Queer romance fanfics with OC/Reader Written by Non-Binary Autistic. I use GN pronouns for OC and limit description so to allow reader to assume that role as they see fit. Unedited. Mostly Fluff. No to Very minimal Smut. Thanks so much for reading :)
ao3 isn’t evidence of fandom excess. it’s evidence of cultural scarcity.
people don’t write thousands of pages because the original work failed. they write because it stopped too soon, or stopped short of itself.
for queer creators especially, ao3 functions as an extension of the text—
not commentary,
not correction,
but continuation.
a place where affection is allowed to elaborate. where implication is permitted to become structure. where worlds that were only gestured toward are given duration.
this is not derivative labor. it’s generative.
what’s sad is not that people make so much from so little.
what’s sad is how little they’re given to begin with.
queer fandoms can exist in excess because love keeps exceeding the limits of what is published.
because queerness, repeatedly underwritten, learned to build entire architectures out of whatever fragments were available. that isn’t desperation. it’s skill.
but it is a record—
quiet and cumulative—
of how often queer imagination has had to finish the work that culture declined to do.
Immediately upon your arrival at the Theta facility, it was clear that ‘dramatic’ may have been an understatement. You had expected big, but you certainly hadn't expected an entire, almost completely refurbished helicarrier. Lifeboats were replacing fighter jets on the flight deck as crews worked to load supplies and finish final repairs.
You were stationed on the bridge with Maria and about a half dozen other agents, running diagnostics and arranging the final personnel assignments. It was going to be a very small crew, but things were looking positive. Once the Avengers could provide a location, you would take off and hopefully make it in time to help or, at least, clear as many civilians from the inevitable line of fire Ultron had planned.
After several hours, all the systems were finally running over 90%, and the flight simulations were successful; all that was left now was to wait. Hopefully, between Stark and the rest of the team in Seoul, there would be enough information on Ultron's plans to move forward. Exhaustion was pulling at you, having barely slept since leaving the tower, so you took up space in one of the unused crew quarters and allowed yourself to rest.
The buzzing of your phone on the metal side table jolted you back to consciousness. Looking at the screen before answering, you saw that it was Clint calling, mentally noting that they must have finished the mission or he wouldn't have his phone, and you wondered why he would be calling you.
“Well, this is suspicious.”
“RJ. Look, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it took Nat.”
You bolted up in the bed and looked at the clock. Surprisingly, you had slept for several hours.
“Clint, it hasn't even been a day! And you're saying you- what—lost her?”
“Yeah, I know. Trust me, I didn't want to leave, but there wasn’t really a choice. I’m setting up here at the tower to monitor old channels and see if anything comes in. Thought I would check if you ever ended up moving forward on that system you were talking about?”
“Yeah,” you sighed, looking at the bracelet on your wrist. “Yeah, we did. It hasn't been activated yet, though, but she does have to be alive and conscious to do it.”
“You think she will consider it enough of an emergency to activate?”
“Probably likely, but it is supposed to be a last resort and you know her.”
“Yeah, stubborn. Keep each other updated then?”
“Yeah. I’ll get ready in case she does. Talk to you soon.”
After disconnecting, you lay back down in the bed for a moment and speak into the darkness. “Natasha, I swear to God, if you have literally been taken to a supervillain's lair and don't consider it enough to activate this damn thing…”
You slowly get up and make your way back to the bridge, coffee in hand, and sit at one of the computers away from the other Agents, waiting impatiently. You had started talking about setting up some kind of emergency system pretty early into confirming your relationship. Of course, you worried about each other during missions; it was inevitable. You trusted each other's abilities, but you knew that in the end, if either of you were in a legitimately life-threatening situation, you would want the other to know.
It had been more of a musing until your mission in Peru a few months prior. It really hadn't been that bad; through a series of unfortunate events, you had broken a collar bone, and it was several days until you could be extricated. The ordeal resulted in you being a full week overdue for your return home, which of course stressed out Natasha. So, it turned into setting more practical plans. She was certainly over-inflating the need, but considering it also meant you would have access to her, it didn't much bother you.
Now here you were, only two months into actually having the tech and hoping that she would use it as intended. You each carried a small cylindrical charm—hers on a necklace and yours on a bracelet—that, when activated, would transmit its location to the other. They remained completely dormant until triggered, so even if you wanted to find her, you would be unable until she did so. The minutes ticked by, and you nearly missed Maria approaching you from behind.
“Thought I told you to go rest, Jensen.”
“Yeah, well, that was hours ago, and I did—until I found out the Avengers fucking lost my girlfriend.”
“Lost her?”
“Apparently Ultron took her while they were in Seoul.”
“I see. And where are we with finding her?”
“Clint’s watching frequencies back at the tower, and this is my best bet.”
You lifted your wrist, and she raised an eyebrow in question.
“It’s basically an emergency tracking beacon. If she ever activates it, I should have her location within 10 minutes.”
“If she is with Ultron, then that will tell us exactly where we need to go.”
“Ideally, yes. So if she does, I’ll let you know.”
“Well, I’ll start getting everyone ready to move.” She placed a hand on your shoulder before heading back to the control station.
It was about 30 minutes later that the small red light finally clicked on, and you couldn't contain the declaration of enthusiasm that slipped from your lips loudly, causing the rest of the agents in the room to turn their gaze to you briefly. It took about 5 minutes to initialize the system on your phone, and you dialed Clint while it traced the signal.
“She did it. I’m tracing the signal now.”
“I just started getting something too—morse code.”
“I cannot believe that she waited until after having another system set up. I’m going to give her a piece of my…” The screen finally settled on a location. “Novi Grad, capital of Sokovia.”
“The morse code confirmed she's with Ultron. My tracking is still narrowing down in Eastern Europe, so that’s… this guy again? Gotta go. I’ll call you right back.”
Maria was already standing beside you when Clint disconnected, and she called Fury, who was across the facility, while you entered the coordinates into the Helicarrier's system. As the estimated flight time populated, you could not help but feel a twinge of disappointment; a Quinjet would make it in half the time, and asking Clint to take a detour to collect you didn’t seem reasonable given the circumstances. Maria’s facility-wide announcement to prepare for departure in 30 minutes brought you back to the moment at hand.
“I’ll go properly gear up,” you stated plainly, reattaching your bracelet and grabbing your phone before heading to exit the bridge. Maria turned to follow as you walked away.
“Seems a shame to just leave that Quinjet sitting outside when we leave.”
You looked at her with an eyebrow raised and crossed your arms.
“It does. But this carrier’s crew is already pretty bare-bones.”
“Yet volunteers aren't always reliable.”
You smiled with a nod at each other before continuing off into the hallway.
Barely 20 minutes later, you were in the air and on autopilot while you finished loading your weapons. Clint was on screen in the Avengers jet, while Rogers went over the plan and gave his speech. It had been a while since you properly suited up, seeing as most of your mission work was undercover, especially since the fall of SHIELD. So, you took a few moments to readjust to the material. Aside from the logo on the shoulder, simply showing a circle with soundwaves emanating from either side, the suit resembled the basic SHIELD-issued uniform with additional armor and silver accents. Metallic silver boots with side holsters came up just below the knee, with matching gauntlets up to your elbows. You synced the system to Natasha's GPS signal; her precise location now showed directly on the display screen at your left forearm.
You rendezvoused with Clint in the city a few minutes after arriving, as they began the evacuation, collecting two sets of comms and a bag with Natasha's backup weapons, assuming that Ultron would have stripped her of them when taken. Although eerily quiet, the tunnels were surprisingly easy to navigate as you followed the tracker, finally coming to a large cavern. Her pin was just around the corner, so you nonchalantly walked by, noting her in the cell from the corner of your eye, while finally speaking aloud.
“I’m just tracking a super hot spy who got kidnapped by a robotic supervillain, and she should be around here somewhere.”
You kept a straight face as you turned to look at Natasha standing behind the bars, shaking her head with that sideways smirk that always seems to ruin your ability to stay upset with her long.
“You came.”
“Of course I did, belle.” You smiled briefly and stepped closer to the bars, standing directly across from her, maintaining eye contact as you continued, “even though someone didn't activate their beacon until after they already had additional communication set up.”
She bit her bottom lip gently while tilting her head. “Detka...”
You let out a brief huff of amusement and shook your head as you took a small Semtex explosive from your belt. “You can ‘Detka’ me later. Your team is topside, trying to clear the line of fire.”
After it was applied to the metal lock you both stepped back, you activated the explosive, opening the door. Natasha stepped out of the cell and took your hand in hers.
“So, what's our play?”
“Well, if you still want to leave, love, then — now's the time that we disappear.”
She took a deep breath, looked into your eyes, and ran her other hand down the side of your face until it rested at your neck, thumb brushing along your jawline. “Je t’adore tellement (I adore you so much), moya lyubov’ — I don't deserve you.”
“Yes, you do,” you moved your hand to mirror hers. “You deserve the world.”
You pulled each other into a brief yet weighty kiss filled with reverence before she pulled back to rest her forehead against yours and replied softly,
“You are my world.”
You couldn't help but smile. “That's definitely the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”
She pulled back gently with a shrug, her hands resting on your biceps. “Yeah, but it is also true.”
“You are mine too, you know, Natasha. And you really do deserve it.”
You leaned into her, placing another fleeting kiss, then pulled the comms from your pocket. Holding it in your palm between you, she moved to take the earpiece with a sharp intake of breath.
“Time to go to work.”
“So, it seems. But to be clear, just because we are in Europe does not mean this counts as our vacation.”
Natasha geared up as you made your way back up to the surface, making it to the city just as the device activated and it began to divide. You fought drones through the streets until you eventually found Steve. You couldn't help but gawk at how incredibly attractive Natasha looked handling the shield as they took out the final drone in the area.
They began to discuss next moves, and Natasha turned back to you, reaching her hand out as they resigned to having little option, and your alarm went off just as your hands connected and you took a step closer.
“Where else am I going to get a view like this?”
“Well, hopefully it's about to get a lot better.”
As Fury’s voice came over comms and the Helicarrier began to rise into view, she turned to you and rolled her eyes. “Dramatic.” You simply smiled in return with a shrug as you all went to help evacuate the remaining citizens.
You had fully intended to remain with the crews as the Avengers were called to the city center to confront Ultron directly; however, it seemed that Natasha had other plans, as she all but pulled you towards the truck with her when you began to protest. Your comment about not bringing enough knives with you when Ultron assembled the remainder of its drones to attack did, however, earn you a brief laugh before the fight ensued.
You could confidently say you had never pushed yourself harder than you did in those few moments. Fighting alongside those who had been dubbed ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes,’ you labored to hold your own as you worked together against the robotic force.
A short time later, the mission was complete, and you found yourself standing back on the bridge of the Helicarrier, staring out the window and holding an ice pack to your shoulder as Natasha slipped beside you. She leaned in subtly so your shoulders were in contact as she spoke lightly.
“Have I mentioned lately that I kind of like it when you're all suited up?”
“Mmmm, you know, I don’t think you have.”
“Ah well, I do. And I must admit, Avenging looked awfully good on you — but you know I just thought of something that might make it even better.”
“And what would that be?”
“Like maybe some… blue accents?”
A snort of amusement escaped from you, and you rolled your eyes and pushed your shoulder into her gingerly. Then you turned to face her, hair tousled and a few dirt streaks across her face from the fight, yet still flawless, and the sparkle in her eye as she looked at you caused your heart to skip a beat and you bit your bottom lip slightly. You placed a hand flat against her ribs, the contact, as usual, hidden by the position of your bodies. Leaning forward so your lips were beside her ear, you noted her breath hitch every so slightly.
“Et là, je pensais que ce serait mieux si on allait simplement les enlever tous les deux.” (and here I was thinking it would be better if we just went and took them both off.)
You whispered, tossing her a wink before walking back towards the group, discussing the plans for aid as the carrier slowly made its way back to New York.
Your agreement with Fury following the fall of SHIELD was rather straightforward: he would offer you assignments, and you held the power to decide if you took them. He had stayed true to your requests, however; mostly reconnaissance, no sniper missions, and nothing that lasted longer than two months. As a result, over the past year, you had yet to refuse anything he had sent your way. Although the vast majority of the missions had been solo, there were times when you worked with others, mostly familiar faces from your time with SHIELD.
You had expected that there was some kind of proper organization going on, but whatever that was, you were not involved. You didn't mind it that way; the disconnection was freeing. You could simply focus on one mission at a time and not concern yourself with any of the bureaucracy that came with being part of a formal organization. Plus, of course, it meant that you got what you wanted—a chance to keep doing the work while having more time to spend with Natasha. Therefore, when you contacted Fury after leaving the tower and he requested you to report to a facility, it did not necessarily surprise you.
The former SSR station, now called The Playground, was well set up; it only housed a couple of dozen agents. However, they already had teams working to gather any information they could on Ultron’s whereabouts and possible plans by the time you arrived. You had been working almost nonstop since you landed, organizing logistics. Fury had a short list of non-active but trustworthy ex-agents to call in and supplies scattered across the country to coordinate. While taking a coffee break and catching up with Agent Morse, a sudden commotion broke out in the monitoring room across the hall; screens flashing with news footage of the Hulk’s frenzy in Johannesburg. It was almost an hour before Maria called in, and you stood with Fury as they debriefed. Although relieved to hear Natasha was okay, it certainly did not sound like any of them were in very good shape.
