Hi guys!

Firstly, I apologise most profoundly to Snoweylily, who kindly pointed out to me that I made the shocking mistake of misspelling Steve Roger's name. The mistake had been fixed and I hope I am forgiven. Am I? :-P

Thanks to lais1993, HaileyBird and ShortMonester for following, and to Snoweylily and 08bdovea for their very helpful reviews.

They do mean alot, so thanks guys!

A quarter of an hour later, Natasha and I were sitting on the kitchen worktop eating scrambled eggs on toast. Neither of us spoke for a while, too hungry to be bothered with conversation. I bit into my third slice of toast when it occurred to me that maybe she waiting for me to speak. "So...," I trailed off. Natasha looked up at me expectantly. "What's your story?"

"What?"

"As in, who are you?"

She looked at me like I was mental. I rephrased my question. "I spent two hours telling you about my life, and where I came from, now it's your turn." I noticed the expression on her face plainly said that she did not want to revisit her past. "The less painful bits." I added. She looked up, surprised. I shrugged. "I've always found it easy to read people."

So she told me. I could tell that she was heavily editing as she went along, but I didn't push it. She told me about her work as a Soviet spy, how she got on SHIELDS radar as a dangerous assassin, and how Clint was sent to kill her but instead he saved her and convinced the Director that she could be trained as an agent, like he was. Her tone softened as she talked about him and I hid a smile.

When she finished telling me about the training, I said cheekily, "I betcha I could take you." I laughed but Natasha smiled and stood up, taking my plate and putting hers and mine in the sink. "Alright," she said. "Stand up."

My grin froze. "Tash, I-I was only j-joking," I stammered.

She smiled wider, "Oh, so you're going to back down, are you? After setting the challenge? Like a coward?"

She knew exactly which buttons to press, but that didn't stop me from jumping off the worktop. "I'm not going to fight you, Natasha." I said quietly. She grinned. "This is going to be short then."

Without any warning she charged at me and tried to whack my shoulder blade as she passed, but I dropped to the floor and rolled over before jumping up again. She spun around to face me and grinned. "You're fast," she said. "That was just the warm up." She stepped forward lightly before aiming a punch at my stomach. I blocked it with my forearm, caught her arm and twisted it behind her back before quickly letting go. She spun around again. I held my hands up around my face and torso protectively, before she attacked again.

My marshal arts teacher always said that I had this sixth sense in that I could tell what move my opponent was going to make before they knew themselves. It comes in handy, as you can imagine. I found it easier than most also to spot weaknesses and holes in attackers, which is also quite helpful.

But, to be fair to Natasha, she was very difficult to spot. The way she held herself and the way she attack showed no weaknesses and no opportunities to take her down. But I didn't want to take her down. And Natasha quickly realised this when I dodged another hit.

"You're not fighting back," she said, dropping her hands. I dropped mine.

"I don't have a reason to." I replied.

She laughed at that. "Are you kidding? I just attacked you. Several times."

"Tasha, you have been nothing but a friend to me in this box," I gestured the four walls, "and you have no idea how much that means to me. I can't and won't fight you because I don't want to hurt you."

She smiled. "I'm an ex-assassin. You'd find it hard to hurt me, Chrissie."

I grimaced. "You'd be surprised."

"Surprise me then."

I sighed, before folding my arms. "No."

"Pretend I'm Tony then." Her hand flew to her mouth as soon as she said his name, and I could tell she wished she hadn't said anything. I didn't care. I couldn't help it. As soon as his name left her lips, my blood burned with anger and my body tensed. My eyes narrowed and I ran at Natasha, who prepared herself, but even she couldn't stop me. I viciously punched her stomach and she cried out in surprise. While she was distracted, I twisted my ankle around hers and pulled and she fell straight onto her back with a thump.

My eyes were burning. I was surprised to find that they were tears. I shook my head, wiping the tears away, only then realising what I had done. I gasped in horror and looked down at Natasha, who was eyeing me anxiously. I immediately grabbed her hand and helped her up, even though she would have managed perfectly fine by herself. "I'm so, so, so, so sorry Tasha!" I said in a rush. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it, I-"

"Chrissie," Natasha cut me off, holding up a hand. "If you are going to feel anything for what you just did, don't feel angry, feel proud. Not many people can floor me like that, that fast, if they can at all."

"I'm so sorry," I said again.

"Don't be, that was excellent," she said, grinning at me.

"It was indeed." A voice said from behind us and we both turned. A tall dark skinned man in a black trench coat and eye patch was walking towards us.

"Director Fury." Natasha's tone was respectful, but her eyes were angry. "I had no idea you were coming to the Avenger Tower today."

So that's where we were. Hmm. I was still in New York. Interesting.

Natasha had moved slightly ahead of me as she was talking, as if she was trying to protect me. Why? I wondered.

The tall man ignored her and held out his hand to me. "I am Director Nick Fury, head of S.H.I.E.L.D."

So this was the man that had wanted Natasha dead. I didn't take his hand and stayed silent. Natasha cleared her throat awkwardly and I looked up at her. She was shaking her head. I got the message but I folded my arms stubbornly. "What do you want from me?"

He dropped his hand. "We don't want anything from you, Miss Carter-"

"Bullshit. You wouldn't have me locked up in here if you didn't want me for something."

The Director cleared his throat at my language. "At S.H.I.E.L.D., we monitor potential threats, and-"

"Threats?" I interrupted again, it was clearly pissing him off but I really didn't care. "So I'm a threat now? Listen, I don't know what lies Stark has been telling you, but that's all they are. Lies. I-"

"What," Fury cut in, "does Tony Stark have to do with this?"

"He bullied her bad when they were kids." Natasha filled in quietly.

Fury turned to her, "Thank you, Agent Romanoff. Now, as I was saying, we monitor potential threats, which we have come to the conclusion that you are not, but given your history-"

"With Stark?" I said incredulously.

"No, with Stephen and Margaret Cotter."

I was surprised to hear my parent's real names come out of his mouth. "You knew my parents." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," he said, "they were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and they became the targets of a secret terrorist group, who we believe is still at large. They were granted witness protection when you were born-"

"Which explains why we had to move around so much." I finished for him, talking more to myself now than to him. It made sense. Up until I was nine, I had gone through 25 different names, excluding my name now and my birth name. My parents would never tell me why, but I understood now, they were protecting me from the truth.

"Exactly," Fury said, "But we are unsure if they have learned of your existence yet, or if they are just bidding their time, so for your own safety we are going to hold you here until the threat has passed."

"No way," I told him. "No way in hell are you keeping me here, locked up. I have rights. If I can work in Starbucks in one of the biggest cities in the world I think I can handle a couple of terrorists."

"I was hoping you would say that," Fury smiled happily, "Because I have another option."

I raised my eyebrows. "Which is?"

He grinned. "Miss Carter, how would you like to become one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes?"

Thanks for reading, see y'all later!

-kates the firework