Hey all! Thanks to all who favourited/followed my previous fic :) and to Arrington Blake, if you're reading this, thank you so much for taking the time to review "Scarlet" :).
So...I'm in the middle of a new writing project, possible AU, so in the meantime here's a fic I wrote pretty long ago :) oneshot. I don't own the Avengers.
He walks along the deserted sidewalk, past rows of shuttered shop fronts and street lamps. He is decked in a black suit and shiny leather shoes. His suit is at bursting point-he has eaten one too many fine meals. But he doesn't mind. He can always buy another better suit.
So long as his mobster lackeys pay him up.
As he walk, he sees a delicate figure leaning against a lamp pole, shrouded in the murky yellow wash of the lamp light.
She rests her porcelain shoulder on the street lamp. On her head is a black headpiece, with raven-coloured feathers stretching upwards elegantly around a miniature black hat. A black veil obscures half her artfully-sculpted features in a grey shadow. Her eyes are a deep, emerald green, framed with a deft swoop of black liner and long, doll-like lashes. The fiery curls hanging around her chin are the same colour as her cherry lips, which curl into a satisfied half-smile as the man approaches. She wears a sleek black dress, with sky-high heels and silk opera gloves. Diamonds encircle her neck and hang on her ears. Around her hangs the scent of exotic spices.
The man throws his head back in a whoop of joy, and together they enter a deserted back-alley, he in front and she behind.
But it is only after its too late that he notices the gun-shaped lump at her thigh...
BANG!
The night is silent, except for a dull thud and a clear, smooth voice:
"Agent Black Widow here The target has been eliminated. And Coulson, try giving me something harder next time. "