“Sorry Fury, but as you can guess; this means I’ll be taking my leave.”
“You think you know where they are going?”
“You could probably make a pretty good guess at that one too.”
“Sounds like they need a little pep talk. Wheels up in 60?”
“Okay.”
A few hours later, you arrived at the Bartons' farm, and as you walked up to the back porch, Clint was working on one of the railings.
“Thought you might show up.”
“Sorry I didn’t call ahead.”
“Yeah, well, neither did I. — She took a good hit, RJ, obviously pretty shaken up.”
“I assumed something not so great must have happened to set off Banner like that.”
“Yeah, that Maximoff kid did some kind of mind thing that got them all in a kind of trance.”
“She in our room?”
“Yeah, as far as I know.”
“OK, well, Fury came with me and is in the barn; wanted to know if you could get Tony in there for him.”
“Think I can manage that.”
With a nod and a quick touch to each other's shoulders, you made your way up to the guest room that had essentially become yours. Natasha was still in the shower when you arrived, so you simply removed your jacket, untucked your shirt and waited for her on the edge of the bed. She emerged a few minutes later, in a simple grey tank top and still drying her hair. A small but sorrowful smile formed as she saw you waiting, and you smiled softly, speaking first as she approached.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
“Seems like after-shower talks are kind of becoming a thing.”
“Yeah, I suppose they are.”
She sat to your left, thighs touching, and you took her hand in yours, entwining your fingers and placing a quick kiss to her knuckles before resting them on her lap as she leaned her head on your shoulder.
“I'll be fine, you know. You didn't have to come.”
“I know you will. But you should know I want to be with you anyway.”
“I am glad you are here.” she took a deep breath before continuing, “It was just…She showed me things. Like memories but worse somehow.”
You squeezed her hand, “I'm sorry you had to relive them.” then placed a small kiss in her hair before leaning your head against hers. “You are safe now; and you are not alone.”
She squeezed your hand back and you simply sat in silence for a few more breaths.
“It just, I guess, made me realize.”
She moved her head from your shoulder and continued while looking down at her hands.
“That this whole thing—being an Avenger, a hero—is just a dream. A way for me to pretend that I’m something more than the killer—the monster that they made me to be.
“Tasha.” You adjusted to face her, folding a knee beneath you and moving your previously connected hand to her back. “You're being hard on yourself again, my love.”
You moved your right hand up to her face, gently taking her chin to turn her gaze to you and then settling it against her neck, grazing your thumb across her cheek.
“What they did to you makes them monsters, not you. Remember, The things that you've done and who you are are not the same thing.— You are good, Natasha.”
She simply held your gaze for a few breaths, lips curving every so often until she moved forward into a kiss filled with emotion, her hand moving to mirror yours. After breaking away, her forehead rests against yours, and her hand moves to run through the hair at the back of your head.
“What if we just left?”
she spoke barely above a whisper as she pulled her head away to look back at you again, fingers still running along your neck.
“What exactly do you mean by leave?”
“I mean we could stop. No more missions. No more villains. Just us. Somewhere that we can just – be.”
You pulled her into a brief kiss before returning to the position and responding.
“If that is what you want, belle, you know I would follow you to the ends of the earth.”
She shook her head slightly, letting out a brief huff of amusement. “But?”
You couldn't help but smile in return.
“And you say that I know you too well. – there isn't really a but though... I would follow you. And I'm sure we will get the chance to have moments like that. I mean, we’d better, or I think I’ll be kinda pissed. It's just that, I'm not sure we could stop, not completely. You're too good, Natasha. You are always going to be driven to do good in some way.”
“There are other ways to do good and maybe you overestimate me. – Or underestimate my feelings for you.”
It's your turn to look down for a moment before returning to her gaze.
“You know, sometimes I think I forget that we are more alike than I care to admit.”
“Yeah, me too,” she smirked in return before you kissed again.
This time you pushed deeper into each other. She reached to gently tug at your unfolded leg, and you accepted the request, repositioning yourself to straddle her waist. Your hands grip her shoulders firmly while hers immediately find the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath and firmly running across your back. You move your fingers along her collarbone, and as you reach her throat, she breaks away from your lips with a hum. You take the opportunity to slowly trail your lips down her neck as you speak between each kiss.
“—You. — Are. — Good. —”
She let out a deep sigh as your gaze returned to each other, and you ran your hands through her hair, landing on either side of her face and looking into her eyes with a determined affection. You kissed her again—slow, deliberate, and adoring—before pulling her into a firm hug. Her arms wrapped around your back as her head nuzzled into the curve of your neck, and you simply held her, hands stroking her back as the tension she held slowly softened and her grip relaxed.
“You know, if you keep showing up like this, the team’s going to start to notice.”
“Maybe.”
You shrugged and pushed her back onto the bed, hovering above her and planting one last chaste kiss before rolling onto your side. One arm supported your head, while the other rested across her waist, fingers tracing along her side.
“Clint’s the only one that’s seen me so far, but I think Fury’s pep talk will probably overshadow my presence on this one.”
She turned her head, while still remaining on her back, eyebrow raised. “You brought Fury with you?”
You scrunched your face. “Yeah. I mean, I could have said no when he asked, but the transport was faster… I’m sure they will all assume that he's the one who brought me, though.”
“Well, I know better.”
“I had a feeling you were working for him,” Tony quipped as you all gathered in the kitchen.
“I prefer working with , but sure, you can have that point on your intuition score,” you smirked back, taking a seat at the table furthest from Natasha.
It wasn't long before a plan had taken form, and the team was gearing back up. You would go with Fury to New York to drop off Banner and pick up Hill before heading to the still-mysterious Theta facility. So, you found yourself back in the bedroom while Natasha changed, stealing another moment before parting ways; yet again.
“You know, I’m really not a fan of the blue accents.”
She cocked her head, looking over and raising an eyebrow while she holstered her sidearms. “Are you saying I don't look good?”
“Oh, please. You would make a garbage bag look good.”
“Is that so?” she mused as she walked back toward you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. Your hands automatically finding her hips, and resting just above her tactical belt.
“You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you love me,” she shrugged with that charming sideways smirk.
You moved closer, so that your lips brushed lightly against hers as you responded. “More than anything.”
After sharing a passionate yet brief kiss, you rested your forehead back against hers for a moment.
“Dorogoy.” She moved her hand to your face as she looked back into your eyes. “I love you. I— I needed this, even if it was only a few stolen moments. So, thank you for coming.”
“Always, mon amour. Let’s just make this our last goodbye for a while.”
“Absolutely. I think we deserve a vacation after this, actually.”
“Now that sounds like a good plan.”
She moved back toward the bed to equip her Widow bites.
“You don’t know where you are going?”
“I do, technically, because I’ve been sending assets there since I left the tower. But what exactly is waiting, I’m not sure. All I know is that they’re calling it ‘Theta Protocol.’— Sounds like it’s big, though.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be dramatic.”
“Yeah, I’d take that bet.”
With one last quick kiss, you took her hand and exited the room, heading down the stairs and out to the deck. Clint and Laura seemed to have just finished their own goodbye, and so, with a final squeeze of her hand,— good luck exchanged with Clint and a promise to see Laura soon— you all went to work.
You hit the floor behind the bar hard, and Natasha lands on top of you with almost as much force, quickly pushing herself up on her arms.
“Not exactly the moment alone I've been waiting for,”
she scoffs before moving to act, just as you see another body making its way over the countertop toward you, grabbing her by the hips and rolling you both sideways, her back now against the bar as Banner crashes into the wall behind you.
“I take what I can get,”
you quip, placing a quick peck at the edge of her mouth before moving into a kneeling position.
“You good there, Banner?”
you ask as Natasha grabs a pistol from beneath the bar.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” he groaned.
You pull the knife from your ankle holster while looking under the bar.
“Do you have any more of those? I'm feeling a little inadequate over here.”
Natasha ducked back behind the bar for a moment, looking your way.
“Ill-prepared, maybe. Inadequate, never,” she remarked with a wink.
“Toujours le charmeur” (ever the charmer), you huff, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the floor and rising to throw it at the incoming drone.
It draws attention for a moment while Natasha ushers Bruce toward the stairs. The drone fires its repulsor at you, easily avoided as it hits the wall of bottles behind you. Natasha resumes her fire on the drone, which then returns to following them. You spot Tony jumping onto one of the units, attempting to jam something into its neck, and so you act. You quickly crawl onto the bar top and make your way to the edge, putting you at equal height with the drone as it hovers toward the stairs.
As it raises its singular arm, you reach out and stab your knife into the wires under its head. It immediately reacts, spinning around to face you, and you lunge forward to avoid its grip. You use one arm on its shoulder to push yourself up to a good vantage point, using the other to pull the knife out and try again.
“Oh, come on!”
you yell as you keep stabbing into it, feeling it land a grip on the back of your shirt. You push the knife in as far as you can and then twist. That finally must have hit something, as electricity jolts through you momentarily, and the drone drops to the ground.
The scene is suddenly quiet, as it appears only the original drone remains, and you turn to face the voice from your kneeling position. Thor destroys it and you take a deep breath before starting to move.
“Should I be jealous?”
You turn back to see Natasha offering her hand with an eyebrow raised, and you look down, realizing your position straddling the drone’s waist, and let out a small laugh as you reach out.
“I mean, we did share a spark there.”
You take her hand and rise back to your feet before reclaiming your knife and heading back toward the others.
You sit beside Maria at a desk with medical supplies, cleaning the blood from your ears as the discussion proceeds. Once things settle back down and the team focuses on setting up a system to find Ultron, Dr. Cho approaches you.
“Do you want me to take a look at that?”
“Oh, thank you, but they are probably just ruptured. It's not uncommon for me,”
you smiled with a shrug, seeing the intrigue on her face.
“I’d say that was a significant amount of blood. Is it usually that much?”
“Well, you've got me there. It has been this much before, yes, but I’ll admit it is usually less. You see, I, uh, I have enhanced hearing, but they tell me it's more of a change to my brain than my actual ears, so it doesn't always mesh.”
“Honestly, that's even more interesting. You know, I think my Simulacra might be able to strengthen the tissue and help with resistance.”
“I mean, it happens a lot less often than it used to, but it's still enough to be irritating.”
“The prospect would be beneficial to my research as well, so I'd be happy to give it a try if you would be able to make it to my lab sometime.”
“You know, I think I could take you up on that.”
As she enters contact information into your phone, you catch Natasha's gaze as she sends a soft smile and a nod your way. A few minutes later, Steve heads over and speaks to the room.
“Well, it seems there isn't much more we can do until it shows up again, so everyone should get some rest, and we will regroup first thing in the morning.”
You all made your way to the elevator, saying your goodbyes and as it arrived a light grasp at your bicep from Natasha as Hill, Rhodes, and Cho stepped forward, told you to stay. Steve went with them, having offered to escort the Doctor, and as he turned back towards the doors, a look of curiosity crossed his face as he gestured towards you.
“I just realized… your outfits kind of match.”
You looked down at your vest and over to Natasha with an inquisitive guise and replied,
“Huh. I suppose you are right. I hadn't even noticed.”
A smirk crossed Maria's face as the doors began to close, and a huff escaped from Clint, resulting in Natasha kicking him lightly in the shin.
“So I guess I'm not going home tonight?”
you inquire, ignoring him as the second elevator arrives.
“I'm not, so neither are you,”
Natasha counters, taking your hand in hers as the three of you move forward.
“Ah, so finally going to take me back to that room I've been asking to see all night?”
She rolled her eyes, leaning her shoulder into yours as Clint selected the floor.
“You know, sometimes I wish you would act like I don't know,”
“Be careful what you complain about; you know we could be far worse,” she jested back as you all smiled with exhaustion evident.
Once inside her room, you tuck into each other, her head resting on your shoulder, breath ghosting along your neck. One arm holds her tight around her lower back, the other reaching across her shoulders to run through her hair. After a minute, she places a gentle kiss on your neck and mutters into your skin.
“You smell like Yorsh.”
You let out a gruff laugh before responding as your grip loosens,
“Well, that is what happens when you go crashing into and rolling around on a bar… and sorry to say, my love, but you do too.”
“Rude,”
she retorts, pulling away as you face each other, your hand trailing up and down her bicep. She places two fingers against your sternum with solid pressure.
“You tried to fight a robot with a knife, ”
she says, with a strong look of annoyance on her face, as she moves her hand up to your face, drifting her fingers along the base of your ear.
“I tried to deactivate a robot with a knife, and was successful.”
“Still not your best idea.”
“Probably not… then again, being with you will always take that award.”
You grin with a wink, sticking your tongue out slightly. She sighs deeply and leans her head down, forehead resting atop your nose hiding the blush as she shakes her head.
“You're ridiculous.”
“And you love it.”
