Coulson watched his boss stare down the young woman with dull russet hair as they all sat in a gray conference room. The vein on the side of Fury's head was pulsating visibly and his good eye went unblinking. Coulson had never been on the receiving end of Fury's constant glare and moody silence, but he had sat in on many occasions where he had to endure watching someone on the receiving end (like he was at the moment), and it wasn't pretty. Coulson had to give the girl credit, though; she was returning the director's stare with equal fervor, no words having come out of her mouth since the three of them sat around the stainless steel conference table. She was beginning to grow restless though, he noticed. She quietly drummed her fingertips on the table and chewed the inside of her cheek. Coulson knew Fury would never be the one to talk first. Early in his career with SHIELD, Coulson had gotten interrogation advice from his boss: "Never make the first move. If you want to direct the conversations, let them have the first say. Even if it takes all night. It's a sign that they're giving up."
Coulson hoped that she would crack soon, because he sure as hell didn't have all night.
As if on queue, the redhead woman sighed deeply and wiped her hands on her pants. "Listen, Mr. Fury—"
"It's Director Fury to you, Miss Romanoff." Coulson watched his vein pulse yet again.
The young woman tried to hide her frustrated huff but didn't do so well with the eye roll. This girl was asking for trouble. "My apologies, Directory Fury. Your agent, Clint Barton, decided to spare me—"
"A dumbass decision, really."
This time, the woman breezed right through Fury's interruption, raising her voice as she did. "—Because he saw that I was genuine. About the rejection of my family's traditions. About wanting to help SHIELD. About everything." She paused, looking from Fury to Coulson, her eyes loosing some of their coldness. "And I think, I hope, you will see this, too." She slowly sat back in her seat and wrung her hands in her lap. She was being honest, Coulson could tell; being s spy and a killer, she behaved uncomfortably in the face of sincere words. He was hardly surprised at that fact, now that he had read her file.
Natasha Romanoff, 20-year-old Russian assassin and spy. Master martial artist, expert acrobat and markswoman, professional interrogator. Parents: both dead on SHIELD's behalf. Her father had been responsible for half of the drama during the Cold War while her mother was an expert in ten different forms of martial arts. Natasha learned to throw a knife at the age of six, to shoot a gun at the age of ten, and killed her first political figure at the age of fifteen. She had the body of a cheetah; sleek, slim, and fast. She was a trained killer with enough blood on her hands to paint an entire wall. And yet, one of SHIELD's top field agents, Clint Barton, had gone against his orders and spared her life. Why? Coulson had a few hunches.
Fury's sigh brought Agent Coulson out of his thoughts. "Miss Romanoff," the director began, "I don't think it would be the best idea to take you in. After all, you have killed a lot of good people."
Romanoff looked up at his last words, her green eyes widening. "That was when I deceived! I'm not excusing my actions, but I know better now! Then, I believed that I was doing the right thing."
"And now?" Fury asked bluntly, seeming unimpressed.
"Now I know that what I did was wrong. Very wrong. I also know that I can't take any of it back. If I could, I would, believe me."
Coulson's eyes flickered back and froth between Fury and Romanoff, both of whom were staring at each other again. Director Fury had told him was to be on the ready in case something "drastic" happened. Coulson really didn't want to test his t'ai chi moves against hers because he honestly didn't know who would come out on top. So he decided to keep on the edge of this one and observe how things would play out.
Fury eyed the young redhead wearily, his large hands laid flat on the table. He looked like he was fighting himself, brows knitted and looking at Romanoff with squinted eyes. Coulson knew his boss was searching her face for even the tiniest hint that she was tricking them. Apparently, he saw nothing, because after a few moments of silence, the pregnant pause ended with the director standing to his feet.
"I'm sorry, Miss Romanoff, but I can't accept your offer."
Coulson eyed Romanoff, gaging her reaction. "My offer? My offer?!" She was soon on her feet as well, and though she was shorter than Fury's 6'2", she seemed much taller in that moment. "It's hardly an offer so much as a plea! Would you like me to get down on my knees and beg you? Would you like me to stoop so low?!"
"Miss Romanoff, I would cool it if I were you," Fury said fiercely, taking a step closer as to seem overbearing. The tactic hardly worked, though; she seemed to take it in stride, taking another step towards the director so that they were nearly nose-to-nose.
"No, I'm sorry Director Fury, I will not cool it! I am willing to give up everything to help you and your agency! Clint Barton could have easily killed me, and he strikes me as a man who is not easily swayed by the bat of eyelashes. If you trust him enough to send him on as high stake of a mission as to assassinate me, you should trust him enough to trust me!"
They were both yelling now, and all Coulson could do was sit on the edge of the room and watch.
"Why are you doing this, Miss Romanoff?" Fury questioned incredulously. "Why are you risking your life to help us? How am I supposed to know if this isn't just another one of your acts?"
"It's not a trick!" she nearly screamed. "I'm not doing this to save my own skin!"
"Then I ask again," Fury shouted, the vein on the side of his head twitching. "Why are you doing this?!"
"To protect the only precious thing I have left!"
Coulson was about to intervene when the door to the hallway opened quietly.
Natasha Romanoff's face changed from enraged to surprised to concerned in a matter of milliseconds. "Artemis, what are you doing here?"
