A/N Hello dear readers. I'm very sorry it took me so long to update; after handing in my bachelor thesis (fingers crossed!) I couldn't stand sitting at the computer even for five minutes (pulled a whole 36 hours writing marathon... don't do that. Really. Don't do that) and when I wanted to upload the new chapter yesterday, the site gave me some error. Received the same error today, but I hope I've found a way to work around it. So enjoy this week's instalment and have a great Sunday!
DarylDixon'sLover: Thank you very much :)
Maria.Z.A: Well, personal experience tells me there are different kinds of fathers but I'm sure Fury belongs to the category you described. And I'm glad you're sticking around until the very end ;)
AeslinnArt: Thank you a lot! You know, even if some chapters suggest otherwise, I do enjoy a nice happy ending if it fits the rest of the story. So of course the band has to come back together at the very end :)
Invader Johnny: I doubt she ever really thought inside the box, to be honest.
Title: In the Storm (#96)
Characters: Natasha, Clint, Coulson
Word count: ~2507
Natasha was in the gym busy hitting a dummy with batons. After she saw Bobbi Morse putting them to good use, she'd wanted to try it to, persuading the guys from tech to make her a pair with just the right weight and balance to feel like an extension of her arm. Clint leaned against the wall near the door, watching her with a smile while she let a flurry of hits rain down on the poor dummy. Though he'd never doubted her since he'd brought her in it was nice to see she gave none of the other agents any reason to doubt her. Some of them didn't need a reason but there were people like Morse and May who made sure Natasha didn't spend every lunch alone when he was out and about.
Finally she deemed him worthy her attention; Clint didn't believe even for a second that she hadn't noticed him entering. "What is it? Another test? Or am I late for your silly movie night, Barton?" A smirk played her lips. Then Natasha put the batons back in their little box to store them in the armoury adjacent to the gym.
Clint shook his head. "No test. Fury wants to talk with you. I'm supposed to bring you to him. And my movie night isn't silly, it's bonding."
"What about Coulson?" Natasha asked, completely ignoring him defending his movie nights. She was grateful he'd spared her life but that didn't mean they were supposed to become best buddies. He'd have to earn her trust, her blind trust, first and Natasha supposed he didn't trust her entirely either.
"What? You don't want me to be the one to order you around?" Clint grinned and threw a towel at her. "Come one, better not let Fury be waiting. And if you stink like a wet dog, maybe he'll cut himself short for once."
"This about STRIKE Team Delta?" Natasha dried the sweat off her face and fell in step beside him.
Clint shrugged. "Since I'm wanted too, I guess so. Or they finally want to roast me for bringing you in and make you watch."
Natasha shook her head in earnest. "Fury doesn't seem the type of guy for that kind of punishment. And I thought your last assignments were meant to punish you."
"They were, trust me. I don't think Coulson would give me the most boring stuff for months otherwise. Stuff with more paperwork than hours in the field. Just in case we are starting Delta, then you are in charge of paperwork. You're the younger agent. It's your job by default."
Natasha simply rolled her eyes and kept her pace to match his. She wondered whether Fury wanting to see her meant she'd finally be cleared for field work. Officially she wasn't supposed to know any details about Delta, but agents tend to gossip and Natasha was hardly to blame when they did so while she sat in hearing range. Delta was supposed to become SHIELDs special unit, send out to destroy threats and gain or regain intelligence. Plus, extraction plans were said to be an exception. Should they be caught, SHIELD would deny any relations. Somehow, that reminded Natasha strongly of the Red Room, but she also enjoyed a challenge. Her only worry was her working together with Barton. She simply didn't do teamwork, never learned how to. Besides, Barton was an unbelievable smartass; he'd drive her up the walls in no time and Natasha was sure that if she shot him, she'd get into some trouble. Even if her reason was justified…
"What're you thinking?" Barton asked with a raised eyebrow.
Natasha allowed herself a tiny smile. "Nothing in particular."
~#~#~#~#~#~
Natasha stood with her bag ready at the quinjet that was supposed to bring Barton and her to their first assignment. Barton, of course, hadn't shown up yet which left both the pilot and Natasha quite impatient, only was the former used to it and the latter dissembled.
"Agent Romanoff."
