29This is a series of oneshots, in no particular order, regarding my fanfic "Thawing the Widow." If you haven't read that, I'd start with it before you read this. (But hey, I can't tell you what to do.)
"Ohgodohgodohgodohgod."
Cat's mouth seemed to move on its own, a jumble of words leaving her lips in an unintelligent stream. She heard her own voice as if it was coming from someone else.
She couldn't move. She was standing on her bed, shoulder blades pressed completely against the wall, armed with only a throw pillow, sheer panic locking her limbs in place. Every muscle in her body was tensed, and she could feel the intensity of her pulse in her neck.
She inched to her left— slowly, as if any sudden movement could alert the creature of her presence— towards the knife drawer in her nightstand, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the dark, furry spot at the corner of her room.
She knelt down on the bed and reached down to open the knife drawer with painful slowness. Felt around until her fingers met a cool, metal blade. She froze when one of the creature's legs twitched, holding her breath, then raised the knife to eye level. Shut one eye. Aimed.
"Oh my god," she mumbled, feeling insane. "Oh my fucking god. Fuck my life."
The knife thudded into the wall, a good foot away from where the spider sat— or hung— it was too dark to tell. In a flash of movement too quick for Cat's eyes to track, the dark spot was moving across the wall in a sccurrying of furry legs.
Wolf spiders, Cat's brain, with its impeccable timing, decided to recall from Encyclopedia Britannica at that very moment. Named for the wolflike habit of chasing and pouncing on prey… Dark brown… The hairy body is long and broad, with stout, long legs… Noted for their running speed… The jaws are prominent and strong…
"Not now, brain," Cat hissed.
Caution forgotten, she swiped another knife from the drawer and hurled it at the wall. To hell with Nat's fancy paint job. The knife landed half a foot away from the moving dot. Cat suddenly wished she'd paid more attention in Nat's knife throwing lessons.
The moving dot disappeared into the darkness. For a moment, Cat panicked. Where is it where is it where is it— Then her frantic gaze finally latched onto the grayish brown, furry spot again, and she felt a combination of anxiety and relief.
The eggs are contained in a gray silk sac attached to the female's spinnerets, or silk-producing organs, Cat's brain continued helpfully, so that she appears to be dragging a large ball. After hatching, the young spiders ride on the mother's back for several days.
Oh God. Oh God. What if the eggs were on the mother's back at this very moment? Cat's mind flew to a Youtube video she once watched of a man stepping on a spider, followed by hundreds of little baby spiders racing out from the man's foot.
She set the third knife she'd grabbed down. There was no way she was risking killing one spider for another hundred to leap out.
Options, she thought frantically. What were her options? Running out of the room would lead Cat to lose the spider's location, and what if it moved into her bed? Then she'd have to spend the rest of the month living in paranoia-driven fear.
Cat strained to see the spider calmly spinning a web in the corner. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her eyes to find the spider in the darkness. All the squinting was giving her a headache.
She sucked in a breath. She had no pride left to save.
"NAAAAAAT!"
Absolute silence.
Cat funneled some of her fear into annoyance. Some world-class spy. Aren't spies supposed to be light sleepers?
"NAAAAAAAAAAT!" Cat screamed, even louder, banging on the wall for good measure. The neighbors were not going to be happy.
Cat was opening her mouth to shout again when there was a muffled thud from her left. She released a relieved breath, glad that she wouldn't have to sacrifice any more of her pride today. The patter of quick, light footsteps in the hallway followed. Normally they would be silent, but then again, normally Cat didn't wake her up before dawn by screeching like a dying banshee from the next room over.
The door swung open so hard that it slammed against the adjacent wall with a crack and would have bounced back to hit Nat in the face had she not sprang into the room immediately, narrowed eyes darting back and forth for the source of danger.
"Oh thank God," Cat said in one breath.
Nat lowered her gun. Her hair was mussed up and she was looking slightly rattled. "I thought you were dying! Why are you screaming like you're being murdered?" She studied the two knives protruding from the wall with bemusement. "Did you do that?"
Cat jabbed a finger towards the corner. "Kill it kill it kill it kill it—"
"Kill what?" Nat dropped the gun completely, looking more annoyed now that there weren't any child-murdering intruders to raise immeadiate concern. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"The spider!"
"The spider?" Natasha repeated.
"Can you get rid of it?" Cat's voice was dangerously close to a plead.
"I didn't know you were scared of spiders."
Asshole. She was really enjoying this, wasn't she? Cat glowered. "Nat!"
