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I've Got Some Red in My Ledger

there's a china doll in the bullpen

25 Unicorn Street, Thursday Afternoon
neutral in civvies
Before Natasha could even get her key in the lock, there was a half-grown black kitten winding around her ankles. "I'm still not giving you a name," she told it. The cat ignored her, of course. She'd debriefed on the Helicarrier, showered and changed into civilian clothes, even let the doctors take a look at her before she returned from her mission, so she looked perfectly respectable, if exhausted.

When she finally got the door open, she threw her bag onto her bed, ignoring the way it clanked. She'd deal with it later. Then she headed straight for the kitchen. Food. She needed food, and possibly coffee.

...and, fine, to feed the cat. Since it was here and all.

((Due to RL factors and space cadetery on my part, Natasha has not been around for a while. I'm declaring that she's been off-island on SHIELD business, but she's back now! Mostly meant as establishy, but open to anyone at 25 Unicorn or who wants to drop by!))

25 Unicorn Street, Friday Morning
now I'm pissed
"You're not even supposed to be here any more," Natasha informed the small black kitten that kept winding around her feet and trying to trip her up while she fixed her coffee. The kitten just responded by mewing and trying to climb her pants leg. Natasha sighed and bent over to detach the kitten, then held it in front of her face, looked into its eyes, and told it, "No."


She sighed. Fine. She'd buy some cat food. But only because she didn't want it to starve. It definitely wasn't because she was keeping it.

((Open to anyone with reason to be at/drop by 25 Unicorn!))

25 Unicorn Street, Saturday Morning
now I'm pissed
Natasha had gotten up early and made another sweep through the house, familiarizing herself with the layout, before she found and figured out the coffee maker and turned on the radio, tuning it to the local station to try to get a feel for the place.

...it seemed the place was insane.

And, as she listened to the broadcast and sipped her (black, very strong, only slightly sweetened) coffee, she concluded they were way overly fond of their gossip. Until they got to the part about her and Clint, anyway. She didn't drop her coffee cup or anything as dramatic as that, but she did set it down very firmly before yelling up the stairs, "CLINT! CLINT, GET UP! WE MISSED A BUG!"

((For that guy. And anyone who wants to knock at their door, I guess.))

Voicemail: Official Business
on the phone, well that's terrible news
A man's voice announces you've reached Chow Hun's Chinese Takeout and Buffet in Dover, Delaware, and suggests you press 1 to make a takeout order, 2 for reservations, etc.

If you wait until the message is over and press 4 twice, followed by 7 and then *, it will put you through to a voicemail service where you may leave a message.
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Voicemail: Cover Number
on the phone, well that's terrible news
"It's Natasha, you know what to do."