Lost in the seas of forgotten memories
A/N: I didn't not forget about you guys! School has been crazy people! CRAZY! Final year of high school! But I won't abandon this awesome story! We still don't know so much about this big mystery I'm orchestrating :D Even I don't know how it's going to play out! (Well obviously I have an idea…LOL) but here is the brand new chapter! Please excuse the little angsty suspense at the beginning! What is a story without a little suspense huh? ;)
Chapter 11
RECAP: The Avengers have just successfully finished their first mission with Natasha since her accident 3 weeks ago that caused her to lose the last 3 years of her memories. They split up as per protocol to meet up at a rendezvous point 30 minutes after the end of their mission. Natasha and Clint were the last to leave the mission site after having a cheesy, fluffy, gag worthy moment against a wall – with a guard audience to boot. He asked her out, she said no once again – blah blah blah.
"Intelligence over strength wins the war. See you at the rendezvous point Barton." She said simply before she stalked down the alley with a triumph smile on her face.
"You know you liked it!" He shouted after her. Woosh.
He found a knife embedded in the wall 2 centimeter from his ear. Ah womanly affection had so many forms.
Memories memories memories memories
45 minutes later.
4 Avengers stood around the designated rendezvous point nervously looking at anything except Clint Barton. He was intently staring at the entrance of the warehouse with his arms crossed across his chest and an intense look on his face.
She was late.
Natasha was never late.
Clint continued to stand there like a statue while Steve and Bruce shared a worried look over his shoulder. 'What do we do?' Steve mouthed to Bruce silently. Bruce shook his head. 'I don't know,' he mouthed back. Steve worriedly glanced at the stony archer. Bruce gestured towards the closed door with a wary look on his face. Steve tapped his watch and Bruce sighed. Tony and Thor watched this silent tennis ball match-like conversation go back and forth for several minutes.
"Stop making constipated faces at each other you two –you're worse than the gossiping junior agents in the SHIELD cafeteria," Clint said frankly not taking his eyes off the doorway in front of them for a second. Steve and Bruce simultaneously went bright red. Steve was the first to recover from Clint's dry barb.
"Clint, you know we're all worr-" he started to say but Clint cut him off.
"I'm not worried – she'll come," Clint said simply. Steve didn't look so convinced and neither did the rest of the team.
"It's been 15 minutes after our scheduled rendezvous time Clint," Bruce said slowly. Clint tensed – he knew that – he was listening to his watch tick by each second Natasha didn't appear in front of them with a deadly look on her face that dared them to question her tardiness. He could yell at her later for scaring the shit out of them – right now he was just getting a teensy bit frustrated that she was taking so long. Or so he kept telling himself.
"No one gives a shit about protocol here Clint – but SHIELD will want an update within the next 90 minutes. They are stick up their ass strict about stuff like that," Tony said pointing out the obviously time limit they suddenly found themselves working with. The one thing he didn't mention was the fact that the success of the mission was banking on the retrieval of that coded location.
The document with the code which was currently sitting in a dainty little purse belonging to an heiress of an insurance company that didn't actually exist. The purse with the document that was in the hands of their reliable Russian spy - yet who somehow was the same Avenger that managed to go missing in less than 60 minutes.
"I know what the protocol dictates Stark. I was a SHIELD agent before you even had your stint in Afghanistan and turned from simply an immature man to super immature man," Clint said blankly. The Avengers shared a wary look – he was doing that emotionless spy thing again. Bad sign. Tony tried to get through to the archer once more.
"Do you think they caug-"
"No – she would have alerted us through the com link if she was captured. At that point it wouldn't matter if she gave us away. She's not messaging us on purpose," Clint said finally tearing his eyes away from the warehouse door and glancing down at his communicator. It wasn't blinking – there were no emergency messages waiting for them.
"But that could be even worse," Bruce said cautiously. Everyone except Clint gave Bruce a confused look. Clint simply stared at the timid Doctor who sent him a knowing look – Bruce seemed to have done his espionage mission homework.
