

Natasha looks at him with a blank stare. "I don't understand the question, Director."

Nick Fury looks at Natasha, "Cut the robot shit. I know you got opinions and shit. You keep talking about Stark and you keep talking about the company. What do you feel about this? Do you want this kid?"

"I haven't given it much thought-- this isn't exactly something I planned on." Natasha settles back in her chair. "Stark is emotionally invested in this child. Moreso than anything else. There are potentials here-- he or she, I believe, will make an excellent field operative, with the parentage and access to training resources."

She muses. "The potential positive outcomes outweigh the negatives of being out of the field for a few months." Of course she would consider it that way. "As to how I feel?" She regards the man with an icy stare.

"Nothing in my life is the same as it was even a year ago. It is not ideal, but I will survive. That is all that is important."

Nick Fury nods, "Yeah. You know I got a cookie snatcher. Hell I say that like he's a toddler. He's grown didn't know it. Long fucking story, ain't going to bore you with the details. I didn't raise him." He looks at Natasha, "I figure you're going to be raising the Tiny Stark. So there will be things like day care, sick days, and diapers and bull shit like that. It ain't a matter of surviving. It's a matter of what the hell do you want. It'll be a pain in my ass. But this is going to affect you and this kid." He hmms, "Interesting you chose operative over ballerina. I know if I got a choice no shit factory of mine would go into this career." Natasha lifts an eyebrow. "I may have been a ballerina, but you realize that was my cover? This is all I know. I can't imagine having another life. And what else can I teach a child?" She shrugs. "Stark wants the child. He was even willing to leave the Avengers and everything behind if I gave it to him." Her expression darkens. "I am not entirely sure the man is sane enough to care for himself, much less something like that. So we will see."

Nick Fury gives Natasha a look that says 'No Shit Sherlock.' It's the look usually reserved for particularly dumb dogs, Stark, and if Fury has to interact with a teenage boy. "Yeah but it's known you enjoyed it." He reaches into a desk and sets another envelope out and tosses it to her. "Early baby shower gift. Get the paper work filled out. And get the second envelope's content keyed to you. Might make you a bit more useful to the company. Oh while your off gestating, any recommendations on your stand in?" Natasha would find the second enelope would find the controls to remote operate a LMD.

Natasha opens the second envelope, and a look of satisfaction crosses her face. "I will do so at the earliest opportunity," she says with a nod. "As for my stand-in..." she considers. "Move me down to Regional Director-- Hill's position. Call it a temporary demotion, if you want, for the Siberia operation. Hill is a capable woman and can better serve as interim Deputy Director while I'm... otherwise indisposed. The Regional position will keep me in the New York area, able to keep Stark in line, I hope, and keep tabs on other things as well." It's her honest assessment of the best options at hand.

Fury nods, "Break the damn thing you bought it. You'll find, you won't like it. It doesn't work like you want it. But you'll figure it out. Don't use on Stark. He'll figure out somehow." He nods, " You'll find your new relaxed dress code in there. I'll take it under advisement. There's nothing your not leaving out that I don't need to know is there?" Yup Fury's still pissed.

Natasha regards Fury for a moment, weighing whether or not to share the information she had learned today.

No. Not yet. She had to verify it herself. "Nothing as of now, Director," she responds coolly.