Integration.

Florence Lilya Romanova-Barnes (alias Preying Mantis) was not your typical six year old girl. For instance - she knew sixteen ways to subdue a person and only ten of those involved killing them. Behind her overly cherubic gaze, she was fast approaching a level of skill that few adults ever possessed. Her mother despaired that she would never have a happy childhood and was slowly attempting to give her one - six year old little girls should not - on the whole - know how to kill their teachers. Florence herself did not want a childhood - she had never had one to begin with.

Despite her protests and tantrums (In some ways, she was still your typical six year old) she was given her marching orders and enrolled within a prestigious all-girls school in New York City.

Her mother had certainly won that battle - but not the war.

'Your face will get stuck that way,' Natasha chided as she drove effortlessly through the crowded streets in the undercover SUV. The radio chattered on with gridlocks, roadworks and unexpected closures in the background and around those were S.H.I.E.L.D reports filtering in.

Florence grumbled from the passenger side, kicking her schoolbag. 'I don't know why I need to be "educated", I have an intellect that surpasses my so called "peers".'

'This isn't about that.' Natasha reminded her. 'It's about you getting to experience everything that other six year olds do.'

Florence huffed and let it drag out as the car's radio filled the silence. Natasha pulled out onto a side-street and towards an impressive pair of wrought iron gates, still in the laden silence. The car was thrown in park and the red-head turned to her passenger. 'Don't break your classmate's fingers today.' She warned.

'She called me a ginger. She deserved it.'

Natasha sighed - Florence couldn't help but notice the fact she looked almost sad as she contemplated that. 'I know.' She said at last. 'Just...try to have fun. Make friends.'

Friends?

'You've been at this school for a few month now, you've never mentioned any friends.' Natasha turned to look at her - still wearing the sad mask.

'I don't need friends.' She replied in a bored voice. 'I don't need school.'

From outside of the car, a bell rang. With a long suffering sigh of inevitability, Florence picked up her schoolbag and gave one last glare to Natasha before she popped the door and got out. Kids were streaming left and right for the entrance but she waited, perfectly still, until the black undercover car had driven away.

She didn't even attempt to head towards the doors. Instead, she made her way out of the school and down the road.

Preying Mantis had better things to do than sit and listen to her emotionally overwrought classmates sing the colours of the rainbow and do simple addition. She had training to do. If Natasha wouldn't train her - and her father was out of country doing something insane - then she would train herself.

She'd barely made it three blocks before a familiar black SUV rolled up alongside. The window wound down, giving her a textbook example of her mother's unhappy face. For just a second, she thought about demanding to know how Natasha had known she wasn't learning about "our friend the Owl!" right this minute - when Natasha showed her the app on her phone.

She'd put a tracker on her. And Florence hadn't noticed at all. Where? It couldn't be in the backpack. She could have ditched the backpack at any point. Same with the jacket. The most logical place would then be her shoes. Sneaky.

If Natasha could look any more disappointed, she possibly would have. 'Get in the car, Florence.'

She calculated the likelihood of screaming "stranger danger" going in her favour and concluded that it wouldn't even be worth the attention. Slouching the entire way, she threw the bag into the car and got in.

'Why aren't you at school?' Natasha demanded coolly.

'Why aren't you at work?' She countered with an equally bored face.

'Florence Romanova-Barnes-' Natasha warned in an irritated voice but paused as though contemplating the seriousness of her words next. 'I know this isn't what you wanted -'

'What I've wanted is not something you seem to care about.'

Natasha's eyes narrowed. 'You are just a child-'

'I'm better than every one of those kids! They can't even say the word "amble" without being coached!' The little girl replied. 'I have better things to do than sit there and be dumbed down to the point of suicide by boredom!' She exploded angrily. 'I am what I am - a weapon. An assassin.'

'Really?' Natasha deadpanned.

'Yes.' She hissed angrily.

'I see.' Natasha mused. 'This is because I refuse to let you get involved with this life, isn't it?'

'I've always been involved.' She returned in irritation. 'It's why I was made. What I was made for.'

'You're six.'

'I know what choice I'm making.'

'No,' Natasha sighed. 'You don't.' She sat back against the leather seat and frowned. 'How about we make a deal?'

'A…deal?' Florence sounded hopeful - but suspicious. Her mother almost exclusively never offered deals or bargains of any kind. It was her way or the highway.

'If you agree - the subject of extra-curricular activities may just open up again.'

Florence perked up. Was she finally coming to the decision that normality was one hurdle they couldn't get over? Was she actually agreeing to continue Florence's training under her own supervision?

'What's the catch?' She demanded suspiciously.

'The catch is that you actively attend and participate in school.' Natasha replied. 'They're non-negotiable terms.'

'Average grades and attendance?'

'Yes.'

'And training will resume?' She persisted.

'Yes.' She didn't sound particularly happy about it, but she recognised that forcing the issue would only lead to her hiding what she was doing.

They stared at each other - Mantis willing herself to find one hint of deceit in Natasha's face. Eventually she accepted that Natasha was, perhaps, telling the truth.

'Do we have a deal?'

'Absolutely.'

'You're late for class, then.'

The door was open and Florence was gone in seconds. Natasha sat in the car and waited until her tracker informed her that her daughter was in the school building before she pulled away.

A/N: I'm not going to pretend that this is any good but someone once suggested what would it be like if Mantis went to school - And this happened. Got a couple more lined up and some lovely reviewers have also chipped in their own ideas, which I'll be working on very soon.