I don't own the characters, only the ones that I created.

Hey Everyone :) So I've been struggling with writing lately so I turned back to my story I don't want to talk about it and decided to write the story I got an idea for in the reviews. It was from Jobeth-S: "I really hoped that Stella would be able to talk to Natasha, too. That she would get to the Black Widow's deepest emotions. Could you write something like that? It seemed that Stella is getting there, slowly, but still getting closer to Natasha. I think you could write about what is under her facade perfectly!"

This story has 6 parts and I will upload it in three chapters. It is set after I don't want to talk about it ends and it is about Natasha's journey with therapy and Stella. I am fairly certain it can stand alone as well.

Also, not to tease anything, but I am kind of getting ideas about new therapy sessions with others too, so maybe Stella will return :)

Enjoy!

PS.: English is not my native language, so there's that.

1.

"You did not recommend Tony Stark to be part of the Avengers initiative," I start the session. Natasha definitely seems bored, but I do not let it deter me from getting some information out of her.

"That is correct."

"Why?"

"Stella, you read that report, didn't you? Self-destructive, narcissist—"

"I did read it, yes. I'll tell you what I don't understand though. First Fury contacts him about the initiative. Then you do not recommend him. Then SHIELD reaches out to him when Loki arrives, he says no, then he joins your team anyway."

"Your point?" Natasha asks.

"I wonder if you had a particular reason not to recommend him besides the mentioned ones," I say. It looks like she is not impressed with the question. But as long as the therapy makes her show emotion, I don't really mind what kind it will be.

"Are you insinuating that I had a personal grudge against him or something?" Well, at least she is invested in the conversation now.

"Did you?"

I am not sure I like the way her lips press together tightly. "Obviously not. That would be unprofessional."

"Yes. But we are not here to pretend you're always as professional as one can be."

"I beg your pardon?"

I dig my grave deeper. But she seems indignant, offended, angry - she seems Natasha instead of the Widow. This is my time to prod and push until she gives me what I need. Emotion, information, progress. Anything.

"I'm just saying that you were caught in rather indecent positions with agent Barton on numerous occasions."

She rolls her eyes. "Here we go again," she says and then murmurs something in Russian too. "How does that make me unprofessional? Or does SHIELD's therapist evaluate now what I do in my free time?"

"No, that is not what I meant."

"Stella, can you stop using my sexual life against me?"

"I don't—"

"You do. You keep doing it, ask about my relationship with Clint and other men and my targets."

I try to cut in but she doesn't let me.

"I was asked to evaluate Tony Stark to see if he was a good fit for the team. I came to the conclusion that he was not. There is nothing more to it."

"How many similar assessments have you done?" I ask.

"Some."

"How many people did you recommend for a position?"

"Some." Her arms are crossed in front of her chest and she rests one thigh on the other.

I take a deep breath. "Natasha." She remains silent. "Natasha. Did I… offend you?"

She shrugs and pretends to examine her nails.

"Look, I didn't mean to doubt your professionalism. I know you are great at what you do. We all know that."

"It doesn't sound like that when you sit there just so we can list every little mistake I have ever made."

I groan. "That was not my intention. I apologise."

She looks at me and gives me the slightest nod. Well, that is something, I suppose.

I sip on my coffee and wonder how it could happen. In one moment I thought she would actually share something with me, then she turned around the whole therapy session becoming the therapist and making me the patient, and now she got me to apologise for offending her.

But what is even more important than that, I did not discover anything I hadn't read in the files.

It is time for a different approach, then.

"You and Tony seem to be good friends."

She clicks her tongue and turns back to her nails. "Again with these words, Stella. Friends. Seem to be. Are you insinuating Stark and I have sex?"

"Why would I…?" I ask, now even more confused than before.

"That's your favourite topic, isn't it? My sexual life. You already stated several times that I have sex with Barton, so—"

"It is a fact. Rumour has it when you two have a stressful therapy session you pick my lock and shag on that couch," I say pointing at the one she sits on. Which is the very same one behind which I found a red bra a week ago. Ever since I get daily deep cleaning in here.

She looks rather indignant. "This is mere fabrication and I rebut the insinuation that—"

She stops because she sees my smirk. Damn she's good.

"You are playing me, aren't you, Romanoff?" I ask. "Rebut the insinuation, my ass. You don't like talking about it, sure, but you would never deny it. You would sit here and ask me what I was gonna do about it."

She bites her lip. "Okay, fair enough. I stayed in character a little too much."

"You never got offended over the questions regarding Tony, did you?"

She shrugs again. "Why would I? That would mean I give a damn about this therapy session."

I take a deep breath and nod slowly.

