Takes place during Iron Man 2. Just before we first get introduced to Natasha. Natasha is anything but pleased by her new assignment. And not for obvious reasons.
She's frustrated. Hell, she's more than frustrated. Fury just informed her that she would be going undercover as Tony Stark's new assistant. Well, the assistant of his assistant To keep an eye on this so-called new superhero. Natasha desperately tried to get out of it but Fury ended the discussion fairly quickly and she hates him for it.
It's late at night when she finally makes it back to her small apartment. Natasha doesn't even bother to turn on the lights and walks straight to her bedroom. She sighs as she lets herself fall back on her bed. She presses the heels of her hands against her eyes and groans at the prospect of having to go to New York and pretend to be someone she's not. She's not girly or feminine, she doesn't do dresses and heels. She hates it when she has to use her body to make a man like her. Especially when that man is Tony Stark. A man who is known for sleeping with every woman who throws herself at his feet. A man who is more in love with himself than anything else in this world. A man who thinks he can buy anything with his money. Natasha feels not only angry and frustrated but also strangely emotional. She doesn't know why. Feeling like she needs to talk to her only friend she grabs her phone and searches for him in her contact. Only to hesitate to press the call button. He'll think you're overreacting, her mind whispers to her. He'll tell you to stop whining and hang up the phone, the voice in her head screams at her. But she feels that he'll talk it through with her. She's known Clint long enough that he'll never judge her. If only her stupid mind, her self doubt would shut the fuck up. Ignoring the voices in her head she presses the green call button and hopes he'll pick up. She doesn't have to wait long.
'Hey, Nat', Clint answers after the second ring. She smiles a little at her nickname.
'Hey', she says softly, already feeling better at hearing his voice.
'You okay?' this is usually the second thing he says to her. Always a little afraid someone hurt her.
'I'm good, just pissed off', she scoots back on her bed and lies down against her pillows.
'Who's the lucky guy?' she can hear him smile when he says this. She lets out a breathy laugh.
'Fury. He's going to send me to New York', she explains to him, 'undercover mission at the Stark tower'.
'And your pissed because…', he knows he has to pull the reason why she's so worked up over this out of her.
'I'm gonna have to be the assistant of his assistant. Dresses, heels, parties… that kind of shit', Natasha closes her eyes as she hear Clint chuckle.
'Not your style, huh', he states.
'You know it's not', she says softly. She feels vulnerable and her self doubt keeps getting the better of her. She can hear Clint sigh softly and he stays quiet for a few seconds. Giving her time to process her thoughts.
'What's got you so worked up?' Clint asks her. She stays quiet, afraid to say why this is really bothering her so much 'Tasha?'
'I don't like being used', she whispers and lays a hand over her eyes. He doesn't reply, knows that it'll give her the space she needs to talk, 'I don't do the whole dressing up thing, you know how much I hate that. You know how much I hate being objectified. Especially when I know that Tony Stark will only like me because of how I look', she finishes with a sigh.
'And…?' Clint asks as she stays silent.
'What do you mean and? Isn't that enough?', the annoyance is back in her voice.
'Nat, you've done that a thousand times. Never bothered you this much before'. She knows he's right. She hates it when he's right. 'You can tell me anything, you know that'.
'I know', she sighs, 'it just…', her voice trails off again.
'It's okay, Nat. You're starting to worry me here', he is getting worried and getting nervous about what she'll tell him. If she dares to tell him at all.
'It reminds me of the Red Room', she finally whispers, 'of the jobs I had to do. They were a lot like this one only it wasn't just making men like me or feel attracted to me'.
'Tasha', the way he says her name makes the rest of her walls fall down.
'They made me go all the way, Clint. I was just seventeen when the Red Room sent me on a job for a month. The men I was supposed to spy on got to use me as their personal prostitute', she has shivers running down her spine thinking about that particular mission. That mission is still one she has nightmares of. The Red Room made sure it wouldn't be her first time as she went on that mission. It didn't make a difference for Natasha. She remembers the pain. She remembers their faces. She remembers how hard she had to fight to stay in her role during all those times she was screaming and crying on the inside because of the pain and trauma.
'Fuck, Nat', she can practically see him running his hand over his face. They both stay silent for a while. Caught up in their own thoughts and listening to the other breath.
'I just don't want to be that girl again', Natasha finally breaks the silence.
'At least tell me you killed the bastards', Clint whispers back.
'I did. A couple years later, after I escaped from the Red Room'.
'That's my girl', he says with a relieved sigh, 'listen, Nat. I'm sure it won't come to that, okay. Fury may be a jerk but he'll pull you out as soon as Stark crosses a line', his reassuring voice gives her some confidence about her upcoming job.
'I know. And if he doesn't, Stark is a dead man before he can even think about putting his suit on', she finishes to lighten the mood. Clint laughs a little at that.
'Now you sound like you', he says softly. This brings a smile to her face as she feels a little better. 'Feel a bit better?'
'Yeah, thanks', she sighs deeply, finally relaxing a little bit.
'Anytime. You can always call me if you need to talk, don't doubt that for a second', Clint knows her. He knows how much internal conflict it takes for her to finally make the call. He wishes he could take that away from her.
'Thank you, Clint', Clint knows that she's not just thanking him for the talk they just had. She's thanking him for being her friend. Her best friend. For being the one person in her life she can always turn to.
'You good? You think you can sleep?' he asks, still with an edge of worry in his voice.
'I'll be fine', she knows the nightmares will be worse tonight. And he knows she'll never admit to saying she's anxious of the night to come. So they both leave it at that.
'Sleep tight, Nat', Clints softly says.
'You too, Clint', she replies just as softly. She waits a few more seconds before taking the phone from her ear and presses the end call button.