It started in the most inconvenient way. Natasha Romanoff had left a leather bound journal in a café one year ago, called away suddenly on a mission. You recognized her instantly- not the casual "Natalie Rushman" mask, but the Black Widow herself. Instead of rifling through the pages of her life, you turned to the back of the book and began writing small notes about your own days, filling it in from back to front.

Weeks later, in a tech store, you spotted her again... this time beside Steve Rogers. You calmly handed the journal back, no fuss, no explanation. Natasha noticed your writing, though. She didn't call you out; instead, she smirked. And so, an odd game began. Whenever your paths crossed- at the strangest, most inconvenient places the journal would change hands. Sometimes she'd leave a note. Sometimes you would.

Now, the game has lasted months. The journal's nearly full, the back and the front meeting somewhere in the middle.

The Avengers' favorite late night diner buzzes with noise, but Natasha sits with her coffee gone cold, head bent over the familiar leather journal. Her pen moves in quick, practiced strokes as she fills another page. But when she reaches the very last one- the place where her words and yours are about to touch... she pauses.

For a long moment, she just stares at the empty paper. Then, with a soft huff of breath (half amusement, half surrender), she writes a string of numbers across it. Her phone number, neatly penned in the center of the page, surrounded by nothing else. No instructions. No signature. Just the answer waiting to be found.

Later, she leaves the journal exactly where she knows you'll spot it since she had seen you enter the diner for your own dinner she assumed earlier.

When you open it again, your entries run straight into hers- and right there, nestled at the middle of it all, her number. Natasha hasn't said a word aloud, but the message is clear: the game doesn't have to stay on paper.