"Wait wait wait," the young girl said, shaking her head full of wild russet hair. "You're saying that I actually get to come with you? Like, on an actual mission?!"

A slender woman sighed as she finished piling clothes into a bag. "Yes, you get to come with me, but only because it's too dangerous to stay here." The young girl whispered "Exciting!" into the air. Then, as an afterthought, the woman looked over at the teenager and said, "As long as you do all of your independent study work."

The girl looked over at the woman, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Your puppy dog eyes won't work on me, Zina."

Zina grumbled as she slumped down on an office chair next to a dark cherry desk. "But Nat," she groaned, "I'm going to be surrounded by paid assassins and secret government agents!" She started spinning in the chair. "How on earth do you expect me to do Algebra 2 homework?!" Nat opened her mouth to say something when the girl interrupted her. "Speaking of that," she said, stopping her chair by sliding her foot across the carpeted floor, "Who's all gonna be there?" She started spinning yet again. "Obviously Director Fury, since he's, like, in charge of the whole world. What about that Hill lady? She kinda scares me."

Natasha Romanoff snorted at this, zipping up her dark duffel bag. "Agent Hill is stoic, Zina, not scary."

"Speak for yourself," Zina said incredulously. "She probably knows 47 different ways to kill someone with a spork!" She stopped spinning on her chair again, looking thoughtful. "Oh wait - that's you."

The woman half-heatedly glared at her younger sister. She walked out of her master bedroom and into the entry way. "I know 56 , actually," she called out, setting her duffle on the small dining table.

Zina's hazel eyes widened behind her thick rimmed Ray Bans at this new found information. She sighed and lightly shook her head, walking over to her sisters large bed and flopped down onto the plush comforter. "Remind me again how we are related."

"Well," Nat started, strolling back into her room and over to the bed, "One night around Christmas Eve, mama and papa got really drunk on rum. One thing led to another, and-"

"I didn't mean literally!" Zina threw a pillow off of the bed at her sister, who blocked it easily, chuckling.

"Whatever, сестра," Natasha said, chuckling. The two sat in comfortable silence until Zina slid off of her sister's bed and padded over to the tall bookshelf. "Are you all packed?" she inquired as she watched her sister gaze up at the tall bookshelf on the opposite wall.

Zina reached for a book, looking at the cover and shrugging. She tossed it on her sister's bed as she reached for another. Natasha peeked at the title: The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe. "Almost," Zina said, putting Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on top of the other book. "I just have to get some books for recreational reading, considering all I might be doing is sitting in a room with no windows or doors, cut off from the rest of civilization." Zina grabbed two books this time, weighing The Hound of Baskerville and Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix in her hands. Her eyes flickered between the two, brows furrowed. After a few moments, she shrugged, and tossed both of them on the growing pile of hardbacks. "I also need to make sure I have all of my school stuff together so I can do my independent study work." She set An Abundance Of Katherines on top of the others. "Then, I have to pack my clothes and toiletries and everything else I need to survive. So actually, I'm not really ready - Oh my god, Natasha Romanoff, why do we even have this piece of garbage in this apartment?!" Zina asked, holding up the thick black book Twilight close to her sister's face. Natasha plucked the book, quick as lightning, from Zina's fingers and clutched close to her chest.

"Because I like it," Natasha stated, glaring at Zina as she flipped through the pages.

"Maybe you should fill your brain with some actual literature!" Zina carried the pile of books out of her sister's room and into her own down the hall. Natasha could hear her sister rifling around in the other room. She got up off of her bed and walked over to her desk, sliding her hand along the bottom until she felt a smooth, small button. She glanced at her bedroom doorway, checking if Zina was approaching, and deciding the ghost was clear. Silently, she pushed the button and suddenly a drawer slid open from the dark wood. As she snatched up her SHIELD I.D. and pistol, Zina suddenly called out a question from her own room. "Hey Nat, is Clint gonna be there?"

Natasha stopped moving, her automatic pistol halfway in its holster upon her hip. Her chocolate eyes became unfocused, blankly staring at the cream colored wall. When would she tell her sister about Clint? Clint Barton, who had only ever missed one of Zina's wind ensemble concerts and took the teenage ginger out to the local Mexican food joint, who he claimed to have the best chips and salsa on the planet, every time he came to visit. Clint Barton, SHIELD agent and expert archer who spared Natasha's life, and convinced Nick Fury to recruit her, and allow the four year old Zina to stay on SHIELD premises with her older sister.

"Natasha, did you hear me?"

The redhead was pulled out of her transfixed state, slipping her pistol securely in its holster without missing a beat. She grabbed her SHIELD I.D. off of her desk and clipped it onto her collar. "Umm," she called, hesitant. "I'm not really sure." She slipped on her black wedge boots and zipped up her matching jumpsuit so it reached her collar bone. "You'll have to ask Coulson," she called back.

Zina suddenly appeared in the doorway, one Doc Martin missing from her left foot, and her old Blink 182 tee half way down her shoulder. She was smiling toothily, though she looked disheveled. "Coulson is gonna be there?" she asked excitedly.