She looks back up, and you lean into each other, savoring a tender kiss for several minutes. Somehow, no matter how long you are apart, it always still feels worth the wait. As you pull away, she turns around so you can unzip her dress and then leads you to the bathroom as she discards it, removing your own top as you follow.
“That white vest sure was a bold choice,”
Natasha declares as you lie side by side, skin on skin, with her hand traveling flat across your torso. You are lying with your head against your right arm as it stretches across the pillow, fingers gently twisting through her hair still wet from your earlier shower. The other rests steady on her thigh, thumb tracing the curve of her hip.
“Mmm, I couldn't resist after seeing your photo. Do you think it gave us away?”
“Certainly not any more than you staying the night here has,”
you both let out a small huff of amusement before pulling into a soft kiss.
“You could stay and help us figure this out, you know. I'm sure the team wouldn't mind the extra set of hands.”
“Oh, I’m sure you would love to have my hands around.”
She simply rolls her eyes as you smirk.
“You know Stark did give me the impression that maybe you all talked about me joining a bit more than I had thought.”
“They might have asked about bringing it up again after Colorado, but I knew what your answer would be.”
“Because we agreed, yeah, and I mean I think it's been working… but things can change, mon amour, it’s okay if you want to talk about it again.”
She sighed and moved her hand to the front of your neck as she looked into your eyes.
“You know, I really don't like how you can read me like that.”
You let out a laugh and placed a light kiss on her forehead before returning to her gaze.
“Don't worry, you're not losing your flair.”
“It's nothing bad. I mean, you're right, it's working. I guess I've just been finding myself even more irritated lately—by how much I miss you, and I mean, even if you were on the team, there would still be times like that, so I don't know if it's the answer or if there even is one. It’s...” she shrugged slightly and let out a small laugh, “я просто люблю тебя” (I just love you).
“Я тоже тебя люблю” (I love you too).
She moved closer to you as you shared another kiss, legs further entwining as her chest met yours, and your hand moved to the small of her back, holding her close.
A few moments later she pushed further, moving you more fully onto your back as she lay partly atop you, pulling up her arm to raise herself to a higher position, and moving her other hand to your face, slowly running it down your head before resting at your cheek and thumb brushing against you as she looked into your eyes with a new soberness.
“This is a bad one. Rip. It’s not going to be clean.”
“I know. That’s why I need to go. You have the best chance with the resources you have here. You will find it, I know you will. But Fury also has his connections, and I can help with that—gather further information and prepare assets. Be ready to help if the time comes.”
“Our little attack on two fronts tease becoming practical; again.”
“Yeah, so it seems. Just, you know. Stay safe.”
“As long as you don't go doing anything foolish… like fighting robots with knives, for example.”
“Can't give you any guarantees there, belle, but… I can promise that I will be here for you if you need me, when you need me—always.”
You melted back into each other, pushing away the anxiety of the current situation, enjoying the short time together before you went your separate ways yet again.
Semi Retelling of Age of Ultron in which have an established but (mostly) undisclosed relationship with Natasha and you navigate the continued complexities of being together while working separately.
Reader is an Ex SHIELD Agent with Enhanced Hearing & Sight currently working for Fury
Chapter 1 - THE PARTY
The music's volume increased with each second as the elevator made its way up the tower, and you shifted your concentration, causing it to slowly fade to the back of your mind as the doors opened. Lights flashed across the half-full room, a fair sized group dancing on the upper level, while various smaller groups conversed around the pool tables and lounge areas. Stark certainly never half-asses a party.
You automatically took note of the floor plan and exits, even spotting Steve and Sam playing pool with some veterans on the lower level as you scanned the room searching for your target. You reached into your pocket as a familiar face approached you from the stairs, pulling out a USB drive and holding it covertly at your hip.
“You know I don't really appreciate being asked to do work while I'm supposed to be on time off,”
“Yeah, well, it's not like you weren't coming here anyway,”
she quipped with a smile, discreetly taking the USB as you both pulled into a hug.
“Good to see you, Maria.”
“Been a while, RJ, especially since I heard you were in town last month and didn't even call.”
“That was a rather quick visit, and the last time we did get a little overly rowdy.”
“I think you mean we had fun, and I could use some variety because, you know, I'm still going a little stir-crazy in this bland situation.”
“And I stand by my statement that it's your own fault for accepting the job, but yes, we are due for a catch-up. Right now, however, I am late for a date.”
She nodded as she gestured with her drink.
“She’s at the bar. Talk to you later, Jensen.”
You returned the gesture with a brief touch on her shoulder as you walked by, and she slipped the USB into her bag.
It only took a few steps before you spotted her red hair against the wall of bottles, watching as she mixed her drink while you walked toward her. Natasha Romanoff, absolutely stunning (as always), and oh so yours. She caught your eye briefly while pouring her drink and simply moved to place a short glass on the counter, reaching for another bottle and pouring as you approached, now only a few steps away.
You found yourself unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face as you noted her looking you up and down while she took a sip from her martini glass. You had chosen to wear a simple outfit: black pants and dress shirt, buttons undone quite a bit, with the sleeves rolled, paired with a white vest—maybe not so subtly matching her dress.
“Like what you see?”
you smirked with a cocked eyebrow as you closed the distance, and she moved to the front of the bar, leaning against the counter as she shrugged in response.
“Ты Опоздал” (you're late)
“I am. Надеялся чото—может быть’—я смогу как-то загладить—Свою вину перед тобой” (Was hoping maybe some way I could make up to you.)
She let out a small sound of amusement as her mouth moved into a sideways smile while resting her arm along the counter. You took a drink from the waiting glass, then rested your arm with the glass hanging over the edge, your forearm leaning against her fingers.
“Well, first of all, you should definitely keep working on that Russian, but….”
she paused to lift her hand and gently ran her fingers from your elbow to your wrist, letting them rest back on the counter, maintaining contact before continuing,
“Я уверен, что мы сможем што-то придумать” (I'm sure there is something we can work out).
You wet your lips and tilted your head up to the ceiling, for a moment before returning to her gaze.
“Так у тебя есть’ где-нибудь’ здесь’ комната?” (So do you have a room around here somewhere?)
“Of course you can say THAT almost perfectly,”
she scoffed with a roll of her eyes and a light blush crossing her cheeks.
You gestured with your empty hand.
“Priorities.”
You spend a few moments simply standing with your eyes locked as the party continues around you. It's still so easy to get lost in her eyes. It's only been three weeks since you left for your last mission, and yet it feels like it's been ages.
“You should stop looking at me like that.”
She shakes her head slightly as she runs her tongue subtly along her bottom lip.
“Well, maybe you should stop being so alluring then.”
You shift the glass to your other hand and move your arm to the other side of hers so your fingers rest behind her elbow and your thumb moves slowly up and down along the side of her arm, the contact hidden by the position of your bodies. She takes a deep breath and then moves closer toward you, positioning her head above your shoulder, lips an inch from your ear as she whispers, and a shiver runs up your spine.
“You’re making it very hard not to kiss you.”
You smile as she returns to her position.
“Well, you are always making that difficult for me, Natasha. But surely there must be somewhere around here we can escape to—just for a minute.”
“I’d like a lot more than a minute,”
She cocks her head as a brief heat spreads across your face, before she suddenly composes her features and continues,
“But it looks like we just lost our window.”
A familiar voice rings out from behind you as Natasha pulls away from the counter.
“Jensen? Hey, I thought that was you. Long time no see!”
You turn around to face him as you both reach out for a handshake.
“Well, if it isn't the birdman himself. Hey, Wilson, how’ve you been?”
It was only a few moments before Steve joined the three of you, and then over the next couple of hours, you found yourself immersed in conversations around the party, with Steve officially introducing you to Thor, Banner, and Rhodes. As people slowly started to head out, you and Steve were watching Clint and Natasha play a round of pool when Tony approached.
“Tony, you remember RJ? They helped us out with that Colorado mission a few months back.”
“I mean, I was a little busy kicking ass, but yes, I believe I do. You were undercover. Jensen, right?”
You shook his extended hand and confirmed,
“Yep, that was me.”
“I believe I recall Steve shortlisting you to join the team.”
Steve shifted his stance awkwardly at the comment, then shrugged.
“You did basically save my life.. twice.”
“Well, I was basically just doing my job.”
“And what job do you do now?” Tony inquired, “Because I’ll admit, getting the thumbs up from Rogers, Hill, Barton, AND Romanoff certainly caught my attention.”
“Consider me flattered, but like I said last year, I’m more than happy to help out whenever I can, but I have my reasons for declining. And I do private contracting.”
Taking a drink you catch Natasha’s eye briefly; it seems that she may not have been completely open about just how much they had tried to get you on board.
“Take work from anyone I might know?”
“It's possible,” you shrug, knowing that he was hinting at Fury. “But I don't take a whole lot in general—trying to get that good work-life balance, ya know?”
“Ah yes, Pepper is always saying something about that.”
The party had tapered down with only a few guests remaining as you sat on the large couch between Clint and Maria. Looking around the room, Natasha was getting another drink from the bar, and Steve was walking the last of the veterans out. You notice that, aside from yourself, Hill, and Dr. Cho, it was just the Avengers team remaining.
"Seems like I'm the odd one out here; maybe I should be on my way,"
you gesture to your friends. Clint elbowed you lightly in the ribs.
"Relax, RJ, you're not crashing some Avengers-only party—besides, are you really going to leave without her?"
You elbowed him back harder.
"She knows where to find me."
"I still can't believe you wore matching outfits,"
Maria chided from your other side.
"They're not matching; they are just a little… complementary. Besides, it's barely even noticeable."
"Still not the best for hiding," Clint replied.
"Oh, please, you of all people should know there is a big difference between hiding and not disclosing."
He gestured in defeat.
"Maybe you're just jealous,"
Maria chimed in, gesturing vaguely toward the bar, and you see Bruce sitting and talking to Natasha as she mixes a drink.
"Oh, yes, I am totally GREEN with envy."
They both look at you for a second, and then you all let out a brief burst of laughter.
“Well, looks like we have ourselves a little SHIELD reunion over here,”
Tony quips as he and Rhodes take a seat on one of the other couches while Natasha and Bruce make their way back over.
“Although now only these three get to do the fun stuff,” Maria remarks.
“Your own fault.” You, Clint, and Natasha all chip in at the same time before chuckling.
Natasha passes you a drink before settling in beside Maria with her own.
“Thank you.”
“What, nothing for me?” Clint gasps at her.
“Go make your own,” she shrugs in response as Tony interjects,
“Well, maybe I should be glad you didn’t take that offer, Jensen. I’m not sure I could handle all of this, all of the time.”
Rhodes quickly replies, “You’re one to talk,” and you all let out another laugh.
The others slowly joined the circle, and the chatter continued. Admittedly, everyone’s attempts to lift Thor’s hammer were thoroughly amusing. Then suddenly something catches your ear. You’re used to hearing random sounds, but this is strange—it's sudden, sharp, and painful. You’re unable to contain your physical response, feeling your face contort and eyes closing as you hear Natasha beside you.
“Ripley?”
Opening your eyes, you see everyone looking at you now. You try for a moment to push it away unsuccessfully, as it instead increases in intensity.
“Ah, yeah, sorry. Shit. Ahh, nobody else…”
The sound gets suddenly louder, and you bring your hands up to cover your ears in an attempt to minimize the assault on your senses as you lean forward. You feel hands on you from both sides, but then they are suddenly pulled away as the sound increases yet again, and you force your eyes open to see everyone else now holding their ears as well.
Luckily, the sound doesn't last much longer, yet leaves your ears ringing when it stops. Feeling a touch on your face as you compose yourself, you turn to see Natasha pulling her hand away from your ear, bright with blood. You reach up again yourself and feel the wetness seeping down your neck on either side. You share a brief look of concern before noticing everyone moving toward the east wall as the skeletal figure stumbles forward.
Hands clenched into fists — Anger, restraint, or holding back something violent or vulnerable.
Fingers tapping rhythmically — Impatience, nerves, or a personal ritual.
Picking at a scab/cut/nail — Anxious, distracted, or self-soothing.
Hands behind back — Formal, guarded, or trying to appear in control.
Palms up / open hands — Surrender, honesty, or pleading.
Hands gripping something tightly — Trying to stay grounded or keep it together.
Rubbing temples — Overwhelmed, stressed, or trying to think clearly.
Knuckles white from pressure — Rage, fear, or intense focus.
Cracking knuckles — Habitual tension, or a signal that something’s about to go down.
Thumbs hooked into pockets/belt loops — Relaxed, cocky, or casual authority.
Touching their mouth while thinking — Deep in thought, holding something back.
Hands fluttering mid-gesture — Nervous energy, overexplaining, or searching for words.
Hands in fists in pockets — Rage or fear hidden under fake chill.
Wrists limp at their sides — Defeated, exhausted, or too numb to react.
Shaking out their fingers — Releasing adrenaline, fear, or something they don’t want to carry anymore.
Emotional Walls Your Character Has Built (And What Might Finally Break Them)
(How your character defends their soft core and what could shatter it) Because protection becomes prison real fast.
