Hello everyone and welcome to the story. My name is GoldenJackal and this is not my first time writing. Believe it of not I've been on this website before, fell out a little bit, but now I'm back and I've brought a boat load of new ideas along with me. But this right here is the first one (and its a good one if I do say so myself). So I hope you like it, and if not well...I do appreciate advise, but please if you don't like my story just stop reading it. No one's forcing you to stick around. I've worked hard in this chapter and I hope you all enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it.

Disclaimer: All Rights Belong to Marvel Comics and Rick Riordan

Chapter 1: Once Upon A Spy

It was a beautiful starry night in Paris, France. The full moon casting its silver light upon the streets below, gleaming off the famed Eiffel Tower. Every street lined with people of all shapes and sizes; some local, some tourists. Nothing but a flourish of movements, no two exactly alike yet all moving together in a unique harmony, a beautiful imperfection.

A party was taking place in a luxurious hotel ballroom with a view overlooking all the city of lights had to hold. It was an elite party, you could only get in by invitation and only those of the highest status had been lucky enough to receive one. The entry way was a flourish of fancy gowns and expensive suits. Greetings and introductions were traded, hands were shaken and smiles were shared. A beautiful string quartet ballet flowed from the double mahogany doors as laughter filled the air. Couples waltzed across the large dance floor and business deals were discussed over a bottle of 1865 Chateau Lafite.

The host, one Mattéo Motte, was a young man with sleek blond hair and wide brown eyes. He had a slightly pointed nose and a wide jaw that would have been distracting had it not been for the large mustache on his upper lip. Motte was only twenty-six and was to receive the family fortune with the passing of his uncle, Antonio Motte. The Motte family had been in the law business for years, and owned a thriving world-renowned law firm. That is until Antonio developed a bit of a gambling problem, before his passing he managed to gamble away over half of the family fortune, bankrupting them. Their law firms were put out of business and the families reputation destroyed.

Until three months ago when the account numbers jumped from zero to three million in one night. Of course this had peaked the interest of several government organizations and a great deal of socialites. Rumors had run wild, everything ranging from drug dealing rinks to selling his soul to the devil for a quick buck. Motte had of course waved these rumors off as nonsense and assured the public that he'd managed to stow away some of his families fortune where his uncle couldn't get to it. This had appeased the publics curiosity and with no proof to the contrary the government agencies had dropped the case.

All but one that is.

The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division wasn't that easily fooled. They knew something was amiss the second they dug into the case. It was found that, while he hid it well, Motte had been receiving monthly payments from an off shore account. It was suspected that the man had gotten involved in the crime rink to regain his family fortune and drag his family name out of the gutter, but without hard proof Motte was untouchable. Of course, with S.H.I.E.L.D on the case it wasn't over until they had what they were looking for.

~Once Upon A Spy~

A slim women made her way across the dance floor, a glass of red wine at hand. Her frame fitting black dress fell down to the floor and complimented well with her head of fiery red curls that fell down to frame her face like a flaming waterfall. It looked as if she had been pulled directly from a fashion catalogue. She fit in quite well with the flashy party gowns and expensive decor, it was because of this that no one so much as batted an eye in her direction.

She brought a hand up to her ear under the pretense of fixing one flashy diamond earring. The communication device was hidden well, unnoticeable unless you were truly looking for it.

"Target in sight," her voice was soft and delicate. Not what one would expect from a professional assassin.

"Are you in position?" So quiet it wouldn't be heard among two let alone two-thousand.

"Position locked," a gruff male voice spoke through her earpiece, "Black Widow you are go for confrontation."

The woman's glossy red lips pulled into a smirk and her wine glass found its way onto a passing waiters tray. She expertly weaved through the throng of people, making her way towards the bar.

"Bonjour madame, wat iz eet I can get for you tonight?"

She gave the bartender a glamorous smile and leaned forward ever so slightly, "kangaroo cocktail, lemon hold the olive."

The bartender, whose eyes had wandered just a bit too far, nodded, "Of-of course madame." He turned just a bit to quickly and went about making her drink without so much as a backwards glance. The woman laughed quietly to herself, she always seemed to have that effect on men. She'd grow use to it over the years, learned to play it to her advantage. That's why she was sent in instead of one of her male colleagues.

She swiped her drink off the counter and once again dissolved into the crowd of party goers only to reappear a minute later at the side of the one and only Mattéo Motte.

"I am so sorry about that Mr. Motte," she spoke while dabbing a napkin across the mans chest, a broken glass lay not a foot away.

The man cleared his throat, "eet iz quite alright madame…"

An almost breathless "Oh" escaped her lips as she straitened up once again and brushed at the invisible dirt specs on her impeccable gown.

"Its Rushmore, Mr. Motte, Natalle Rushmore," a breathtaking smile followed by the batting of long lashes.

Motte smirked, "no need for formalities Madame Rushmore. Eet was, after all, an accident. Please call me Mattéo. Eet iz a pleasure to meet a woman such as yourself."

A light blush stained her cheeks, "why thank you...Matéo, but let me assure you the pleasure is all mine." He took her hand and placed a light kiss on the back of it.

"Though I do wish it had been under different circumstances. I'm absolutely horrible after my third martini."

"Ah, but madame eet really iz no trouble."