"She's either being followed by the enemy or someone who is equally dangerous," Bruce said giving Clint a look that dared him to refute the possibility.
He didn't say a word.
The silence was deafening.
"We need to find her," Clint finally said with a fleeting sense of anxiousness leaking into his voice– there was suddenly a crack in his emotionless mask.
Natasha was in trouble.
Someone was going to get an arrow stuck right in their eye. Potentially many someones.
"Well that's a brilliant idea– expect how the hell are we going to find a person who specializes in not being found?" Tony asked sarcastically. Clint glared at him.
"I'm not the genius here. What don't have an answer to every question Stark?" Clint asked spitefully. Tony narrowed his eyes at the icy archer. If he wanted to pick a fight…
"Whoa! Where is this coming from? We have bigger things to worry about then petty team backbiting alright?" Steve said breaking up the intense glaring match going on between the two usually chummy teammates. Wow, stress really does bring out the nasty in people. Clint sighed and let his anger deflate – it wasn't Stark's fault everything was going to shit. Not this time at least. Tony just huffed and turned away from the entire team.
"Um…this may not be exactly what Lady Hill said, but isn't there a tracking technical charm or something like that on the communicators? Can you not…um…what is the word? Hack said device Tony?" Thor asked hesitantly. Everyone stared at him in disbelief.
Thor was the voice of reason. Who would've thought?
"Stark-" Steve started to say but Tony was already crouching down onto the floor and emptying his pockets.
"I'm on it," Tony said as he took out his phone and started tinkering with his own communicator.
"How long will it take?" Clint asked warily. Tony shrugged as he connected his phone to the communicator with a couple of wires he had stashed in his pocket - thank god for crazy technological geniuses who carry random gadgets and tools with them wherever they go.
"Give us an estimate," Clint urged. Tony stared at his little phone screen critically and sighed.
"At least 15 minutes. 20 tops. There is a lot of interference in this high profile area," he replied apologetically. Clint swore under his breath. Steve watched the tension in the room rise to unhealthy levels. What was a technologically disabled Captain to do? Find an alternative route that requires old school style of course.
"We should just start looking for her on foot while Stark tries to electronically lock onto her signal. Thor can stay here with Stark and the rest of us can split up," Steve said effectively easing the tension for the moment. Clint nodded and starting walking towards the door at an extremely fast pace.
"Message me if you find anything!" he shouted over his shoulder as he quickly slipped out the door. He started sprinting down the hall the minute he turned the corner.
Every second counted.
Memories memories memories memories memories memories
40 minutes ago.
"What the hell is he playing at?" Natasha muttered to herself as she stalked down another deserted alleyway solely focused on getting as far away from her annoyingly confusing partner as possible. She clenched her fists as the kiss flashed through her mind. She didn't care that they kissed to get the guards off their back – it was a good move on Barton's part. She was pissed because of how much control she really lost during the kiss at all. And if that wasn't bad enough she was absolutely furious at herself for allowing the black widow to fade into the background while Natasha thoroughly enjoyed that kiss.
"That was not supposed to happen," she growled at herself. She was finding cracks in the carefully construction mask that took her years to perfect. She was starting to see the differences in her own mannerisms and how she reacted more openly to things than she remembered. Something was off – something was missing. She could sense that fleeting feeling of recognition at the edge of her conscious mind but once again it slipped away before she could get a good grasp on the complete thought. She's only ever left with pieces – swirling colours and familiar faces. Never anything concrete or for certain though. She growled and punched the wall beside her in frustration.
"Damn it! Stupid messed up memories! Stupid archers who only know how to confuse the shit out of people! Stupid team that cares too fucking much! What type of mindfuck is this?" she screamed as she fell to her knees with her forehead leaning against the wall. She stared at her bruised knuckles vacantly. Why was this all so hard? She was unmade once before – she never had such a hard time recovering from that cycle of memory wiping. Why was it so different this time?