✶ Sarcasm as armor. (Break it with someone who laughs gently, not mockingly.)
✶ Hyper-independence. (Break it with someone who shows up even when they’re told not to.)
✶ Stoicism. (Break it with a safe space to fall apart.)
✶ Flirting to avoid intimacy. (Break it with real vulnerability they didn’t see coming.)
✶ Ghosting everyone. (Break it with someone who won’t take silence as an answer.)
✶ Lying for convenience. (Break it with someone who sees through them but stays anyway.)
✶ Avoiding touch. (Break it with accidental, gentle contact that feels like home.)
✶ Oversharing meaningless things to hide real depth. (Break it with someone who asks the second question.)
✶ Overworking. (Break it with forced stillness and the terrifying sound of their own thoughts.)
✶ Pretending not to care. (Break it with a loss they can’t fake their way through.)
✶ Avoiding mirrors. (Break it with a quiet compliment that hits too hard.)
✶ Turning every conversation into a joke. (Break it with someone who doesn’t laugh.)
✶ Being everyone’s helper. (Break it when someone asks what they need, and waits for an answer.)
✶ Constantly saying “I’m fine.” (Break it when they finally scream that they’re not.)
✶ Running. Always running. (Break it with someone who doesn’t chase, but doesn’t leave, either.)
✶ Intellectualizing every feeling. (Break it with raw, messy emotion they can’t logic away.)
✶ Trying to be the strong one. (Break it when someone sees the weight they’re carrying, and offers to help.)
✶ Hiding behind success. (Break it when they succeed and still feel empty.)
✶ Avoiding conflict at all costs. (Break it when silence causes more pain than the truth.)
✶ Focusing on everyone else’s healing but their own. (Break it when they hit emotional burnout.)
The Story of the undercover mission that resulted in you and Natasha's first kiss. Set in 2011 around 6 months prior to Avengers.
One Shot - 4909 Words - NatashaxReader/OC - Reader is SHIELD Agent with Enhanced Hearing and Sight (L/N=Jensen)
READ ON A03 HERE :)
"your attention shifted to the main doors as a group of about a dozen young women entered. Not an uncommon sight, of course; however, it was the bright red hair that had immediately caught your attention. A smirk spread across your face as you wondered what kind of trouble Natasha Romanoff was inevitably bringing with her."
As you returned to the second floor, the music reverberated through your entire body, and you took a brief moment to steady yourself, straightening out your suit jacket. Even after almost six months, it still took a fair amount of concentration to keep control of your abilities in this atmosphere. This mission had ended up being quite helpful for practice; it did feel as though you had made significant progress in controlling your ability to differentiate between sounds and block out unnecessary ones.
You were currently running the club and the drug operation it was a cover for while Klein was away on business. You were usually placed in less desirable positions, often the target of capture—the exact opposite of your current mission—and you had to admit you found yourself enjoying the power.
You were here because, even the drug operation was somewhat of a front, Klein was working with someone you knew only as ‘The Pedlar,’ funneling top-secret information to criminal organizations across the globe. Although Klein had not yet brought you fully into that aspect of the work, your abilities had allowed you to gather a fair amount of information, and you were sure that this was a kind of test that would result in your being brought further in upon his return.
Everything had been going well so far; the most important part of the weekend, a large cocaine delivery, had progressed without issue last night, and now you just had the evening to relax until his return tomorrow. Marcus, the club manager, approached as you walked along the rail of the balcony. He was young, barely out of high school, and honestly too innocent to be taking up this kind of life, but he did what he was told.
“Jeremiah is here again. He’s insisting on speaking with you.”
“Couldn't handle it yourself, Marcus?”
you tilted your head in return, and as he replied, your attention shifted to the main doors as a group of about a dozen young women entered. Not an uncommon sight, of course; however, it was the bright red hair that had immediately caught your attention. A smirk spread across your face as you wondered what kind of trouble Natasha Romanoff was inevitably bringing with her.
“It’s fine, Marcus. You can bring him up, and while you're down there, find out about this group of women that just came in for me, would you?”
“Yes, boss, of course.”
You kept your eyes on the women as they made their way to a set of tables in the corner, and Natasha positioned herself in the booth between the tables, an easy exit and good vantage point for the room as she conversed with the others, her eyes subtly taking in the surroundings. She was wearing a simple black asymmetric dress, with her left shoulder fully exposed and the hem falling just below the knee, a reasonable length aside from the drastic slit running nearly the full length of her right thigh.
Whatever the issue was, it must be serious; otherwise, they would have simply waited until your weekly check-in. Yet of all the agents they could have sent, it just had to be her. At least you could take advantage of your abilities; you just hoped that the benefit would outweigh the distraction she always managed to cause within you.
Marcus returned with Jerimiah following closely behind. He was in his early 40s with a disheveled appearance.
“If you are hoping to get any special treatment because Klein is away, you are very, very mistaken.”
“No, no, of course not, Jayce. I, ah, I know you run a tight ship. I, ah, I’m just here to, like, apologize. I know I messed up, but I can make it up. I can, if you just give me a chance.”
“Ahhh, you want MORE,”
you respond as you walk closer to the man.
“We are not in the business of supplying to people who like to sample the product, and by the looks of you right now, that is still a problem.”
“No, no. Jayce, I swear I’ll pay full. I will. I just can’t survive off 200; I need to bring in more. Please, I can do it. I can.”
Reaching out, you grab him by the shirt and move him against the nearby wall before continuing,
“Clean yourself up, and you'll make more by actually selling what you’re taking for yourself. Three months at 2, and then I’ll consider it. But if you show up here again asking for more before then, it will be the last time you get anything. You hear me?”
He only nodded as you released him, and he made his way back down the nearby stairs. You turn to Marcus.
“You don't have to do much, you know, Marcus, just be firm and always follow through.”
“Right, got it, boss. Also, those women you asked about? They are from the local sorority—semi-regulars—but have a couple of new members with them, apparently. No red flags, though.”
“Good. Send a round to their table from me.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Grabbing your drink from the table, you returned to the railing. You knew it wouldn't take Natasha long to spot you, yet you figured it would be better to make it as easy as possible. Marcus approached the table, and after divvying up the drinks among the women, he gestured to you above, and they all cheered in your direction.
You and Natasha locked eyes as you shared a small smile and raised your glasses before you rested your forearms on the railing, holding your drink in front of you. She raised her glass to her lips, pretending to drink as she spoke,
“Long time no see, Jensen. You good to hear me from up there?”
You nodded and tugged at your ear to signal her to go ahead.
“Sorry to intrude, but we have a problem that they wanted relayed ASAP. Klein was taken in by the FBI yesterday, and it sounds like he’s making a deal. Fury wants to know if you are able to access the record system so we can get the data out before they take this place down.”
You stretched your neck out and downed the rest of your drink, pointing at the dance floor before turning around. Heading down the stairs, you stopped at the edge of the bar and advised the VIP waitress to send some champagne up and to be ready to supply full service.
Natasha is easily spotted on the dance floor as you approach, offering her a hand and immediately pulling her in close. Her arms wrap around your neck as you take hold of her hips and move your head above her shoulder to speak into her ear.
“Aren't you getting a little old to be taking the role of a college student?”
You find yourself overly aware of just how close your bodies are as you move to the music. You both pull away slightly to face each other, a smirk on her face as she raises an eyebrow and responds,
“Maybe. But it sure caught your attention pretty quick.”
You raise a hand and run it through the hair flowing over her shoulder as it runs halfway down her bicep.
“Your hair is longer.”
“It does that. But I have been thinking about cutting it short.”
“Well, either way, you always look stunning.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself.”
Her hand moves down the lapel of your suit jacket slowly before she turns, pressing her back to your front as you continue to dance.
“We can do it, but it has to be tonight, and it will break my cover.”
“We suspected it might. We have the go-ahead to break if you're sure we can get it, but Fury says we can have four days.”
“I'm head of the house until Klein gets back tomorrow, and once he does, it will be much harder. Do you have a USB on you?”
“I do.”
“Good. Then let's party. Introduce me to your new friends.”
You spend the next hour or so back up on the second floor with the dozen college students as they continue to drink and dance. Settled into the corner of one of the couches with your arm around Natasha, your fingers running along her bare arm while hers rest on your thigh, playing your parts.
She continues to play up her intoxication, switching between conversations with the others and whispering in your ear. With anyone else, you're sure you would have had to actively remember to keep up with the ruse even to simply look relaxed in this position. However, with Natasha, it wasn't even really a ruse; the positioning, the physical closeness, the movements just felt natural.
The thought of which causes you pause, you had hoped that perhaps some more significant time away from her would have diminished some of these feelings, but it seemed as though they were as prevalent as ever. Shifting slightly, Natasha moves her hand up to the base of your neck, drawing your attention back to her.
“So when are we gonna get out of here?”
“Soon,”
you reply, moving your own hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear and slowly pulling it back across her face. Staring into each other's eyes, you can't help but find yourself drawn to her. Unsure if it was on purpose or not, her gaze quickly jumps to your lips and back. Causing your breath to hitch slightly as you both look away, and you bite your lip.
Considering the play you were trying to put on, it would have made sense for you to have kissed her by now, probably more than once, and yet you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. As you try to sort through the thoughts of why you are holding back, the announcement for the last call rings out. You shift to get up, seeing Marcus against the wall nearby.
“Come on, Marcus, let loose a bit! You did well this weekend, so have a bit of fun to celebrate. I know I'm going to.”
You wink at him as you turn to Natasha, holding out your hand. She takes it and rises to her feet, adding a slight stumble for dramatic flair. You lead her to the elevator doors and make your way up to the third floor. It’s slightly more narrow and runs around the perimeter of the building, similar to the second; however, it is fully enclosed with one-way glass, the sound of the music greatly diminished.
You head down the hallway, stopping briefly at the security room. You open the door, and multiple screens fill the wall with two people seated inside. The older of the two has already turned to face you.
“James, I'm going to the office for a while, and I DO NOT want to be disturbed, got it?”
His eyes flicker between the two of you with a satisfied grin.
“You got it, boss.”
Closing the door behind you, you continue on to the final room, reaching your hand up to glide your ring over the access panel light, which turns green before you enter the code and it clicks open. Once inside, you release Natasha and direct her to the desk at the center.
“This is the only room in the building not monitored. Everything is in there. I only have access to the primary system; however, it shouldn't be hard to break into the rest, so have at it.”
You finish entering your login information and gesture to Natasha toward the computer as she pulls a USB drive out from her clutch.
“Admitting that I'm better than you, Jensen?”
“Maybe. But then again, faster isn't the same as better.”
“I suppose that depends on who you ask.”
As she works her way through the computer, you take off your suit jacket and toss it onto one of the chairs, then swipe your arm along the edge of the desk, causing some papers and office supplies to fall to the floor. Natasha shoots you an amused look while you untuck your shirt.
“Might as well make it look convincing,”
you muse as you remove your ring and toss it in the garbage can.
“Okay, I'm in, but it's a lot. It could take up to 15 minutes to download. Think we have that?”
“Should be fine. Just one wildcard.”
She moves to the front of the desk and leans against it as you look on from the window.
“Certainly not the kind of place I usually find myself extricating you from.”
“It certainly is not. It has been an interesting change of pace.”
“The power looks good on you.”
“Careful, Romanoff; I might start to think you actually like me.”
You share a look before you turn your attention back to the window.
“We will be able to walk away from here with no issue. They won't even notice anything, not until Klein gets back, and we are hopefully long gone so we can stop at my apartment and collect the relay supplies before we head out. It will also be good for the car tracker.”
“Sounds good. I'm set up at a hotel downtown and can contact HQ when we arrive to arrange travel.”
“When did you get in?”
“About this time yesterday.”
“And still took you this long to come visit?”
“Well, I did expect to have a few more days to plan after contact, but I also didn't expect it to be quite this easy.”
“Yeah, me too. I mean, they will mess you up, but if you're in, you're in. Honestly, I think the Pedlar might have picked them as an access point because the operation is just so- average none would expect big things from them”
Then you see Allison talking with Marcus on the second floor, her typical irritating self, asking where you are.
“Well, of course there's the wild card. How much time do we have left?”
Natasha leans back to look at the screen as you walk towards her, listening to the pair reach the top of the elevator.
“87%. Should only be a couple of minutes, max.”
“Okay, we should be able to handle that then,”
you finish as you approach her space, smirking as you lift her onto the desk to sit just in front of the computer, positioning yourself between her legs. She subtly places her left hand at your waist, within easy reach of your holster.
“Don’t get trigger happy; it’s just the second in command. I had her taking care of distribution downstairs. She's annoying but won't cause issues unless we do. Trust me, Natalie , I can talk us out.”
“Don't worry, Jayce , I’ll follow your lead.”
You look into each other's eyes again, bodies against each other, face so close you can feel her breath on your lips. You find yourself having to focus on controlling your breathing as she raises her right hand to your face. You can hear James arguing with them as they approach the door, and you brace yourself to move.
