Manipulating Mischief

Chapter 11 - Helicarrier

A torture chamber was a dream compared to the time I spent on the quinjet. The whole time, Coulson was practically swooning over the Captain, attempting to impress him - which I found to be rather difficult on my end - and make plenty of conversation. He even decided to make a moment or two awkward for not only Steve, but the other passenger he decided to neglect.

In a way, Coulson had the comical resemblance of a fangirl trying to be subtle, but was failing miserably.

This is the one moment I wish I had social media.

My natural reaction would be a rehearsed laugh that sounded as if it were meant to be subtle, but loud enough for them to hear and suddenly become conscious of my presence. However, I was not too keen of the character in which this admiration was imposed upon.

In this case, I was just annoyed.

We were headed east over the ocean towards a ship supposedly larger than the one we occupied. It was a SHIELD base - so my theory was - located somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, which meant a nice, long ride with Captain old school and Agent fangirl.

I took pleasure in studying the notes of the mission, educating myself of the knowledge of the Tesseract and reading over Dr. Eric Selvig's notes. It doubled as an effort to block out the sickening display of one way admiration.

After what seemed to be hours, we landed on what they called a helicarrier: a ship of massive size that dominated the dimensions of any Navy charter or cargo hold.

My first step made my whole body tingle. It was my techno senses reading the contents of this massive vessel. The structure within was vastly detailed, extremely complex and full of technology I was only familiar with on a minimal basis. But I knew them by name and understood basic function.

Of course the reading was blurred through my boots, but it was beautiful work nonetheless.

Black Widow was the first one I spotted on the landing deck. I knew her short, red hair billowing in the ocean breeze anywhere, and believe me I was beyond excited to see her.

Thank goodness. A familiar face.

I immediately advanced in her direction, sending off my bag to one of the agents that greeted us upon arrival. "Romanoff."

"Jackie," she returned the acknowledgement. "Welcome to the helicarrier."

"Thanks," I said relieved.

"How was the ride?"

"It was..." I glanced over my shoulder, glimpsing Steve, "how do I put this nicely? An experience."

"Making friends?"

I rolled my eyes.

She chuckled lightly. "I didn't bruise you up too bad did I?"

"Nah, just the black eye and the brow. You've done worse."

"Good."

"Besides, every scar is a new story to tell."

"Looks like it's healing well."

"Just a little sore. I'm sure it'll be gone soon."

We had that type of relationship. On the training mat it was all blood and sweat. Outside the training room, we talked casually over my latest injuries and made casual conversation as best as we could. I was constantly interested in her latest missions and which secrets she was able to uncover.

Otherwise, neither one of us shared a similar lifestyle, therefore there wasn't much to discuss between us. The only thing we shared was on the mat.