#because i am at my core winterwidow trash

[warrior-of-storms]

“Natalie Grayson,” Natasha said, her voice a little higher, a little airier than usual. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne.” “Please, call me Bruce, Ms. Grayson,” Wayne said, offering his hand. Natasha accepted the handshake with a smile. His eyes reminded her of James’ - blue, of course, but that was superficial. The resemblance was in the guarded look, the wall hidden behind the carefree facade he was currently putting on. In the way that she got the feeling she wasn’t the only one seeing things that were supposed to stay hidden. If Natasha weren’t as well trained as she was, her expression might have betrayed her. It wasn’t often that she got the feeling that people could read her that well, and the feeling certainly never came from billionaires dressed in suits that could pay her rent for three months and had only ever been described to her as generous and a bit ditzy. 

So I'm working on a longer fic for tangled threads (gasp, something that's not a one-shot?? impossible) and felt like drawing the scene where Natasha meets Bruce for the first time.