protected || natasha romanoff [DISCONTINUED]

being selfish (featuring clint)

clint finds me in the gym, as usual, a shit-eating grin on his face. i wonder how hard he had to look. as soon as i got access to the gym full agents work out in, i've barely left. he has a cupcake in his hands- vanilla, with strawberry icing. "congratulations," he singsongs.

"what's the cupcake for?" i ask, stepping off the treadmill. my breath is coming out in short gasps. i tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear.

"come with me," he says.

"clint, i look gross," i protest, wiping my forehead with the bottom of my shirt. but i still follow him out of the gym and into an elevator.

he presses the a button without a word- normally he's not this quiet. clint puts the cupcake in his left hand and grabs my hand with his right. is something wrong? maybe i should know, so i won't ask.

when the doors open, he pulls me down the hall. this is where the agents that live on base stay, isn't it? we stop in front of a door and a key is dropped into my hand. i glance up at clint and he nods. i open it and... yep, it's just a condo.

"it's all yours," he says.

"but i'm not-"

"you are now. i pulled a few strings, and congratulations on your first mission, agent romanoff."

agent romanoff. that's me. i wipe the smile from my face. "thank you, sir."

"you're allowed to be happy, nat," he says, patting my shoulder.

"did you think i would fail?" i ask, hiding my excitement. i did it. i'm a good enough person. i'm going straight, and i can leave my past behind me. "i've done a lot more for a lot less."

his hand slips back into his pocket. "nat..."

i clasp my hands in front of me. "will that be all?" i ask politely.

"there's a debriefing packet on your nightstand, and clothes in your drawers." he slams the door on his way out. and he didn't leave me the cupcake.

i shake my head. but i walk to my bedroom- it's a nice apartment, on the smaller side, but bigger than i expected. i pick up the packet. i take it to the kitchen and throw it down on the counter. i check in the cupboards, but of course i have to go grocery shopping. it's been a while since i've done that. i lean on the counter and open the file. a lot of it is blacked out- not much of a debriefing packet.

peter langhorst
born: may 31, 1933
nationality:

HYDRA operative credited with deaths since
last seen in seaside, oregon, on september 7th, 1985. wearing a leather jacket, black t-shirt, and jeans.

the rest is unreadable. that date, though... that was three days ago. SHIELD must be behind, and they definitely won't want to admit it. i'm loyal to them, though, so i won't use this information. i flip the page. there's a picture pinned to this one, it's grainy and black and white, but it's of a man's face. it must be peter. the rest of the page is detail on the mission. it seems pretty straightforward, but i don't know much about how SHIELD runs. we'll have as much time as we need, though, which will be nice.

i close the file and hide it under my mattress. i don't know if i'm supposed to pack anything, i'm not even moved in yet. and i'm still sweaty. shower first, ask questions later. actually, no i won't. i should know what to do. if i do the wrong thing, i'll just play it off.

-

agent barton knocks on my door the next morning. i've been up for hours- it's not my fault i'm wired to wake up at four. i've already suited up, even though i don't have any weapons. i glance up from the newspaper i'm reading.