"Sounds like someone is having a little mental breakdown," an amused voice said a couple feet to her left. She froze and quickly spun around to face the new presence in the alleyway. She was getting sloppy – she didn't even hear him walk into the passageway.
A tall relatively well built blond man stepped out of the shadows – she would have classified him as handsome if it wasn't for the maniacal glean in his eyes. He had crazy written all over him. Street thugs were simply annoying.
"What do you want Blondie?" she asked swiftly locking her emotions away to deal with at a later time. The thing about mental breakdowns though was that once they started you can't actually stop freaking out on the inside - you're just ignoring it for the moment.
"Hello Miss Sylvia Cross or should I say Natasha Romanoff. Unusual place to be so late at night don't you think?" the man asked leaning against the wall beside her. She narrowed her eyes. So he wasn't an average street thug after all.
"Who are you?" she asked as numerous red flags immediately shot up in several parts of her brain. The edge of his mouth quirked ever so slightly.
"No one of importance. But you on the other hand are of a lot of importance in our world right now," he said with a shrug. She had to resist the incredible urge to roll her eyes.
"You mean in the disturbing world of disturbing people who do disturbing things in their spare time?" she asked dryly. He gave her a warning look that she promptly ignored.
"You have something of importance in your purse Natasha. And we'd like it back," he said slowly pushing himself off the wall. She held her ground as he walked right up to her and stared her down.
"What are you going to do – try and steal it from me?" she asked staring back at him with and icy gaze. He shrugged.
"You've probably heard the phrase called 'there's the easy way or the hard way'. I don't like being predictable. So let's just say there's only my way tonight. And that this is the last late night walk you're ever going to take," he said menacingly. Natasha didn't even blink. They were all the same. Too confident, too proud and too stupid to see that she had them in the palm of her hand from the moment they started talking.
"I'm not afraid of people like you," she said firmly standing her ground. He brought his face so close to hers she could practically taste the liquor on his breath.
"Why are your hands shaking ever so slightly then?" he whispered.
She promptly socked him in the face.
"You talk too much," she said simply before she flew down the alley and sprinted across a deserted street. She stared down at her hands as she ran as fast as she could. He was right though – she was shaking. Shit.
"No time to breakdown. No time to break down," she muttered to herself and she tried door after door – they were all locked. She continued down another street of winding alleyways and immediately heard several footsteps in the distance closing in on her. So the head honcho's back up thugs were here. Joy.
She looked around the empty neighbourhood and noticed the park across the street. Well if you're going to have some guerrilla warfare it might as well being in some trees. She ran through the small tokenistic forest and ripped her small purse open to reveal a small plastic bag with a few sheets of paper inside. She looked at the bag and glanced back at the thundering sound of footsteps hot on her trail.
"Oh for god's sake," she muttered staring at stupid sheets of paper that were apparently worth millions. She had 10 seconds to make a decision.
"You made a bad move little devotshka. People who dare touch the handler experience the worst type of death imaginable," a rough voice called out 10 feet to her left. She leaned heavily against the tree and held her breath. She knew what she was going to do.
The obviously hired guns carefully walked deeper and deeper into the woods searching for their redheaded target. Their only orders were to retrieve the purse in her possession – how they obtained the accessory from its owner was up to them to decide.
"You were brave enough to get on the radar of some very powerful people little girl. Now why are you hiding from your retribution?" the deep voice continued to taunt her but it wasn't the right moment to act yet. She held back for a couple more moments.
"When we find you we are going to have so much fun Krasivaya. You are going to scream like so many little girls have screamed before you. We're going to make you beg for death – and the moment when you finally crack is when we're going to end your pathetic life," he continued to speak quietly but his voice carried out through the silent forest. When the crazies come to town even the animals run as far away from them as possible.
"Why so silent oh fiery one?" he asked aloud standing merely 2 feet from her hidden position. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she was about to do next.
"You know we're just goi-" his words got lodged in his throat as and large branch came out of nowhere and knocked the breath out of his lungs. He fell to the ground clutching his stomach in pain as the tall figure of their target gracefully appeared around the large tree with fire in her eyes.
