Work Text:
"Transferring now." Natasha eyed the screen of her computer while she sipped her coffee. "What am I looking at here?"
"H.O.U.N.D." Sherlock's voice came through the computer's speakers. "I need everything you can find on the project as soon as possible."
Natasha set her mug down and spoke while she typed. "Is this that glowing bunny case you swore you wouldn't take? I thought that one didn't rate above a three."
"It does now," he snapped. "Have you found anything? It's time sensitive."
"Keep snapping at me like that and you'll find something all right," she quipped. "Here's something. Old S.H.I.E.L.D. intel. Hold for transfer."
"You're seven hours away, assuming you take the Quinjet now. I'll risk it." He sounded distracted. "Military project?"
"Apparently. How did you get your hands on this?"
"I have a very specific skill set," he deadpanned.
"And Mycroft's security clearance?"
"That too." He sounded distracted again. "Hold on."
Natasha folded her arms atop the table and stared at her computer screen for all of two seconds. "You don't think I'd take the Quinjet?"
"Not right now."
Her lips twitched at the corners. "I think you're underestimating my wrath."
"So prove me wrong. Have to go now." There was a bit of shuffling on the other end of the line, like he'd taken his phone off speaker and jammed it between his ear and shoulder. "I should be done by tonight."
Natasha stole a peek at her watch. If she had Stark's people file a flight plan now, she'd make it over just after midnight. "Is that an invitation?"
He switched to Russian. "Maybe. A proper 'thank you' for your assistance is in order, don't you think?"
Natasha smiled. "Give me a few hours."