[Shortly after their text conversation, the world explodes. It's not until the monsters crawl back through whichever hole they've come from, and Natasha's slept and showered and slept again that she texts back.]
[There's no reply to his last text. At 19:58, exactly, Natasha wanders up to the location of the dropped pin. She's dressed for sparring in loose and easy clothes, a pair of fingerless gloves tugged onto her hands to mitigate the empathy bond.
There's nothing impatient about her, but there's certainly something wary to the cut of her shoulders.]
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Give me twenty minutes notice and I will be there.
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you still there?
offer still stand?
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Yes and yes.
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Try to ensure you aren't being followed.
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There's nothing impatient about her, but there's certainly something wary to the cut of her shoulders.]