Natasha was glad Zina hadn't noticed her hesitant answer. She rolled with the punches, fluffing her hair while glancing at Zina curiously. "Of course," she explained slowly. "Agent Coulson is right behind Director Fury in command."

Zina whooped and jumped in the air like a war had just been won. Her hair flew in every direction and her shirt rose a few inches, revealing her slightly pudgy stomach.

Natasha looked extremely confused. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows were knitted together, and her mouth was slightly ajar. "What... Are," she paused, "Are you excited?!"

"Uhh, duh!" Zina exclaimed, still smiling, hiking up her shoulder as her t-shirt slid back up to her collar bone. "Phil is awesome!"

Natasha's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Phil? Since when is he Phil?"

Zina composed her self, adjusting her glasses on her nose. She lifted her left leg and fixed her left shoe back onto her foot. "You know," she remarked cheekily, "You don't have to look so surprised."

Natasha quickly put her facial expression in check, taking up her characteristic pursed lips and aloof demeanor. Zina chuckled, and padded back to her room. Nat quickly trailed after her, still insistingly questioning her sister. "Why is he Phil, again?"

"Because I'm pretty sure that's his first name," Zina replied smartly, strolling through her bedroom door. When she noticed Natasha didn't follow her in, she popped her head back into the hall. Her sister was glaring at her, hands resting on her hips. Zina rolled her eyes and her russet curls disappeared back into her room. "Don't get your throwing knives in a knot, Natasha."

Natasha walked into Zina's room and sat herself down on the vintage armchair near the wall of books. She daintily crossed her long, lean legs, determination written all over her face. "So, about Agent Coulson."

Zina heavily placed her World History textbook atop her Algebra 2 one, which sat on her quilted comforter. "Phil Coulson is practically God, Nat," she said matter-of-factly, walking over to her open closet. She plucked shirts and sweaters from different colored hangers, and set about to folding each one. "He could find out what I ate five years ago on the second of May, 6:31 p.m." Zina strolled over to her tall oak dresser and pulled out about a dozen pair of jeans. She went to folding them, and placing them atop her tops, which she had already placed in her large suitcase. "He knows everything about everyone."

Natasha plucked a book from her sisters bookshelf, which covered an entire wall. It was an old one, its binding coming undone and the edge of the pages frayed. She flipped through the pages, not really reading a word the book had to offer. "You do know that he knows more ways to kill you with a spork than I do," Natasha informed casually, dark eyes scanning a yellowed page.

"That what makes him so cool," Zina explained, stuffing shoes into her suitcase. "He eats cheap Italian takeout food by day, and kicks supervillan ass by night!" She struggled to zip her bulging suitcase closed, hopping on her bed and sitting on the lid, tugging at the zipper. She looked over to her lighter haired sister. "Its the ultimate double life!"

Natasha shook her head and rolled her eyes "Well, its a good thing you like him," she said, placing the book on the arm of the plush chair and walking over to Zina, who was still fighting the zipper. "Because you'll be staying with him for the night."

"Marvelous!" Zina proclaimed, slipping off of her suitcase and lading of her floor, having finally achieved the struggle of zipping her suitcase. She now attempted to pull her suitcase off of her bed, but her effort was for naught. She helplessly looked over to Natasha, who rolled her eyes and pulled the suitcase off of the bed in one tug. She then proceeded to haul it out of Zina's room and into the entryway.

"Thanks," Zina called out, piling her 'recreational reading' in her arms and heading toward the front room, where Natasha was with both of their luggage.

Zina set her books on the mahogany dining table. It joined her plush flannel pillow, bright pink backpack, and school binder. Under the plastic cover was her school schedule, which included English 10 Honors and Advanced World History. A photograph was also situated in one corner. Sweatered arms stretched from the two bottom corners to a young girl with long, tousled rust-coloured hair. Her eyebrows were raised and her hazel eyes were wide behind thick rimmed spectacles. She was smiling widely with her mouth open, looking as if she were exclaiming a battle cry. A muscled arm draped across her shoulders, which connected to a man in his late thirties. His dirty-blonde hair was cut marine-style, and one eyebrow was raised in consideration. A piece of curly russet hair, belonging to the teenage girl, was stuck between his nose and upper lip, which was scrunched up to keep the hair in place. On the other side of the girl was a woman. She had the same shaped nose as the girl and the same does eyes, but other than that, there was hardly any resemblance between the two. The woman was thinner, and her hair lighter and shorter, falling just below her chin. Her black jumpsuit was zipped to her collarbone, just like it always was, and her full, pink lips were turned lightly upward. She looked slightly out of place in the photograph, appearing quaint while the two people next to her had comical and absurd looks.

Zina picked up her binder thoughtfully, tracing the photograph over the plastic cover. "If I'm staying with Phil, where are you going?" she inquired, turning to her older sister.

"I have to go collect someone," she said quietly, gracefully slipping into one of the chairs around the dining table.

"Oooh," Zina said, enlightened. "More super spy stu-"

The doorbell suddenly rang, both siblings looking towards the apartment's front door. Zina grinned widely. "Yes!" she exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air. "Phil is here!"

