Okay, so this one's going to be a few chapters. I'm sorry it's SO short, but I'm pretty busy with the end of the semester. This one is pretty far from cannon, so if you're a huge cannon fan you may be a little disappointed. It's basically set in Marvel universe, but other than that, it's generic. Let me know what you think! Na Razie!
Natasha bit her nails. It was a bad habit, she knew, but right now she wasn't thinking about that. She was thinking of how much she didn't want to do this mission.
"Listen Fury," she tried to coax her boss into letting her out of this, "I'm sure he'll be just fine on his own."
"Agent Romanov, this briefing is closed." Fury stated coolly, sticking to his guns all the way. Crap, she thought. This absolutely SUCKS. There was nothing particularly difficult or objectionable about the mission itself, it was just that Natasha absolutely HATED Steve Rogers...i.e. Captain America, everybody's darling. She hated him because she felt like he thought she couldn't take care of herself. She hated him for being innocent and old fashioned. She was sure he played it up for publicity because everyone thought it was SO adorable. She wanted to choke herself just thinking about him right now. This was the first mission she was being forced to do with him alone. She could tolerate him in a group...he was diluted a bit more then. As long as she had Barton to make snarky remarks with she was alright. But just her and America's hero? Oh no. The black widow was far from pleased. And to make matters worse? For this mission they had to pretend to be a married couple.
"You're plane leaves in twenty minutes agent Romanov, I suggest you start packing." Stated Fury, snapping her out of her angry haze. She glowered at him blackly, and huffed out of the room. She took the elevator to her floor of Stark tower and changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Next she twisted her straight shoulder length hair into a messy bun and laced up her favorite Nike sneakers. She threw what she'd need into a suitcase and flicked off the light of her room. She texted Fury,
"Are we flying civilian or private?"
"Civilian." Not the answer she had wanted. She hailed a Taxi and soon arrived at the airport, where she impatiently waited for Steve. She was getting annoyed when he finally showed up in that ridiculous brown leather jacket he wore everywhere, holding small suitcase. He was flushed and his hair was wet, like he'd just gotten out of the shower. She stood up, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You're late."
"Yeah I know, sorry."
"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at him. They made it through security in record time and boarded the plane. Natasha wondered why Fury had to have them sit next to each other.
"Do you want some gum?" He offered, politely.
"No thanks." She icily declined. It was an ugly gray evening, she hoped their flight wasn't going to be delayed. Her phone buzzed. She quickly read it before she was forced to turn it off. It was from Clint.
"Good luck Mrs. Rogers "
" *ss hole." She shot back. Suddenly she saw Steve glance in the direction of her phone.
"Where you reading my texts?" She shot an astounded eyebrow in the air and gave him a look that would have melted an iron wall.
"No, honestly, I wasn't I swear I was just checking the time...I forgot my watch..." He finished lamely.
"No you didn't." She motioned to his wrist.
"Yeah, you're right." He swallowed hard. "I didn't. Okay, I'm sorry I glanced at your text message. I didn't even see what it said."
"Likely story. And nobody calls them 'text messages' any more, they're texts. Stay out of what you don't understand, old man." She turned off her phone, put on her sleeping mask, curled up against the window so her back was to that hateful person.