Disturbing fact: this file's draft was named "warhorse.txt"
Natasha strongly suspects, although no one has been so dim-witted as to hint as much, that she was assigned to Sif because, as a women, they have their shared gender to give them a common bond.
Of course she is able to develop an amicable working relationship; Natasha is a fucking professional. If she can convince a sweaty, over-the-hill drug-lord that she finds him attractive, she can convince Sif that she wants to be friends.
"And this is the command centre of the helicarrier," says Natasha, indicating the window bank. She smiles. Yay! Isn't this tour fun? "I'm afraid our tour won't be able to actually enter the bridge, as it might disrupt their work." Natasha hasn't actually been told to keep the Aesir off the bridge, but she objects to allowing foreign powers of unknown capabilities into the operational centre of SHIELD without a compelling strategic reason.
Sif doesn't seem all that impressed by the cutting edge technology on display; instead she is watching the Director. "Your commander... Nick. He leads your army?"
"You could say that," Natasha grins at Sif, although a corner of her mind notes sharply, where is this going?
"He must be a mighty warrior," says Sif, almost wistfully, and all the alarm bells at once go off in Natasha's head.
"It's really more of a ceremonial title," she says, brightly, and tucks her hand into Sif's elbow. "But there is someone I must introduce you to." She gives Sif a tug. She's not sure if Sif wants challenge Nick Fury to single combat, or mount him like a warhorse, but neither is happening on her watch.
She triggers her earpiece. "Hawkeye, urgent you find America and keep him on the carrier. I don't care if you have to steal all his trousers." She adds, to Sif: "You'll love him, I promise."
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