First Marvel fic, holy crap. I've definitely written fanfiction before, but not for this fandom. Here goes nothing.
A Clintasha, MCU, multichapter fic about what happened at Budapest. Thanks for reading.
Confide in Me
Prologue
A lot of people are afraid of failure. It's common, and justifiable.
But nobody is as afraid of it as Natasha Romanoff.
It had first been instilled in her days at the Red Room. Working for KGB, defecting to SHIELD and missions thereupon had only driven her more to dread. In a job like her's, where every decision and potential outcome was crucial, failure was simply not acceptable.
And then there was Clint Barton.
She had worked with others before in her career. They had been short-term coworkers, a help when a gun barrel was cold against your temple. But they had been just that. Coworkers. Nothing more, nothing less, and once a mission was done, she was sent on her way for another task.
Clint Barton had been dispatched to do her off for all the trouble she was causing. She still remembered exactly what he'd said, his every action, the relaxing of the bowstring and the arrow back in it's quiver. She didn't know why he decided to trust her, when she still had two sidearms in her hands. Nor did she know her own intentions, as she switched both of them into safety, and into their holsters.
Later, he'd been the only agent willing to work with her.
"I'm your partner, now." He had spoken with a smattering of a grin on his face. Natasha had responded with a weak smile. Now she had someone else to worry about.
The first few missions were easy. Barton and Romanoff both knew that they were trying to ease Natasha into SHIELD, but the routine began to grow monotonous, and they had agreed one evening, unanimously between the two of them, that they'd confront Fury about it.
"We need better missions," Natasha snapped at the latest debriefing, slapping the files and paperwork for the last mission on the glass tabletop. (It had been a recon that mainly consisted of them sitting, undetected, in an alleyway.) Clint stood at her shoulder, face stony. Fury only raised an eyebrow.
"You've been already elevated to a Strike Team status," the Director replied.
"We're the best you've got." Clint stepped forwards, arms crossed. It wasn't boasting or exaggerating. The two were skilled, and there was a click between them so natural that they themselves didn't even notice.
"You're willing to bet?" Fury tipped his head, eyes narrowing. In reality, he had been waiting for this to happen. He had some faith in the Spider and the Hawk, but they still needed to be put to the test. They held his gaze, Natasha glaring with evident fire in her eyes.
"Fine," he relented, acting nonplussed. He took the file from them. "Expect another briefing tomorrow, 1400 hours, sharp." He nodded curtly and walked away.
The two exchanged uneasy looks, and Clint shrugged.
"We woke him up."
Reviews are much appreciated. (The first chapter will be much longer, no worries.)