Hesitating for a moment, you begin; however, instead of a forward motion, you move drastically to her left and lay your lips on her neck. She stretches away from you, looking at the ceiling as she moves her hand past your ear to grip the back of your head. You find yourself a little lost in the taste of her skin as you slowly move, then hearing the security panel activate, you move your right hand to her exposed thigh.
As your fingers slide under the fabric of the slit, you notice her breath catch, causing you to tighten your grip. The sudden hum that escapes her throat immediately elicits the same effect in yours, taking you by surprise as the door opens. You glance at the USB, still glowing red, before you turn your head to the right, remaining in the same position and speaking towards the wall.
“I recall specifically telling you that I did not want to be disturbed, James.”
It’s Allison who responds, irritation lacing her voice.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be fucking around on the job.”
“I’ll fuck around when and wherever I want.”
You turn your head back towards Natasha’s shoulder, taking a glance at the computer just as you see the glow turn green. You plant another kiss on her shoulder, continuing to speak as you move your right hand from her thigh to her hip and lean forward slightly so that you can remove the USB from the computer.
“But there is no need to be jealous, Allison.”
As you turn to face the trio, you run your hand up Natasha’s back and tuck the USB into the band of her bra before running your fingers along her hair.
“Excuse me for a moment here, darling.”
You walk across the room towards the three standing at the door. Marcus and James have slight concern etched on their faces while Allison continues to look at Natasha.
“James, I find myself disappointed in you, and trust me, you will not like what happens if you do that a second time. Get back to your post.”
“Yes, boss. Won't happen again.”
He turns and leaves the room as you turn to the others.
“Might you please remind me who Klein left in charge?”
“That would be you, Jayce,”
Marcus responds with a clearing of his throat as Allison turns her gaze back to you. You move to stand in front of her, only a step away.
“But of course, you think it should have been you.”
“I've been here for over a year; I should have been next in line when Alaris left.”
She raises her arm, and you quickly catch her wrist in a firm grip.
“Perhaps you should have done a better job of proving yourself then, mmm?”
She moves to pull away from your grip while attempting to strike you with her free arm, and you easily block her. Quickly, you strike an elbow into her jaw and spin her in your grip before pinning her to the wall, one arm behind her back, with your knife now pulled from your belt and pressed into the wall beside her head.
“You really need to learn to keep your attitude in check.”
Moving the knife down to her shoulder, you slowly press in until drawing blood and slide back, leaving an inch-long cut.
“Truly Allison. You should think about how to better prove yourself, because when Klein returns and finds out that you gave Jerimiah another 200 after I specifically told him no, well, let’s just say he’s not going to be very happy with you.”
“How did you…”
Before she finishes, you pull her back from the wall a couple of inches before pushing her back into it with force and kicking out her knee, letting her fall to the ground.
“I, unlike some of us here, am actually good at my job.”
You turn around, sheathing your knife, and throwing Natasha a roll of the eyes as you walk back towards her.
“It was, ahhh, Niomi?”
She stands from the desk.
“Natalie.”
“Right, Natalie, sorry. What do you say we take this back to my place, where we won’t get so rudely interrupted?”
She simply nods coyly and takes your hand, both turning to leave as Allison stands from the floor.
“You think you can do better? Have at it. Close up for the night, and if I find anything out of place come morning, I'll show you what a real scar looks like.”
Walking back out of the club and heading down toward the garage, you notice Marcus coming down behind you.
“Just close up and head home as usual, Marcus. She shouldn't give you any trouble.”
“I was just wondering, was there anything I could — I mean, should — have done differently, Jayce? I know I shouldn't really ask. I'm just really trying, and I want to do better. Be more like you.”
You share a quick glance with Natasha as you approach the car.
“Honestly, if you want to be more like me, then you're in the wrong place.”
You open the passenger door for Natasha and close it behind her before turning to the young man.
“Why do you even want to be in this business, Marcus?”
“Well, I mean, you know I'm good with the books, and it's lucrative, so why not?”
“Look, kid, I'm going to be straight with you for a minute, okay? You have some good skills and potential, but those can be put to good use in a lot of different areas, and you could do some good out there. So I'm just saying, if an opportunity presents itself, you should seriously consider it.”
You placed a hand on his shoulder briefly before heading over to the driver's side and opening the door.
“Oh, and Marcus?”
“Yeah, boss?”
“This conversation never happened.”
He nodded, and you entered the car and drove away.
“Getting soft spots for criminals now, Jensen?”
Natasha smirked as you drove.
“I wouldn't call it that. But I would be lying if I said I didn't see a bit of myself in him.”
It didn't take long to get to your nearby apartment. Upon entry, you began to strip down, tossing articles of clothing onto the floor as you walked to the bedroom and removed the blanket. You pulled off and reset the sheet in a more disorganized position, and before removing your pants, now only in your underwear, Natasha spoke from her position leaning against the doorframe.
“Always putting on a show.”
You shrugged as you made your way to the closet, noting her gaze lingering on you.
“Why not? They will look here eventually; might as well keep up the act as much as possible. You know, you could take that off and add to the ploy.”
You sent a wink her way as you donned more casual attire.
“I could. But I think you would enjoy it too much; best to keep free of distractions.”
“You say that as if just being here isn't a distraction.”
You purposefully avoid looking at her during the exchange. This style of banter is not out of the ordinary, but it was getting more difficult to keep a straight face. She simply watched as you finished your task, collecting the relay equipment from its hiding place inside the vent before emptying the gun magazine and leaving it on the counter with the knife, phone, and keys. You left through the fire escape in order to avoid the front door security cameras and walked a couple of blocks before hailing a cab and heading to the hotel.
Once you arrived, Natasha went to change and called to arrange transport back to DC while you made some tea. She exited the washroom wearing jeans and a simple red tank top, her hair tied up in a ponytail and cell phone tucked against her shoulder. You handed her a mug, and she nodded with a smile as you passed by, heading to the balcony with your own in hand.
The early morning stillness was always something you enjoyed, as long as it was the end of a day and not the start of one. You realized you must have gotten quite used to standing on a balcony from your time at the club, as you naturally leaned against the rail.
After a few minutes, Natasha joined you, advising that they had been able to reroute a nearby Quinjet, which would arrive in just a couple of hours. She stood a few steps away from you, leaning her back against the rail as she drank. You stood in silence for several minutes, simply breathing the fresh air before she spoke.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You know you can, but whether or not I answer is another story.”
You turned your head to look at her as you replied with curiosity, wondering what it would be, as you could tell her tone was more serious in nature. She broke eye contact, looking up at the sky briefly before continuing to look forward.
“I was just curious. Earlier in the office. Why didn’t you kiss me?”
You couldn't help but release a small huff of amusement as you looked down.
“It ah, certainly would have made sense.”
“It would have. Probably even before the office.”
“Maybe I wanted to minimize distractions.”
“So my lips are a distraction, but my neck isn't?”
She smirked as she looked at you this time, and you turned to face her, leaning a hip against the railing as you returned the look with a shrug of your shoulder.
“Well, I guess you've got me there.”
You paused for a moment as you considered your thoughts and took a breath.
“I was going to, and then I, ah, I had a thought, and so then I didn't.”
“What was the thought?”
“Natasha…” You took another deep breath as you shook your head. “Why do you want to know so badly?”
She crossed her arms and turned to face you, mirroring your position, hip against the rail.
“I, ah, had a thought too. When it seemed like you were going to.”
“Ah, I see, so you'll tell me if I tell you.”
You gestured with your hands as she shrugged.
“Only seems fair.”
You continued to shake your head and turned again to face the room, leaning your back against the rail and taking a drink, looking up at the sky for a moment as you thought.
“Because it was just a mission. An act we were putting on; something that had to be done. And I knew we needed to do something, but I couldn't shake the thought that I just... I didn't want our first kiss to be that—to be just a part of a mission.”
“Our first kiss?”
You tilted your head to look at her again.
“I said what I said.”
You watched her chest rise as she took a deep breath and then spoke, barely above a whisper.
“I wanted you to.”
She looked up at you, and you locked eyes as she continued more clearly.
“The thought that I had when it seemed like you were going to—it was that I wanted you too.”
“mmm, in the moment or in general?”
She didn't respond at first; you just looked at each other for a couple of seconds before she pushed away from the rail, putting her cup on the table beside you and moving to stand in front of you.
“Is this just a part of the mission?”
she asked, her face stern as a flash of confusion crossed over yours.
“What?”
Her demeanor broke as she scrunched her features slightly.
“Right now. Here. Do you consider this a part of the mission?”
You felt your heart beating as you realized what you thought she was implying, and as she ran her tongue along her lips, you found yourself having to swallow before you responded.
“No. It isn't.”
You only managed to stand up from your lean before she closed the distance between you, running her hand across your cheek as she leaned forward, pausing for only a second before making contact.
Her lips moved slowly against yours in the moment before you reacted, your free hand reaching for her hip and pushing harder against her. Tender yet fierce you moved firmly against each other, the tension of the last few years finally released.
Lost in the heat of the moment for only a minute before the need to touch her overtook you, you pushed your body forward a step, causing her to stumble back slightly, gripping your hip to stabilize herself. You pulled away for air and leaned to place your cup onto the table, finding yourself distracted enough that it tipped to its side rather loudly, causing you both to smile and huff.
Your attention turned back to her as you raised your now free hand to her face, running your thumb along her jawline. Silent for a moment, you simply took in her features in a way that you had stopped yourself from doing since you first met. As your hand completed its trip across her face, you moved it to the back of her neck and lightly pulled her back towards you.
You wouldn't even be able to estimate the number of times you had thought about this moment. Yet it was like nothing you could have imagined—the feeling of her body against yours, her lips smooth and full, the softness of her skin and hair in your hand, her grip as her hand slid up your back. You found yourself completely lost in the moment, hearing only the rapid thumping of your hearts.
Unsure how many minutes passed before the sudden ringing of the phone startled you. Pulling apart, your foreheads leaned against each other to breathe, she was the first to speak.
“That's probably the notice that our car has arrived.”
“Yeah. We should. probably get it.”
“Yeah. We probably. should.”
You pulled away enough to look into each other's eyes again as you moved a stray hair behind her ear and softly declared,
Within two weeks, you had your affairs in order. The suitcases were already loaded in the vehicle as you parted ways with Fury, Rogers, and Wilson at the graveyard. Although you now only had to contend with a walking boot, Natasha still insisted on driving. You had decided to take your time and spread the trip across two days.
Transitioning your conversations from their base in coyness to honesty was proving about as difficult as you had expected. Natasha truly was trying; she had told you more about her past in the last week than in all the years before.
It was hard to describe how different it felt; you had never had a hard time speaking to each other, conversation always flowed easily. Yet, this was different—it was deeper, more serious. The worry of being too upfront or revealing something too personal was diminished, and it felt as though that small change was already bringing you closer together. Actually, talking about your relationship and your feelings, however, was still the most difficult topic to broach for both of you.
It was early afternoon, and you were just finishing pumping gas, with Natasha inside paying when your phone lit up with a notification for a new text group labeled “Home Invaders.”
Clint- You going to make it here for dinner or what?-
Nat- Depends on when dinner is for you old man-
Rip- and on who’s cooking said dinner-
Nat- definitely that.-
Clint- I forgot how extra annoying the two of your are together-
Laura- all of you are annoying-
Rip- hey now he started it! ETA is 4 hours. -
Natasha rejoined you in the car, passing you a drink as she started back on the road. You processed a few more texts while she drove, Laura asking you to stop and pick up a few things on the way. After sorting out the details, you put the phone down and turned your attention back to Natasha. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat slightly and spoke.
“So we haven't talked about how open we are going to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
She shot you a stern look as she spoke but then blushed slightly when she saw you grinning widely at her.
“You are very cute when you get a little flustered, FYI.”
“I don’t get flustered.”
“Sure, sure.”
The familiar look of lovable irritation crossed her face as you continued.
“We can continue to keep it strictly professional. We don’t have to change how we have always interacted if you don’t want to.”
“I’m not ashamed of you.”
“I don’t think you are, belle. But still... good to know.”
You smiled as you reached out toward her hand. She accepted the invitation and removed it from the steering wheel, allowing you to take it into your lap as you continued.
“I'm not ashamed either, to be clear; I didn’t mean it like that. I would certainly prefer not to pull away when someone else is around, to just touch you when I want to or hold your hand and all that cheesy stuff, but I also don’t mind putting up limits. It’s not like I don't get to be with you like this in private, and I admittedly kind of enjoy that you’re so different when we are alone. I just meant that I’m honestly fine with whatever makes you most comfortable.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure I know what I’m comfortable with.”
“And that’s okay, reasonable even. Plus, I mean, that’s why we chose to come here, right? Sure, it’s a good place to lay low for a while and work out some logistics, but they are also our best friends. They have always been a safe place to just be, and it can probably be that for this too. A good place to figure a lot of it out; without too many eyes on us.”
“Clint is going to be an absolute pain in the ass about it.”
“Oh, certainly. But don't count Laura out either. She is likely to be very smug.”
“Oh?”
