Chapter 2
Maria doesn't remember calling her Nat. She remembers, however, Agent Romanoff calling her by her first name. Maria. She remembers the way her name sounded, the gentle tone of the Russian's voice. It is the first thing that comes to her mind as she wakes up in her bed, in the exact same position she was left hours ago, spread wild lying on her front.
She doesn't move just yet, she revels in the soft buzz of her body. She feels really relaxed for the first time in weeks. The last time she felt so at ease was when she had enough down time to go back to her appartement and retreat to a spa close by. God, a spa would be perfect right now. Warm water, warm tea, hot steam, healthy food and regular massage, and no one to talk to her for hours. Peace and quiet. But it's not for now.
Maria has a very good memory, she registers everything in her mind, folds it neatly in drawers in the ever growing library of her brain. She maybe was tired and a little hazy – she can admit that – but now that she is fully rested she can revisite the moment she lived with... Natasha.
She remembers the feeling of Agent Romanoff's hands on her, the way her skin welcomed her touch. She closes her eyes and allows herself to relive it plainly. The gentle, almost tender manner she was handled from her desk to her bed, the rich tone of her calling her name, the powerful yet smooth presence of the quiet woman standing in her office, watching her, watching over her. She remembers her own reluctance to let go of her work -she had almost finish reading the report of the London's mission about a possible new asset – and the feeling of safety.
It is a feeling she isn't used to. She knows what it feels like to be physicaly safe since she tought herself how to fight and enlisted in military. She knows the feeling of security she creates for herself, from herself. This time it was different, this time she felt it because someone other than herself was protecting her, taking care of her. And she allowed it. That is the most surprising part of it all. She accepted it completely.
It isn't the first time someone tries to take care of her. She had few lovers in her adult life, and at some point each one tried to make her drop her guard, to hold her in their arms, waiting for her to fully relax, trusting them to keep watch. She never was able to. All her life she only knew the need to protect herself, to be vigilent. It was born out of necessity early on in her childhood, and it is a feeling that never left her. She never dared to let it.
She never trusted anyone enough to do it.
That is why she is amazed and a little sheepish about what unfolded with Natasha only hours ago, pretty much without her conscious consent. Which never happens either. Maria is always in control, even tired as she was, she would have keep watch.
She remembers seeing the door opening, catching red hair with the corner of her eye while focusing on Baldwin's poor handwritting. She remembers going for her glock out of habit before remembering it was Agent Romanoff she already spoted earlier, dismissing her presence as she was no immediate threat at the moment. That was normal behaviour for her when in situation with low energy suplie. She selects where to put her full attention, but keeps an eye out even then. Except something changed the instant Natasha called her name.
Something inside her purred, she can only describe it like that.
There was a wild animal deep inside of her, always wary, keeping watch over her, always on the defencive, always on the run. Surviving. She knows a psychic eval would tell her it is her inner child felling afraid, unsafe, always fearing to be bitten, or worse. She knows it's there, it's a part of her she accepted a long time ago. The broken part unable to heal, unable to move on from her past. That is the wild, wounded and growling animal she keeps locked deep inside. A dangerous, feral part of her ready to lash out.
Natasha's quiet presence tamed it in minutes.
The mere thought of it sends Maria's guard up.
She hasn't realise it was down. It is never down. She is always alert, even in her sleep.
What the fuck is going on ?
She doesn't know, and it is a britch in her control. She doesn't do well with mystery. It is one of the main reasons she became a spy. She doesn't like surprises. Gathering all the intel, she is prepared for whatever happens.
In front of the recent event, she sees only two choices : explore this new element so it'll become something close to normal and not as nerve frying as it is now. Or run. Avoid a repeat of the situation at any cost necessary.
She doesn't do running.
/
Her six hours of uninterupted sleep – she suspects Natasha being the cause of the uninterupted part, yet she doesn't comprehend how the woman did it –, a hot shower and a black coffee later, Maria finaly finishes her paper work. For now. There is always more coming in and to be done, but she decides to let the administrative side of her job apart for now.
Maybe she'll actualy take Fury's suggestion and hire an assistant to do those tasks for her. She accepted the Deputy Director 's post to protect and handle hard situations at hand, after all, not to sign mountain of bureaucraty modalities.
