LOCATION: S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK
DATE: 8 JUNE, 2012
TIME: 1300
CLEARANCE LEVEL: LEVEL 7
Anita walked out of the psychiatrist's office with confidence in her step. She passed the psych evaluation like she expected- after all, lying is a skill every agent should have mastered. Of course, she'll have to wait a day before she can get back on the job because of the mandatory waiting period that comes after a psych evaluation. The only thing she can do now is go back to her apartment in Brooklyn, but maybe she'll treat herself to something sweet at the cafe that's down the street from her apartment. She'll be celebrating on her own though because life isn't like the mediocre chick flicks about the misunderstood girl with the one best friend who gets her. Also, most of the people here thinks she's either A) a robot or B) a killjoy. Not like Anita really cares to be friends with most of the people here as they are either A) jealous pansies who'd waste their time gossiping about their superiors and complaining about their low clearance levels; B) idiots who can't take their job seriously enough; C) superiors who think are too busy doing things that superiors do; or D) an Avenger. Again, Anita can make it alone; she's faced worse, much worse.
"Is that the girl who didn't cry at Agent Catalina's funeral?" someone whispered.
Anita slowed her confident strut to a normal walk. Of course, someone had to be gossiping about that while she was still here.
"Her? Yeah, that's her, and that was her own brother's funeral. I mean, I know people grieve differently-"
"But not even for her own brother?"
"Yeah, exactly."
Anita considered her options of making the gossipers suffer in their shame. She could ignore them and make them fear for the rest of their lives that she heard them; or she could give them a judgmental glare and get the same results as ignoring them; or she could verbally call them out for their idiocy.
Anita looked behind her to the gossiping desk worker and (supposed) Level One agent and gave them her best judgmental stare. The desk worker and agent both had the 'caught-stealing-from-the-cookie-jar' look before quickly looking away in a desperate attempt to look busy. Anita twisted her lips in what was supposed to be a sassy smirk, but she wasn't sure if it looked like a pained look trying to keep her together.
LOCATION: CECE'S CAFÉ, BROOKLYN.
TIME: 1356
Anita pulled off a piece of her strawberry cinnamon roll with her fork and ate it and took a sip of her espresso. Her taste buds were delighted at the taste of the sweet food, but she wasn't in the mood to smile or sigh in delight about it. The original intent of getting the dessert was to celebrate passing the evaluation, but now, Anita thinks she bought it out of self-pity. Yes, she can handle hearing the whispers saying she's a robot, buzzkill, whatever; but the whispers that speak of her brother or how she didn't shed a tear at her brother's funeral- well, that's a different story. Of course, Anita thinks that telling her inferiors or superiors about the tears she shed after the funeral is a waste of her time. Protecting the world from evil and personal feelings don't mix well, and she can't risk having to take another psych evaluation. Better for the psychiatrist to think Anita's over everything that happened last month than to think she a problem or is a basket-case like Fury was concerned about.
Anita sighed and took another bite of cinnamon roll. She looked out of the window next to her booth seat to see a man on a motorcycle roll down the street. It reminded her of her motorcycle parked back at the parking lot of her apartment's building and how a fast-moving vehicle is not good for driving when the city the motorcycle is trying to maneuver in is still recovering from an alien attack. Granted it was only Manhattan that was effected by said attack, but it takes Anita around thirty minutes to get to and from Brooklyn to Manhattan, and the roadwork only made the commute longer. Damn the Chitauri and their general destructiveness and- and their hideous faces- and- and-
Clang!
Anita looked down and realized she dropped her fork onto her plate. It seemed to have startled the people at the tables nearby judging by their stares. "Sorry," Anita said timidly. She went back to quietly eating her dessert with the hopes that everyone who stared at her were doing the same. Great, more flashbacks to those creatures, and she was supposed to be celebrating today. Anita leaned back in the plush booth and looked around the café. Her attention was immediately brought to the entrance when a woman with dark brown hair entered the café. Anita wouldn't have expected the woman to be a concern- the outfit she wore made her look like either a businesswoman or socialite- but the woman was approaching Anita's table. Anita leaned towards her table and placed her hand over the waistband of her pants where her ever-so-handy taser was hidden underneath. The woman sat down across from Anita and smirked.