“Almost guaranteed. She has been making fun of me about this for literal years. So yeah, I have no doubt that she connected the dots from the moment we contacted them.”
“Oh. I see. Kind of reasonable, I guess. I mean, you were not always the best at being subtle.”
“I’ll have you know I am a very successful undercover agent, which most would say requires much subtlety. She just knows me really well, that's all.”
“Yeah. Sure, sure.”
The remainder of the drive went fairly quickly, and you shared some of the times Laura had cornered you in the past. You had, in fact, arrived just in time for dinner. The kids were excited to see you both, and specifically, Lila had exclaimed “at the same time,” for which you realized she was correct.
Over the years, you had both visited on a fairly regular basis and yet rarely at the same time, and if you were honest, most of the time that had been on purpose. Cooper was adamant that he had greatly improved his baseball skills and was excited to show you. After a couple of hours of them updating you both about all of the intricacies of 10- and 11-year-old life, they were off to bed. You were assisting Clint with the dishes when Laura returned. Standing beside Natasha at the table, she chided,
“Okay, you two…”
You turned to face them, tea towel still in hand, and stole a quick glance at Natasha before Laura continued snidely,
“Do I need to go prepare the second guest room, or are you finally going to admit that this slow burn romance thing is happening?”
You rolled your eyes and gave her an irritated stare as you responded,
“I told you she was gunna be smug.”
Clint, now standing beside you and facing Natasha, looking at each other as she responded plainly,
“The one room will be fine, thank you.”
Clint's eyebrow raised as Natasha took a sip of water before placing her cup back on the table. You couldn't help it as the smile tugged at your lips, your eyes still on Laura as she smiled and turned to Clint.
“All the laundry for a week.”
You scoffed, and Natasha raised an eyebrow, both looking to Clint who raised his hands and responded,
“Sharing a room is not the same as admitting it's happening.”
You and Natasha’s eyes flickered to each other for just a second before speaking in unison as you threw your towel in his face,
“Fine; It's happening.”
Slowly over the week, you had become more comfortable, allowing yourselves to interact more naturally instead of constantly monitoring your closeness. The four of you discussed the details of SHIELD's fall, the congressional hearings you had attended in the days before coming, and what the future may hold for you all. You had even survived watching the kids after insisting that Laura and Clint take advantage of your presence to go on a weekend getaway. The two of you would head into town every so often for a meal or a random activity; you even attended the local chamber symphony once.
Not much had really changed when it came to your feelings about Natasha; however, there was a shift in how you allowed them to manifest. It hadn't taken you long to realize just how much you had been avoiding, trying to push down, and minimize, and you could tell Natasha was feeling the same. It was the subtle differences that you noticed the most, as the apprehension that had been almost constant in your previous interactions diminished, and you simply became comfortable existing around each other, with each other.
You had easily convinced Natasha to come out and watch the sunset with you one evening. Sitting on a blanket atop a small hill about a quarter mile from the house, she held your hand in her lap while your head rested on her shoulder. You felt your heart starting to beat faster as you moved your head, placing a small kiss on her neck before speaking softly,
"Thank you."
"For what, dorogoy?"
You turned to face each other, the sparkle in her eyes immediately lighting up your face.
"For letting me in. I know it's not easy."
She looked down for a quick second before returning her eyes to yours and moving her hand to rest at the front of your neck as she spoke.
"It's not, but you are more than worth it."
You moved your hand up, trailing your thumb across her bottom lip before settling on her cheek.
"Je ne peux pas penser à quoi que ce soit que j'aurais pu faire pour te mériter" (I can't think of anything I could possibly have ever done to deserve you).
"Je pourrais dire exactement la même chose" (I could say the exact same thing).
"You deserve the world."
You leaned towards her, and the tenderness of the kiss consumed your every thought. You both had a hand firmly gripping the other's neck, your fingers running along her scalp as she moved her other hand up your bicep. You suddenly snapped out of the moment as you heard Clint's voice,
"Are they making out over there?"
Pulling away and resting your forehead on hers, a sound of amusement escaped your mouth as you heard Laura's reply telling him to be quiet. Natasha pulled away slightly with a look of confusion, and you looked towards the house, seeing the couple standing on the porch. Clint responded,
"They probably can't hear me from over there anyways."
Upon realizing what must have happened, Natasha let out a sigh of her own and removed her hand from your arm, holding it up above her head with her finger raised, causing both you and Laura to let out a laugh as Clint responded,
"Or you can—okay, okay, I'm going."
You saw his arms raised in surrender as they turned to go back into the house.
You move in to place another brief kiss before asking her to help you up. After tucking her hair back behind her ear, you rest your hands on her hips as you bring her into another kiss. She wraps her arms around your shoulders, and as you pull apart, her wrists rest against you. Your fingers trail the hem of her shirt while hers trace circles on the back of your neck.
“Nat, I, uh, I don’t really know how to describe how it feels to finally just ... be with you; we’ve been doing this dance for a long time, and in the last few weeks, I’ve realized that I spent a lot of that time just trying to push it all down. To deny the seriousness of it, the feelings, the want, the need. And I just... I”
You take a deep breath as the thoughts swirl in your head, and she speaks before you can continue.
“I know,” she smiles. “It’s different. It, umm, it’s a lot. I’m sure you know I was avoiding, well, pretty much everything really, and I’m glad. To not be anymore.”
“Natasha,”
you begin as you move your right hand to her face, gliding it across her cheek before pulling her in for a brief kiss. You pull away just enough to look into her eyes again, smile, and find your head nodding as you bite your bottom lip slightly before continuing,
“I love you.”
Her mouth opens and closes without sound, and her head shakes slightly before she asks,
“You do?”
“I really do.”
You pull her back into you, both smiling into the firm kiss, but it’s only a couple of seconds before she pulls away suddenly, a confused look on your face as she brings both her hands up and holds your jaw.
“I love you too.”
Your confusion turns to a smile, but still, you find yourself looking down. Yet, she wastes no time pulling your chin back up to her.
“I’m not just saying it because you did, Ripley. It, ah, it kinda scares the shit out of me, but I do. I love you.”
You smile and move closer, connecting firmly again as you both pour the emotion of the moment into each other. Your hand roams up her back while she grips your hip tightly. There is no space left between you, neither physically nor emotionally. You pull apart for air and study each other's faces as the light of the sun fades over the horizon.
The first part of the plan went off without a hitch. You had intercepted the vehicle at the airport, the actually assigned escort agent now knocked out and waiting for Chang’s return. She would take them and the councilwoman to a safe house before returning to HQ and helping with the evacuation. You stood outside the vehicle, waiting and listening; it sounded like their bathroom conversation had ended up going fairly well. From what you could tell, they didn’t even have to sedate her. She chose to trust them and Fury, which wasn’t necessary for the plan, but it made things easier that way.
Sure enough, it was no more than five minutes before you saw Natasha walking towards you, of course not looking like herself, and two men in black suits similar to yours walking with her as you opened the rear door.
“Councilwoman, welcome to D.C. I hope you had a good flight."
"It wasn’t the worst, thank you,”
she replied as she entered, one of the men following her and one taking the passenger seat.
You made your way back to the Triskelion. Parking at the front entrance, you looked into the rearview mirror and shared a confident look and nod before she exited the vehicle. Once inside, you continued to head to the garage, donning the comms that were waiting in your pocket.
“Spiders on the way up the spout; how's mission rally the troops?”
Sam’s voice broke through. “Wow, that was cheesy.”
“And hilarious. I'm on my way to the hangar now.”
It was Hill who responded this time. “We are just entering the control station.”
The announcement started just as you made it aboard one of the Insight Helicarriers. Many of the agents paused to listen, resulting in a good distraction for you to make your way across the deck, planting explosives on the Phalanx guns. However, several groups of Hydra agents were already making their moves, and firefights broke out across the hangar. You managed to set six devices before the doors began to open and the ships started to launch, seeing Rogers and Wilson jumping down from the ledge above.
Enemy agents now flooded the deck, and you managed to take out a few before the first carrier began firing on Wilson. You detonated your charges, taking out at least some of the weapons aimed his way before heading to the nearest Quinjet. Once in the air, you saw another nearly take out Wilson and headed that way, taking it out behind him.
“Need an assist, Birdman?”
You maneuvered and took out a few rail guns as Steve checked in on comms, advising he had made it inside; however, Wilson was still struggling to gain access with all the guns on him. You suggested a new access point and moved in front of him as you flew to the underside of the ship, firing through the glass beneath so that he could gain access.
You continued your assault on the artillery and as Steve called for an assist to move to the third carrier you see him thrown off the edge with Wilson in quick pursuit. You take out the enemy agents on the deck who had fired on Rogers and began to make your way over as you heard Sam screaming at the weight of pulling Rogers up. Watching as they begin moving upwards you catch a glint of silver from the deck of the third ship.
It draws your attention and you only have a few seconds to realize it's the Winter Soldier, you turn your fire towards him and begin to advise the others that he is moving to intercept but it's not enough time. He fires an RPG and you pull up just enough for it to hit the undercarriage at the left router. The impact from the grenade causes little personal injury however the jet is another story, as it spins downwards. You manage to have enough control to steer it into the trees across the river although not enough to avoid a fairly head on impact.
You feel pain radiating from your leg and shoulder hearing that Wilson had landed safely himself before passing out briefly. It couldn't have been that long before you came to, the sound of the large ships impacting the building and water stirring your consciousness. You were facing towards the scene as you heard Natashas voice on comms calling out as they collected Wilson and asked where Rogers was. You scanned the area of the third ship, his last known location, as it was breaking apart and sure enough you spotted a body falling towards the water, red white and blue shortly later another followed with a silver arm.
You must have passed out again, as when you snapped back, the former SHIELD headquarters was all but fully collapsed, with dust settling across the area. Feeling a wetness on your forehead, you reach upward, confirming that your head is bleeding, and you hear Natasha again on comms.
“Jensen, we are en route to your location. Do you copy?”
You're still groggy as you unbuckle your restraints and realize your leg may be broken and your right shoulder is definitely dislocated.
“C-Copy. This is Jensen. I copy. I saw Rogers fall.”
You begin to move out of the seat and towards the exit.
“Fall where?” you hear Wilson respond.
“Into the water. We, ah, we have to look downstream,”
you manage to stumble the words out and slide down into a sitting position onto the grass, leaning against the rear of the ship.
A couple of minutes later, an SUV pulls up as a helicopter hovers overhead. Natasha and Maria exit the vehicle and make their way towards you. You gesture to Fury and Wilson in the air as Natasha settles at your side, removing her blazer and using it to put pressure on your head wound.
“He fell right over there from the underside of the third ship and into the water. Probably moving downstream. Land so I can come with you—I can see through the water, and yeah,”
you run out of breath as you stumble through the sentence.
“Your lower leg is broken,” Hill states plainly from your other side.
“Yeah, but I don't need it to see stuff, now do I?”
Both of the women roll their eyes at you, and you look at Natasha, beginning to smile before another pulse of pain shoots through your shoulder.
“Ugh, fuck, Hill, do you want to help me with this?”
You reach your arm out, gesturing to your dislocated shoulder. You all move with understanding, Natasha locking her arm with yours so that you are holding each other's elbows as she presses your undamaged shoulder firmly into the wall to hold you still. Maria takes a firm grasp on your left arm and starts counting down:
“One, two…”
Considering it was not your first time relocating a shoulder, you feel that you should have had more control over your reaction; thus, you find yourself unsure if you had allowed yourself to let out the scream or if you were simply incapable of holding it in. Then, embarrassingly, you pass out yet again.
When you come to this time, you first note that the helicopter is no longer hovering above. Maria is a few steps away talking on a phone, and Natasha is seated beside you still holding pressure on your head wound now with a gauze pad.
“Well shit, how long was I out?”
“About 10 minutes.”
“Dam. what about you though Are you ok? did everything work out?”
You reach out and take hold of her hand.
“I'm fine and yes the mission was a success. You are pretty roughed up here though RJ, this head wound isn't deep but i'm sure you have a concussion and at least a few bruised ribs on top of the rest "
"You know you shouldn't be worrying about me.”
“I do. And yet, you know i will anyway”
She squeezed your hand as you shook your head lightly and shifted your weight before you replied.
“Help me up?”
You were able to stand fairly easily but not without releasing several groans of pain- luckily your broken leg was also the left making it easier to support yourself with a working arm and leg on the right.
“Has that stopped bleeding yet, I need to get in the air.”
“You need medical attention”
“have they found Rogers yet?”
“No”
“then i'll get it after, just wrap it for now”
“Jensen.”
“Romanoff.”
You stared at each other for a moment, and you found yourself a little taken back by the genuine worry she was wearing on her face as you felt your heart beating against your chest. Finally she simply moved your hand to take over applying pressure, with a look of irritation as she turned heading to the med kit sitting on the hood of the SUV.
You moved to catch Marias gaze and motioned tactical signals at her, ‘Regroup. Me. Up. Look.’
She responded with a shake of her head and a ‘Disregard’
However you returned the shake of head. ‘No. Me. look. Faster.’
with a slight shake of her head she finally responded ‘Message Received’
You both nodded as Natasha returned with the cravat bandage and began securing the gauze on your head.
