Whatever It Takes

Chapter 9 - Peace Offering?

Washington, 2010

Sitting at your desk, you feel a wave of exhaustion take over. Rubbing your face to try and keep yourself awake, you look at the clock. 11pm, you decide it's time for one last coffee. "One more hour, then bed." You look over at the small camp bed you've laid out, deciding to sleep here tonight instead of the long drive home. Fury could have at least made you're commute to work a little lighter. You sit for five minutes while you're body catches up to your brain that it needs to move, it needs caffeine.

The coffee machine in the hallway is horrendous, if anything its just black water, but it'll be enough to keep you going for another little while. Plus, it's an excuse to stretch your legs. The last couple of years have been the least active you've been since you can remember. All you are now is a bonafide computer geek, labouring through files day after day. Not exactly the 9-5 Dolly Parton promised, but's it's something.

If anything you most enjoy the peace and quiet. Thanks to Fury, there are only a handful of people who know of your existence here, and what it is you actually do. Most of the others just assume you're like them, just crunching numbers/data, and sending it on its way. Sometimes they knock, asking if you'd like to join them for lunch, but once met with your steely stare, they back off. Part of you wants to join them; the other part of you is terrified of trying to talk to new people. It was different in your old line of work; those people were tools to be used, a way in. But now, with your small amount of freedom, the thought of letting anyone even remotely close to you scared the shit out of you. Currently the only exception to that rule was Agent Phil Coulson, and that was mainly because you didn't scare him, but also because he just exuded the good in him. The late night pizza drop offs were also a personal highlight, and a small stepping stone on the journey to your heart. Clint Barton was a good man too, but your heart could never fully forgive him for taking Natasha away from you.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" A voice laughs as you walk back into your room, immediately you drop the coffee cup and raise your gun, pointing it towards the sound. You swear at yourself when you realise its Natasha. "Relax," she puts her hands up in the air with a smirk on her face, whilst also slouching back in your chair, feet up on the desk.

"Are you fucking kidding?" You tuck the gun back into the small of your back. "What are you doing here Natasha?" You grab a dirty t-shirt from your bag and start mopping up the spilt coffee, slightly happy that it's gone, you were dreading drinking it.

"Came by to see an old friend. Although I don't know if she wants to see me, since she's been avoiding me for nearly a year."

"You never could take a hint." Throwing the dirty shirt into the bin, you walk over and hit her feet, encouraging her to get them off your desk. She nearly takes a pile of folders with them, but you manage to catch them before they hit the ground, anxiety hitting in in case they've been shuffled out of order. You stand up straight and tower over her as she sits. "Seriously, what are you doing here?" She moves back to reveal two large takeaway coffee cups sitting on your desk behind her.

"How about a peace offering?" She hands you one. You can't deny the smell is so inviting, and you desperately need it. You walk over to your camp bed and sit down, savouring the smell before taking a sip. Exactly how you liked it. "Better?" She asks as you raise a hand before taking a bigger sip than last time, the caffeine instantly relaxing you.

"It's a start," you say, tapping your fingernails on the top of the cup. You're nervous. You have been avoiding Natasha for a while now, but probably not for the reason she thinks. Hell, you don't even know what she's thinking right now. But Fury had asked you to keep your distance from her. He didn't want anyone to know what you were doing, especially Natasha. You didn't know if it was because he didn't trust her, or simply because the less people who knew what you were doing the better. Whatever the reason you decided not to question it.