Hello All! So happy to be posting the first chapter of the prequel for "Shared Life Experiences"! The story is going to run through an AU version of the events from Captain America: The First Avenger. If there are any requests for specific scenes, feel free to send them to me!

Disclaimer: I own none of this!

"Romanoff! My office!" came a voice from the next room over.

Natasha sighed, putting down the paperwork she was nearly done filling out. Sadly, it sounded like her efforts to finish early were doomed to be thwarted. She stood and started for the office nearest her workstation, fully anticipating another tall stack of paperwork. As of late, she had begun to believe that her coworkers viewed her solely as a secretary. It was incredibly degrading.

She had stuck it out through the same training as all of her counterparts, and training for the British Armed Forces Special Air Service had been a far stretch from easy, yet no matter how much she gave of herself, it seemed as though she would never gain the respect of her peers.

And yet, that never managed to affect her work ethic. Through all the nonsense they threw at her, Natasha Romanoff had always remained two steps ahead. She was determined to prove that an officer is an officer, even in a pencil skirt.

So as she made her way into her superior's office, she was floored to see the manila envelope in his hand baring her name and the crest of the British Armed Forces. She was being assigned.

"Morning, Romanoff" said Colonel Richards.

"Good morning, sir." She wasn't planning on pointing it out, but she had been chained to her desk since 8:00, while her superior officer had not arrived until a little past 11:30. At this point, it was no longer morning.

"You've been reassigned. We're sending you to New York." He seemed uninterested, as per usual.

She picked up the file and started to read. They were sending her to Wheaton, New Jersey. She was going to be assisting the Strategic Scientific Reserve in selecting a candidate for 'genetic enhancement'. She would be working along side incredible minds of science and high-ranking American military officers. The job sounded important, and it made her stomach flip. One thing missing from the orders were dates.

"How long should the assignment last?"

Colonel Richards turned away from his papers to look at her, a look of irritation gracing his not-particularly-pleasant face. "Honestly Romanoff, were you even listening? You're being reassigned. You're not coming back."

That's when it clicked. For some reason, the word 'reassigned' had not registered the first time. She was going to be permanently moving to the States. It wasn't like she had much to lose. Her parents had passed when she was younger, back when they lived in Saint Petersburg. All she would have to leave behind would be her flat.

But then, as she continued to think it through, she started to imagine herself in leadership. It would never happen in London. Not with those sexist pigs presiding over her.

This was a chance to redefine herself. She would be able to start fresh, only preceded by her incredibly impressive resume.

"When do I leave?"

She flew into New York two days later, where she was greeted by a no-nonsense SSR agent whose name was apparently classified. She was then briskly escorted to a sleek, black car with tinted windows. The agent silently took her bags and placed them in the trunk of the car before going around to the driver's side door, which he opened and then motioned for her to take her seat. Confused, she stepped into the car, where she found an envelope baring her name on the dash.

She quickly reached for the envelope, hoping for some sort of clarity as to why she was seated in the driver's seat of what appeared to be a very nice agency car, but the letter inside confused her more.

The keys are under your seat. Follow Agent Gregg.

Just as she finished the letter, she heard the car next to her start up. She looked over to see "Agent Gregg" silently nod to her before putting his car into reverse and starting to move.

She quickly found the keys under her seat and then started the car before hurriedly pulling out of the parking space to follow the agent.

The drive wasn't long, but the sun had begun to set, making the streets of New York start to look more and more intimidating. In an unfamiliar car, following an unfamiliar man, in an unfamiliar city… Natasha was no coward, but the setting wasn't exactly comforting.

Agent Gregg stopped at a store with an awning sign that read: "Brooklyn Antiques", so she did the same. Following him towards the store, she began to panic. Was this man even an agent? Was her luring her to this shop to attack her? Why wouldn't he talk to her?

He pulled out a key and let himself into the shop, motioning for her to follow him in. The shop was typical, littered with a mismatch of antique furniture and finery. Agent Gregg immediately reached behind the counter to press a button, then he led her to a back room where two bookshelves were already slowly sliding apart to reveal a hallway bustling with agents dressed similarly to Agent Gregg.

They made their way to the end of the hallway where she was shown a large, bustling laboratory.

Almost immediately, a man in a while lab coat and glasses approached her. "Goot Ef'ning, Miss Romanoff!" He extended his hand for her to shake.

"Good Evening!" She said, shaking his hand. "This is quite impressive, Doctor…"

"Erskine!" He supplied with a smile.

"Yes! Thank you, Dr. Erskine!"

"Well hello, Sweetheart!" Came an intrigued, nasal voice from the other end of the room. "My name is-"

"Howard Stark. Yes, I'm well aware." She had heard of his cockiness, even from across the pond, and she had no intention of allowing it. She'd dealt with far too many brash men in her line of work. "Could you kindly direct your eyes upward, Mr. Stark?"

It took roughly three hours of flirting for Howard to realize that Natasha wasn't the slightest bit interested in him.

