[Classified Location], SHIELD Helicarrier
April 2011
The story was flawless. She'd dropped off the grid because she was taking a vacation, as they had agreed four years ago as a reward for her flawless record: four weeks of off-the-record solitary a year. He had never promised to not keep an eye on her during that time, although given the pathetic results of the Widow Watch team's surveillance attempts, he might as well have put the money and manpower into designing healthy Twinkies for all the good it did. And then she'd gotten a tip-off from a friend in SHIELD at a drop point - Barton, probably - and come in just in time to help with the Avengers.
Fury sighed and flipped the report of the Widow's movements off the screen. He'd requested an itinerary from her, which she'd gladly provided, complete with hotel and restaurant receipts, train tickets, taxi slips, and other evidence. Unfortunately, Fury knew that faking every one of the papers in his office and every one of the files on his screen was well within Romanoff's capabilities. And they still had no confirmed surveillance of her anywhere.
It didn't sit right with him.
And now he had Tony Stark's AI on his ship, even if it was restricted - only Stark could turn a cutting-edge bit of software into an annoying smartass - and Foster and Lewis to deal with. He checked the time on his desk. Eight minutes until their arrival.
The team was already gathering in the bridge, at the table behind him. He could see their reflections in the glass of the screens: Rogers and Stark shooting each other glares, Barton unreadable and apparently at ease as usual, Romanoff on the edges and looking dangerous, Banner and his deceptively mild-mannered expression. As Fury watched, Thor strode in with a heavy tread and stood near the head of the table, glowering at the rest of the team.
Stark and Rogers immediately stopped their staring contest and fixed their attention on Thor. That wasn't going to end well. Apparently the only thing that could force those two to play nicely was a common enemy. And Fury really couldn't afford to make an enemy of Thor.
Best to head this off before it began, and before the scientist showed up to complicate things.
Fury put his screens to sleep with a gesture, spun, and marched up the stairs to where they sat.
The door hissed open, and Agent Halley walked in, followed by two brown-haired women.
Fury's glare intensified.
Foster's expression did several complicated things when her eyes fell on Thor, finally settling into a decent attempt at a poker face that nevertheless showed her vulnerability and seething anger. Fury filed that away and glanced at her companion, about whom he knew very little. Darcy Lewis, Foster's longtime assistant and newbie to Stark's PR team, had a smirk fixed on her face as she swept her eyes over every member of the team. It hardened as she cast a dismissive glance over Thor and turned away, clearly designed to irritate the Asgardian. Fury noted with some annoyance that her tactic worked. Thor tensed and shota vitriolic look Lewis' way. Meanwhile, sparks were already flying from Romanoff's eyes as she scanned Lewis, and Tony shifted to face Thor more squarely, protectiveness in every line of his body.
He'd have to make this short. Before this group of very volatile, very powerful people dissolved into a fight that could quite possibly break the helicarrier.
[Classified Location], SHIELD Helicarrier
April 2011
Several of the people in this room dismissed Darcy the second they saw her.
The Captain was one, Banner another, then Barton, and fourth was Director Fury himself. Darcy'd never met the man, but Coulson and Jane had told her plenty, not to mention the scuttlebutt in Stark Tower. (So she was a gossipy kind of girl. It never hurt to pay attention to the rumor mill.)
That was fine. She liked being underestimated.
Stark already knew her well enough to have gotten over his surprise that a brain lurked behind Darcy's sarcasm and her boobs, and gave her a nod before he returned to smirking at every person in the room in turn. Darcy noted how he glared at Thor every now and then. Awesome, she'd have an ally against the God of Muscles and Assholery.
Darcy's skin prickled when she felt the Black Widow's eyes on her.
She deliberately didn't look in the redhead's direction. She'd read the files. Natasha Romanoff was as dangerous as they came, and she clearly saw right through Darcy's carefully constructed facade.
Shit.
"The interrogators are with Loki now," Fury said, announcing his presence with a snap of that melodramatic jacket.
"Good morning to you too," Darcy said, and shot the man a sickly sweet smile. His eye twitched and she swallowed a smirk.
Thor stepped closer to the table. "You have no right to interrogate Loki," he growled.
"Relax, Point Break, they won't touch him," Stark said. "Just asking a few questions."
"He will not answer. Not truthfully."
"Well, that's not your problem, is it?" Stark said agreeably. Darcy knew him well enough to know that agreeable usually preceded extremely combative on the Tony Stark mood scale. She fell into a seat two down from him, Jane between them, and settled in to watch the show.
"It is my problem when he is my charge," Thor snapped.
"Ten pounds of crazy in a five-pound bag? Fun charge." This was from Barton, who apparently still had a bone to pick about Loki's brainwashing of Agent Hill. Darcy had heard they were friends. Or something.
