[center][img] https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/24/57/1d/24571d0c5bb53d93d1235042604b4076.jpg [/img] [b]The Hub, 5th September 2016[/b] [hr] [b]Interaction[/b]: Stephanie Rogers [@DrewVonAwesome][/center] Sweeping a scrutinizing glance over the Captain as the taller woman spoke, Natasha could sympathise. Clad in gym wear and towel around her neck, her posture and actions were clear as crisp as usual, but the supersoldier's tone and minute facial expression exuded weariness to those who knew where to look. It was apparently becoming the norm for missions meant to be a cakewalk - compared to some of the things the Avengers could get tangled up in - to go south. Maintaining the same distance even as Rogers stopped to face her fully, Natasha adopted a more relaxed stance, folding her arms and shifting her weight slightly to one foot. By the seriousness in the Captain's voice, the contemplative but distant gleam in her gaze...this abrupt change in topic was obviously not going to lead to a light-hearted conversation between them. But then, since when did people like them have the luxury of exchanging words of nonsense? Letting the second of silence stretch as Rogers stopped talking, Natasha broke the gaze to survey their surroundings with her peripheral vision. The corridor was wide and they were positioned at the far left up against the wall and the agent knew better than to step within the Black Widow's space. In such a public place, they had as much privacy as possible. Even so, Natasha tilted her head so her long hair fell like a curtain, covering the right side of her face and disabling anyone not directly before her the chance to read her lips. "You are right. I am the last person you should ask about sparing a target." She replied softly, locking her gaze on the Captain's. "The closest I came to sparing someone who could kill me was Clint. Hawkeye, as you know him. But even then I still attacked him." Coulson didn't count as they had never gone at each other with the intention to kill. "From what little experience I have on this subject, I would say you pulled you punches because your mind subconsciously registered the target as a friend, most possibily a very close friend from your past. That's my opinion." Family member was impossible, seeing as Rogers was the only child, and any other family she had like her mother were long dead. Her closest friend was Sergeant Barnes, who fell to his death before the war ended, so that option was also out. This individual Rogers faced being a member of the Howling Commandoes was possible if a ninety-year old could still move like a man at the peak of his youth. Then there is the option of said target being a mutant. "Besides the metal arm and scar, do you remember anything else about him? Anything unique? Any distinguishing features? We might be able to narrow down the list of suspects, especailly since a cybernatc arm with a red star is rather rare in itself." And a red star would mean Soviet or a country ran by communists. Again, that was a short list. Nevertheless, something about the arm and mark niggled at her memories. Not the ones after joining S.H.I.E.L.D, but before, and that alone made her leery. Everything that had anything to do with the Red Room and Department X spelled trouble. "Come on, Captain. Let's walk while you think it through." Natasha added, inclining her head towards the end of the hallway. "There might be an urgent assignment awaiting."