After that bridge had been crossed, she was able to really dig into the job she'd been assigned. She was going to be assisting Dr. Erskine by observing a group of potential candidates for his experiment and then offering her professional feedback for him to consider. While Dr. Erskine was planning on making occasional visits to the training camp, she was there to be a constant monitor and to make sure that whoever they chose would be able to mentally take the enhancement.

She was told that she would be living on base in modest apartment style quarters. She would be required to monitor the potential candidates during all of their training and the keep a close eye on them during their free time. At the same time, she was not to talk extensively about what she was evaluating. They were looking for candid behaviors.

She was also informed that the car that she had driven from the airport was hers, and that after she finished working on Project Super Soldier, the agency would be renting a secure apartment for her.

It amazed her that the office that saw her grow into an excellent agent could not recognize her worth, yet the American office seemed willing to pull out every last stop to keep her with them. She figured she could get used to working in the States.

And as she placed her family pictures onto the bookshelf of her new residency, she decided that the decision she had made was going to work out beautifully.

Day one.

She was immaculate. Suite pressed, hair fixed, and lips painted a deep shade of red, Natasha strode proudly through the wet, 5AM grass and towards the men's barracks, intent on making her status clear from the very beginning.

Stepping inside quietly, she reached for her whistle, took in a deep breath, and blew hard. It was as if all hell had broken loose. Men screamed like little girls. Some fell out of their beds. Two or three of them reflexively covered their ears with their pillows. But one, a scrawny little scrap of a soldier, immediately stood, straightened out his sheets, and snapped to attention at the foot of his bed. Under the bed she could see a modest collection of books, most of them seeming to be on the subject of military strategy. She was impressed.

Natasha walked over to him, pleased with the fact that the sound of her heels against the concrete floor probably irked the sleeping men around her. "What's your name, soldier?"

"Rodgers, Miss." He obviously wanted to be here, and while she admired his enthusiasm, she decided that she would make it her personal mission to break him. On the courses, she planned to run him to exhaustion, but for now she decided to let him have his moment.

"Good job, Rodgers." His face didn't falter. Maybe breaking him would prove to be a challenge after all. "Now the rest of you lazy bastards! Up! You salute your superior officer!"

One of the soldiers who had covered his head with his pillow seemed to perk up to the sound of a woman in his bunk. He swung his legs over the side of his bed, stood lazily as his peers rushed to attention, and stretched as he unashamedly looked Natasha up and down. "I'd have gotten up much faster if you're used that pretty voice instead of the goddamn whistle." He crooned.

As much as Natasha despised this man already, she was internally smirking. He would make the perfect example of what happens when a soldier disrespects her. "I'm thrilled to hear that you think I'm attractive, soldier. Might I know your name?"

"Gilmore Hodge." He sounded so sure of himself it made her sick.

"Yes, Mr. Hodge, would you mind standing at attention for me, but putting your right foot forward?" She laid it on thick, hoping to catch him off guard later.

"Oooo, are we gonna wrestle?" The way he said it made it clear that he wasn't really talking about wrestling.

Natasha stepped up close to him, looking him square in the eye, smirked at him, and then turned as if she were walking away, but as he scoffed the word "tease" under his breath, she swiftly brought the back of her heel to his crotch, before spinning around to punch him in the nose. It was incredibly satisfying.

As he whimpered on the ground, she addressed the rest of them. "Any questions?" Not a single one of them so much as twitched. "Good! Be at the course in 10 minutes. And Mr. Hodge?" He looked up at her. "I hope we now have a better understanding of how this is going to work."

He scowled at her, but to her, it was like the cherry on top of the perfect first impression. She had really outdone herself.

Morning exercises had gone well. She had noticed that Hodge was the favorite of Colonel Phillips. While the Colonel had yet to offend or actively demean her, it definitely didn't sit well with her that one of the three who would decide which of the candidates would be selected for enhancement favored such a vile man.

Even still, she managed to perpetuate her steely stare as she observed them. Her job for the day was to determine who would be taken out of the program at the end of day one. Each day of the first week, a soldier would go home. The workouts, teambuilding activities, and even their break times would be monitored to determine the weakest of the set. After the first week, the remaining candidates would go through a more intense version of the previous week. After three days, the final selection would be made.

Todays unlucky soldier seemed to be Private Martin, which surprised her. While she was rooting both for and against Rodgers, she had automatically assumed that he would be the first to go, just judging by his stature. She hadn't even dreamed that he'd make it to the second week, but the effort he was putting in (added with the fact that he, unlike any of the others, had not even attempted to sabotage another candidate or cut corners to finish sooner) made her believe that the little scrap had a chance of making it. She had to admit; she could see why Dr. Erskine had chosen him. There was something to be said about someone with truly honest intentions. He was growing on her, but she refused to tell him that. Instead, she decided to see how far he could push himself before her cracked.

"Colonel, I think it's time for us to run them." She whispered to Colonel Phillips who immediately chuckled.

"You're trying to weed out Rodgers, aren't you? Poor kid never had a chance." He chuckled, "FALL IN! WE'RE GOING RUNNING!"

As always, PLEASE leave me a review! Please and thank you! :)