Follow up to Mission Interrupted
Natasha stared up at the ceiling of her cell. For three months now, she'd stared at the same grey hexagons that made up the floor, ceiling, and three walls. The fourth wall was currently an opaque force-field. Sometimes it turned transparent, and she could talk to Clint Barton or Nick Fury on the other side. The rest of the time it was as impenetrable as the other walls. Natasha suspected that that opacity was a one-way deal. She certainly would have maintained 24-hour surveillance on any prisoner as dangerous as herself.
"Romanoff." The wall of her cell turned clear and Natasha sat, swinging her legs over the side of her bunk.
Romanoff. Natasha Romanoff. The name fit her as well as any other. Natasha shed identities as easily as most people changed clothes.
"Fury." The Shield director projected an aura of control. He tried to make it look natural, and Natasha knew most people saw it that way. But there was nothing accidental about it. Every detail - from the design of his eye-patch to the cut of his jacket and the measured stride of his walk - was carefully engineered to provoke the response he wanted. Fear. Awe. Obedience. Natasha had seen similar strategies from the leaders of the Red Room. Sometimes the effort came of clumsy and heavy-handed; other times, seamless. Nick Fury pulled it off perfectly.
"You have a visitor."
That piqued her interest, although Natasha gave no such indication. She waited.
Maria Hill stepped into sight. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Fury and stared at Natasha.
"I'll let you two talk." Fury turned on his heel, snapping the motion as if performing parade drills. His coat rustled around him and he walked off.
He was still listening. Natasha knew that. Of course he would be observing, watching and listening to every minute of their conversation. She was certain he did the same when Barton came to visit, but Hill was different.
"Wasn't this the other way around before?" Natasha asked.
Hill smiled. "You mean me in the cage and you on the outside?" She shrugged. "Figured we should switch things up a bit."
"It's not quite the same without the whips and chains. At least I gave you something interested to look at," Natasha said.
"Are you saying I'm not interesting?" Hill questioned, giving Natasha a wry smirk.
Natasha tilted her head. "You are. Now Barton on the other hand..."
Hill laughed and Natasha could have sworn she heard another chuckle from someone else she couldn't see. She would bet two days' rations that Barton was lurking somewhere out of sight, monitoring their conversation just as much as Fury was.
"Besides," Natasha continued, "It's not like I've seen much of you. This cage comes with a much better view now you're here." She smiled.
Hill did not return the expression. Instead the half-teasing smirk vanished. "I knew we should bring you in," she said. "But there were some... concerns. About that decision and whether you had influenced me in making it. Fury thought it would be better to hold you in isolation for a while."
Natasha stood and walked over to stand opposite Hill. She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression as serious as Hill's. She understood the concern. She had captured Hill and - instead of killing her when she broke out - Hill had decided to recruit her. Natasha knew that if she had done the same, her handlers would have called her back to the Red Room for reeducation. And any person she tried to recruit like that would have been killed on the spot, not taken to a cell to sit for three months. "Did I pass?"
Hill tilted her head. "For now," she said slowly. "You won't be out in the field for a while, but you've been cleared to move to regular quarters."
"And you? Did Fury decide I had no... undue influence on your decision?" Natasha asked with a grin and a waggle of her eyebrows.
Hill snorted. "Well, he had some concerns after Barton described that dungeon." She glanced to the side, confirming Natasha's suspicion that Barton was stationed somewhere out of her line of vision.
Natasha's lips twitched. As much as she wanted to continue that train of thought, it was probably best not to suggest to their observers that something had happened between them. She didn't need Fury to think she'd established some kind of hold over Hill. That would only serve to get her locked up for longer. Or dead.
"So when do I get to see my new digs?" Natasha asked.
Hill went to the control panel and typed in a code. "Right now," she said. "I can take you, if you'd like."
The force-field came down.