Thor turned his glare on the agent. "Have care how you speak. Loki may be mad, but he is my -- he is of Asgard."
Darcy wondered with interest what Thor had been about to say.
Romanoff shifted posture. Darcy was reminded strongly of a cobra she'd once seen in a zoo at feeding time. It looked totally relaxed and calm as it meandered around the enclosure, right before it struck. "He killed eighty people in three days."
"And your hands have no innocent blood on them?" Thor demanded.
Everyone in the room tensed instantly. Barton's head snapped up, relaxed demeanor vanishing, and fixed his eyes on Thor. But Darcy was mostly watching Romanoff. The Russian agent never moved, but something in her face - a tightness around her eyes, perhaps, or tension in her lips? - gave away her disquiet.
Darcy glanced around and realized that Thor had just made an enemy of everyone in this room, with the possible exception of Fury, who was the only one to not react.
The silence lasted several seconds. Darcy's heart thrummed.
Ohhhh-kay. Time for the poly-sci major to earn her keep.
"Look, this is maybe not the best time to be having this discussion," she said. "We're all tired, tense, and short on sleep, and we can't do jack shit until either Loki spills something juicy or Doctor Banner's instruments find the cube thing. Let's all go... sleep, or sharpen our knives, or whatever supersoldiers do in their down time, and reconvene when we actually have something to talk about." She deliberately didn't make it a question.
Barton shot her an assessing look.
"I agree," said Banner, standing. "I would like to find some food. Tony, would you care to join me?"
"As long as it's not that rabbit food you ate this morning," Stark said, rising as well. "If anyone gets into a fight, make sure it's caught on video."
The doctors left. Romanoff followed a second later, and Fury sighed. "Well, this meeting is well and truly over. Odinson, come with me; we have a spare single room..." His voice trailed off as he led Thor away.
Darcy blew out a breath and leaned back. "Well, that was spectacular. Janey, please tell me we have beds somewhere on this flying theater."
Barton snorted.
"No one's showed me where they are," Jane said. "Or my lab…" She trailed off, looking anxious.
Darcy made an irritated noise. "Of course you want the lab. Go chase down Stark, he probably doesn't even want to eat. Bet you fifty bucks he's already convinced his new bestie to eat something out of a petri dish so they can go straight there."
"No bet," Jane said instantly. "Good idea. Can you…"
Darcy waved a hand. "I promise not to set anything on fire. Go on."
"I hope they have the readings for me…" Jane mused, half to herself, and dashed out the door.
Darcy found herself alone with Barton and Captain America.
"Steve Rogers," the Captain said, holding out his hand.
Darcy shook it. "Darcy Lewis. Do I call you Captain, or Steve, or Mr. Rogers, or what?"
"Capsicle works," Barton said, grinning.
" Capsicle ? Who came up with that?"
"Stark, who else?"
Darcy nodded her appreciation. "Good for him. All righty. Capsicle it is."
The man looked pained. "Can we stick with - first names are common now, yes?"
Darcy smiled cunningly. "That's true, but I make no promises. Steve." Inside, she felt like screaming. She was on a first-name basis with Captain America.
"I guess you can call me Clint, then," the SHIELD agent said, finally tucking his tablet back into his pocket. His words were brusque, but in an exaggerated way that suggested the opposite. "If we're to be teammates."
Darcy made a face. "I'm more like… Jane's handler. Even though I'm not her assistant anymore."
"What do you do?" Barton asked. He seemed to be reassessing her. Darcy pulled her vapid face back on, not sure that she wanted these people to truly see her.
"Oh, some PR stuff for Stark Industries, mostly," she said. "I was Jane's assistant for the college credit, we became friends mostly because she needed someone to remind her to eat, and then once she went to SI I needed a new job. She put in a word for me with Stark, and here I am." Cue the cheerleader giggle.
Clint - wow, okay, calling them by their first names would take some getting used to - gave her a look that said he wasn't buying it. "Huh."
"I think I'm going to go find somewhere to sleep," Darcy said, standing. "Or eat. Whichever happens first. See you around."
"Don't get into trouble," Clint said, grinning.
"Me? Never." Darcy gave him her most innocent smile and flounced out with a deliberate swing to her hips and absolutely no intention of keeping that promise.
[Classified Location], SHIELD Helicarrier
April 2011
Jane didn't know where she was going.
She'd gotten sidetracked calculating the energy requirements of an Einstein-Rosen bridge, and how they might change based on the destination, and how exactly it could be aimed at a location as specific as a balcony, and had it dropped Thor off midair above the Quinjet, in which case, could it just stop and leave someone in empty space? And the questions and formulae spinning through her head so thoroughly distracted her that she looked up and realized she had no idea where Stark and Dr. Banner had gone, or exactly where she was. The corridor was empty and narrow.
