Chapter Text
There are some girls you go looking for, asking bartenders questions -looking for the other half of your drunken memories, when all you know is that you spent the night with a pretty girl in a floral dress, a long story about a nickname, and cherry lipgloss. And damn, does Natasha wish she remembered more...She could feel it, that this girl was something special. Something magical. She needed to find her.
Natasha had taken to stalking facebook, looking through every photo she'd been tagged in from the party in hopes of finding some link to the girl. A name, a location, hell, even a blurry photo of the back of her head just so Natasha knew she was real and not something tequila had conjured up for her after a night of blacking out with Stark and his brood. She squinted, thinking there was something in the back of a photo of Tony and Bruce, but all she sees is herself talking to Clint. Damn it. She doesn't even know this girl's hair color yet! Nat rubbed her eyes before snapping her laptop shut, only to find Clint staring at her from his side of the living room, one eyebrow quirked as he fed chips to his dog (Lucky). Natasha purses her lips, "What?"
"You have a face,' He said, tossing another chip to Lucky. The dog just lets the chip hit his nose before he snuffles it out of the shag carpet. Clint tilts his head, "The kind of face you get when you're trying to track something down...You still looking for that girl from the other night?"
Natasha could try to deny it (she was an excellent liar) but she doubted that Clint would believe that no matter how convincing she was. His imagination would run wild with even the slightest slip of information. He had the same kind of craving for knowledge that she did; he was just better at playing dumb.
"No," She huffs out, before sighing and nodding, "I mean, yeah. I haven't found anything! It's like she just kissed me and dropped off the face of the Earth." It was becoming a great source of frustration for Natasha. She usually dug these kinds of things up in no time -but this was turning out to be the kind of thing she'd need to cash in favours for. And she hated that. Finding one girl shouldn't be so hard, especially in the age of technology. Someone had to have gotten a good photo of them -hell, someone had probably taken a video. Posted it on Tumblr with the title 'hot redheads make out' or some shit. The world was full of creeps like that.
Clint just shook his head, looking almost disappointed in her, "Oh come on, Nat. You know that you're not going to turn up anything by sitting on a couch. You gotta go out there! Talk to some people! Really scare someone to get what you want. You're good at that."
Natasha knew he didn't mean it as a compliment, but she took it as one. Her ability to terrify the truth out of anyone was really a gift, a skill that she'd learned while growing up in foster care. You had to know what you wanted and you had to have a way to get it to get anywhere in this world. And just because Clint preferred his gift of gab, didn't mean that her method was any less viable.
"Fine, I'll go talk to some people," She sighed, shoving her laptop to the side as she stood, "Can you and Lucky hold down the fort while I'm gone?" Honestly, she trusted that dog to keep the place clean more than she trusted Clint with the task. Although they both ate food off the floor, Lucky left less crumbs.
Clint nods, tossing another chip to his dog. It hit his ear that time, and Lucky chuffed. Natasha took that as his way of saying 'yes'.
"Good," Natasha nods curtly, and grabs her jacket before sweeping out of the apartment.
Natasha was beginning to think that she'd lost her touch. Two hours out sweeping the university's campus, and so far there had been no sign of this girl. Maybe she went to another school....ugh. That would be just Natasha's luck. She rubbed her face, her permanent scowl starting to hurt, and decided there was only one place left to go; the source of all this madness. Tony Stark.
It was one of his infamous parties that she'd met this girl at, so he had to have some kind of information on who she was. A name, an address even. Maybe she was one of his exes, if Natasha was lucky, and she'd get a full background check as well.
Natasha made her way of campus, heading towards Tony’s apartment complex. He was in his last year of undergrad, at barely 20, but his family was loaded. Old money turned new during World War 2 when his dad manufactured weapons. Tony was apparently carrying on the tradition by taking his father’s money to fund his own inventions, mostly AI’s and clean energy. The kid was doing good, although most people refused to let him forget his family’s reputation in the war. Natasha wondered what they’d think of her if they knew half the shit she’d done to get out of foster care….
She looked up at the tower, her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket as she took a deep breath. Asking for help was never her strong suit; it made her feel...weak. Out of control. This would have to be a favor, and she’d repay Tony later. It made it more palatable this way. Natasha moved into the tower and went straight to the man at the secretary desk.
“Can you buzz the penthouse and tell whoever answers that Natasha needs to speak with Stark?” She said, her voice smooth and a little intimidating. The man doesn’t seemed phased by it at all as he presses the button to notify the penthouse, He was used to entitlement coming through here. Natasha nodded curtly to thank him before she moved towards the elevator.