"You all talk too much," she said darkly.
The next thing they knew another 2 thugs hit the floor with their own bandanas choking them into unconsciousness. She fell to the floor when a rain of bullets flew over her head and rolled to the side as one of the closer men lunged for her. She kicked him the face with her killer heels and hastily kicked them off altogether. She quickly jumped up and dived towards the side before she started sprinting towards the edge of the forest.
"She's getting away!" one of them shouted. She ducked as another round of bullets flew over her head.
"No she isn't!" another man hollered as he took chase. She sprinted through the trees with the dark haired assassin hot on her trail. She ducked under a low branch and cut left. For a second she thought she had lost her tail when suddenly he dived through a random bush and knocked her to the ground. They tumbled down a unexpected hill and she wrestled to get out of his grasp. He smiled creepily at her.
"You're a pretty spy aren't you?" he said holding her to the ground as they both heard the rest of his team shout in the distance. She snorted – typically shallow.
"Always so focused on the face and upper body portions that men like you always forget about a spy's best friend," she said with a roll of her eyes. He looked confused for a moment until she swiftly kneed him in the groin and ripped her hand out of his grasp. She shoved him off of her and accidently dropped her purse when he yanked her back by grabbing onto her foot. She crashed to the floor and he lunged for the purse that fell a few feet away from them. He spun around and pointed his gun at her head with a smirk on his face as soon as she managed to quickly push herself to her feet. She raised an eyebrow and glanced down. He followed her gaze and saw that she had two guns, one trained on his family jewels and the other pointed at his heart.
"How about you take the purse and I get out of here and we'll call it a day?" she asked tilting her head to the side. He shook his head carefully watching the two guns in her hands.
"Can't do that Red. Dead or alive wasn't in the message – it was just recovery at all costs. And you're too much of a loose cannon to let go," he said unapologetically. She knew these assassin types – they were simply programmed to feel no remorse. A long time ago she was exactly where he was standing today. But there was something in his eyes that made her pause – he wasn't completely brainless – she could see the rapid speed of his mind working to figure out the fastest way to get in control of the situation. He was too young to be in this type of work.
"What's your name kid?" she asked suddenly. He looked momentarily startled at the unexpected question but ultimately narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"Names don't matter here," he said avoiding her question.
"Sure they do. If one of us is going to die today at least you could do the courtesy of telling me your name," she said simply. He watched her stand there with only open curiosity on her face.
"You're like me," he said with sudden realization. She didn't react outwardly – but inside she smiled. He was different. She shook her head.
"No kid. I was like you. I'm free now," she said trying to get him to see the difference between where he was right now and where he could be tomorrow. He tensed.
"There's no turning back after you're in the game," he said emotionlessly – like he's repeated that same phrase for years and it was engraved in his skull.
"Did Ivan tell you that?" She asked quietly. He froze and the colour literally drained from his face.
"Have you ever wondered if everything you've ever known was a lie? That the world you knew was constructed for you to see it in a specific way and that all the horrors you've seen could be prevented?" she continued quietly. She watched patiently as the realization suddenly clicked in his head and her words finally seemed to reach him.
"But no one has ever left the program and survived," he whispered. She froze.
"Do you even know who I am?" She asked in confusion. He shook his head and stared at her in disbelief. She looked him straight in the eye and hoped that he could see the truth that she could not prove through words.
"My name is Natasha Romanoff and no matter how fucked up my life is right now – I survived," she said firmly. He remained silent after that and refused to respond. She was running out of time – if he wasn't going to make a choice she had to get out of here now.
"If I lower my guns and walk away will you shoot me in the back regardless of what I just told you?" she asked seriously. He looked so lost – a small boy trying to fight to survive in such a big bad world. His face suddenly went blank – he had made a decision.
"My instructions were to retrieve this bag. I won't kill you today, but I can't speak for the others," he said lowering his gun and looking away from her. He was conflicted – but she could tell there was something of the little innocent boy left in there.