"Asking the Black Widow to kill a spider for you? It's a bit on the nose, don't you—"
"Natasha fucking Romanoff!" Cat screeched in a moment of hysteria. "Get this fucking spider out of my room before I fucking kill you!"
Expression hardening, Natasha stared at her for a long, awful moment, letting the words sink in. Cat, shocked at her own audacity, realized that she may have gone too far. Well, this is where I die.
"You wanna try that again?" Natasha asked slowly.
Realizing the second chance she'd been given might have a time limit, Cat hastened to fix her tone. "I'm sorry. Nat— Natasha, please, if you have any kindness left in your cold, desolate heart, get this spider out of my room."
"That's better." Natasha started moving towards the spider, her hand braced on her gun.
"Wait!" Cat burst out immediately. "Don't kill it!"
"You just told me to—"
"Wolf spiders carry their babies on their backs! It only takes a week for them to hatch so if you squish it the babies will come out and explode everywhere—"
"Okay, relax," Nat said, her slow drawl a steep contrast from Cat's high, frantic pitch. "I wasn't planning on putting holes in my drywall, anyway." Instead of using her gun, she grabbed an empty glass and a sheet of paper from Cat's desk.
Cat watched, still pressed against the wall, hardly daring to breathe as Nat slid a chair underneath the corner. She was up on the chair so swiftly and silently the spider had no time to react as she trapped it in the cup and slid the paper underneath.
Natasha returned to the ground, holding the trapped spider for Cat to see. Her raised eyebrows told Cat some part of her found this deeply amusing. "Want to say a few words before we return him to where he came from?"
"No! Get it away."
Nat shrugged. "If you insist." With both hands occupied, she used her foot to lift Cat's window. She lifted the glass from the paper, letting the wolf spider crawl out onto the balcony. She shut the window and turned back to Cat. "You can get down from there now."
Cat scrambled off the bed. "Are you sure it's gone?"
"You're gonna ask me that after you literally just watched me shake it out the window?"
Cat sagged in relief, letting out a long, shaky sigh. She held a hand to her beating-too-fast heart. "That was awful."
Natasha yanked out the two knives still stuck in the wall. "I'm confiscating these." She pulled open Cat's knife drawer and took out the third. "And this. Where are the others?"
Cat sat cross-legged on her bed, letting the adrenaline drain out of her. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Why is it, that every time someone says that, they always know exactly what you're talking about?" Natasha shoved Cat aside, reaching into her pillowcase to draw out a small but sharp blade. She held it at eye level. "Really? You've been sleeping with this?"
Cat made a swipe for the blade, but Natasha held it just out of reach. "What if someone breaks in? How will I defend myself?"
"By not giving them a chance to use your weapons against you. You're not quite at the level to start stabbing grown men when they sneak in through the window."
"Or women," Cat said. "Burglars can be women, too. Or transgender."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "I'm glad we're learning to be so gender-inclusive." She studied the small knife. "You didn't steal this from me. Where did you get it?"
"Convenience store down the street," Cat said proudly. Which was technically true. She'd found it on the floor underneath the candy selection and pocketed it before anyone saw.
"I highly doubt convenience stores sell small knives to kids."
"Well, this one did. And stop calling me a kid."
"What are you, then?" Nat didn't give her a chance to reply. "Stop. Stealing. My knives." She emphasized each word with a jab of Cat's confiscated ones. "Or else I'll stab you with one."
The threat was so empty, it could've been the inside of Cat's bank account. Cat faked a shudder. "Oooh, I'm so scared."
"Don't test me."
"I won't lie," Cat continued, knowing if she'd been anyone else it would have been a death wish, "I expected a little more from the Black Widow. Like, 'I'll stab you?' Sure, Nat, then how will you cope with the absence of my wit and intelligence?"
"Your caffeine addiction and inflated sense of importance, more like."
"That too."
"You're acting a little cocky for someone who was screaming her head off about a little spider two minutes ago."
Cat flushed. "It wasn't little! It was the size of a quarter!"
"My point still stands. I'm going to sleep, and the next time you wake me, someone better be dying for real." With that, Natasha spun around and closed the door.
Cat waited five seconds after she was gone to yell, "Nat!" Partly because she had something to say, partly just to annoy her.
A muffled, "What?"
"Thanks for killing the spider."
No response.
Cat smiled and went to bed.
Please leave a review if you liked/prefer this style of writing over my other fic! This one allows me more freedom, meaning I don't have to stick to a plotline (which is good because I suck at planning).
I also take suggestions and requests.