"What's up, Catalina?" the woman asked, her voice raspy and playful.
"Who are you?" Anita quietly asked back.
"Relax," the woman said as she removed the sunglasses from her face. Most people would need the woman to have red hair in order to recognize the woman's true identity, but Anita was able to see that the Black Widow herself, Agent Romanoff, was sitting with her for some reason. Romanoff winked at Anita before sliding the sunglasses back onto her face. "I need your help."
"My help?" Anita echoed as she relaxed. "I'm not sure how Fury would feel if I helped you on my mandatory day off," she stated, but she was secretly hoping that Romanoff would still make her help.
"Don't worry; it's not like I'm asking you to come with me to Bolivia or something. I just need you to keep an eye out for someone for me." Agent Romanoff pulled a smartphone out of her jacket's pocket and tapped the screen of it. Anita was given the phone, and she looked at the picture of a bald man with a strange tattoo on his neck.
"Who's this?" Anita asked.
"That is David Romero. He's part of a hacker group that steals information and sometimes money from unsuspecting people. S.H.I.E.L.D. found out about him after an assistant to one of the members of the World Security Council was hacked in an attempt to dig up some dirt on the Council."
"Assistant of which Council member?"
"Malick," Romanoff answered as she took the smartphone from Anita. "Romero was the one who preformed the hack and is planning to sell what little information he got to an unknown buyer."
"And they're meeting up here?" Anita questioned in disbelief.
"Yes. One thing about Romero is that he's not very good at covering his tracks," Agent Romanoff joked. She turned her head to the window by the booth, then began what Anita assumed was looking around the café. "This is a nice spot; close to the emergency exit, away from most of the other tables, next to a window," she looked back at Anita, "You come here often, Catalina?"
"Yes, mostly as a reward for myself," Anita answered before sipping her espresso.
"What good did you do this time?"
"Well, I intercepted a group of smugglers trying to sell Chitauri weapons and passed a psych evaluation."
"Well done," Agent Romanoff said. Anita couldn't help but feel proud of the fact that an Avenger was praising her for a job well done (and for lying her way through an evaluation, but the Black Widow doesn't know that). Anita was brought out of her moment of pride when the bell over the entrance rang. She quickly looked over to see David Romero was in the café.
"Romero's here," Anita spoke quietly. She looked over and saw him sitting in the booth that was on the opposite side of the café but nearly lined up with Anita's both. "He's in the booth next to the neon coffee cup decoration."
Agent Romanoff turned her head to look for said booth before looking back at Anita, "Well, I can see Romero, but it's going to be harder see the buyer."
"So, I'll watch for the buyer."
"Exactly, Catalina."
The bell chimed again, and Anita saw a lanky man in a blue button-up and khaki pants enter the café and walk to the booth Romero sat at. He and Romero started talking, but Anita was unable to hear them over the chatter of the café's other patrons.
Anita looked to Agent Romanoff. "The buyer's here. White male, mid-twenties, brown hair, about six feet tall."
Agent Romanoff nodded, "I'll wait for the buyer to leave; makes less of a scene."
"You got that right; I'd hate for you to ruin my favorite place in New York," Anita joked as she pushed her empty plate aside.
"And I'd hate to add more damage to New York," Agent Romanoff joked back. Anita chuckled before finishing off her espresso. As she set her cup down, the buyer got up from his seat and started leaving the café.
"The buyer's on the move," she said. Adrenaline was starting to course in her along with an eagerness to go after the buyer. She held herself back; after all, this was Agent Romanoff's mission. Then again, "Do you need any help?"
Agent Romanoff's lips twitched slightly as if she was trying to smile (hopefully). Anita inwardly cringed as she realized she asked if the Black Widow needed help apprehending a guy that looks like a gust of wind could knock him over.
"Maybe," Romanoff answered lightly as she stood up at almost the same time as Romero did. "I'll see you around, Catalina."
