Hearth and Home. [open]

Natasha was still having a little difficulty wrapping her mind around the concept that Avengers Mansion was actually her place of residence. Throughout her life, Black Widow had rarely had an address to put her name against, and even then she was there so sparsely that it held no genuine place in her heart. The S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier was Natasha's home more than anything, generally speaking, and she was only ever there between ops, or when a managerial position was required of her time.

It wasn't that Widow was used to living out of a suitcase, it was that she was used to living with nothing at all. Material things weren't very relevant in her line of work, only so much as they pertained to each mission. With her kind of upbringing - though, you could fairly call Natasha Romanov's childhood such a standard word - mementos and fairly heirlooms were nonexistent. Various loft apartments or other residences of her past aside, Natasha felt that there was no place better to be her genuine home than Avengers Mansion.

Though a secret agent at heart, Black Widow acknowledged that being an Avenger was just as much a part of her as what she was raised to do. She straddled the worlds of spy and hero, and though there had been more times than not where those two worlds played tug-of-war on Natasha herself, somehow - miraculously - the woman had finally found a harmonious balance between them.

Perhaps it was that she had finally put one before the other? Black Widow had begun a full-time role on the roster of the Avengers, and though the decision had been difficult, she believed with her heart in it's entirety that it had been the right one. Natasha stood in her bedroom at the Mansion, looking around critically at the appearance of it. There was nothing distinct about the furnishings. Indeed, Widow had made no changes since being given the room.

Nothing had been modified, shifted or conformed to personalize Natasha's space, and she had no inclination to do so. The only differences were imperceptible. The duffle bag that lay at the bottom of the closed wardrobe, the clothes hanging above it, and a sleek black pair of Glock 26's that rested idly on the bedside table. Natasha tucked a loose auburn tress behind her ear and, with an air of satisfaction, strode from her room, shutting the door quietly in her wake.

Black Widow wasn't wearing her iconic black leather outfit, telling those who might see her that she was planning on a day of leisure, unmolested by super-heroic activities. Rather, Natasha wore a light grey sleeveless turtleneck, artfully faded slim-fitting blue jeans and knee-high black heeled boots. Widow trailed through the spacious corridors of Avengers Mansion into the primary foyer, and down the grand staircase therein.

Once on the ground floor, Natasha trailed through the primary hall until she reached the gourmet kitchen, looking as if it had been pulled from a centerfold of a magazine. Black Widow didn't fail to notice that the entire Mansion had been utterly deserted on her trek through it. Not just in appearance, her honed senses told her that no one else was in the spacious homestead. Grateful for a little quiet, Natasha put water on to boil and lent against the counter, steeped in thought.

Friday was supposed to be a good day; the end of the school week was a relief felt in union by every student as they rushed out of the doors. Groups excitedly made plans for the weekend, taking advantage of what the city that never slept had to offer. He felt a twinge of jealousy rise in his chest - if this were a year ago he'd be in exactly the same place, maybe his plans would have been a little...different to a usual adolescent's, but they were still built on the basic premise of spending time with his friends. Scarf slung over his arm, Teddy paced past the bustling crowd of teens as they dispersed into the streets. Brisk winds forced everyone to don their thickest coats but the temperatures weren't low enough to put anyone in a sour mood, the weather forecast predicted snow over the next few days – something Billy's brothers were looking forward to, no doubt.

It was only a mere hour later when Teddy – or rather Hulkling – was balancing a child of the same age in his great green trunk of an arm. It wasn't rare for kids to get lost on their way home, especially if their friends had left without them, and those of an anxious disposition were far more prone to just stay sitting on the steps of their school. He found the girl no older than twelve clutching at the straps of her rucksack as she idly wondered back and forth around the same street corner. Hulkling approached her with a warm smile, despite his intimidating exterior, she responded with glee rather than fear. It wasn't long before she, Amelia, sat atop his shoulders, chirping over his noted appearances on television whilst combing his fringe back so she could pin it down with a hair clip. He didn't mind in the slightest. It was the mixture of curious and concerned glances they received that made him uncomfortable.

The question of whether the Young Avengers would reunite was raised once, Teddy managed to explain the scenario as simply and honestly as he could. Still, it was difficult to clarify why everything happened the way it did. Eventually the heavy subject digressed into something more light-hearted; the two acquaintances shared a mutual interest in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles which induced a poorly sung rendition of its theme. Soon, the two had arrived at their destination. Hulkling moved to pick Amelia up from his shoulders but she insistently enclosed her arms around his head, hugging him in gratitude . He chuckled and returned the gesture, patting her arms in silent thanks for the company, then set her down on the ground. She sprinted towards her apartment building with a beaming grin and sent him a final wave before disappearing behind the door.

It was a few seconds later that Teddy realised how close Avengers Mansion was, the idea of visiting presented itself as his stomach grumbled. Having not eaten since breakfast and carrying no form of payment for a quick snack, he let his gut lead a path to the second home. It was peacefully quiet, silent if not for the usual sounds of the city; the faint beeping of car horns, an occasional curse or yell from a window and the drone of nearby construction sites. Teddy was immune to them, having lived in New York his entire life.

Quickly, he coursed his way to the kitchen, green skin fading into its usual Caucasian white. The effortless transition was made just before he walked through the kitchen door and he immediately recognised his new (and very silent) company. It was impossible not to find Black Widow familiar but all Teddy could do was administer her presence by glancing in her direction and striding towards the fridge in a repressed panic. He hid himself behind the door, picking out whatever his gaze met first, second, third, fourth. Then, once he realised he was cradling a pot of hummus, Ben and Jerry's Phish Food, a raw steak cut and a tub of mayonnaise in his arms he hastily withdrew from the fridge.

“Uhm...I...” Teddy couldn't seem to formulate a single word, his mind not even aiding him in the slightest as it went completely blank. “I...ha-have food.”

The words sunk in and he blushed a furious shade of red, finding no saviour from the sheer embarrassmentt. As if that wasn't enough, he caught his reflection in the window and saw that a clip (adorned with a miniature Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle) was still firmly clasped in his yellow hair.

[[long wall of text - apologies!]]