She makes a detour by the mess, salute the Agents crossing her way in, piercing each of them with her steady gaze. She knows it unerves them as much as it boosts them. With each eye contact she sends them her encouragement, reminds them of the value of SHIELD, of what they stand for. She reminds them to be proud and to thrive for more, because the world depends on their protection. The rapid penetrating stare is enough of a motivation. It is worth more than any lecture. Efficient, quick, it takes nothing out of her busy scheldule and it makes all the difference while the current Director shines by his absence. Again. The man is never here.
If it weren't for the random orders he sends her way from time to time seemingly out of nowhere, Maria would think she is fully in charge of the agency. She is glad she isn't. Being Deputy Director is hard enough work, and she prefers it anyway. She doesn't want to deal with the Council and all the politics. She wants to handle missions, supervise her agents's well being, that is what she likes to do.
Today is no different. A sandwich in hand, coffee to go, she walks to the main deck. The room is busy as usual, but a quiet busy. A 'everything is happening accordingly to mission plans' kind of quiet. No mission gone wrong, no emergency extraction, no wounded and most of all, no dead agent on the field. Everything goes smoothly, and Maria thanks every deity for this. After the last cathastrophy she really needs a holiday. Maybe she will be able to take some days off, soon.
She feels like the spa is calling her from afar.
She shakes her head and focuses on the list on screen. The on-going missions and the ones waiting to be send. As Deputy Director she personaly handles the most classified missions. She chooses which team goes where, fallows all the prep and watches it unfold from afar. She then reads the reports and congratulates the team in her office.
Today two high leveled missions are waiting her assent to go. They've been over the details of each operation, both needing to be synchronised for it to work. The communication between all parts is key.
She choses Agent Coulson and Agent May to handle each their unit of three agents. One taking care of the technology aspect – cams, coms, scans, jamming devices and such -, one principal spy going in, sometimes under a fake cover, sometimes sneaking in avoiding getting caught – it always depends on the field's previous observations, only Maria makes the call about how to proced about it – and one guarding in the shadows, ready to strike and protect his partner.
Agent May's regular team is ready to go. Jemma Simmons, Daisy Johnson and Barbara Morse form an efficient femal group of Agents, so in tune with one another that they can improvised if necessary. The Inhuman Quake's abilities often comes in handy.
Agent's Coulson old team is chating with them in the room above the main desk. Maria can spot Quake talking animatly with her hands to an awkward Hawkeye rubbing his neck. He is sending 'help me !' glances to his partner Romanoff, but Natasha is too busy rolling back in her chair, smirking at the scene, to stop the show. Doctor Simmons's biology expert is a little nervous, the grown woman still gets stage fright before going in, but it passes the moment she is on mission mode. For now she is fidgeting next to a very bored Mockingbird. The Agent obviously itches to uses her eletric sticks to bit them out of there. She prefers to go in as soon as possible and be done with it. Fortunately she is very well tempered once in action, juggling easely with all sets of emotions from crying on command to tremendous patience. Once she is in. Now she doesn't seem the patient kind at all.
Agent Coulson and Agent May are standing side by side quietly in front of the wall windows, looking out. Their back is to Maria but she knows them well enough to know their faces are relaxed, almost peacefull, not caring of the bantering happening behind them. Their quiet friendship is the rock promising the mission's coordination will go smoothly.
Maria glances at her watch, takes a deep breath and switches in Commander Hill no'nonsense mode. Shoulder square, she marches in the room, her tablet still in hand. 'You all know what to do.' She stares down at her agents, all suddenly quiet and serious.
'Time to go'
With a nod they fill out the room. Maria doesn't give more attention to one agent in particular. She doesn't. Still, when long, curling red hair passes her vision she says 'Be careful'
/
Coulson and May handled the mission as best as they could. They retrieved the intel, destroyed the labs and all datas, then bombed the place to the ground. It is a success. Yet, Agent Romanoff has been hit. Nothing serious, just a scratch according to the coms from the field, no extract team necessary. Medic is taking care of the injury now that they are all back to base.
Everyone is off, debriefing is due tomorrow. Some of them are probably out for a drink or a long night of sleep, some – Bobby – are having a poker feast, others are with their family. There is one that is still here.
