The Shadow [a marvel fanfiction]

Before: Chapter Five

An apologetic Director Fury was a lenient Director Fury.

With Agent Barton's persistent urging and Agent Romanoff's hesitant agreement, everything changed in the last four months. They transferred to a helicarrier (Agent Rumlow not included), Marie received her own room, she only trained with Agents Barton, Romanoff, and Hill, and she was finally given a clean bill of health.

Marie became accustomed to her S.H.I.E.L.D. surroundings; the dull colors, side-eyed glances, whispers, and rigid routines. She kept to herself and stayed out of the way. She was the odd one out, seventeen and special. One agent referred to her as Director Fury's "pet project."

Shadow mimicry, telekinesis, force-field generation, and accelerated healing were her confirmed powers. The Director hadn't dared to probe her about her powers after "The Incident," as it was referred to in her records. He put her through normal training and only asked indirect questions about her life—not that she told him much.

"Keep your abdomen covered. That's your weakest spot."

Marie nodded, hands on her hips as she breathed slowly. Agent Romanoff was an intense trainer. She was direct and unrelenting in her fighting yet moved as if she were dancing.

Sleeping in her own room was strange. Marie often found herself lying in bed and imagining Romanoff quietly turning the pages of her book. The silence rang in her ears until she grabbed her own book, supplied by Coulson, to read and eventually pass out from exhaustion.

"One last time, then I want to try something new," Agent Romanoff said, settling into a crouch.

Marie held her fists in front of her face and lowered her arms to cover her sore stomach. She kept herself light, analyzing Romanoff's stance and movements and waited for her to strike; specifically eyeing her right leg, which she favored for a quick snap to her ribs.

The spar lasted five minutes, the longest Marie had ever held out on Romanoff. In the end, as always, she lay flat on her back staring at the ceiling and wondering what happened.

"That was better." Romanoff helped her off the mat. "You've gotten quicker."

"Not-Not-Not quick enough," Marie muttered, stretching her sore muscles. The agent only smirked and moved away.

"You ever practice with knives?"

Marie shook her head as Romanoff pulled a pair off her belt. The fluorescent lights glinted off the sharp edges. She effortlessly twirled them around her hands, making several stabbing motions.

"They're a good skill to have, easy to use as a surprise in hand-to-hand and easy to hide on you. If you can master them, you could use them on distant targets if you run out of ammo. With your powers, you could easily slip behind someone and—"

Agent Romanoff slashed the invisible person in front of her.

Marie bounced on her toes. She had only trained with hand guns, but she hated them. The cold metal was uncomfortable in her grip, no matter how many types Agent Hill gave her, and she couldn't adjust to the recoil.

"Stealth-Stealth is good."

Agent Romanoff showed her a variety of movements and adapted her previous training patterns to incorporate knives. Marie itched to hold the knives and her jitters were obvious.

"You need to know how to defend against them before you can use them," Romanoff said, the barest hint of a smile pulling at her lips. "If you understand the defensive measures, you can learn how to get through them."