“You are incredibly stubborn, you know that?”
“Takes one to know one, belle, besides you won't convince me that your not worried about him”
“That's not the point”
“Look, I promise,i'll let you properly deal with this later, but first we make sure the whole team is safe”
Her hand rested on your neck as she finished the final knot and you shared a caring look of understanding as you entwined your fingers with hers slightly before pulling away from each other as Maria approached.
Within 10 minutes you were up in the air, sitting on the floor with legs hanging off the edge of the helicopter, rope from the back of the tactical vest securing you to the vehicle. Nearly an hour had passed since the initial fall before you finally spotted him on the river bank. He was unconscious, thoroughly beaten up and sporting several bullet wounds but Alive and so you were both transported to the hospital.
As it turned out Natasha was right; the head injury was minimal; however, several bruised ribs had also caused some internal bleeding, which luckily ended up being non-threatening. Unfortunately, the broken leg was displaced enough to require surgery.
When you regained consciousness, you were admittedly a little surprised to see the bright red hair draped over the chair beside you. A smile spread across your face as you spoke softly,
“Que fait une belle femme comme toi dans un endroit comme celui-ci?” (What's a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?)
“Tu sais, on dirait vraiment que tu ne parles français que lorsque tu veux être encore plus ennuyeux” (You know, it really seems like you only ever speak French when you want to be extra annoying)
Ennuyeux? Et là, je voulais dire adorable (Annoying? And here I was going for lovable.)
She simply smiled at you and gripped your hand on the mattress, joining your fingers together as you looked into each other’s eyes. There was a seriousness and vulnerability showing across her features that was rare.
“Really though, Nat. I mean, I’m happy you're here, but I guess I didn’t exactly expect it.”
“You were, well are, in pretty rough shape. And ah, we did say that once we made it through, we were going to figure out what to do next together, right?”
“Yeah, we did, and honestly, I really hoped that wasn’t just some kind of ‘we might die in a few hours’ kind of talk because I really did mean it, Natasha.”
“Look, I know I really haven’t been super open, at least not very often, but I’d like to try and change that because in case it wasn’t obvious, I do genuinely care about you, Ripley. I didn’t even think of being anywhere else because I needed to make sure you were okay. I really do want this.”
“Me too. I ah, just have one question.”
“Right, yeah, of course.”
You felt her hand hesitate slightly, pulling away from yours for a moment as she looked away, and you let out a small exhale in response as you continued, removing your hand from hers and raising it to her cheek.
“Are you sure I’m not in some drug-induced dream right now?”
She returned your smile with a small shake of her head.
“Yes, I am. This is real.”
“Alors viens ici et embrasse-moi” (Then get over here and kiss me).
You join Natasha standing in front of the full-length mirror, both dressed and ready to go: you in the classic black suit, and her in the fitted blue, just finishing placing the wig on her head. You look at each other only through the reflection as you straighten out your suit.
“Well, here we go. Last official day as a SHIELD agent.”
“Last day of the world not knowing who I really am.”
“Things you’ve done and who you are are not the same thing.”
“Sure, but still, it’s a lot. Don’t get me wrong. I have no qualms about doing it, but it still doesn’t make it feel any less like everything is about to change or whatever.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure. It’s definitely weird to have basically everything that you’ve known for so many years just literally blow up.”
“You ready for that?”
“Although we don’t have much of a choice, I am ready to do it. Yes, ready to figure out what comes after—that one I’m not so sure about.”
“Have you thought about it?”
“A little bit. Not that we’ve had much time, but have you?”
“Yeah. I, uh, I’ve spent a lot of time being the person that people want or need me to be. I guess I kind of just thought maybe I could try to figure out who I actually am.”
You turned to face her, and she does the same, bringing your hands to straighten out the lapel of her suit before placing them on her hips.
“The parts of you that I know about are pretty amazing, so I think that’s a great idea.”
You both smirk a little, and she shakes her head, returning the favor of straightening your lapel before placing her arms on your shoulders.
“And what do you think your future holds, Agent Jensen?”
“I really have absolutely no idea. I mean, surviving the next six or so hours is pretty high on my list, but after that…”
you shrug and let out a thoughtful breath.
“I guess there is one thing that I’ve had on my mind.”
“And you’re gonna keep that on lockdown or…?”
She raises her eyebrows and scrunches her face in that way that always makes your heart skip a beat. You roll your eyes slightly as she runs her fingers along the back of your neck.
“Natasha, I, uh, I really don’t know what to do after all this is done, but I do know that whatever it is, I would like the opportunity to- figure it out- with you. If, uh, that might be a possibility.”
You searched her eyes, a little surprised by your ability to keep eye contact with her in the moment as your brain screamed to look away. You expected her next words to be some kind of mildly snarky joke or even just something dismissive to return you to the task at hand. However, it was a very quick reply as a genuine smile pulled at her lips, and she responded confidently,
“I would like that.”
You realized you must have failed to hide the immediate reaction of surprise crossing your face, as her smile widened and she shook her head slightly, causing you to do the same.
“You really would?”
“Yes, RJ. I really would.”
You both tightened your grips slightly and moved into each other again, harder than usual, as if you were trying to eliminate every ounce of space between you. The kiss was laced with the heaviness of the day and yet felt like a momentary escape as you moved together in the familiar intimacy. As your hands moved along her back, your mind was racing.
Sure, it's been a long time coming, but something about these last 12 hours felt different. It had been years since your first kiss; although they were not particularly frequent during that time, you would even say you felt consistently apprehensive until Milan. Things had slowly started to settle into more of an understanding since then, yet still you never really talked about it. Things happened the way they happened, and you both let them, enjoying the moments but not allowing yourselves to get too attached, too comfortable… or so you thought.
Now in these moments, you realize you had simply been putting off the inevitable, trying to keep the seriousness of your feelings from even yourself, and it had not worked in the slightest. You had fallen hard, but at least it seemed like maybe she was falling too, or at least you hoped, because now you find yourself almost certain that this woman was going to be the death of you, and you were perfectly okay with that.
As you pulled away and rested your foreheads together while you both caught your breath, her hand cupping your face, fingers running over your cheek as yours rested on her shoulder and hip, you moved your head over and down to plant a light kiss in her palm before meeting each other's gaze again as you pulled away.
“Time to get to work,”
she said with a smile as you both moved to readjust your suits.
“And you better be careful up there because I don't plan on losing you anytime soon.”
“Right back at you,”
she replied with a smirk as you squeezed each other's hands before walking to the door and disconnecting from each other before you opened it to find Steve standing with his arm raised about to knock, causing it to fall through the air slightly. Sam standing behind him, let out a brief sound of amusement.
“Lookin' good, Rogers,”
you quipped as you took in his classic suit.
“Surprised that still fits,”
Natasha joined in as she walked past the men, and you all made your way back to the briefing room, ready for action.
After applying the ointment and wrapping the tensor bandage, you reached for the ice pack.
“There is something else significant on your mind,”
you state plainly as you lock into her gaze and activate the pack.
“It’s just... I still can’t shake the fact that I thought I was doing good and it turns out I was just working for Hydra.”
“Natasha,”
you begin firmly as you place a hand on her neck and gently run your thumb along her jawline.
“Even if some of the things we did for SHIELD played into Hydra's plan, we were never Hydra. YOU were never Hydra. You did good, and you’ll keep doing it. Because I know that you are a good person. Natasha Romanoff. You. Are. good.”
You move your hand to rest on her collarbone over her heart as you hold eye contact, remaining for several moments before she closes her eyes and responds softly,
“You know, you keep telling me that, and it kind of feels like I might be starting to believe it.”
“Good. Because it’s true. And I’ll never stop telling you.”
You move in closer and capture her lips with yours once more, moving your hand to the back of her neck with firm pressure. She reacts quickly and almost aggressively as she grips your bicep with one hand and cups your face with the other, her fingers digging into the edge of your jaw.
A sharp knock at the door breaks you apart and you nudge the chair slightly back, placing the ice pack over her knee as she speaks.
“Come in.”
The door opens as you finish taping the ice pack in place, and Rogers speaks from the doorway,
“Sorry to interrupt; I just wanted to check in before you go to sleep.”
“Oh no, all good, Captain. We just finished, and I need to go have a shower, so talk away.”
You get up and move the chair back to the desk before heading towards the bathroom, while Natasha stands and takes a few steps toward the door. You hold up a pinky finger as you close the door behind you.
“And I promise I won’t intrude.”
As you began to run the shower, you could hear their muffled voices in the other room, but you kept the temptation to listen closer at bay, fulfilling your promise. You found yourself slightly surprised at just how relaxing the warm water felt on your skin. Compared to the others, you had gone through little today, and yet you still felt significant tension releasing from your body. As you dried yourself off, looking through what was left in your bag, you ended up donning a standard issue shield training T-shirt and black shorts.
As you re-enter the main room, Natasha is sitting up against the head of the simple bed, scrolling on the tablet. You note the empty injector on the bedside table.
“Glad to see I didn’t have to force you to take the compound.”
“Well, the earlier I take it, the earlier it wears off,”
she shrugs in return as a small yawn escapes her mouth.
Noting the small display of vulnerability, showing that she feels safe with you as you walk forward and she moves to put the tablet down beside her.
“Well, looks like you have about six hours to sleep before we should start prepping, and Lord knows you need the rest, so,”
you lean down and press a brief kiss to her forehead before continuing,
“I’ll head out and get some work done.”
“Do you have work that needs to be done?”
“No,”
you reply with a small shake of your head, understanding the transaction at hand but choosing not to lie or make a joke right now.
“Then stay.”
“Nat, you need sleep.”
“I’d sleep better if you stayed. Besides, RJ, you could use some rest too.”
“Okay,”
you simply give in and nod, moving to the other side of the bed while she shifts down.
You position yourself under the covers, reaching out your left arm so that she can move over it and into you. She rests her head on your chest as you wrap your arm around her back. Tracing your fingers along her spine and side as she rests her arm across your stomach and adjusts into you, accommodating her knee and shoulder injuries as best she can. You find yourself focusing on her breath, aware that she can likely hear your heart beating in this position.
Another light yawn escapes her as she whispers into you,
“So what did you do to stay sane on your boring, boring mission?”
It was common for Natasha to ask you to talk as she faded to sleep, and the familiarity brought a smile to your face in the dark as you responded with your eyes closed.
“Oh, you know, lots and lots of mobile games. But mostly just consumed by thoughts, really.”
“What kind?”
“Well, there is this one woman... that I just can’t seem to stop thinking about.”
“Mmm, is it serious?”
“I don’t know. You see, it was kind of a long time coming, then things got a little, ahh, heated a while back, and it seemed like it was going somewhere. But it wasn’t long after that I got pulled into work, so I haven't seen her nearly as much as I would have liked over the past year. When I do, though, it’s pretty great.”
“Sounds like maybe you need to talk about it.”
“Yeah. The thing is neither of us are particularly good at that part—so I mostly just wonder.”
“Wonder what?”
“If she maybe thinks about me too, when we are apart.”
“I’m sure she does.”
“Yeah? You think so?”
“I know so.”
She moved her hand from your waist to your arm resting beside you, and your fingers slowly intertwined as you pressed a kiss to her head and leaned your temple against her as you both drifted off.
You sat between Natasha and Fury, eating a granola bar while attached to a new blood bag as the doctor finished up her stitches. He had determined it would be worth it to transfuse another pint, estimating she had lost close to three, so of course, you immediately hooked up. The initial reunion was a bit tense; in the end, they were pleased to see he was still alive, but it did not fully erase the anger over the ruse, even if they understood the reasoning behind it.
Once your collection and Natasha's stitches were complete, she was hooked up to the new blood, and you all made your way to the makeshift briefing room to discuss the plan. You can't say you were particularly surprised when Rogers stated that it would all come down, SHIELD included, but it was bittersweet in a way. You had known nothing but SHIELD really, and you still wanted to do good, but he was right; it needed to be done.
Fury looked to each of you for some kind of response. Was he hoping that you would try to fight Rogers on this? Natasha was silent, and you exchanged brief looks of care. Sam was the first to speak:
“Don't look at me; I just do what he does, but slower.”
You couldn't help but chuckle, which drew his attention back to you.
“You know I respect you, Fury, but Rogers is right; we really don't have a choice. If my estimates are even close, at 20-30%, it's way too many, and there is no time to weed through.”
You shared a nod of affirmation with Rogers as he retook the conversation and the plans took shape.
About two hours later, you are all fed, and the plans for the morning are set. Hill and Chang will take care of procuring further supplies while the remainder of the team rests. Natasha and Fury, on the doctor's orders, neither of whom are amused.
“Well, it’s not exactly a luxury hotel, so you two will have to share a room,” you gesture to Sam and Steve as you all prepare to leave the briefing room.
Steve talks with Natasha as you lead the three of them down the hallway, and Sam takes the opportunity to indulge his curiosity.
“So, like, how far can you hear though? Or is that, like, classified?”