After five years watching her from afar, reading reports and assessing her mental and emotional state, Maria knows Natasha is most likely in the training room of the helicarrier, burning off what tensions remains from the assignment.
Maria refused a long time ago to read the details of her psychic evaluations. She only read the psychologist's conclusion clearing her for missions. Romanoff's weakly sessions added to the gym are a routine that seems to help the ex-assassin getting rid of her traumatic past. Maria can only guess how each mission, while being what Natasha thrives at, is also somehow a trigger to bad memories and underlying guilt.
It is 0311am when Maria takes a break from looking at canditates. She will chose an assistant by the end of her shift. She keeps the two most promising files apart, stands up, stretches and goes for a walk along the ship. She needs to move out of her office, and it's always good for moral to see the Deputy Director walking around.
She doesn't make the conscious decision to go to the gym, yet Maria finds herself in front of the doors. She can hear the steady humpf of a bag being punch. She doesn't stop to think, she knows it's better this way. She pushes the door and entered the large training room.
At this time of night it isn't surprising to see agents running drills, but tonight Natasha is alone in there, focused on the hanging punching bag. She is wearing the regular training set of sport bra, and shorts. Her black tank top is discarded on the floor. She is bare feet, jumping back and fourth on strong legs, guard up. Her fists are not gloved, just banded with the customary white band protecting her knukles. Her beautiful red hair, which she has let growing back, are falling under her shoulder blades so she keeps them out of the way in a messy pony tale.
She looks quite dishevelled hitting the bag again and again without missing a beat. It isn't like the collected Agent Romanoff's façade she usualy shows the world. Here, in the middle of the night, alone in her fists and kicks session, Natasha lets go of her restrains and finaly allows herself to fully express herself.
It is a magnificent demonstration of brutal grace, and for a moment Maria forgets to breath.
Natasha's fighting stance never wavers, she alternates quick punchs, left, right, left, an elbow move, pivot left, right, guard up. Her foot work is perfect, always keeping her balance as she drops down, dodging invisible opponent, throws a hook in the mix, pivots and starts her legs work without breaking her rhythm. She is breathing hard in the quiet gym, totaly engrossed by her fight, she doesn't notice when Maria finaly walks toward her.
The Commander choses to move around her, coming up from the front as to not strattle the boxing woman. The only clue showing when Natasha spots her is the short pause of breath she hears before the agent continues her training, green eyes on the swiging bag. Maria closes the distance then, grabs the heavy bag, positions her legs and front to steady it, not caring it her uniform gets a little crumpled.
They don't talk. Natasha doesn't look at her. For her part Maria has some difficulties keeping her eyes to herself. From up close, the Russian is absolutly gorgeous, a delicate balance of both smooth curves and hard muscles. Her full breasts firmly supported by her fitting bra as still teasingly showing, glistening with drops of sweat. The sweat goes down to her toned abdomen and her inviting belly button, before going lower still. Maria averts her eyes and blinks, her hold on the bag secured. She feels every hit vibrating in the bag. The small woman is strong when she lashes out.
Maria's gaze lands on the ground where pale feet jump up and down, back and fourth. Her toes are not polished, she doesn't wear any make up either. This is the most raw Natasha has ever been in front of her, Maria realises, and the woman doesn't cover from her stare. She is explosion of punchs, but most of all, she is explosion of emotions. Her face is a mixture of angst, sadness and anger with a little bit of confusion, making her grimace in a silent snarl, eyes shining unshed tears.
She doesn't hide while Maria watches her. She doesn't want to. Maria can only guess that she feels safe with her seeing that private part of her. Like she saw Maria's private part this morning tucking her to bed.
Somehow, that makes them even.
After long minutes of exertion Natasha decreases her stance, then stops completely, drops her hands to her knees. She bends her uper body, breathing hard, blinking the sweat looking at the mat. Maria doesn't move an inch, too entranced by the woman standing right in front of her. Natasha focuses on her breath a moment more before straightening up, banded hands on her hips just above her black short. For the first time today they lock eyes.
They are both wild awake now, alone and close, but still they do not move or speak, just breath, blue eyes to green eyes. Maria waits to see if Romanoff will chose a mask to herself now, hiding behind a less tangled image she can project of her. The woman is an expert at personalities flips, always picking the one that suits her the most according to the situation. It is one of her best qualities and also her bigger curse.
