protected || natasha romanoff [DISCONTINUED]

how to run from the mess you've made

i wake up with a jolt. another nightmare, not that i'm surprised. the only reason i went to bed was because clint threatened me. i roll out of bed with a sigh, braiding my messy hair back- there's no point in trying to get any more sleep.

i get changed into sweatpants and one of clint's t-shirts, hiding a pistol underneath the bulky pants. i shrug my leather jacket on overtop and grab my keys, wallet and phone. i'm in one of my apartments- it's nice to be back in my web, and being alone is familiar, but i don't know if i like it anymore.

i get outside and walk down the street. probably not smart, but i don't really care. i make it to a bar and slide onto one of the stools. i look like shit. oh well.

"surprise me," i ask the bartender, my elbows on the table.

"natasha?" someone asks from behind me. the voice is familiar... coulson.

i spin around, my signature smirk on my face. "what's a gentlemen like you doing out so late?"

"work," he says. not that i expected anything else from him.

"you must be busy," i say, taking the drink from the bartender. i barely glance at it before taking a large sip, raising my eyebrows at my handler.

he sits down next to me. "you wanna talk about it?"

i know what he's talking about. "anyone ever tell you're a dad?"

he laughs. "that's a no. but drinking your problems away won't help, okay?"

"why do you care," i mumble, picking at my thumbnail.

"it's my job," he says, and i can't tell if he was joking or not.

i take another sip of my drink. "well, i'm sure you've read my file."

"it's not gonna be like that, natasha."

"that's what they all say," i mutter before downing the rest of my drink. "wanna do shots before you bang me?"

"natasha." he puts one hand on my shoulder and i push it off. "i'm not going to take advantage of you."

i look away from him. i hate how vulnerable i feel. "yeah, right. it's practically in the job description."

he stops me as i wave down the bartender again. my phone buzzes, so i don't fight him on it. i check the message, and it's from fury.

you aren't answering your pager. get your ass down to base.

i send him a smiley face and then get out of my seat. "duty calls."

"i'm assigned to all the same missions as you. fury's not the most patient."

i roll my eyes and pay for my drink. coulson follows me out of the bar and down the street. "you gotta ride?"

"yes," he says, pointing to an SUV. i get in the passenger's seat. "and no, barton won't be joining you."

i don't reply, i just put my feet up on the dash. coulson doesn't try to talk to me the rest of the drive.

when he pulls up at SHIELD's headquarters, i get out of the car, suddenly hyperaware of my outfit. i've gotten plenty of weird stares before, but still. i look especially gross next to coulson, in his suit as usual.

fortunately though, he's given up on talking to me. we take the elevator up to fury's office, where the director is already waiting for us.

"agent romanoff, agent coulson. nice of you to join me."

if it were clint or peggy, i would've said some snarky comment. "sorry, sir. i didn't have my pager with me."

"you should've. you're lucky this isn't time sensitive."