"Good luck," Anita said as she ignored the disappointment of not getting to help. She watched as Agent Romanoff inconspicuously followed Romero and the buyer out the door.
Anita sighed and slouched in her seat. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and stared at the home screen in the hopes that she would find something to distract her. The few games that are on the phone she had already completed, and she's too paranoid to have a social media account unless it's her e-mail account. That, and she's not interested in the menial drama that social media presents anyway. "I need to get a life," Anita admitted to herself defeatedly as she pocketed her phone. The statement was always nagging her in the back of her mind, but she'd always try to ignore with some ridiculous argument that usually involved something about what happened the last time she tried to loosen up and have a life outside of her job. Anita sighed again and stood up to leave the café.
Anita walked down the sidewalk and tried to ignore the heat scorching New York City and herself. Her apartment was on the same street as the café, thankfully, so Anita would be in the sweet embrace of air condition in no time. Well, that was until Anita heard the sounds of a fight happening in the alleyway next to her apartment's building. She looked down the alley to see a wig-less Agent Romanoff fighting the man who was buying from Romero. Surprisingly enough, the buyer could hold his own despite his lankiness. Romero was also helping him out, which made Anita go after him first. Anita's surprise attack gave her enough time to land some hits on Romero, but she found herself doing defense not long after.
"Let me guess," Romero said after attempting to punch Anita, "You're with her, aren't you?"
Anita kicked Romero's shin. "You could say that," she quipped as Romero reeled back from the attack. He didn't have time to retaliate as Anita kicked him back against the wall of the apartment building. She was impressed at the strength she put in the kick as Romero was unconscious and slumped against the wall. Anita turned to help Agent Romanoff but realized she didn't have to help as Agent Romanoff sat on the buyer's shoulders and used momentum to bring him down to the asphalt ground. Agent Romanoff was fine, but the buyer was either unconscious or fading into unconsciousness. The Avenger looked up at Anita and smirked.
"Looks like I needed your help after all," she said. Anita smirked back until she noticed the blood seeping out of a cut on Agent Romanoff's arm.
"You're bleeding," Anita said with alarm. Romanoff looked at the cut and grimaced.
"Yeah," she said with annoyance.
Anita racked her brain for a way to treat the bleeding woman without taking her away from the two men they just knocked out. "We're next to my apartment," she said in realization. Agent Romanoff looked at her quizzically while she clutched her bleeding wound. "I have a first aid kit in my apartment. Stay here, and I'll be right back," she said as she ran off to the entrance of the apartment building.
After returning with the first aid kit and treating Agent Romanoff's wound, Anita and said agent were leaning against the wall of the apartment building. They were also taking gulps from the water bottles that Anita brought out with the first aid kit. After all, they are in an overbearingly warm alleyway and need something to combat the heat.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. sure is taking their damn time getting here," Anita commented as she pressed her water bottle against her neck in an attempt to cool down further.
"You got that right. Said they'd take a while to get here 'cause of traffic."
"Great," Anita said sarcastically.
"You know, you can go back to your apartment; it's not like I can't watch two unconscious guys," Agent Romanoff stated.
Anita shook her head, "No, you're going to have to give them all of the details of your mission, including my involvement. Then they'll ask why I left the scene, especially when I involved myself in a mission I wasn't assigned to."
"Right," Romanoff said, "I think this heat is getting to me."
"Same here." Anita took another drink of water. "Fury's going to have my head."
"Nah. He'll be fine when he finds out that you saved my ass from those idiots," Romanoff said as she gestured to the still-unconscious men before her.
"Hopefully so."
"What's got you so worked up?" Agent Romanoff asked.
"Fury's not entirely happy with me at the moment," Anita admitted. "I got caught doing work for another agent a couple of days ago, so getting involved in your mission might not help me at the moment."
"What were you doing that for?" Agent Romanoff asked. It wasn't in a condescending tone but a confused tone as to why someone would want to do more work.
