[ A little way down the railway, the tracks run parallel to a stretch of old road. Parked, there, in a non-descript car (without markings: rental, then) is one familiar redhead.
She's leaning on the hood of the car, sunglasses perched on her nose. When he comes a little closer, Natasha smiles, her mouth quirking into what might be a greeting (but with her, it's hard to tell where something stops and begins). ]
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She's leaning on the hood of the car, sunglasses perched on her nose. When he comes a little closer, Natasha smiles, her mouth quirking into what might be a greeting (but with her, it's hard to tell where something stops and begins). ]
Need a lift?