Natasha watches the strange clowns and the stranger dryad lady go back and forth in keeb- in Sperethiel, she mentally corrects herself, she'd gotten in trouble for calling Jenny Whitemane a keeblah during a football match last Wednesday and Jenny had been pretty cool about it- and wondering what the hell she'd gotten into. The flash gear is cool, she has to admit. She loves the ShadowStalkers movies and she and her dad used to watch Dark Futures reruns on friday nights. She'd always had daydreams of being like one of the glamorous characters from those programs, fighting the shadowy good fight, jetting around the world, making huge nuyen and living the life she wants instead of the cushy, safe, boring life her dad wants for her.
But this? This is not null sheen, all systems go. Goodnight is pretty cool and she's been really nice, but even she can tell that the pale, white-haired chit isn't all there sometimes. The guy with the flaming hair and all the wiz gear talks like he got dropped on his head as a baby, the big guy that's built like a brick shithouse seems a little uptight, the one talking to Goodnight seems to have a few screws loose himself for all that he's been pretty friendly, she feels like the french one keeps eyeing her ass, the dog-man seems a little out of it- but at least he gets points for liking Young Frankenstein- and the old guy at the back seems like a bit of a dick, if a well-meaning one. So a crazy slag, a cyberfreak rigger, some huge friggin' guy who clearly does not dig the person whose job is to lead them out of here, a crazy, a playboy, a mutant, and a curmudgeon.
This isn't what Natasha expects of shadowrunners at all, and she's more than a little disappointed.
She tunes back in from her little reverie in time to catch Goodnight's Sperethiel at the one with the sexy laugh, determinedly holding onto the fact that she's straight as an arrow and totally not examining what that throaty chuckle did to her. Instead, she plays the phrase back in her head, and breaks into a delighted grin. At Goodnight, she whispers excitedly, "Hey, I understood that! Siselle, Thelemsa-ha, right?" Goodnight looks shocked for a second, but she nods and Natasha feels a warm flush of pride, her uniquely teenage disappointment in the 'runners vanishing for a second. She'd managed to surprise a shadowrunner! Sure, it was just a little- Jenny had taught her a few Sperethiel phrases by way of cultural payback and this was one of the first- but still, that has to count for something.
"Not bad, 'Tasha." Goodnight says, using the diminuitive form of Natasha's name with effortless casualness, as if they were old friends rather than client and paymaster. "Pretty sure most of the rest of this group couldn't have given that answer half as fast, if at all." She smiles her infectious smile at Natasha and Natasha smiles back, blushing fiercely.
There's a brief flurry of conversation amongst the 'runners and Natasha listens intently, then tries to hide her disappointment that they still want to treat her like a kid. She's sixteen, damn it! She's been shooting with her boyfriend, and taking martial arts classes after school, and she's a varsity star in all of the sports the school allows her to play! She's not helpless and she's not a child! But as Goodnight turns to her, Natasha rolls her eyes and wordlessly hands over the borrowed submachine gun. Truth to tell, she's not comfortable with it. Skeet shooting and a half-dozen times at the range have familiarized her with pistols and shotguns, at least in passing, but an automatic weapon is military or ganger, not doctor's-daughter standard.
Natasha goes to hand over the pistol too, but Goodnight shakes her head. Very quietly, Goodnight says, "Wait. You ever shoot a handgun?" Natasha gives her a level look and Goodnight nods. "Boyfriend?" Now its Natasha's turn to nod and Goodnight smiles. "Good. Keep it. First lesson, 'Tasha; never, ever let someone else dictate what makes you feel safe, not without at least thinking about it. We're hired to make sure you and your family get out alive, but that doesn't make us your parents. Your dad wants you to hand over the gun, you can argue with him. Otherwise, its yours to carry and if you say you can use it, I'll trust you."
Natasha opens her mouth to thank Goodnight or deliver some snappy teenage sarcasm, but Goodnight has already turned away, and Natasha shrugs and puts the pistol back in its holster, closing her eyes and placing her hand on the butt, then taking it away, getting to know where it hangs and how her hand lands on it.
Goodnight catches what Natasha is doing and smiles at the earnest effort of the kid. Chances are that none of them would live to see daylight again, but she has to admire the stones on the teenager. Behind her, Solo's phantoms are cavorting, chanting and talking, and Goodnight is so absorbed in looking at the troupe in front of her that takes a few moments for Goodnight to realize that the phantoms are chanting her name. The chanting brings back old memories, memories of when she was somewhere else, someone else, and Goodnight's eyes go distant as the memory takes hold of her...*
[spoiler=*]There's a flashback here, but its going to go up in a separate post once finished, as its kind of long.[/spoiler]