"Thank you," she said instead of all the things she wish she had time to explain to him but didn't.
Sometimes you can't save everyone.
She turned around and sprinted through the trees and down the hill that led to the edge of the park. She didn't run as fast as she could because she was hoping for one word that would indicate that she was even partially successful.
"PAVEL!" he shouted after her retreating figure. She smiled and kept running.
2 minutes later.
She groaned as bullets continued to fly over her head. You try and do one messed up kid a favour and the next thing you know his friends have caught up with you and were now playing target practice – with you as the prized birdy. How wonderful. She sighed and suddenly stopped running. The fence dividing the park at the road beyond it was only 10 feet away from her. She turned around and came face to face with over 20 guns and even one machine gun.
"Giving up already?" one of the large thugs called out. She rolled her eyes.
"You all think you're so smart – you've managed to corner one small redhead and now you think you can have your way with her," she said with a laugh. They all looked at her in confusion – was she crazy or something?
"I believe you are confused little girl…this is the part where you're supposed to beg for your life," the large thug continued slowly. She shrugged.
"You see, I learned something from an annoying genius the other day. You don't need to do everything by the book – it's a waste of time and energy," she said taking out a grenade that was strapped to her thigh and unhooking the pin from the top with a quiet pop.
Everyone froze as they watched her raise the active grenade above her head and whip it at them.
They all sprinted in opposite directions.
Natasha ran the last few meters between her and the fence and quickly threw herself over the metal barrier before she heard the large explosion behind her.
BOOM!
She fell to the ground and covered her head as dirt and branches rained down around her. When it was relatively safe to look up she pushed herself off the ground and kept running. A few sparks and flying dirt wasn't going to stop these bastards. She reached a riverbank and ran down the edge of the water and saw a large bridge 20 meters in front of her. She heard a familiar horn in the distance and she got an idea.
She ran the distance between her at the bridge within 30 seconds and glanced back long enough to see the little army of hired guns still on her trail – except now Blondie was back and sporting a nice black eye.
"How's your face feeling? Not so handsome anymore eh?" she called out as she quickly climbed the stairs leading up to the top of the bridge. The mob continued to run down the riverbank as she glanced at the ladder in front of her. What the heck? She climbed that too.
"You're just driving yourself into a corner Natasha!" Blondie shouted as the mob drew closer. She reached the top of the ladder and carefully walked across the bar that connected the two towers that held the bridge together.
DING! DING! DING!
She smiled slowly.
A train was suddenly approaching the bridge at rapid speed.
Blondie slapped one of the thugs beside him across the face angrily.
"You'll never make it!" he shouted as a last resort. She flipped him off and took deep breath before she jumped onto the moving train. She skidded across the metal ceiling and would have almost fallen off the side of the train if she didn't grab onto the edge in time. She hoisted herself up onto the top of the car and collapsed in exhaustion. That was an exhausting post-mission chase.
"You can run as far as you like little devotshka – but one day someone is going to find you and there will be nowhere for you to hide!" the furious blond shouted after her as she laid on top of the speeding train and stared up at the dull sky above her head. She held up a middle finger that he could barely make out.
"That's the day you're going to be shot in the face you little bastard," She huffed trying to catch her breath after all that running. She glanced down at her watch. That fiasco took nearly an hour.
"Shit the evil bastard made me late," she muttered irritably. She wouldn't be surprised if they completely ignored missing agent protocol and were out searching for her. Idiots.
She sighed and let her head bang against the metal ceiling of the train car she was lying on top of. She felt a dull ache build at the back of her head and black spots flicker across her vision. She looked down at her hands and the goose bumps that were appearing along the length of her arms. She was shutting down for some reason. She needed to get off this train and she needed to find a safe place now.
"Why do these things always happen at exactly the same fucking moment?" She asked as her vision blurred in her left eye. She saw bursts of laughing faces flash across her mind. She heard murmurs of an unintelligible soothing voice and the feeling of safety flooding her body. But she knew it was all in her head because she was on a moving train, in the middle of nowhere and if she didn't get off now she was going to be in even more trouble if she passed out and ended up 100 miles away from her team. Then SHIELD would really kick her out of the Avengers initiative. And regardless of how annoying and utter infuriating her teammates were – she kind of liked it here. She was so freaking messed up.
