Once they reached SHIELD, Natalia was escorted into a room and strapped to a huge machine- presumably a lie detector. Little did they know that she had long since been trained to handle such equipment. Nick Fury then entered the room. They had never met before, but she had heard of his name and his various achievements. He put a clear vial of liquid on the table and moved to sit across from her. 'Drink,' he ordered.

'What is that?'

'A truth serum.'

As if that was going to work on her. The Treatments had long since made her immune to many substances, including all known 'truth serums'. The KGB had made sure of that. And so she reached forward for the bottle, drained it, and began to speak. This was an opportunity for her to finally complete the mission she had given herself, for her to finally get them to kill her.

She told him how she was sent by the KGB to infiltrate SHIELD and retain information about its projects. She told him how she was to assassinate him after she had completed her mission. The lie detector blipped on steadily. Not even her eyelid flickered. Fury looked on at her, impassive. Halfway through, he reached forward and unplugged the lie detector. Then he raised his hand at her, a signal for her to stop talking. She complied.

'You are an amazing liar. You also have one hell of a death wish,' he stated.

She studied him, silent, confused.

'That was no truth serum, just flavoured water.'

Oh.

They proceeded to have a talk that lasted for a long, long time. She liked him. She didn't trust him, of course, but she approved of what he hoped to achieve. Maybe, just maybe, working for SHIELD would differ from working with the KGB. Maybe one day, she would truly be able to clear her ledger.

Clint Barton was assigned to be her supervisor as she breezed through SHIELD's mandatory tests within a week's time. He regularly sparred with her and went through SHIELD protocol with her. She liked him. He was one of the very few men she knew who were willing to be around her not because he hoped to get in bed with her one day, but because he genuinely wanted to know her. He cared about her. He'd insist on certain things, such as her getting proper food for meals, but he also respected her boundaries and refrained from nosing around. On some occasions, it was almost as if he understood her, as if he'd once lived a similar life. She had tried to find out more about his past. Hacking into the SHIELD database was easy. Yet when she had located Clint Barton's file and opened it, a pre- programmed note popped up:

Agent Romanoff,

I believe that Agent Barton would appreciate it if you were to ask him directly instead.

Nick Fury

She had been given the option to continue looking through the file, yet she chose not to. He had respected her privacy ever since they met, and she saw no reason to violate his. As the days passed by, his stern demeanour gave way to a more playful, approachable one, followed by a barrage of bad puns (she was the only one he was willing to show that side of him to). She, in turn, became less hostile, and her dark humour became a constant source of entertainment for him.

One day, they were having dinner in the canteen when a food fight amongst a number of new agents broke out in the middle of the room. A number of other agents gradually joint in, until at one point even senior agents such as Coulson and May were subtly flicking peas at each other. Natasha (Barton was the one who decided to 'Americanize' her name, and she didn't mind much) smiled wistfully at them. She envied them for how happy they were.

Then a splotch of mashed potato landed on her cheek. She spun around, and there was Barton, a devilish smirk on his face, a shadow of uncertainty in his eyes. She realised that he wasn't sure if she was going to take it well. And so she laughed, flicking her hair back with one hand as she reached for her spaghetti with her other, 'You are so dead, Barton.'

That night was the best night of her life. It was a horrendous waste of good food, but then she had never had so much fun before.

She easily passed the customary SHIELD tests with flying colours and was finally qualified to take on proper missions, with Clint Barton as her partner. She had never worked with a partner before. Now that was going to be interesting.

Her first mission came in the middle of the night, as insistent poking at her side woke her up from her sleep (she had long since associated SHIELD with safety, and gradually got around to letting her guard down when she slept. It helped with the nightmares.)

'Romanoff. Romanoff.'

'What the hell, Barton?' she grouched, refusing to open her eyes. 'It's two in the morning.' She didn't need a clock to know the time.

'Come on, Romanoff. Wakey wakey.'

She reluctantly opened one eye.

'Roman- on,' he chuckled at his own joke. 'You get it? Roman- off, Roman- on.'

She slipped out a knife from below her pillow, pointing in menacingly at his private parts, 'Give me one good reason why I shouldn't chop your dick off, Barton.'

'Because it's nice and I like it,' his tone then changed to a more formal one, 'You're getting your first SHIELD mission, Romanoff. Pack a bag, bring a formal dress, and meet me in the hangar in five minutes.'

She pulled herself up, 'Aye aye, captain.'

They met three minutes later in the hangar. He set the helicarrier on autopilot and moved to hand her the file regarding the mission. The mission was to retrieve a ballerina with unknown superpowers during her performance the coming night and bring her back to base. Natasha pushed down the sense of dread and fear as she noted the word 'ballet', as she closed the file and handed it back to Barton with steady hands. She was certain that, despite her past, she would be able to handle this mission properly.