The woman sighed, "I just feel that I owe you an apology." She stepped closer and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"There must be some way I can make it up to you," her hand crept up so that it rested on the back of his neck and her other hand found its way to his bicep.

"If you'll let me that is."

Motte's lips turned up into a conspiratorial smile, "of course madame Rushmore." He turned and offered his arm.

"Eet would be my pleasure."

~Once Upon A Spy~

Motte's Cabinet d'avocats was a large office building standing at least fifty stories high. The light of the full moon shone off the buildings glass windows. It was dark inside, not a speck of light could be seen from the streets below. Though there wasn't a person around to tell you that. A dark shadow was cast on the world around Motte's Cabinet d'avocats, a night-time breeze wiped though the air ruffling the leaves of the few trees in the area.

A shadow crept through the darkened alley way on the buildings north side. The person was of average hight with a lean yet muscular build and they moved as if the shadows were a part of them. Not a sound was heard as the person fiddled with the service entrance door and slipped inside.

Another shadow leapt across the rooftops landing atop that of Motte's Cabinet d'avocats. This shadow was slightly taller than the first, with a similar build to the figure on the ground, though this one seemed to have something on its back, but without proper lighting it was impossible to tell what it was. Then the figure disappeared.

"I'm in," the soft voice echoed through out the wide atrium. It was dark and still, much like the rest of the building. The staff had left hours ago and, if their information was right, the security detail didn't do patrols. They'd already set the security cameras on a loop yet the young man-made sure to stick close to the wall.

"Me too, top floor," the gruff voice that responded was undoubtably the same as the one who had replied to the red-haired women at the party.

"Copy that, meet you in Motte's office."

"Hawkeye out."

With that settled the man began to slowly move along the wall, sticking to the shadows. His foot steps were near silent on the marble flooring, but due to the cavernous ceiling even the slight scuff of a boot echoed throughout the room. A single streak of light shone through the large front window. The man's path just so happened to lead him through this very point. As he passed if anyone had been looking they would have just been able to make out a pair of sea-green eyes that seemed to glow in the dim lighting and raven black hair as untamable as the ocean's tide.

He stopped in front of a door, and sign depicted that it was the stairwell. Jiggling the knob a few times before deciding it was indeed unlocked and wouldn't set off any sort of silent alarm, he slipped inside. Getting to the 33rd floor by stairs wasn't the ideal situation, but when on a stealth mission one could not simply take the elevator.

He stuck to the shadows the entire way up, slipping past the cameras, just incase. But really getting to the 33rd floor wasn't that difficult, easy was never good.

The floor itself was nothing special. A spacious hallway that seemed to go on for as far as the eye could see decorated with standard office building decor. The walls were painted a plain beige but the carpet under his feet was soft and plush muffling the noise made by his knee high combat boots much better than the marble in the lobby.

The man reached up and press a hand against his ear, "Hawkeye, I'm here, North side."

For a second static was his only reply, then. "Me too. Just touched down, meet me in the office."

The office they were looking for was much different than the others. The door and walls around it were made of glass and the man could see the glow of a computer screen from down the hall. As he got closer he was able to make out the figure of a man hunched over the computer typing away.

The man was a few years older than the first. In the light of the computer it was easy to make out his caramel blond hair. He was dressed from head to toe in black wearing a skin-tight sleeveless top and skin-tight pants. A bow and arrow slung across his back and a pair of sunglasses over his eyes dispute how dark it was outside.

He spoke as the other man got closer, "this thing is armed to the teeth. Encryption's, firewalls, codes, this could take hours."

"It better not, Clint. Who knows how much longer Nat can keep his attention."

The other man snorted. "Percy please, Nat knows what she's doing."

Percy nodded as he knelt at Clint's side. The computer screen was nothing but a jumble of blue letters and Clint's rhythmic tapping of the keys only added more to the mix as he tried to break through the companies firewall.

Every agent was required to learn basic coding and hacking skills, but some had a greater knack for it that others. Percy was not one of those agents. Oh, he had plenty of other talents. He was an excellent field agent, an outstanding lock pick, and knew exactly how to blend in with a crowd. But he couldn't hack to save his life, he blamed the ADHD.

A shiver ran down his spin like a breeze on a cold winter day. Percy's head snapped away from Clint. Sea-green eyes went about scanning the room for intruders. He could feel eyes on him but he couldn't find their location. Rising from his crouch in one fluid motion, Percy turned slowly.

"Clint," his voice was little more than a whisper, his lips barely moved, "we have eyes on us."

There was barely a pause in his typing.

"Where?"

Percy's eyes darted around the room. The untrained eye wouldn't have seen anything, but to an agent the oddities were easy to spot. A slight shift of movement outside the window, a scuffle from the shadows, a flicker of light in the hall.

"Everywhere."

"Cover me."

For a moment everything was still…then. The window burst raining glass down on the occupants of the room, gun shots rang through the still night air. Percy pulled out his gun.

Hope you all liked it and thanks for giving a new story a chance. I look forward to hearing from you in the comments. So please favorite, follow, and review it means a lot to me. I hope you all stick around for the next chapter, cause its going to get interesting. I have a plan for this story and want to see it through. Last time I was on this site I made the mistake of trying to write two stories at once, learned my lesson there, but when this ones done I will be writing more.

So thanks again guys, hope you come back for the next chapter. Bye!