Jane bit her lip, looked back the way she'd come, and kept walking. She needed to find someone down here - she vaguely remembered descending a set of stairs, although she couldn't have said how far down she'd come - who could guide her to a cafeteria or the labs. Or did they call it a mess hall here? SHIELD was technically a military program; the agents were, practically speaking, soldiers.
A door flew open just as Jane reached for it and hit her in the face.
"Ow!" She staggered backward, one hand to her nose.
"Apologies," said a female voice. Jane knew from Darcy exactly what an insincere apology sounded like, and this was a gold-medal example.
"Watch where you're going," she snapped, and blinked tears away, and realized she'd just scolded the Black Widow.
Natasha Romanoff stood there and raised an eyebrow at Jane.
Jane glared back.
"I apologized," Romanoff said at last.
"Insincerely."
Impossibly, Romanoff's lips twitched, and she inclined her head. "This is somewhat serendipitous, actually. I was looking for you."
"Can you show me the way to the labs?" Jane asked instantly.
Romanoff snorted and started walking. "This way. You scientists, all obsessed."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Jane said. "And you do realize that obsessed scientists are the reasons you have all those fancy weapons?" She gestured to the concealed weapons lining Romanoff's calves, hips, wrists, and collar. They were cleverly built into the suit, but not enough to fool Jane, at least not when she was looking.
Romanoff shot her an appraising look as they boarded an elevator, but said nothing.
Jane wondered whether the other woman's silence would be unsettling to other people. Possibly. Probably. It should probably unnerve her as well, but then, she never did well with should, and she didn't really care what other people were doing anyway. If Romanoff was just going to stand there and imitate a statue, then Jane would happily go back to hypothesizing about the dispersal of energy when an Einstein-Rosen bridge ended in midair. There would possibly be a sound wave beyond the roaring of the Bifrost that she had heard on several occasions, and likely some sort of kinetic energy transferred to surrounding air molecules. In fact, just the passage of an Einstein-Rosen bridge would probably increase kinetic energy of the air. She'd never had a chance before, but she resolved to set up something to measure the impact of Thor's departure on surrounding meteorological systems. If the Bifrost changed the weather, it was possible that some of the weather systems that more primitive civilizations had attributed to deities were actually caused by the arrival of an Asgardian, or even a member of another nonhuman species-
" Jane ."
"What?" She snapped out of her thoughts and focused on Romanoff, who was staring at her.
"I said your name four times."
"Oh. Sorry. I was thinking about midair Einstein-Rosen bridges and weather systems. Do you think-"
Romanoff held up a hand. "I don't understand the science very well. Save the hypotheses for Stark and Banner."
"Okay," Jane agreed. Hm. Maybe other people might have been hurt by that dismissal. She couldn't be. She didn't really care.
Wait.
"Didn't you want to say something?"
Romanoff smiled. "I was wondering when you'd remember. Yes. You were… involved romantically with Thor, correct?"
" Was being the operative word," Jane said sourly, all thoughts of the Einstein-Rosen bridge chased from her head.
"Good," Romanoff said, to Jane's surprise. "I don't think many members of this team are going to get along well with him."
"And you care so much about this team?" Jane said. "I thought you worked alone."
"Yes. Normally. But I also work for Director Fury, and he's assigned me to this team, which means I will not do anything to jeopardize its integrity."
"So… why did you ask about Thor and me?" Jane asked. This was so not her sphere of expertise: social maneuvering, shifting alliances… She wrinkled her nose. This was exactly the sort of thing she let Darcy handle.
Romanoff led Jane into a corridor that Jane suspected wasn't a normal route. She memorized its location. "I just like to know where all of you stand with one another."
"Knowledge is power," Jane said, remembering something Darcy liked to say.
"Exactly."
Jane examined the other women for a moment. She supposed she should be afraid of the deadly Black Widow, but then again, she should have gone to nursing school, should be married by now, should care more about other people. But being a nurse would be boring, she'd yet to meet a man who could keep up with her, and what had other people ever done for her? Jane couldn't bring herself to fear Natasha Romanoff.
"People underestimate you, don't they?" she asked.
Romanoff's eyes snapped to Jane's so quickly that she could tell the other woman was surprised. "Yes," the agent admitted after a second. "You as well?"
"Mostly they just think I'm a useless spacey scientist," Jane said. She was beyond getting offended by it. Narrow-minded people were not her problem.
Romanoff smiled. "And they think I'm just another pretty face." There was recent bitterness in her tone, but Jane didn't ask. "Your friend, too. Darcy."
