TERRAN WASN'T THE BIGGEST FAN OF GOING UNDERCOVER. Natasha seemed to be in her element when she did, putting on her black wig and standing in front of the mirror for an enormously long time to make sure her eyebrows didn't show a hint of red, but Terran could only lie on her bed and watch her, not wanting to put on his clothes.

"You're not even wearing a wig, don't be a baby," she said, not turning away from where she was perfecting her makeup.

"But I don't wanna go..." he whined, turning onto his stomach to bury his face in her pillow, only to pause, because he expected her sheets to smell like nothing, but there was a nice scent of lavender and sandalwood, which probably meant she had stolen Clint's shampoo, but used her own body wash.

Whatever the case, he liked it, and he tried not to be too obvious as he took a deep breath, burying his face further in her pillow, though from the sound of her scoff, she probably caught him.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, and he made a few sounds in response, shoving his face even further into her pillow, and she scoffed, reaching out to grab one of the magazines, rolling it up and smacking his leg, "Stop!"

"No!" he cried, grabbing the magazine from her hand and tossing it away, "This is what you get for taking so long, I'm not getting up now."

Natasha sighed, tugging off her wig, moving to climb up onto the bed, as well, lying down next to him, and he turned to face her, one half of his face squished against her pillow, and she rolled her eyes at him, turning to look back up at the ceiling.

"Sweets, we have to," she said, and he sighed heavily, reaching out towards her hair which was spread out along her pillow, and she froze for a moment before relaxing slightly, letting him play with it, "I swear, you're actually a child."

"I just like it," he argued, but now he was sitting up, propped up on his forearms, twirling the short locks around his finger, "Your hair is so soft. Okay, now that you're here, we're not getting up and going anywhere, I hate going undercover."

She scoffed, batting his hand away as she moved to sit up and stand, and Terran stopped himself from grabbing her wrist to pull her back, and she froze, turning to look at his hand, starting to pull it back, but when she saw that he had faltered, she relaxed, reaching her wrist out to let him touch, and he lightly closed his large hand against her, his fingers nearly wrapping around it twice, his tug so light that it could barely move her, but she fell back, letting her head fall right near his stomach.

"The faster we get done, the faster you get to go home," she pointed out, and while it was enticing, it truly was, the reminder that he would be leaving gave him a small pang of sadness.

It must have shown on his face, because she raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged, opening his mouth to find some way to tell her that he would miss her when he left, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by it opening, Clint peering in carefully.

"Guys," he called out, waving one of the files, "Change out of your clothes, the lead you were supposed to follow completely crumbled, that guy's out of the country, has been since two nights ago. Take the second lead."

The two sat up, looking towards him as he tossed the file onto the bed, watching as it slid perfectly into Terran's hand. He opened it for both of them to read, glancing up towards Clint who was leaning against the doorframe.

"Do we have to go undercover?" he asked, and Clint shook his head, smiling.

"No, Tree, you're just investigating some disappearances at a local university, Tasha knows what to do. Good luck, I've gotta help Bella set-up for a stint, I might actually need to help her depending," he said, knocking against the wall with the side of his fist before leaving, closing the door behind him.

The two sighed, looking towards each other. Natasha glanced towards the wig she had removed, furrowing her too dark eyebrows. "Well...at least it won't be as intense. Let's hope this is the right one."

Terran nodded, reading over the file, feeling a strange sensation bubbling in his stomach. "Something tells me that it is. But come on, wipe off the eyebrows, I'll meet you out in ten."

º º º

"-I'm just saying, I don't think it's bad for women to be able to think they look good, I hate this double standard where we hate it when women are insecure, but hate it even worse when they're proud of themselves."

"I never said I didn't agree, Sweets, I just asked you to stop talking so I could focus," Natasha said, climbing out of the car in her six-inch heels and suit, sunglasses perched on her nose.

"I think it's awesome that you know how to run in those," he said, and his smile was so big and his eyes so bright that she had to throw him a bone; she rolled her shoulders back and shifted her head slightly.

That seemed to appease him, the man adjusting his own sunglasses and schooling his features, the two making their way across the parking lot and towards the school, ignoring the looks they were garnering from the students they crossed, Terran forcing himself not to smile and strike up conversation.

It had become so habitual to force himself to be kind, that it was a struggle to remind himself to act the way he naturally would.

