Note to fellow writers - Don't write Clint stories while watching Mark Ruffalo films. It's very distracting.

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty Five - Codename

Not for the first time, Carter found herself incredibly grateful for her advanced healing. Clint's hug was crushing, and if her arm hadn't recovered, she'd be in a fair amount of pain as Clint squeezed her tight.

"God, Clint," she spluttered, wrenching him away with a smile. "I've already been through the wars, I don't need half a dozen broken ribs."

"I was so worried about you," he mumbled into her hair, relaxing his hold, but never letting go. As he kissed her cheek repeatedly, Carter couldn't help giggling, his touches warming her heart. "And I'm sorry," he added, pushing her hair away from her face to cup her cheeks in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Carter."

"It's okay," she whispered in reply, her own hands covering his. "I forgive you, I already forgave you. I just…I was just being stubborn, I guess." She pressed an apologetic kiss to his lips, pulling away with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

"What a pair we make, huh?" Clint joked, finally releasing her.

"Given our situation, I think we're doing pretty well," she replied with a shrug. "I mean, this whole thing was always gonna be fairly volatile."

"Yeah…"

"Look sharp, guys," Bruce suddenly interrupted them. "Here comes the boss."

Fury's expression was difficult to read as he strode into the med bay. Serious as always, but some sort of under lying relief, Carter couldn't tell if he was glad she was okay, or just glad he hadn't lost a powerful agent. Well, would-be agent.

"Miss Thomas," he greeted her, hands behind his back. "Good to see you awake."

"Thanks, boss," she said quietly, wondering if there was a thinly veiled dig in that sentence. "I'm feeling much better."

"And I see Agent Barton remains glued to your side," Fury stated, turning his eye on Clint, who only smirked.

"Of course," he said. "Although, thanks to Doctor Banner, I missed her waking up."

"I believe Doctor Banner was valid in expelling you from the med bay," Fury retorted with a similar smirk. "From what I heard, you were more of a hindrance than a help."

"I was worried."

"As were we all." Fury turned back to Carter, face serious once again. "You were the only one there, Miss Thomas; we still have no idea what actually happened to you."

"I was attacked."

"We surmised that much, Miss Thomas," Fury sighed. "I want the team in the briefing room at eighteen-hundred hours for a review of events, make sure you're ready."

"Yes, boss." Carter bit her lip as Fury nodded at the others and left, leather jacket swishing behind him. "Damn," she muttered once he was safely out of ear shot.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked, frowning at her.

"I can barely remember what did happen," she admitted, rubbing her forehead. "Now I need to make a bloody presentation?"

"It'll be fine," Clint chuckled, perching himself on the edge of her bed, one arm slung over her shoulders. "Fury's not asking for every little detail, just the bigger stuff."

"I guess," Carter sighed, leaning into him. She closed her eyes, only to snap them open seconds later when her stomach let out a roar. Clint and Bruce laughed as Carter's face flushed red in embarrassment. "Come on!" She groaned. "I haven't eaten in two weeks. Grow up!"

To Carter's relief, the briefing had been a lot easier than anticipated. When she slowed down, and told the story piece by piece it came back to her easily. Tony had shown up, eager to find out how her suit had held up, and was dismayed that she had lost her daggers. Luckily, Bruce pointed out that it meant he got to make her better ones, and that cheered the genius up straight away, pulling out his sidekick and tapping away, muttering to himself.

Fury had been more interested in the man who had attacked her, especially his limited vocabulary. It had been obvious at the time, but only now did Carter realise the implications; he had been sent for her, and her alone. Hearing it out loud, Clint had tensed, and her own stomach began to churn. Of course N-GES would always be after her, but she hadn't dreamed they were getting so close, or that they could simply want her dead. Steve and Bruce both attempted to comfort her, but it was Natasha that made the most sense.

"You beat them once, you'll do it again."

Carter nodded gratefully. She had been under the impression Natasha didn't like her. She had a deep history with Clint, and hadn't really spent any time with Carter unless she had to, but Carter still appreciated her words.

When the meeting was finally over, Fury stood over them, Coulson and Maria flanking him like always.

"Miss Thomas," he began, tone serious and professional. "As a trainee agent, you were put into a live action field mission, one beyond your experience and training, and you exceeded our expectations in carrying it out. In light of this achievement, it is my pleasure to bestow upon you the rank of field agent, and welcome you to S.H.I.E.L.D. as an official member of operations. Congratulations."

"What?" Carter gasped, eyes wide.