Jane tensed slightly. Darcy had once described what she called her "vapid face," a persona designed to make people overlook the mind underneath. Jane knew her friend was extremely intelligent, just in a very different way, but Darcy seemed to enjoy being underestimated. Jane couldn't admit that to Romanoff.
"Often," she said cautiously.
"I'm not asking you to betray your friend's confidence," Romanoff said. "Just stating a fact."
A true one . Jane liked facts.
"Here you are," Romanoff said abruptly, and gestured to a small door. Jane looked at it and then back at the agent.
"That doesn't look like a lab."
"It's a back door," Romanoff said, smiling faintly. "I do have other things to take care of, Miss Foster, and this was faster than going around to the main doors."
"Jane," Jane said immediately. "Call me Jane."
Romanoff looked at her for a moment. "If you call me Natasha. We ought to stick together. Now that we have a common enemy. Enjoy your science."
She turned and strode away.
Jane stared after her long after Natasha's red hair and black tactical suit had vanished. The entire encounter had been odd, from the question about Thor to that weird parting sentence. Was Thor the common enemy, or Loki?
Jane couldn't shake the feeling that something important had just happened, but she couldn't for the life of her work out what. There was some subtext, some multilayered game of behavioral economics being played here, and Jane was missing it.
She'd have to run it by Darcy later.
But for now… Jane turned, shoved open the door, and found herself in the back corner of a large and well-lit lab packed with cutting-edge equipment. Thoughts of social games fading from her mind, she smiled and set off to track down the data they'd called her in for.
[Classified Location], SHIELD Helicarrier
April 2011
Clint found her where he expected to, in the bowels of the ship by the clear bay windows.
"Stewing?" he asked, because he knew her.
"Pissed?" she asked, because she knew him.
Clint snorted. "If this team manages to work together long enough to find the cube, it'll be a miracle, much less fight off a horde of aliens."
Natasha nodded and went back to staring out the window. Clint stood beside her in silence, watching farms and forests pass beneath the cloaked helicarrier.
"Do you ever wish for that?" he said after a minute, gesturing at a swath of tilled fields. "A normal life, I mean. A home. Kids."
Natasha turned her gaze on him, and Clint was reminded suddenly and forcefully that this woman was decades older than him, that she was in some ways something not human. He instinctively tensed when he saw the old and predatory darkness looking out of her eyes. It was something Natasha normally kept well hidden.
"A normal life isn't an option for people like me," she said softly, and turned back to the window.
Clint forcefully reminded himself that she was his friend. "That's not an answer."
Natasha was silent for long enough that Clint began to think she wouldn't answer. Then she sighed and at last turned away, dark side tucked away once more. "No."
"And you think you should."
"At the end of the day, I like this life," she said softly. "I'm psychologically and genetically wired for one thing, Clint, and that one thing does not involve children, or soccer balls, or minivans."
"Well," Clint said, "good thing there's SHIELD, then. So you can keep on doing this and you're on the side of the good guys." He grinned at her.
"You know I'm just waiting until… until I find my Soldier," she said softly.
Clint felt a shiver go down his spine, and concealed it. Never once in the years he'd known her had Natasha shown interest in anyone, man or woman. He'd never been interested in her, either, and good thing, because she'd finally told him five years ago about the man she'd once loved. Clint had his doubts that the Winter Soldier was who Natasha remembered. Rumor in the intelligence community was that the Winter Soldier was a ghost, a legend, someone larger than life. And still operating. If he'd never so much as contacted Natasha, it was doubtful that he still cared for her. Or remembered her at all.
But his Tasha wouldn't hear it when Clint raised those concerns, so he did what a good friend would do and helped her on her so-far-fruitless search.
"And how's that coming?" he asked, flippantly but softly. This was the loading bay, and the cameras didn't have audio, but you could never be too careful. Fury overcompensated for his one missing eye with thousands of the electronic kind all over SHIELD facilities.
Natasha raised an eyebrow. "You going to tattle to Fury?"
"You know I wouldn't."
"I do," she said. "Which is why I am going to tell you truthfully that I have a lead."
"Really."
"Yes. Old KGB contact." Natasha's smile was nothing short of feral.
Clint turned to her fully. "Yet you're still here." He knew how much this meant to her.
"My contact is meeting me in a month," Natasha said quietly. "He says he can tell me where I can find the Soldier."
"Need backup?" Clint asked.
Natasha squinted at him. "I wasn't going to ask."
"But you're not going to say no, either, because we're friends," Clint said, and smiled.
Natasha considered him for a long moment, then nodded sharply.
Clint watched her walk away, and wondered where exactly this was going. Chaos, probably.
He couldn't wait.