Coulson never knew a human being could be so small. Of course, she wasn't an infant, but had to be no older than ten. And even then, the top of her head barely came to the doorknob. She stood timidly as if she were about to bolt away any second and her eyes flashed between the three adults. "I heard shouting," she replied in a quiet voice, gazing cautiously at Director Fury.
Coulson's eyes drifted from Miss Romanoff to the small girl and back again. If he didn't know better, he would think the little girl (Artemis, apparently) was an miniature version of Natasha Romanoff. The same wild hair (though the Artemis' was a shade lighter), the same alabaster skin, and the same pouty lips.
"Why aren't you with Clint?" Romanoff tried again, still seeming to be in mild shock at the girl's sudden appearance. Romanoff's face was slightly flushed from her shouting match with Director Fury, which now seemed ages ago.
At the mention of Agent Barton, Artemis' small brows knitted together and her tiny nose wrinkled like she smelled something bad. "He's boring. All he does is read stuff in yellow folders. When I tried to take one and read it, too, he took it away." She pouted, looking up at Natasha pleadingly. Her gaze traveled behind the woman and she asked in a curious and innocent voice, "Who's that?"
"That's… That's Director Fury. He's the one who's going to find us a safe place to stay."
"Oh. What about him?" She looked over to Coulson, who was still seated on the edge of the room. Before Romanoff could speak a word, he found himself answering the question.
"I'm Agent Coulson. Director Fury's my boss." It was strange saying it in such simple terms. But if he was being honest with himself, he liked that explanation a lot better than 'SHIELD Agent Phil Coulson, Level Seven clearance, serves under the direction of Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD'.
Artemis took a side-glance at the tall, brooding director who, surprisingly, hadn't intervened yet. The little girl bit her lip and looked back at Coulson. "Your boss is kind of scary."
Her frankness would have been funny if the situation wasn't so tense.
"Um, Arty, listen," Romanoff broke the awkward silence following the girl's observation in a much gentler tone than she had been using previously and crouched down in front of the girl. "Why doesn't Agent Coulson take you back to Clint, okay?"
The girl obviously hesitated, shifting subtly from one foot to the other, clasping her small hands in front of her bright purple sweater. Her hair looked like it had been cut maybe once in her life, orange curls falling unceremoniously past her shoulders to the middle of her back. Her bright curious eyes did a once over of Fury again, asking in what she probably thought was a whisper, "Is he gonna yell at you again?" Needless to say, everyone in the room heard it.
Romanoff chuckled at the question, reaching up to tuck a flyaway curl behind the small girl's ear. "No, Arty. I think we're done yelling." She craned her long neck to look back at Director Fury with a certain look in her eye. Coulson marveled at the amount of time it took the woman to go from delicate to authoritative.
Fury almost seemed to shirk a bit under her gaze, pushed into a metaphorical corner. Sighing, he motioned to Coulson. "Take her back, Coulson."
A bit surprised by the turn of events, Agent Coulson stood from his rather uncomfortable plastic chair and walked over to the girl. As Romanoff stood up from her crouch, she made eye contact with Coulson, many unsaid words passing between them. He wasn't sure why Romanoff seemed to trust him, but for whatever reason, she did. He tried to see himself as a trustful person, someone that people can come to for refuge or advice or help. Perhaps he was right.
The two walked in silence for a few moments, the small girl looking back once or twice at the door they had just exited. Coulson pretended he didn't see her look up at him from his peripheral vision. Once they rounded the first corner in the hallway, the girl spoke in a very matter-of-fact voice. "I'm Artemis Romanoff. I'm Natasha's sister. Did you know that?"
The corners of Coulson's lips twitched. "Yes, I did actually." He looked down at her to see her almost pouting, apparently put out that she didn't get the upper hand on him.
She was persistent, though, and tried again. "I'm eight. Did you know that?"
"That one, I didn't know," he answered honestly as they turned another corner.
"Well, now that you know my name and how old I am, its only fair you tell me the same for you." She was diplomatic, Coulson would give her that.
"Phil Coulson, 39."
"Is 'Phil' short for something?"
How many questions was she going to ask? He humored her all the same, answering her inquiries. "No, its just Phil."
Artemis looked up at him quizzically, her brows furrowed. "I don't believe you," she told him bluntly, crossing her arms in such a way that she looked an exact replica of her older sister.
"That's your own choice, I suppose," Coulson replied evenly, though his small grin betrayed his aloof tone.
The girl who walked next to him raised her chin and stuck her nose in the air in a very proud manner. "I'll just have to figure it out for myself, I guess. I'm very good at figuring things out."
Coulson would look back at this small exchange for years to come. He would silently refer to it as "the beginning". As Coulson would watch the small eight-year-old grow into a beautiful young woman who enjoyed the simple things in life like thick books and good music and delicious food. And every time she would raise her chin and stick her nose in the air and say something witty and maybe a little bit snobbish, Coulson saw that small, innocent, curious eight year old with her purple sweater and wild fiery hair, saying, "I'm very good at figuring things out."
And she was. But, as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.
AN: So this was the prologue! The rest of the story will follow The Avengers film. I'll post the next chapter once I get at least 5 reviews, only because I don't want to post it and then it turns out no one is reading it. So please let me know what you think! Oh, and of course I don't own anything that has to do with The Avengers, I only own Arty!(: