When Melinda May woke up, and got ready for her usual morning workout, she was expecting two, maybe even three things. One, Coulson, with his usual over cheery, over fake, over annoying grin, and her coffee. Two, the S.H.E.I.L.D. gym where she usually worked out to be clear of everybody except maybe Hill. And possibly three, a nonexistent pile of paperwork that she had to do before the day was over. Wait, who was she kidding? Number Three always happened, no matter how many people she threatened. What she was not, however, expecting, was someone who was supposed to be on S.H.E.I.L.D.'s Most Wanted list punching away on her punching bag. Nope, not what she was expecting, not in the least. However, in Melinda May's mind, there were two kinds of people. The type of people who followed the rules, and generally failed in life, and never had any fun. And the people who broke every rule possible without getting fired, and had the time of their life. Melinda May, even though she quit field work, could still cause a decent amount of havoc when she so chose, and classified herself in the latter category. And that is why Melinda May found herself walking up to someone who was supposed to be able to kill her with her pinky, (yeah right) and asked, "Would you like to spar?"

The woman whirled around, having not noticed May until she spoke, and hard, gem-like emerald orbs stared into May's dark brown ones. "Pardon?" She asked in heavily accented English.

May snorted, "Cut the accent, it's not going to work."

The woman looked quite taken aback at being addressed like that, and for being called out on her act. "I could kill you with my pinky," she pointed out.

May grimaced, "Unlikely."

The woman raised in eyebrow. "Barton said to not accept any challenges, he said to not make any contact with anyone but him and some Cheese guy."

May scowled, "Should've known Coulson and Barton would be the ones to do this. Anyways, Barton's an ass, and if anyone has a chance of knocking you on your ass, it's me, so would you like to spar?"

The woman raised both eyebrows this time, and commented, "You're quite cocky, maybe I should take you down a couple of notches."

"Doubt it."

"You're on."

May grinned, and led the woman over to the sparring mats.

"Ugghhhh," Natasha could not recall a time when she was older than 12 and had been knocked on her ass as many times as she had while sparring with the Asian women who had very good reason to be as cocky as she was. Admittedly, she had landed in a few good hits, even knocking the Asian women down once or twice, but really, Natasha knew that in a real fight, she was a goner. The only consolation that she could find (and it was a very small bit) was that the other woman looked as tired as Natasha. Then again, she also wasn't the one on her ass, so it wasn't much.

"You okay?" The woman asked Natasha, as she offered a hand up.

"Yea, m'fine." Natasha replied, as she straightened herself out. "Just wasn't expecting all that from you. Maybe from Barton, but not you."

May cocked an eyebrow, "And what are you insinuating?"

"Nothing, you just don't look like much."

"I'll have you know, lady, that I can control your life in S.H.I.E.L.D. with a well-placed piece of paper, and a couple of keystrokes. I also trained Barton."

"My name's Natasha, you know, lady." Natasha muttered sourly in response.

The Asian women let out a peal of laughter at Natasha's childishness, and grinned, "I knew that."

Natasha grimaced, and stomped off to the showers, as people started to arrive. Well, it was only one lady, but Natasha was not taking any chances with the scary women of S.H.I.E.L.D. for a long, long time.

Melinda simply grinned after her, before realizing two things. One: Maria was here, and if she didn't wipe that stupid grin off her face now, she would be in biiig trouble. Like, Coulson sized trouble. Two: It was the first time that she had smiled like that since Bahrain, and May missed the feeling.

After her refreshing shower, Natasha returned to the room that S.H.I.E.L.D. had issued her, and took out the laptop that came with the room, determined to dig up as much as she could on the lady that had beat her earlier. Before she knew it, hours had flew by, and Natasha had gathered an insultingly small amount about the woman. All she knew was her name, (and it was a lovely one) and other unimportant things about her. Nothing about her past, or why such a talented person was sitting in Admin. Someone knocked on her door, and Natasha scrambled to hide all of what she had been searching up about Melinda May. Barton and another man strolled her room, and Natasha had barely managed to close all of her windows and switch to a more boring site about S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol.

"Hey," Barton said, "What's up?"

"What's up is that I've been stuck here for the better part of the day, and the only time I'm allowed to exercise is at the crack ass of dawn. I thought you said I'd be able to do things?" Natasha whined crossly, and no, she did not whine, it was not dignified, she merely expressed her disapproval in a more childish manner.

"Sorry," Barton grimaced. Then he brightened. "Oh, right, I wanted you to meet Phil Coulson, otherwise known as -"

"Don't say it," The man next to Barton warned.

"Cheese?" Natasha asked.

"How did you know?" The man asked curiously.

Natasha shrugged. "I'm special."

Clint snorted. "Damn right."

Coulson raised his eyebrows, but remained otherwise silent. "Anyways, I'm Clint's handler, and will be yours, too, when you officially join us. Is that alright with you, Natasha, or would you prefer another arrangement?""

Natasha merely shrugged in response, and said, "Whatever's okay with you, I guess I'm fine with. But aren't you supposed to have a partner or something, to help with whatever you do?"

Coulson smiled demurely, "Yes, Melinda May, she doesn't do field work anymore, but I assure you, I'm more than capable of handling two assets at one time, even without May's help, no matter how nice it would have been."

"Yeah," Clint joked, "You could have just made her glare at everyone to make them obey, and then if they resisted, have her beat them up."

"Clint..." Coulson glared at Clint, and Natasha could have sworn that she saw something other than annoyance in Coulson's eyes when he glared at Barton. It was just admiration, though? People admired their coworkers who were especially skilled in their job, right? Coulson didn't have any feelings for the admittedly terrifying Melinda May, right? She was just imagining things, right? Natasha shook her head. Why would she even care about these things? She shouldn't. After all, she, the Black Widow, had no feelings for the woman nicknamed the Cavalry, did she?

"Well, back to business," Coulson said, and Natasha's mind flew from the enchanting topic of Melinda May.

The three of them talked over the conditions of Natasha's employment, the expectations, and the restrictions on her access to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s servers at least until she proved herself capable of the job. Once all was said was done, and the men had left Natasha's room, she mulled over the topic of Melinda May, and what to do about he. Natasha resolved to once more wake up at the crack ass of dawn, and thoroughly learn all about the enigma that was Melinda May. I mean, seriously, her files were more secure than Fury's! And that was saying something.

The next day, Natasha woke up at the same exact time as yesterday, and excitedly prepared to meet May. However, she was quite disappointed when May failed to show up for that day's early morning workout. She was also notably absent the next day. And the next. Finally, when a week had almost passed, and Natasha was beginning to give up hope, Natasha received a letter that read:

Tomorrow night? You can pick the place – I know, I'm so nice and thoughtful.

- Melinda May

(The Person who knocked you on Your Ass)

And Natasha smiled.