Marvel one-shots

56. Skills - Avengers

"No," I denied the offer simply.

"It wasn't a request Miss Y/L/N," Nick Fury replied.

I raised an eyebrow.

"You're joining the Avengers. They could use your skills, and it would be a chance to prove to me your loyalty," he continued.

"You think that just because I used to be Soviet that I'm still loyal to them?" I questioned.

"You only defected a few months ago," Fury pointed out. "Go pack your things from your apartment and Agent Hill will pick you up at 2pm. There is a file waiting for you there."

I sighed and turned to leave Fury's office. As I got to the door, I turned.

"Can I request one thing?" I asked.

Fury gestured for me to talk.

"Depends on what it is," he replied.

"Don't tell them where I came from."

Fury studied me for a second, so I added, "Especially not Romanoff."

He nodded.

"They'll be glad to have you."

Some time later, I was indeed picked up by Agent Hill.

"You got all your stuff?" she asked as I got in the car and chucked a backpack on the back seat.

"Yeah," I replied. "That's all I've got. Little belongings mean less to run with if you ever find yourself on the run."

"You learnt that in Russia I assume?" Maria guessed.

"Mhm."

When we arrived at the compound, I was shown to my room by Tony Stark. Once alone, I finally read the file I'd carried with me since I got back to my apartment.

Supervisor: Natasha Romanoff
Training: Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff
Medical: Dr Bruce Banner
Finance: Tony Stark

"Damn you Fury," I muttered under my breath after seeing Natasha's name not once, but twice.

I looked up as I heard a knock on the door.

"What?" I asked, putting the file down and instinctively grabbing the gun I'd packed, tucking it in the back of my waistband.

The door opened and a woman with shoulder length bright red hair and green eyes was stood behind it.

"Y/n, yes?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, watching me. I wiped any emotion I was showing off my face and held her stare.

"Based off the gun in your waistband, I assume you don't exactly trust me," she said.

I tilted my head, acting confused.

"You're good," she commented. "Very familiar though."

I felt myself go pale. I knew the woman had noticed - how could she not? But she introduced herself rather than interrogating me.

"I'm Natasha, your supervisor," the red-head introduced.

"Why do I need a supervisor?" I asked curiously.

"Fury told me you'd previously been involved with a communist party elsewhere in the world and he wanted me to keep an eye on you," Natasha replied.

"He told you where I came from?" I asked with frustration.