When she first landed at SHIELD facility, she had an arsenal of personalities. She could impersonate anyone in a heart beat, a shy secretary, a cold scientist, a crying selfdestrusive teenager, ... but she didn't know who she was underneath it all. The Red Room programmed her to be a tool, the perfect assassin, nothing more. She wasn't allow choices, opinions, likings. She was a muppet being used or stored under lock, that is all she ever was. Joining SHIELD wasn't just about guilt and righting her numberous killings, it was also about discovering who she really was.
After five years among the agency, Natasha Romanoff knows a lot about herself, but she still discovers new pieces now and then. What Maria knows about her is that the woman is reserved, picking up carefuly what she allows people to see about her, about the real her. She tries to remain truthfull and honest with the agency, she doesn't use her fake personalities outside of cover missions, she draws a line there, but still, she doesn't let much people in. In fact, beside Clint and his family, Maria doesn't think anyone else is autorised to see the deepth of Natasha Romanoff - not even the Avengers who became good friends with her along the way.
It is with all this knowledge that Maria waits to witness Natasha withdraw with a polite nod. But it doesn't come. She is still laying bare for her to see all the emotions and fatigue and the barely there track of the few tears she finally lets out mixing with her sweat. Standing here, bare feet with her tousled ponytale, the small woman looks back at her and Maria feels the intense need to drown in her iris.
What is going on ? Why does she feels something very important is shifting between them ?
Maria's guarding stance relaxes, as if reacting to the sight of an opened Natasha. The usual tension she lives by each awaking moment, her usual guard, is droping fast, and it makes her unsure. Her heartbeat increases, and in this situation so new and confusing to her, she is overwhelmed and tries to deviate.
Breaking eye contact, she swallows and say the first thing on her mind.
'I never saw you fight like that on the field, little boxing machine' she remarks with a voice she barely reconises. She is actually teasing the woman. Seriously, Maria doesn't reconise herself right now. It is ambarasing. She refrains to rub at the back of her neck, she is not an awkward teenager anymore.
Get a grip, Hill.
Natasha blinks as if she felt the intimaty they just shared too. Like Maria, Natasha must feel lost, not knowing how to interact now. Welcome to the club. Maria can see how Natasha fights not to hide behind one of her personalities. She is unbalanced and afraid, and she doesn't like it. They are so alike on that front, it is a miracle they are still standing with one another and not flitting the scene.
Truth is, for inconfortable she is at this moment, Maria doesn't want to leave the captivating woman.
She hopes however that Natasha will take the opening to start her usual banter, making their exchange easier. Even if usualy Romanoff banters with Clint, Steve or Bruce, even with Thor – enjoying messing with his awkward misunderstanding of human humor most of the time - , not with the Deputy Director of SHIELD. This is so strange. Stranger than talking to an alien. Maria would not be as nervous facing an other wierd galactic situation gone awry. Give it to her and she takes it in strides, but put her in front of a half naked sweating Natasha Romanoff and she loses all her composture.
This is terrible.
Natasha registers her words, grins at her, but her eyes are sad and her shoulders drop. She lowers her gaze and looks at the ground, her face sour. 'I don't do brutal strenght. I was trained to be a sneaky assassin' Her usual smoky voice is strained, both from physical and emotional exertion.
Maria sees the remorse, the uncertainty. After all those years and hard deprogramming, there is still doubt and self loathing in Natasha's mind.
The woman seems suddenly small and young.
'I was trained to sneak up behind a mark and kill without a sound. My technic has always been one of shadow's efficiency.' She smiles again, her eyes never leaving the mat. 'Steve taught me how to box' she reveals softly, almost shyly.
She doesn't say more. Her words hang in the air and Maria picks up the rest. Natasha the SHIELD agent made a friend who showed her an other way to fight, probably during long training sessions of jokes, banter and the like. This should be a good thing to talk about, but Natasha isn't focusing on that part of her statement, she is reliving her Russian training and her murderous skills. She is traveling in her past, in all the times she used her felin approch to strike with only one, deadly move, leaving her mark of the Black Widow and moving on to the next target. A killing machine.