"He said there were personal matters he had to attend to, and I don't really have a life, so I took over for him. Besides, all I was doing was just updating a few files." Anita closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She doesn't know why she's saying all of this to the Black Widow, who is technically her superior despite being the same clearance level as Anita, but maybe the heat is just slowly dismantling her inhibitions and sense of how to behave around superiors or anyone who she works with. "I don't know why I'm saying all of this to you. I mean, you're technically my superior, so why should I be telling you about my problems?"
"Mm, it's not like you're forcing me to listen," Agent Romanoff stated. "Besides, I did ask you about it."
"Yeah, sure," Anita said in what she assumed was agreement.
"I have to ask," Agent Romanoff began, "Do you seriously think you have no life?"
"Yeah," Anita answered. "What makes you ask?"
Agent Romanoff shrugged, "I don't know; it's just you're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and whatnot. I don't think I've ever heard anyone who's apart of it say that they have no life."
Anita chuckled humorlessly, "Let me rephrase that. I have no life outside of being an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Oh, then I have heard a few people say that." Agent Romanoff and Anita chuckled at the former's joke.
"I'm guessing you managed to have a life outside of S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Anita asked.
"Somewhat. It's not a very interesting life, but you get the point."
"I don't know," Anita began with a playful tone, "Surely an interesting life would come about if you're one of the people who saved the world from certain doom."
Agent Romanoff shook her head and laughed dryly, "You'd be surprised."
Anita nodded as she was taking in what she's been doing for the past minutes. She wonders what her co-workers would think when Anita Catalina, the straight woman and buzzkill, was having a conversation with the famed Black Widow in an alleyway with two unconscious men at their feet. Frankly, Anita wouldn't believe it herself if one of her co-workers tried to tell her that it happened to him because she wouldn't believe that Agent Romanoff would have time for chit-chat; yet Anita is doing the exact thing. Granted, Anita wouldn't be having this conversation if she wasn't so sluggish and apparently carefree from the heat. Anita takes respect for her superiors seriously, and that includes not invading personal space and trying to have a conversation about herself. At least, that is part of Anita's version of respect. She's not so sure what all of her superiors are okay with, but better safe than sorry.
"You know of any good Chinese restaurants in this city?"
Anita looked at Agent Romanoff in confusion, "Uh, there's one in Manhattan on Eighth Avenue. My team usually goes there, and they say it's pretty good."
"I'm guessing you've never been there before?"
"No," Anita answered. "You thinking of getting takeout?"
"After I'm done dealing with this mess, yeah. Care to join me?"
Anita felt surprised by the offer. "You're really asking me to join you for takeout?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Well, I kind of assumed that you weren't the kind of person to invite someone to get takeout with them after she helped you one time."
"You mean I don't trust easily."
Anita looked at her water bottle, "Yeah," she admitted.
"Fair assumption, but I do think someone who helped me even though she's afraid of getting in trouble with Fury and has a pretty uninteresting life like me could at least have takeout with me."
"You sure?" Anita asked, still in disbelief. Agent Romanoff nodded. "Alright, I guess we're getting takeout once we're done with everything."
"Damn right, we are."
Anita smiled, still surprised she's going to have takeout with an Avenger. "Thank you, Agent Romanoff."
"You're welcome, Anita. Also, you can call me Natasha, you know."
"Right, got it, Natasha," Anita said as she saw S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles park next to the curb.
"The calvary has finally arrived," Natasha said.
A/N: Chapter Two at last! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If so, leave a review or fav/follow, please. Also, I'm starting school next week (unfortunately), so I'm not sure how updates will go. I will try to get up new chapters when I can though. And if anyone who's reading this fic has perhaps read my other fanfic "Partners in Crime (Sort of)", I should let you know that I'm kind of having a crisis about continuing it after I accidentally immersed myself in Tumblr meta about the characterization of Bucky Barnes, and I think I'm going about it all wrong in my fanfic. I'm kinda staunch on sticking close to character and not making cringy characterizations that are basically wrong, so it'd be kind of hard to continue that fic with what I know now and what I have established conflicting with each other. So yeah, sorry for lack of updates on that fic, but like I said, currently going through a crisis with it.
-SirFangirl