"Do we know where we're heading?" he asked as the two passed by the front desk, Natasha pulling out the necessary paperwork to get them through.

"I know where we're headed, but according to the few agents who went to college and not directly into the S.H.I.E.L.D. academy, professors are hardly where they say they will be," she pointed out, and Terran laughed, surprised that she had actually made a joke.

The two made their way along the carpeted floors, getting into the elevator, shouldering past the few students were making their way up or out. The few still in the elevator gave them glances and looks, sharing ones with each other, and Terran and Natasha remained as stoic as ever, hands clasped in front of them, backs pressed against the far wall, her shoulder against his arm.

By the time they reached their stop, they were the only ones in the elevator, spread out, Terran power-posing while Natasha simply stood with her hands on her hips. They were a sight to see, but intimidating nonetheless.

Just before the door opened, Terran walked towards her, smiling down at her, his stomach twisting at the sight of her in her heels, trying to get some leverage. "You're so cute, you know that?"

"Don't push it, Sweets," she said, sliding past him and out the door, forcing him to follow her, schooling his features as he did, though he couldn't help the twitch of his lips at the sight of a small crowd of students parting in the middle for a woman who was more than a head shorter than them, even with the heels.

The two continued until they reached a set of double doors, Terran reaching over and pushing them open, finding a man packing up his things at the desk at the front of the room, rows and rows of seats in front of him.

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, watching as a few stragglers passed by Natasha and Terran. "Can I help you?"

"Professor Dillon?" Natasha asked, pausing a few feet away from him, Terran pausing at a different area, but still the same distance away, clasping his hands in front of him.

"Yes, how can I help you?" the man asked, and he didn't seem like the kind of professor anyone wanted to listen to; he didn't seem to be the sort of professor who had run the gauntlet a few times, but he also didn't seem like the type to be young and experienced nor simply terrible.

He was utterly ordinary, and Terran had the sinking suspicion that it was his ability to be overlooked and easily dismissed that kept him alive.

"We're here to ask you some questions about the disappearances of your colleagues, we feel as though there might be a connected reason why they were all kidnapped," Natasha said, and the man's expression turned somber, but also unsurprised.

"Yeah, I figured it'd get to the higher ups. What do you want to know, I was never questioned beyond how I knew them and if I knew if any of them had enemies or why they would just up and leave, if they had," he said, and the way he spoke didn't command any sort of authority or presence; if he had been younger, it might have, but he wasn't.

"Do you have any reason why someone would want to take all of them?" she asked simply, and the man smiled, which was unsettling considering the circumstances.

He must have caught onto their concern as he schooled his features, waving a hand. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate, but I've been waiting for someone to catch on, because the idea is wholly ridiculous, but it makes some sense. Then again, I'm still here."

"What's your idea?" Terran asked, "Believe me, even something super ridiculous could be helpful."

The man nodded, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Well, we were all friends back in college and we all formed this club based around a course we took. The idea of the multiverse, you know? The idea that we could reach other dimensions. We took it a step further and hypothesized the feasibility of combining universes, the ones that are nearly identical save for someone taking a step with their left foot, not their right foot. But we were all fixated on this idea, and we clung onto it, even as we all went on to pursue our careers. Most of us wound up teaching, others just doing research at universities, but the ones that were taken, they were the ones that understood how governments would work, how to create equipment that could possibly reach them, people like that."

"If they were your friends, why aren't you worried about them?" Terran asked, unnerved by how this regular person was acting as aloof as he feared himself to act.

"Because we've had so many people demanding them to show them how to achieve it in the past, but in the end they made it back," he said, waving his hand flippantly, "Honestly, it's now become a running joke to see how many times each person could get caught. The best part is that we have a theory as to why no one's successfully gotten us to work for them."

"What's that?" Natasha asked, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Because they don't have all of us," he said, grinning brightly, "They only get the ones that are well known. Those guys are the nice ones, the ones that share their interests with their students who tell others. But then you got guys like me who keep super quiet. And the guys that do research that don't talk to many people about things outside of their careers. And the people who don't work at universities at all. And the people who weren't part of the course, but were added on 'cause they were our neighbors."

"So what you're saying is there's essentially a hit list," Terran said, trying not to show how agitated he was becoming.