Natasha turned to see Coulson approaching. She'd learned to respect that man, knowing that there was little more important to him than Barton. Aside from that, he was now officially her handler, supposed to stay in contact during their missions. Again, Natasha wasn't used to teamwork and surely not to having a voice in her ear that told her what to do. She looked at him expectantly, her face a blank sheet of paper.
"I am glad that Clint's trust in you seems justified," Coulson began. "If Director Fury wouldn't believe you honestly defected and weren't a danger for this organization, you wouldn't go on this mission. But take this as a warning: if your actions on this mission endanger Clint, I will personally request you to be brought to the Fridge. There won't be a second chance. Do you copy, Agent?"
"Yes," Natasha nodded curtly. She wasn't necessarily surprised by Coulson's words.
Coulson nodded, worry flickering over his face for a second. "I'm just asking you to keep his back as he'll keep yours."
"I understand, Sir."
"Good. And, Romanoff? Make sure both of you get back safe. Not the mission is first priority but the lives of the both of you. Contact me once you're in the safehouse." With that Coulson turned around and left the hangar, passing Clint who just entered with a nod and a friendly clasp on the shoulder. A small part of Natasha wanted that kind of trust and partnership, of friendship, but the bigger part of herself knew that it would be a long way before she was anything else than Barton's stray and former killer of SHIELD agents.
"Everything alright?" Barton asked and looked her over with a frown. "No need to be nervous, it's just a small mission. Just to make sure we're able to work together without killing each other."
"You mean to make sure I won't kill you in your sleep," Natasha retorted and boarded the quinjet just to throw her bag in some corner and take a seat at the left wall.
Barton followed her inside and went to the pilot to greet him and exchange a few words too quiet for Natasha to hear. Then he put his bag in a locker and picked up Natasha's to do the same. After a shot time of debating silently, he opened his locker again and pulled out a bag of cookies which he opened while walking over to her and claiming the seat beside her.
"Want some?" he offered, holding the open bag so she could easily grab some. When Natasha didn't react but continued to stare at the opposite wall, Barton sighed. "Look, I get it. You wanna belong and-
"I don't want to belong," Natasha interrupted without looking at him. "I've been on my own long enough, I don't need to belong. It's a weakness. I'd rather work alone."
"Well, honey, it's not all cakes and ale," Barton answered good-naturedly, munching away on his cookies. "Is this about something Coulson said to you? He can be kind of protecting, you know? He was the one bringing me into SHIELD back then."
"I'm sure you bonded greatly over sharing memories from the academy." Natasha knew there were three academies of SHIELD, each specialising in a certain field: Communications, Operations and Science. Not that she was allowed to visit any of those or even know where they were located but well… agents gossiped.
Barton snorted and almost choked on his cookie. "Yeah, sure. Never been there. Besides, Coulson was a Communications guy; I'm not bad at all this hacking and data stuff, but I would have died there. They say Communications is the easiest one to enter but my grades wouldn't have been good enough even for them."
Natasha was curious enough to want to know how Barton got into SHIELD if not over by the academy but she still wanted to have her peace. And although she didn't know Barton quite that long she knew he was one to chatter if feeling encouraged. Seemingly, he felt so right now.
"Got here quite similarly to you," he continued thoughtfully. "Worked as contract killer for nearly two years and killed enough to call SHIELD upon me. Coulson was the one recruiting me instead of killing me and I accepted. I wanted to change my life. More importantly, I wanted to change who I was. I worked contracts because I didn't know what else to do back then. Retrospectively, if I hadn't used arrow and bow back then as my calling card, I wouldn't be here right now. So I guess it was good for something."
"Where did you learn to shoot a bow?" Natasha asked despite her mood. She told herself she needed to know everything possible about Barton to be prepared to work with him. Of course she wasn't allowed to see his file yet, though he more than probably read everything there was to read about her.
Barton smiled a little, happy at being successful to make her talk. "In the circus."
"You know, if you start lying to me you can just shut up. I'm not in the mood for fairy tales."
"I'm not lying. I joined a circus after I ran from the orphanage. God, that was an eternity ago." A sad smile played his lips for a moment. "There I earned my name, The Amazing Hawkeye. In the circus, not the orphanage. Phil saved my when he refused to kill me. I bet Fury roasted his ass afterwards. And trust me, I was more trouble than you've been so far."
"Even with me almost killing this instructor?"
"Even with that. So yeah, he's a bit protective. But I know he'll care for you as much someday. Coulson's just that type of guy to care deeply for his agents. He just needs time. Me refusing to follow the kill order got me into some trouble and he kinda sees you as the reason for the trouble, not my decision. But he'll get over it."
