Chapter 2
Honestly, the singing wouldn't leave. The ghost was just leering at her in the corner, to the point where even Liho was getting confused with Natasha having intense staring matches with what appeared as the wall, to everybody else.
She had to leave, taking her keys & going for a walk.
It was a rainy night. Miserable & lonely.
Honestly, it made her think of Paris but she couldn't figure out why.
Came with that freaking unknown happiness associated with her mystery ghost again so she left it.
Left it in Russian winters, & warm nights.
She stopped. "Clarence's Nightclub" the sign read.
She waited. Clarence was an old friend, who owed her a few favors (that she would never ask to be repaid).
She could hear the sultry jazz singer.
She descended into the back.
Didn't mean she couldn't ask for a few pours of vodka.
She walked toward the back entrance, hopping a gate.
It said nightclub, but the place was ancient. His great-uncle was one of the owners, opened during the roaring 20's as a speakeasy jazz heaven.
She knocked the code.
Also prohibition "fuck you" quarters but who was asking?
"Who is-" the door opened to see a middle aged man. "Natasha Romanoff. What a nice surprise."
"Hey Clarence. How've you been?"
"Not bad." He peeked out the door. "Should I..."
"No, no. Just have a night off."
He smiled. "You deserve it. Come in."
"Thanks Clarence." Nat replied.
The bar was quiet for a Friday, just a few patrons, & an awfully sullen looking figure at the bar.
She was about to take another look before the man with many favors gave her a hug. "Natasha, so good to see you."
She returned it. "You too Oli. How's the bar?"
"Still kicking. You?"
She nodded her head. "All well for now."
The jazz singer of the night began to come on, taking a seat as light applause started. "Pull up a table, Margaret's a new chord here. Could sing the alphabet backwards and I'd still have her."
Nat sat. "Thanks Oli. How much is a -"
He shook his head. "Consider it Russia's independence.", winking.
"Might be a bad comparison." She smirked slyly.
"People can dream." He said, patting her jokingly.
She settled herself, watching as Margaret started.
She hadn't had a night to herself in a long time. Some of the girls, including Bobbi and Sharon had tried, but she gave the same answer.
So to have this, a veil of just enough smoke from the piano, it was nice.
"Why do I do just as you say? Why do I sigh? Why don't I try to forget?"
......She frowned slightly.
Another minor headache came on as a memory came. No notebook.
Someone dipping her. Her saying that her "ghost" actually could dance.
Whether it was intuition or the damn memory, something was whispering to look again at the depressed figure at the bar-
"Bottle of Russian water," Nat was shaken out of the thought as Clarence brought her the drinks. "Courtesy of Russian Indepence Day." He smirked. "I know, bad joke."
Natasha tried to smile back, still lost in some unknown timeframe.
"Call me if you need anything else, or a nice guy." He winked kindly again before heading back to the back door.
"...For nobody else gave me thrill..."
Natasha looked at the floor for a moment.
......That.... That definitely felt real.
She suddenly got up, heading to the bar.
She walked up, turning around the figure.
"Doo I know yer, lady?!"
".....Sorry." Natasha apologized, only out of being polite as he smelled like a bad Brooklyn night.
"Hey Oli, guy over there gave me $20 tip. Nice guy, but couldn't get drunk. Looked kinda depressed about it." She overheard the bartender say.
"Huh. Lucky guy." Oli replied.
Nat stood there for a moment. A thought crossed her mind, frighteningly.
Maybe she confused the familiarity. That annoying itch was intuition, yelling at her that that man was...
No. She frowned inwardly as she went back to her table.
Couldn't be.
"Wonderful you.... Had to be you..."
Even more frighteningly, was the other possibility.
That the itch was familiarity, the whisper natural intuition & the pang that was unexpectedly growing in her heart (?)....was regret.
Applause started as the song finished, & the memory rose from the snow & rain.
If it was....The guy was a lucky idiot.