What Happened In Budapest *unedited*

Chapter 3: Arrival

To keep down suspicions, Fury dropped us off at the American airport for a eleven and a half hour (plus) flight to Budapest, Hungary. And I was trapped on a tiny flying school bus for almost half a day.

It was pure torture.

I sat fidgeting next to Barton for the first hour. He was reading some book and was doing his best to ignore me being annoying, but I felt sick just sitting there with absolutely nothing to do. I could have read, but the books I had in my bag didn't seem interesting and the sundress was swishing around my ankles uncomfortably and it was driving me nuts.

"I have to use the bathroom." I said, climbing out of my aisle seat near the back of the plane. Barton just nodded.

Thanks the Asgarians (or not, seeing how some of them were real pieces of work) that there was no one in line or I would have found some way to jump off the plane, over the Atlantic or not.

I locked myself in the shoebox of a bathroom (some bathroom) and blinked when the lights came on. I stared at my face in the mirror (I'd seen battle axes with bigger blades) and took deep breaths.

Enclosed spaces were not for me.

It took me a while, but I calmed down by washing my face and sitting huddled on the toilet. I wished I had my guns (or something) and my suit but apparently weapons were against the law on these stupid bus things and we could get arrested and it would only bring publicity and etc.

I wasn't very happy with this.

I had to settle with having our weapons at the house (I shuddered thinking about this) and that this was only for about- oh... half a day.

It took me a minute or two to get myself up and back into my seat, and when I got back Barton he had put his book down and was looking worried.

"Where were you?" He asked. I almost made a face. Why would he be worried about me and/or care where I had been?

Oh wait- never mind.

"Bathroom," I replied, lowering myself into my seat. "I don't feel so good." I whispered.

He smiled hesitantly. "Neither do I. I never liked planes."

"But the air craft-"

"That's fine," he said, and then jerked his head towards the man sitting next to him. "WE don't need him to hear anything."

"Relax," I said, hating the clink of the seatbelt- I was strapped in. "He's sleeping."

"You need to relax," He said. "You look scared to death."

"I don't like planes or enclosed spaces," I told him. "I actually just found this out."

He smiled grimly and checked his watch. "Just about nine and a half hours to go." His forced smile slipped. "Oh yay. Nine and a half hours."

I made a face. "Don't say 'yay'. It sounds stupid and out of character. And childish. Very childish. And you haven't been a child for... a while."

He laughed quietly. "You don't know my age, do you?"

"No," I said. "But-"

"I'm just as old as you are."

"No, you're not." I said, a little hostile. "I may look like a twenty-something year old-"

"Twenty six."

I ignored him. "But I'm much older than that."

"I'm sure you are."

"I am. You forget I went on a little expedition* with Captain America-"

"You mean the guy that's frozen?"

"Yes."

He laughed louder now. "He's been frozen for sixty-five years."

I nodded.

"You forget," He said. "I went with you."

I frowned and turned a little angrily. "No you didn't. I would have remembered."

"Says who?" He asked promptly. "I remember. You had straight hair instead of those gorgeous curls you have now."

I froze. "Gorgeous?"

"I said that out loud, didn't I?"

I turned. "You think?!?"

"Sorry," He whispered. "I didn't mean too."

"I'm sure you didn't." I retorted, then suddenly added "I'm tired. I'm going to sleep now."

"Okay," He said. "You do that."

I leaned my head back and surprisingly, woke up eight minutes before the plane arrived in Budapest, Hungary.

We pulled up in front of the apartment we would be living in. I wrinkled my nose at it.

"This is it?" I asked. You have got to be kidding me. It looks like some old person designed it and it's a little odd. I feel like people have died in there and I do not want to go in there, much less live there."

"No one died in there," Barton said, tired. "And try not to insult people while we're here. I don't want to make things more complicated than they already are."

"Complicated?" I scoffed, but the lyrics of a song started swirling around in my head- why do you have to make things so complicated? I see the way you're acting like you're somebody else gets me frustrated. "I make things complicated?"

"Yes, you do." He said, helping me yank out the last bag from the trunk of the taxi. "And please avoid it."

"Okay," I said. "I'll try."

He paid the driver and I picked up two bags and strode over to the front door of the building. I knew my muscles were out of place with my 'gentle' face and flowing sundress.

I put down the bags to search for the key, but Barton had it. He leaned over me and unlocked the door and we lugged in the last of the bags.

I glanced out the window to see the tail-lights of the taxi disappear from view.

Together we unlocked the final door- the door to our temporary home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* Reference to 'Captain America: The Winter Solider'

As of the publish date of this chapter (January 5, 2014), the movie is not out, but some stills are out, and we know that Natasha has straight red hair!

Using that as a reference.

And I won't be doing notes as part of a chapter unless there is a little (*) thingy.

Extra points if you got the song reference.

(Complicated- Avril Lavigne)

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