"Hey, hey!" Tony cheered, clapping her on the back. "Welcome to the team, Thomas!"

"Well done," Bruce grinned.

"I said you were ready," Steve reminded her, smiling wide. "Congrats, kid."

"You'll do great," Natasha added, her lips giving her the faintest of smiles.

"Wow," Carter chuckled, turning to Clint, who was still silent, jaw tight. "Clint?"

"I think you're ready," he admitted reluctantly. "Just don't you dare get hurt like that again."

"I won't," Carter promised, squeezing his hand. "Oh my god!" She squealed. "I'm an agent!"

"And agents get codenames," Tony then pointed out. "Come on, Fury, spill it!" Carter fell silent, looking back up at the boss expectantly.

"Carter Thomas," he said with a smile. "Codename; Sparkstrike."

"Got your new daggers, Sparky," Tony greeted Carter, interrupting her training session with Steve.

"Don't call me that," she told him, for what felt like the hundredth time, never ceasing in her pounding of the punch bag Steve was holding still for her.

"Suits you," Steve chuckled, earning himself a glare. "What? You are sparky."

"You're sparky," she muttered venomously, her punches coming harder and faster.

"Come on, Carter," Tony chided, hoisting a metal case onto a nearby table. "Stop being childish and check these out."

Carter sighed heavily, wiping some sweat from her forehead as she stopped battering the punch bag, giving Steve a rest. He followed her as she approached Tony, who was busy unfastening the clips holding the case closed.

"You're gonna love these," he was saying, flipping the lid open. "Just like the last ones, except more conductive, and a little flashier."

He could say that again. The daggers had the same black, curved handles, but the blades were a shimmering golden colour, almost yellow, contrasting the handles greatly. More intricate engravings decorated the length, and Carter scowled when she saw the name 'Sparkstrike' imprinted on both.

"Hey," Steve laughed, noticing her glare. "It's better than 'The Hulk'."

"Yeah, yeah," Carter muttered, picking the daggers up and twirling them in her hands. They felt lighter than before, and fit the curve of her palm better. She liked them. "Not bad," she admitted to Tony, placing them back in the box.

"And I had your uniform repaired," he replied, closing the case back over. "You'd never know there was a bullet hole at all."

"Awesome," Carter thanked him, smiling. "Let's hope there's never another one. Getting shot; not fun."

"Pulling bullets out of open wounds," Steve added. "Not fun."

"Not even getting to go on the mission," Tony pointed out. "Even less fun."

"You'd rather get shot than stay at home?" Carter asked, chuckling.

"No bullet can penetrate my armour," Tony bragged, smirking.

"No bullet can penetrate your ego," Steve said, only half joking.

"You wanna go, old man?"

"Oh, stop it," Carter bit out, before Steve had a chance to reply. "You two are worse than children."

"They are children," came a voice from the doorway, all three of them turning to face Natasha.

"If it isn't my favourite kind of spider coming to play," Tony drawled as Natasha walked over to them, high heels clicking with every step.

"If it isn't my favourite kind of genius; about to leave," Natasha replied, waving him off as he growled playfully at her. "Carter," she then said, softening her tone. "Can we talk?"

"Y-yeah," Carter stuttered, taken back. "Of course. Just let me…clean up a bit." Natasha nodded with a smile, Carter running her hands through her hair, wincing at the sweatiness of it. She pat her face down with a towel, unwound her bandages and chugged down a bottle of water, before packing up her gym bag and following Natasha out of the gym. As she went, Steve gave her an encouraging smile, whereas Tony drew a finger across his neck, grimacing. Carter held up her middle finger at him, scowling, her heart already fluttering nervously.

"I know this seems sudden," Natasha spoke up as they walked down the corridor together. "But I've been wanting to talk with you for a while now."

"Is it…about Clint?" Carter asked hesitantly.

"No," Natasha replied, shaking her head. "Though I'm a little surprised he told you about us."

"I had sort of…suspected," Carter admitted. "He didn't really say much when I asked him, just that it was when you first met, and it was a long time ago."

"Did he tell you I was a bad guy?"

"Yeah," Carter replied. "He said you…uh, seduced him."

"I'm not proud of it," Natasha said quietly. "My job at the time…who I was at the time…but things change. I've changed." They reached a door, Natasha holding it open for Carter to slip inside. It was Natasha's bedroom, or Carter assumed so at least. She sat down on the couch, watching as Natasha leaned against the nearby desk, clearly thinking.

"So…" Carter eventually spoke up. "What is you want to talk about?"