She dragged herself to the edge of the speeding train and barely made out a lower bridge they were about to cross 20 meters in front of her current position. She felt another stab of pain in her head but pushed the ache to side for a moment as she tried to focus as much attention as possible on what she was about to attempt to do.
"This so much harder with only one working eye," she muttered to herself as she prepared to launch herself off a train moving 70 miles per hour into a small 10 meter wide steam. How does Fury do it? Shewondered offhandedly.
"Well here goes everything I stand for," she said as she hurled herself over the edge and dived into the cold water 15 feet below her.
The rumbling sound of the train carried off into the distance and the water splashed on impact from her dive. For several moments there was no movement at the surface of the stream. Ten seconds later a drenched redhead emerged from the shallow water with a gasp. She coughed up some disgusting city water and swam towards the edge of the stream.
"Well hallelujah I'm still alive," she mumbled as she half-heartedly dragged herself out of the water and collapsed onto the relatively dry grass. She looked up at the dull sky and realized it was dull for a reason. The next thing she knew the clouds broke apart and rain started pouring from the heavens and drenched everything in sight within seconds. She sighed.
"I will not say it can't get worse than this," she said firmly. Because she knew it can.
Rip!
She looked down at her torn muddy red dress and sighed.
"Well that was pretty stupid," she said blankly. The sharp pain at the back of her head was back and another few flickers of faces flashes across her mind. She got bits and pieces of the Avengers doing likely stupid things together but the scenery was moving too fast for her to recognize anything. She thinks she saw the hulk in there somewhere and Stark's horror stricken face appeared a lot as well. They were like a freaking dysfunctional family or something! The only real clear thing she could make out every single time was Clint's bright smiling face. He looked unbelievably happy.
He did not look that happy over the last couple of weeks.
She has never seen him that happy before either.
What happened between her last memory and the moment she woke up from her accident?
"Ugh! This is even worse than not having any memories at all!" she shouted up at the grey pouring sky. She looked into the distance and noticed a tall figure sprinting down the dirt road. Who would be out jogging in weather like this? She pushed herself into a sitting position and stood up to get a better look at who the stranger was.
As the crazy jogger got closer she stared at the familiar figure in disbelief. Clint Barton was sprinting down the beaten road 30 meters away from her in a torn and completely ruined extremely expensive tuxedo with a determined look on his face. He must have run for miles. They weren't even in the city anymore! How the hell did he get here so fast?
And more importantly how did he find her?
He nearly tripped over himself when he saw the drenched redheaded figure standing in the rain beside a rusty little bridge– she was even more beautiful now than at the gala because this was Natasha - not the black widow. The one thought that was formerly running through his head for the past 20 minutes finally came to swift halt – almost.
"You're late," was the first thing that came out of his runaway mouth. She rolled her eyes as a look of horror crossed his face – she could tell he did not mean to say that.
"That's the first thing you say to me?" she asked dryly. He sputtered trying to fix his slip up.
"No – well yes- but – can I please just freaking give you a hug first?" he asked desperately trying to organized his chaotic thoughts. The only thing he could really comprehend at the moment was that she safe – soaked to the bone – but safe. She gave him a wary look but instead of promptly turning him down she shrugged.
"Okay…" she said slowly. His mouth literally hit the floor.
"What?" he asked in disbelief.
"What, what?" she asked in confusion.
"Did you just say you'll give me a hug?"
"Um…yes?" she said cautiously. Wasn't he the one who said he wanted a hug?
"But-But why?" he asked still not believing his ears. This was madness! She rolled her eyes.
"I don't know."
"I don't believe this!"
"I can take my hug back…"she said slowly.