~#~#~#~#~#~
If Natasha had learned one thing during her first mission, then that easy missions never stayed easy for long. There was always some unknown variable, some missing information. Just like the fact that their target wasn't into redheads because his evil ex-wife had had red hair. One thing led to another and suddenly Natasha found herself with Barton running down corridor after corridor, she only in a tight cocktail dress she had ripped one side open to be able to move properly and a horde of guards behind them firing their weapons. Suddenly, Barton slumped down, blood blossoming from a wound to his leg. Natasha dragged him through the nearest door, let him drop unceremoniously, slammed the door shut and barricaded it with a desk. It wouldn't hold forever, but it'd buy them some time.
Natasha knelt next to Barton and slit open his trousers to get a look on his wound. "Still stuck in there," she murmured. "I can't get it out now, you'd probably bleed out." Instead, she worked on opening his belt to use it to stop the bleeding.
Barton reached for his pocket, his face unusually pale. "Here," he said, pressing a flash drive into her hands. "Take that. Fury was wrong, this guys a bigger fish than we thought. I downloaded as much as I could before they caught me, but it should be enough to justify another mission. This has to get to Fury."
"Then drop it off yourself," Natasha answered, pushing the flash drive back to him. "Laura and Coulson hate me already, I won't give them any more reason and leave you here."
"Natasha, we lost contact with Phil half a day ago; we can't let him know we need extraction if we don't find a phone. And with that little army camping in front of our door, I doubt we have the time to call even if we find one. I'll be fine."
"Stuff it." Natasha tied down his belt roughly and checked her gun; not much ammunition left. Outside the door she could hear the guards lining up, some already slamming into the door to open it. There wasn't much time left. Quickly she pulled Barton behind more desks to give them some cover. "Still able to fire?"
Barton at least was still fit enough to look offended. "I'm Hawkeye," he stressed. "The day I can't fire gun or bow anymore is the day I'm dead."
"Then do your fucking job."
Barton huffed in amusement. "If I didn't know better I'd think you're worried about me."
"Dream on." According to the sounds of splintering wood the guards were close on breaking through. "You're ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
Finally, the door gave way. In the same moment the first guard stepped in, the windows behind them exploded in a shower of broken glass when the quinjet hovering behind them shot down the guards.
~#~#~#~#~#~
Natasha leant against the wall of the quinjet, her eyes trained on Barton whose wounds were treated near the ramp. She couldn't believe they'd come out there pretty much unscathed compared to how everything could have gone. As it seemed, when they'd lost contact with Coulson he'd been worried, considering it had presumably been a simple mission. So he'd worked Fury until he got permission to grab a quinjet, a pilot and a minor medical team to pick them up. Not a second to soon. Barton had given him the flash drive before the doctors had started working on him. While Natasha herself had some wounds to sport herself, she refused to let herself be treated before Barton; other than him she hadn't been shot and the knife wound – her more severe wound – wasn't too bad. She had gone longer with more.
"Mind if I start cleaning your wounds?" Coulson asked, holding some dabbers in one hand and a bottle of medical alcohol in the other.
Natasha shrugged wordlessly and lifted her shirt far enough for him to reach the knife wound.
"Clint told me what happened in the room. That you refused to leave him behind."
Again Natasha shrugged without effort but offered no explanation.
Coulson sighed. "I know the both of us had a rocky start and that it's mostly my fault. But I want you to know I'm grateful you kept his back."
"He got shot," Natasha reminded him. "That's hardly keeping his back."
Coulson chuckled mirthlessly. "Barton gets shot on roughly every third mission. What I mean is, you put his sake over the mission. I want to thank you for it. Guess it was a good decision to partner you."
Natasha blinked in surprise but otherwise didn't let on how touched she was by his words. That was as much appreciation as she could hope to get.
"Make sure he keeps quiet for a week or two, okay? We won't be keeping up the bedrest much longer."
We. Natasha nodded. "I'll do my best, Sir."
"I expect nothing else, Agent."
2. A/N Well, what do you think? I kind of liked the thought that the mistrust given Natasha fades a little when she protects one of the agency's best. And I hope the way I dealt with their mission was okay with you. I still try to finagle my way around the fighting scenes since I'm not sure how to depict it, so let me know what you think of it.