"Good one. You can be proud of yourself. SHIELD's best spy, huh?"

She frowns lightly. "Hey, I just—"

"We are done for today. Thank you, Natasha."

Thank you for wasting my time once again.

She stands up slowly and nods. "Well, see you next Monday."

"Can't wait," I reply. If her raised eyebrow is any indication, she knows I am not being honest.

2.

"I want to talk about your years with the KGB."

"Miss Moon, I can only tell you what I tell you every single time you bring this topic up: no."

"But you haven't heard my offer yet."

Natasha Romanoff, negotiator extraordinaire, raises one eyebrow at me. I translate the move as a please, elaborate, and go on.

"if in this one hour you are willing to respond to my questions about this topic, you won't need to come to the next session."

"Next two," she says.

"Only one. That is the offer."

"This is a sensitive topic, Stella. You could be a little more understanding."

I roll my eyes.

"The next session is off and the one after that takes place wherever you choose. I can go to the gym with you so you won't feel like you waste an hour."

"One session at the gym and I choose the topic."

I can't help my chuckle.

"Deal." I already know she will want to help me train or I will get to watch her beat a trainee's ass while I will be sitting there talking about my exes. Good deal, Moon.

We shake hands and she leans against the back of the couch pulling her legs under her.

"What do you want to know about it?"

"When did you become part of the organisation?"

"When I was fifteen."

I stare at her. I don't want to start off on the wrong foot but fifteen seems too young. But then I simply make a note on my notepad and look back at her.

"How was it different from the Red Room experience?"

She glares at me. "Now now, Stella. This question touches on the Red Room. I am not talking about that shit."

She is clearly making this difficult on purpose, I muse. On the other hand, it was a silly question. I need to wait a lot more until I can bring up the Red Room. That is clearly a trauma she never processed the right way and I need to tread carefully.

So I smile and nod. "Okay. Okay. Tell me about your first KGB job."

"That is classified."

"Tell me about how Clint got you into SHIELD."

"He already told you about that. And by the way, I did not have a death wish."

Yeah, she has no intention to open up about her Soviet assassin past.

"Tell me about the lessons you learned there."

She stops tapping her fingers on her knees. "Beg your pardon?"

Maybe I am onto something. I definitely have her attention now.

"I suppose you still use a lot of skills you—"

"Skills?" She echoes, her voice just a little shriller than normally. "What do you call skills exactly? That I have been through so much waterboarding I must be able to breathe underwater by now? Is that a skill? That I learned twelve languages perfectly only to be able to say 'let me suck you off' to potential targets because part of being a female spy is being sexy enough to distract them? That I learned not to get close to anyone because a failed job could have meant a murdered friend? Is that a skill, do you think that is something I learnt and could use in my new job?"

By the end of her rant she is on her feet and definitely shouting. She points her finger at me and when she stops talking she has to swallow deep a couple of times.

"Natasha… please, just sit back. I didn't want to anger you. It was a badly chosen word."

She slowly sits back. "It was," she nods.

"Drink some water," I instruct and she obeys. "Look, this is terrible. I— I can't even imagine…"

"Of course you can't," she huffs.

We are back to the old argument, great. But Stella, how could you help me with anything? You don't know what I've been through. You could never understand it.

"I see this makes you angry. But that is another life, right? I am not saying you should forget about your past. But you can recognise the patterns that—" I tilt my head to the side when I glance at her.

Her body was practically trembling just two minutes ago. Now she looks relaxed. So relaxed that while I was talking she started playing with one of her long red locks. She twirls it around her finger and lets it go. I doubt she hears a word I am saying.

"You are not angry anymore," I say.

She lets the strand of hair fall and glances at me. "Anger management," she replies and winks.

That wink makes me furious.

"Was that all an act?" I ask softly.

"What are you talking about?" She asks back innocently. When I keep glaring at her she shrugs. Without an ounce of guilt. "It was definitely the wrongly placed word. But hey, this is progress, right? It doesn't make angry anymore. I moved on. Stella, you did it. See? I'm healing."

She is mocking me and I probably deserve it.

"You just broke off our deal" is all I say.

Natasha shrugs. She still thinks it is her decision to show up at the session. All of them think that and I am not sure anymore if they are wrong about it.

But then I realise why she doesn't really care. It is because she does not tell me anything anyway, regardless if she comes in my office on Monday or not.

I start writing again without dismissing her which is slowly making her uncomfortable.

"Stella?"

I look up at her. "That was all for today. Thank you, Natasha."

She looks like she wants to say something else but then she just nods, says goodbye and leaves.

I keep staring at the notepad until my eyes get sore.