"Not exactly," he said, shaking his head, "Because even if we were all together, we would have too much of one thing, it's just unbalanced. But if they were to find people who were able to succeed in what they need, then we'd all be screwed. But that's near to impossible."

"Why, because you've tried?" Natasha asked, and he shook his head.

"No," he said, shrugging and sitting on his desk, "Because no one has the time, the ideas, the drive, or the reason. This is just a fantasy, something someone wants but when they actually hear all the work and thought and danger that goes into it, the danger it could pose for them and what they want, they give up. The person that actually goes through it has to be equal parts brilliant and equal parts out of their mind to actually succeed."

The two Russians shared a look; unfortunately for them, Constantin was both.

"Do you have a list of the people they would go after?" Terran asked, and the man shrugged, nodding.

"Sure, I told you, it's part of our joke. Here, I have it written down. We usually meet during our lunch breaks and tally up our bets, 'cause they've been gone a while..." he trailed off, as if just realizing what it meant to have Terran and Natasha asking for the hit list and taking him seriously, "They're gonna be okay, right?"

Terran pursed his lips. "I can't promise you anything."

The man let out a shocked laugh, covering his mouth and taking a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Oh God, what am I-their families are in on the bet, what are we supposed to say?"

"Don't say anything just yet," Natasha said, "Don't make a scene. As far as you know, we're investigating and we're going to try our best, but if you make a scene or raise any sort of attention, they could get to you, you understand?"

"Yes," the man said, reaching into his bag and handing her a book, "Here. We're old fashioned and kind of stupid, we thought that keeping all our notes in a book would be smart. We keep it from being hacked, but if we lose it, it's just our universe deciding that its best to keep the knowledge in the hands of someone else."

"Thank you," Terran said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder, "You'll be okay. Just focus on what you have to do and have the happy thoughts of your friends at the front of your mind."

"Okay," the man said, pausing as he pointed towards the book, "Can you just take the list then, I need that to continue the betting pool."

Natasha nodded, handing it back to him, watching as he pulled out a list, handing it back to her. "If you need my notes, just come back and ask."

"Thank you," Terran said, though he caught how suspicious Natasha was and asked, "Why were you so ready to help us and give us something that's so important to you."

The man shrugged, giving him a sad smile. "It's hard for most people to believe, but I believe that the universe doesn't make mistakes. It brought you two together and to me for a reason. You're asking me for something, and I will give it to you, because the only reason why you'd want it is to make sure everything stays in balance, even if you don't know it."

Terran nodded, licking his lips. "Well, for the record, we do know it. So thank you, for listening to the universe and yourself. It means a lot."

The man nodded back. "Thank you for not underestimating me. It's nice, rarely happens nowadays, honestly. Or ever."

Terran patted his shoulder, Natasha already starting to leave. "You have a good day, sir. We'll try our best to bring your friends back."

"Thank you," Professor Dillion said, looking to both Natasha and Terran, "Call if you'd like to hear my theory on mirror dimensions and parallel universes within our own, rather than outside them. They're different than the merging dimensions, however, which have much more impact."

Terran paused, turning on his heel, pointing to him. He felt a weird shift in his chest and butterflies in his stomach at the mention of parallel universes in their own universe, feeling an uneasiness, yet urgency.

"I don't know why, but I think that's going to be important to me."

Professor Dillion gave him a sad smile, holding out his palms. "That's the universe talking. But take it from me, let's hope that the universe is just...yanking your chain."

Terran nodded, following Natasha out the door. "Yeah, let's hope so."

Once the two were safe in the elevator, Natasha looked at the sheet of paper, reading over the names written in small scrawl, just barely legible. "Let's get this to someone who can actually read this. Good for us, though, we have a list of people to find and check up on."

"Yeah," Terran said, his smile strained, "One step closer to finishing this."

He wanted this finished, of course he did. But he couldn't help but look over at Natasha at the thought of it, his mind telling him he was sad at the thought. But what was more, however, was that he could feel it in his chest.

Nothing major, just a slight feeling. But a feeling. That said a lot.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 11.10.18 )

So this was the catalyst chapter, we have a definitive search for Constantin now in place, because it makes sense what he's doing, to some degree, etc etc and so we're just gonna keep going from there and I'm very excited, we have six chapters left after this, don't touch me, I'm hyped.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!