Natasha huffed, pushing her sister lightly on the shoulder. "Go make sure you have everything."

"But I just-"

"Go."

Zina glared at the woman, and defiantly said, "Fine." She trotting back down the hall, entering her room, her soft pink walls slightly clashing with forest green of her carpet. Pictures of male celebrities covered one wall and part of her ceiling, while another was piled high with books.

Zina heard a door open, and then close. Natasha's voice was flat and uninterested. "Agent Coulson, good afternoon."

Coulson's voice was exactly that same. "Agent Romanoff, the same to you."

Zina glanced around her room, snatching up little things here and there that she had forgotten to pick up previously. She grabbed her iPhone charger, astonished that she almost left without it, and stuck it in her purse, along with two extra pads and a tampon. She glanced at the Doctor Who calendar on the back of her bedroom door. A small red dot was drawn in the square two days from then. Zina grimaced, and quickly reached in purse for a tampon. She held it up to the calendar, shaking it lightly. "You did this to me!" she whispered angrily. "I'm going to be in a super secret Area 51-like environment, chilling with extra special government people, and the last thing I need are over exaggerated emotions and a jackhammer nailing me in the lower stomach!" The Raggedy Doctor and his two companions continued to run from destruction towards her, unfazed. Zina hesitated, continuing her glare and the calendar, and promptly sighed, putting the tampon back in her purse. She glared at the picture of The Doctor, The Legs, and The Nose. "Rory, I blame you."

Zina glanced once more around her room, and, satisfied, flipped off the light and walked out of her door and around the corner.
She wasn't really paying any attention to the two voices in the entryway as she walked down the hall. She was about to turn the corner into the front room when Coulson's voice made her stop.

"Have you told her about Agent Barton yet?"

Zina froze, her hair swinging from the sudden stop.

There was a short pause, and then Natasha spoke. "No. No, I haven't."

Zina slowly backed further into the hallway, still intently listening.

"I highly recommend you do so. Soon."

"I am aware, Agent Coulson."

"May I ask when-"

"It'll happen, Coulson," came Natasha's gritted reply.

Zina wasn't sure how long she lingered on the hallway, but soon enough, she snapped out of her frozen stupor, deciding she better walk in on the scene before anyone's neck got snapped. She inhales and exhales deeply, hauls her purse higher on her shoulder, and struts into the room.

"Hey, Philly Cheese Steak!" She rounded the corner into the entryway, smiling. Her russet hair reached the small of her back in a waterfall, and swung animatedly as she skipped over to Agent Phil Coulson.

Agent Coulson was in his signature suit, dark sunglasses in one hand and the other behind his back. His face was lined from years of secrets and dangerous encounters, and his stony features showed no emotion; his thin lips formed a straight line, steel blue eyes, unblinking. He abandoned the staring contest between Natasha and himself, eyes becoming unfocused, apparently deep in thought.
He stayed that for a moment, brows furrowed. Zina looked from him, to Natasha, and back again. Her toothy smile faded slightly. "What,"

she asked slowly, eyes flickering between the two adults. "Did I say something wrong?"

Coulson's eyes seemed to focus, and he blinked a few times, gaining his bearings. He straightened out his suit jacket, brushing off a few nonexistent specs of dust off of his shoulder, and looked at the young girl, slightly smiling. "No, nothing." He turned and grabbed her large suitcase off of the dining table. "Nothing at all." He looked at her once again, sliding on his pitch glasses. "Ready?"

"Of course!" Zina exclaimed. She turned to her older sister and grinned up at her. "See you soon, sissy."

Natasha's smooth features softened slightly, and she embraced her sister. "You bet."

The hug ended, and Coulson had already opened the front door, revealing a black SUV at the curb.

Zina glanced outside at the car and shook her head. "Black," she mumbled, exasperated. "Why is it always black?"

She started out the door and to the sidewalk, trailing behind Coulson, who was carrying her large suitcase. Zina opened the front passenger door when her sister called out, "Behave yourself, Vincenzina Romanoff."

Zina turned around and gave her sister, who was standing in the apartment doorway, a lazy two fingered salute. "Always am." She slipped in the dark car, rolling down the window and waving at her sister as the car sped down the suburban street. Once they were around the corner, Zina turned to Coulson. "So, still have those trading cards?"

A/N: Okaaaayyyy so I have updated this chapter, mainly because I didn't like it. Ugh. Anyway, in case you didn't know, this story if going to go along the plot line of The Avengers (the film), just with an extra character added in! I hope you guys liked it a lot better than the previous version! And just to let you all know, this story is most definitely NOT abandoned! I have just been so busy with school and traveling and things of that sort. But I already have the next four chapters done, and I'll be posting them within a couple of days. I do apologize for my absence, and I'll try to update at least once every two days. Since the wait has been exceptionally long, I have another chapter for you! :D

Please review and tell me how you like it! I hope I do the characters justice, and if I make any mistakes, please tell me! constructive criticism is most welcome!

~Z