"NO I WANT THIS FREELY GIVEN HUG!" he shouted nearly slipping on the muddy ground and falling on his face. He promptly pulled her drenched figure into a tight embrace completely oblivious to the fact that the mud on her dress has officially ruined his tuxedo beyond repair. There was no hope of salvation for this tux.
"You scare the shit out of my every single day Tasha," he mumbled into her hair.
"This was only the first mission we had since my accident," she said her voice muffled by the rain falling around them. He snorted.
"We live with 4 other idiots. I'm always scared for your health," he said firmly. She rolled her eyes.
"Whose idea was the massive cheesecake eating contest huh?" she asked dryly. He pulled back from his bone crushing hug and scowled at her.
"Hey someone laughed until tears came to her eyes when Stark and Thor both ran to the washroom at the same- wait, WHAT DID YOU SAY?" he shouted in shock. She shrugged.
"Cheesecake?" she said warily. He mouth fell open as the realization of her statement dawned on him.
"No way?" he asked in disbelief.
"Yeah – bits and pieces," she said cautiously. He looked ecstatic.
"Everything?" he asked sounding way too happy about that. She shook her head slightly. His face fell – but only by a fraction.
"Nothing major like conversations – but I'm starting to remember stupid things like that and all their faces," she said slowly. The look of pure hope in his eyes was freaking her out a little bit.
"Are you serious?" he asked once again.
"Stop acting like I'm telling you I'm pregnant Barton," she said dryly. His head nearly exploded at that barb.
"Hey! This is a celebratory moment woman!" he exclaimed. She gave him a look…a long, long look.
"It's just memories Barton – not the Noble peace prize," she said dryly. He scoffed.
"Whatever! Nothing can ruin- oh shit," he said looking down at her hands with a slight frown on his face. She glanced down as well and stared at her empty hands – right. Mission. Documents. Angry Fury barking.
"They took the documents didn't they?" he groaned leaning his head against her shoulder. A slight twitch of her lips gave her away. He glanced at her curiously.
"No – not exactly," she said patting her hip that had a barely noticeable bump on it. He stared at her perfectly sculptured thighs for a second before he burst out laughing. She gave him a measured look.
"You strapped it to your leg or something?" he asked with a shake of his head. Her perfect mission record was still unblemished - how does she do it?
"No, I utilized the assets that I had on hand," She said plainly waiting for the inevitable response from the squeamish archer.
He suddenly stopped laughing.
"Wait so you don't have any hidden pockets under there?" he asked slowly. She mysteriously remained silent and simply smirked at him. He groaned.
"Don't tell Stark where the documents were - he may do unmentionable things with that piece of paper," Clint said with a grimace. She snorted and slid a round into her gun with a resounding click.
"Let him try something. The masochist knows what's coming for him if he does," she said frankly.
"You might want to get a new gun – you're gun powder is probably wet and useless at the moment," he pointed out dryly. She scowled at him.
"I can still use it as a clu-ACHOOO!" she interrupted herself with a large sneeze. He chuckled.
"Okay time to get out of this rain before you catch a real cold," he said dragging her back down the road he came. She watched him whistle some stupid American song completely content with been soaked to the bone.
Sometimes Barton made it really hard to remain uncompromised. He looked back at her and grinned.
"When we get back to the tower I'm going to show you my awesome hot chocolate making skills!" he said with a weirdly familiar content smile on his face. It was so bright it was blinding! And yet she couldn't stop herself from smiling back a little.
Scratch that. He always made it extremely difficult to stay uncompromised.
Especially when with each passing day she started to care less and less about SHIELD's stupid rules.
Memories memories memories memories memories
Look! Look! I'm so nice! I wrote until I found a satisfactory happy intersession in the story! Because I don't want you all to cry as you wait for my next far away update! But I warn you now – I may not be so kind next time – so don't kill me!
RANDOM A/N: Have you ever tried grocery shopping with your mom while writing epic fanfiction on your iphone? It's a mess. I nearly rammed our cart into a little old lady. And yes…yes I did write part of this in the food aisle with the Cheetos. So sue me XD