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Natasha takes to the rooftops, sometimes, when she's bored or wants to stretch her legs. Between jobs there's not much to do -- she doesn't have a family to go back to, like Clint. She doesn't have a personal mission, like Steve. There's work, and there's training, and there's trying to avoid thinking about all of the things that have gone to shit in her life, because if there's one thing Natasha Romanoff is, it's a realist. If it's broken beyond repair, there's no point trying to fix it.
Besides, she likes New York. She likes the constant thrum of the city, cars honking and people shouting at all hours of the day and night, the sticky hot heat of summer and the frigid chill of winter. It doesn't feel like home. If it did, she wouldn't like it so much.
The buildings are close together in midtown, and similar sizes once you get away from the skyscrapers and into the more residential areas. It's easy enough to travel from one roof to another. She takes a little bit of pleasure in dropping down from fire escapes behind muggers and taking them out. It's not her usual gig, but it's more fun than hitting a punching bag or studying up on case files.
Sometimes she runs across the local vigilante -- Daredevil, they're calling him -- when she's out and about. If she sees him, she usually gives him a wide berth and lets him take care of his own business. The last thing she wants is to have to have a serious fight when she's really just looking for some fun. If he ever notices her, he doesn't let on.
It's on one of those hot summer nights, with the air so humid and still it feels like it's condensing on her skin, that she hears jeering in an alleyway and catches the thick scent of an omega in heat.
When she peers over the edge of the building, she sees that Daredevil's already on the job. There are about ten big guys down there with him, organized crime by the look of them, and Daredevil standing in the back of the alley facing them down. Something's wrong about this tableau though, and it takes her a second to pinpoint the problem -- there's no victim.
"We been waiting for a chance to take him down," one of the guys says. "Since he was stupid enough to come out like this, looks like we got our chance."
Another grabs at his crotch and adds, "Oh, he's going down alright."
"This fucker's scared off all our buyers. You all can fuck him, but I'm gonna kill him first," a third man adds.
"Really?" Daredevil asks, smirk visible in the open space of his mask. "Necrophilia? Are we really going there?"
Natasha draws her brows together. She takes a deep breath through her nose, and yeah, that's definitely heat pheromones, and not just the initial warning signs either. Full-blown hormone-crazed heat, and it's coming from Daredevil. Never in her life has she seen an omega so far gone in heat able to still stand up, much less make snarky comments. She creeps closer to the edge for a better look, ready to step in and help Daredevil out of this situation if she has to.
He's barely showing any signs of heat, just breathing a little fast, suit stretching tight over his crotch. The criminals, though, are another matter. They're clearly getting triggered by Daredevil's pheromones, staring at him hungrily, and then one of them breaks formation and rushes him.
Before tonight, Natasha would have said a fight of ten alphas against one omega in heat was impossible odds, but Daredevil proves her wrong. He fights nearly as well as he does the rest of the time. She's seen news footage of him, and she has a great eye for detail, so she can see the little slipups he has. A little distractable, a little messy, but he takes down all ten of them in just a few minutes. Actually, he's using his pheromones to his advantage, which is a brilliant move; the alphas are so disoriented by it that they don't coordinate enough to all attack at once, but instead go at him one or two at a time.
When it's over, and the criminals are all out cold, Daredevil leans back against the wall of the alley and turns his head up to where Natasha is still hidden, watching. He's breathing hard, holding his hands away from his body as if he's consciously trying not to touch himself anywhere. "If you're planning on fighting me, why not just come down here and get it over with?" he asks.
She debates with herself for a few seconds. On the one hand, she could still leave. She could turn around right now and head home and hope he doesn't try to follow her. On the other hand--
Natasha swings down over the fire escape. From this close, his pheromones are overpowering, and she swallows against the sudden rush of arousal. "I'm not here to fight you."
"Here to fuck me, then?" he asks flatly.
"No. I was--" She laughs, at herself, at the situation. "I thought you might need some help. Apparently not. I'd love to know how you do that."
"Do what?" He's keeping his distance from her, but his posture is defensive, wary.
"This. You're in the worst part of heat, and you can still fight. Most people can't even put two words together."
He grins, and she'd be irritated with his cockiness if it wasn't sending a spike of heat directly to her crotch. "Meditation. Good for the mind and body. I've had a lot of years to work on ignoring sensory input."
"Yeah?" she asks, a little breathless. "Maybe you can show me some tricks."
"What's wrong, getting a little bit of an overload?" he asks, taking a few steps toward her. "You know, people say omegas should stay locked away during heat, but don't you think maybe it's really you alphas who should be locked up?" He's close enough to her now that she can feel his body heat, and Natasha is good at ignoring things like this, she's had years of training, but really her training was all about how to take the right pills at the right time to block her pheromone receptors. "I'm just out here minding my own business. You all," he gestures around the alley, "can't seem to stay away from me."
She finds herself leaning towards him, head tilting up, reaching for those too-red lips, and--
And he's gone, up the fire escape and over the rooftops, leaving Natasha standing in an alley with ten unconscious criminals.
She takes a few deep breaths to clear the pheromones from her system, then shrugs and heads back to the tower. Meditation. Huh.