“Well, it seems that pretty much everything is about to be unclassified, so who cares? Generally like a block or so but it depends. Like here we have full concrete, so I can hear pretty much everything inside if i want, because of the echoes, but I can’t hear anything outside. It’s also like a muscle, though; lots of training so that I can have control over it.”
“You have to admit that it's pretty cool.”
“Yeah, I mean, it’s neat, but it can also be a pain in the ass. Pros and cons, ya know?”
you shrug, and you both nod as you think you could definitely see yourself being friends with the man.
After a few minutes, you reach the hallway with the rooms. “Here we are; this is Nat’s, and you are two doors down on the right. The joint showers are at the end of the hall there.”
Sam gives you a thumbs up and heads down while Steve stops beside you, reaching out to shake your hand.
“Thanks again, Jensen,”
he nods as he heads down the hall, and you turn to Natasha.
Alone now and the immediate concerns handled, you find yourself slipping into a familiar sense of apprehension as you look at her.
“So, uh, this is where I'm set up, and it has a much better bed as well as a personal shower, so yeah, it’s all yours.”
You awkwardly run your hand across the back of your neck, and she shakes her head slightly before reaching for the handle with one hand and your arm with the other. Once inside, you turn to close the door, and when you turn back, she is right in front of you, her grip still on your arm and exhaustion in her eyes.
Before your mind can catch up, you reach out with your other arm and pull her into a hug. She rests her head on your shoulder and wraps her arms around you as you do the same. You can feel her relax into you, allowing the stoicism of the day to melt away, and you just stand with each other for a few moments.
“I missed you,”
she says, barely above a whisper as your grips lighten.
“Going soft on me, Romanoff?”
you quip playfully as you start to pull apart.
“Could just be the pain meds talking,”
she retorts with a small smile as she meets your gaze.
You reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, resting your hand on her neck.
“I missed you too.”
You take a deep breath together before you continue.
“Okay, I’ll go and get a new ice pack for your knee and supplies for your cuts while you shower. All the supplies, including my clothing bag, are in there, so help yourself.”
You share another small smile before you both turn to action.
You make your way down the halls as your mind fills with thoughts of the future. Tomorrow everything will change. What will you do now? Where will you go? You're fairly certain that Fury will have some kind of offer for you, but whether it will be worth taking is another story.
Then there is Natasha; your relationship, if you can even call it that, has been complicated for years. You can’t help but wonder what would have happened had you not been pulled away so soon after the return from Milan. Yet even though you haven't seen each other much over the last 10 months, it felt like it was going somewhere. Maybe now you could figure that out without the added complication of working together. Then again, that would involve talking about it, and although improving, you were both still pretty bad at that part.
When you return to the room, the shower is still running, and you organize the medical supplies on the small desk. Tablet in hand, you continue to review the plan. It shouldn't be too difficult to overtake the councilwoman's convoy without raising suspicion. You have little doubt that everything will work out… it has to. You hear the shower turn off, and you note your heartbeat quicken slightly.
After a few minutes, she emerges, wearing a simple black tank top and grey shorts, still drying her damp hair with a towel. Scrapes and bruises are scattered along her arms and legs, yet she still looks absolutely stunning.
“If you take a picture, it will last..."
“Longer, yeah, yeah… well, I don't have a cell phone anymore, so…”
you respond with a playful tone laced with a hint of embarrassment for being caught staring.
You grab a handful of supplies and move the chair to rest in front of her as she sits on the edge of the bed. Inspecting the waterproof bandages on her shoulder wound, everything looks to be in order, so you turn your attention to cleaning her minor cuts.
“You could have told me about Fury.”
“I would have, but it was only an hour, and I was directly ordered not to.”
A brief silence fills the space before she continues.
“I almost got blown up, you know. If it wasn't for Steve, I wouldn't be here.”
You look up at her face, filled with genuine worry, before you reply.
“We heard and I did have faith it would take a lot more to get Captain America and the Black Widow off the board… but honestly, I was kind of grateful to have work to focus on because I, um…”
you swallow hard and pause your work, resting your hand on her good knee and looking into her eyes for just a moment before looking away.
“When the report came in assigning the unit to a sighting of you, it was… like my heart was suddenly released from a grip that I didn’t even realize it was under.”
“Who’s going soft now?”
You shake your head as a smile crosses your face, and you look up to see the sentiment mirrored on her features.
“Wow. Yeah, I really just said that.”
“You did.”
She reached a hand to your neck and gently pulled you closer. Your lips met with a softness and vulnerability that wasn’t new but brought with it an understanding. Moving slowly but with intent, you shared your feelings of relief without the need for words.
You could feel the longing of the last two months apart, and you told yourself that you would do your best to make sure it was never that long again. Pulling apart, you leaned your foreheads together for a few breaths before running your hand down her hair and moving to stand, placing a short kiss on her cheek as you returned to the desk and gathered the supplies to wrap her damaged knee.
Finally, stripping out of the tactical vest, you also remove the jacket, leaving yourself in just the plain black t-shirt so your arms are exposed as you rummage through the rear compartment searching for the device you seek. You locate the small black case and confirm everything is accounted for before throwing the keys inside and closing the door, confirming that the screen shows a countdown of 20 minutes. You tear open an alcohol wipe as you walk to the new vehicle, running it along your right elbow joint as you open the door. Getting in and starting the vehicle, you speak,
“Sleeve up, Romanoff,”
You toss another alcohol wipe her way before connecting your seatbelt and turning to her. Her eyebrows are raised in question as you grab the black bag, placing it between you as you begin to open it, and she sighs.
“Jensen, this is unnecessary; I’ll be fine.”
“You will, and we have a half-hour drive ahead of us in which we will just be sitting here, so no point in waiting. Besides, you have lost over a pint since I arrived, so it's likely almost 2 by now, and I’ll be the one giving it to you once we arrive anyway, so as I said, sleeve up.”
You keep eye contact as you open the slim silver device and offer her an elastic strip. You can tell she's frustrated with you and probably embarrassed, although very unlikely to admit it, and you notice the men in the back seat exchanging curious looks. You simply sit for a moment before she finally lets out an irritated huff and takes the elastic from your hand, starting to tie it around her arm as she replies,
“You know, you really are very irritating.”
“I know,”
you respond with a shrug, squeezing your hand into a fist as she knots the elastic, and you rest your hand on her thigh as she pulls out one of the tubes and removes the needle safety. You let out a groan as she inserts the needle.
“You asked for it.”
“Doesn't mean I have to like it,”
you release your fist, opening and closing your hand a few times before resting it back against her and very slightly moving your pointer finger back and forth against her leg a few times while she finishes applying the bandage to secure the needle in place.
Your blood starts slowly flowing through the tube, and you move to tie the elastic onto her arm as she clicks the button on the silver case. The small bag inside starts to shift back and forth as it begins to fill. Natasha pulls out the other tube and closes the case. You secure it between you and shift the vehicle into drive before adjusting your arm to rest on top of the steering wheel so that the connected tube can curve downwards. You pause for a moment to allow Natasha to finish securing her own needle before starting to drive.
Rogers finally speaks up from the back as you pull out from the lot,
“Is that really safe to be doing while driving?”
“Well, honestly, it’s not exceptionally safe, driving or not, but the tech is pretty reliable, so nothing life-threatening,”
you smirk in reply as the device lets out a single beep, cueing Natasha to release the clamp on her side, causing the red liquid to start flowing toward her.
“How do you know you're compatible?” Wilson inquires.
“Not our first rodeo,”
you reply in unison, causing you both to smile slightly and exchange an understanding glance before she adjusts herself and leans back again, closing her eyes.
“So you have also been with SHIELD for some time then?”
Rodgers inquires as you drive down the interstate.
“Indeed. I joined a little under two years before Romanoff, but I didn't have combat training in my previous position, so we ended up in the same field testing group, actually.”
“And I still outranked you in almost every category,” she replies.
“Okay—MOST, but not ALL—to be clear,”
you shake your head as she smirks from her seat, eyes still closed, while Rodgers continues.
“I don't mean to pry, but I do have some questions I would like to ask you, Jensen.”
“Fire away, Cap. Honestly, given our current situation, whatever I can offer to assure you that I've got your back, I will.”
“Not something I would expect to hear from most SHIELD agents.”
“Well, I'm not a typical agent.”
“Yeah, I'm noticing… Speaking of which, when you said you could hear Rumlow, did you mean you had comms on him?”
“No. I meant that I could physically hear him.”
“From inside another vehicle?”
Wilson joined in. You couldn't help but let out a small sound of amusement.
“Yes, Wilson.”
“So you're enhanced?” Steve retorted.
“Yes. My hearing and sight are classified as ‘superhuman.’”
“I didn't realize SHIELD had other enhanced agents. Fury certainly never mentioned it,” Steve continued with slight irritation.
“Yeah, I wouldn't dwell on that one much; I'm pretty sure only about half a dozen people do, and that includes Fury, Hill, and the two scientists that do all the testing and junk. Romanoff here wasn't even supposed to know about it.”
“Not my fault I pay attention and you did a poor job - saying things that came up on comms that you were not connected to,” Natasha chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring her and continuing to speak to Rogers.
“Unlike your abilities, mine are not anything that's particularly helpful in a fight. I simply excel at reconnaissance and marksmanship.”
“Were you given a serum, then?”
“No. It just started when I was a teenager. Apparently, some sort of genetic thing they can't quite figure out yet.”
“I guess I'm kind of surprised they didn't include you in the Avengers Initiative.”
“Ha, well, I'm sure being able to hear and see the aliens better would have been a terrific help to you. I was on the helicarrier, though, just blending in with all the normies.”
You let out a small laugh as the transfusion machine started to beep again, signaling that 15 minutes had passed.
Natasha moved from her relaxed position to look through the black bag as you pulled the needle from your arm and wrapped the tube around the rearview mirror so the remainder of the blood could flow down into the bag. She opened the pill packet, passing you two of the four: one iron and one vitamin C, before downing two herself and passing you the water bottle to do the same.
In another five minutes, the transfusion would be complete, and you were glad to see she was looking a little less pale now, although still actively hiding the pain. You downed the rest of the water and looked back at the rearview mirror.
“Well, we are almost there, Rogers. Anything else you want to know?”
“I am curious what this deep-cover mission for Fury was.”
“Oh, only the longest, most boring months of my life… it was about, ahh, like, eight-ish months ago?”
You turned to Natasha, who was back to leaning her head on the rest but now tilted sideways and looking at you. She replied,
“Nine and a half.”
“It definitely felt like about two years, but yeah, so Fury pulled me off general field duty and had me going out to different SHIELD bases to see if I could pick up on anything. He had suspicions that something was going on but wasn't sure what, or if he did, he didn't tell me any further details. I reported only to Fury or Hill, but there was not much to report, honestly.”
“What were you listening for?”
“That, Rogers, was what I was wondering myself. We had a little system designed to try and catch people either trying to hide something before I arrived or after I “left”, which I mean did work, just not for this whole Hydra thing. I found a fair amount of falsified reports, a large insurance fraud, and several affairs among other mundane issues. He said he had other attempts lined up, which I assume your Lemurian Star mission was. See, the thing is, as great as being able to hear things is, it only helps if things are actually being said, and they really were not.”
“Until LA?” Natasha asked, and you nodded in agreement.
“I arrived at the LA base two months ago, and it was all the same old boring stuff, but one agent caught my eye. A good suspicion, I guess, because yesterday, apparently a short while after Fury was shot, they mentioned the Winter Soldier being activated. So I called it in, and Hill told me to wait for backup communication and be ready to move. A couple of hours later, we re-established communication, and she recalled me back here. Just as we were ending the call, the same agents made their ‘Hail Hydra’ statement. Then I came here, met up with Hill, we set up a plan, and so here we are.”
“There really isn't anything else that you found out about Hydra?”
Steve inquired with genuine intrigue.
“Scout's honor. I wish something, anything would have slipped before, but these folks just were not talking on site, which I did keep telling Fury would be unlikely. It would have been smarter for me to just tail random agents, I think. That's why I was extra surprised when I got back to HQ and Rumlow and his STRIKE gang were all pretty nonchalant about the whole thing. ‘Hail Hydra’ right there on the open street, and they were all talking very openly in their vehicles and even some in the hangar. I had spent time here listening too, and they were not like that before. When I left for LA, there was something different that I couldn't quite place. Now I think they were just more quiet than usual. I should have noticed before.”
“We all should have. They knew what they were doing, and they did it well. All we can do now is put an end to it,”
Steve stated firmly as you all exchanged nods.
Maria was waiting at the tunnel entrance when you pulled up. You helped Natasha along as you all made your way down the tunnel, and she conversed with Rogers and Wilson. After a few minutes, the Doctor appeared jogging towards you, and you briefed him:
“GSW through and through, probably lost about 2 pints, but we transfused one on the way.”
He was eyeing the gauze that was starting to soak through as he responded,
“Okay, I'll take her.”
You and Maria responded in unison,
“She’ll want to see him first,”
resulting in confused looks from all three, Natasha holding your gaze with what you were sure was a hint of disappointment in her eyes.