'Natasha'
Maria calls with the soft voice she nevers uses. There is a profond need she feels burning in her chest, a need to reassure, to confort even. The woman doesn't move, but Maria knows she is listening. She keeps talking, hoping her voice and her words will bring her out of the Red Room, back to the present.
' You are a strong, independant woman now, and you do not kill anymore. I saw your work on the field, i read the reports, you dismantled countless of heavy armed enemies with your usual efficiency, yes, but you leave them alive. You knock them hard so they stay inconscious, you shot their legs, shoulders, foot, where ever you can to incapacitate without touching any artery. You don't take their lives, Natasha. You only takes a life when you have no option left, but even then, i know you find an other way. It is like a reflex for you, to spare them.'
Marie isn't the kind of person who likes to repeat herself, but now she makes an exception, because the suddenly timid woman needs to print that in the front of her brain. 'You strike efficiently, they are inconscious or incapacitated, but not dead when you leave. '
Maria's voice is strong now, the embodiment of Commander Hill. She talks to her agent with her commanding voice.
'You are Natasha Romanoff, Agent of SHIELD. You are a protector, Natasha. You use your skill to protect, protect your friends, like Clint, protect yourself, and secure the safety of all the civilians of Earth. '
Maria releases her grip on the bag, she didn't realise how hard she was holding it. She stands fully in front of the small Russian and brings her left hand forward, catching a chin. Natasha complies to the soft touch and rights her head so they are facing each other. Maria's fierce gaze locks into those haunted green eyes.
The hand on Natasha's chin slowly moves to the side of the face, cupping a cheek.
'Remember who you are, Natasha. ' Maria's voice is soft again, but her demeanour remains resolute. 'You are a protector. You are a SHIELD agent'
Usaly Maria isn't fond of heavy patriotism, but Natasha needs to feel like she belongs to a support unit, to a system reliable with friends. Both of them knows that SHIEL isn't perfect, their is politics at play, manipulations alike, but they all try to maintain the primary goal of the agency : protecting the world. Of that there is no doubt. And for now, this simple – and naive – truth is enough for Maria to make her point.
Finaly, Maria sees recognision sinking. She allows herself to smile at the sight, lingering a little on Natasha's face before sliding her fingers along the skin, droping her hand to her side, breaking contact.
The way Natasha stares at her, so raw, is too much for her to take, so she choses to look away. That is when she notices a pearl of crimson blood on the bround. Fallowing the trajectory she sees a long red line drawing along Natasha's right arm, leading to her shoulder blate.
'You're bleeding'
Natasha blinks a little, moving out of her daze she looks at where Maria points. Silently grateful for the change of topic, Hill is in officer mode again, moving around the agent, scaning skin, assessing damages. Romanoff's brutal boxing session tored the gash open. It seems to be superficial though, nothing to worry about in their line of work.
'Did you go to medical ?' Her tone is all Commander Hill. Natasha sends her a look above her shoulder. A smirk starts to appear on her lips, her eyes shine with mirth. That is a sight Maria is more accustomed to see.
'I fallowed protocol, Commander'
They stare for a moment, then Natasha gently steps forward, out of reach from the inspecting fingertips Maria hadn't realise were probing, picks up her shirt from the ground, and heads toward the women lockerroom and showers.
Maria's gaze fallows the light sway of hips, the way red hair cling to the sweating skin of her back. Once Natasha reaches the door, she stops and turns around. Maria doesn't even try to pretend she wasn't looking. They both know she was. Anybody would. Natasha smirks at her, but her smirk morphs into a genuine, almost shy smile.
'Thank you, Maria'
Leaving her words flowing in the quiet gym, she opens the door and leaves.
/
/
/
TBC
/
A/N
I didn't expect it to be so long to write, i planed more but i decided to cut it so you can already read that part.
I didn't watch the movies in a very long time, but i'm getting on it to be fresh on the storylines and all the complexity of marvel's univers. I remember most of the serie. I catch some background stories about the characters on the net, but that being said, mostly i'm gonna improvise anyway ^^
So don't be surprised if the story goes it's own way ! I like my characters matures, no stupid drama scheduled.
THANK YOU so much for your review ! It is so nice to know you enjoy the stories ;o)