Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Monday: Superior Officer
Natasha Romanoff, Melinda May, and Skye
She had been on both sides of the training. She had trained and been trained. Her superior officer had been the agent who'd found her- Clint- and she had been the superior officer to some young agent who was much to serious for a boy of his age. They kept telling her that being a woman, she was at a disadvantage, but she'd been a spy before she'd joined SHIELD. She knew she could work alone far better than either of her S.O. and her J.O., who both seemed to need people ordering them around. She was well motivated on her own.
So, to see her J.O. training his own J.O. at the Hub, the tiny slip of a girl beating him with words instead of her moves.
"I told you before. I'm a proper Southern girl. You'll make me untidy." The girl spoke with a heavy Alabaman accent. The look on his face was fun, a mix between annoyed and constipated, the same look Clint would get whenever she used to make some smartass comment.
"She's not even from the South," a voice said, Melinda May appearing beside her.
"I heard you were back in the field."
May blinked. "I just fly the plane."
Natasha nodded to the couple in the training room as they watched threw the glass. "Has she managed to get the stick out of his ass?"
"Partially."
"Skye, stop fooling around."
"Aw, come on, Mr. Fun Machine, can't we do something with less… I don't know, hitting? I could hack into the NSA and we could watch whatever they're watching at the moment. It'd be fun…"
"Skye."
"Killjoy."
R&R