~*~
It was in Budapest when looking down the shaft of an arrow, I was first asked about my lesser known talents. The confusion in Natasha's eyes did not in anyway distract from the fight we were both in the middle of. Not that it stopped her from asking odd questions.
"How did you not break from that height?"
It threw me a little at first. "I don’t understand," shouting over the gunfire, "which height?"
I turned just as Natasha gave a light jerk of her head toward the broken window in the building opposite us.
On the sixth floor.
I bit back a grimace, "I'll tell you later," when we're alone was left unspoken. "Let's finish this up first."
~*~
Two weeks later Natasha cornered me outside a cafe in Germany. Though no words had passed her lips, her questions rang loud and clear. I decided to give her part of the truth.
"I don't have parents, not in the biblical sense. I was 'conceived' in a lab."
Natasha blinked, clearly not expecting my answer. She sat in slightly confused silence waiting for me continue.
"Sure, I was originally put in the care of a person who raised me as her own. It was nice, but the one person I might share DNA with died some time ago, long before I existed."
Tilting her head, Natasha spoke after a few moments of quiet, "You said one person. What of your other biological parent?"
I shook my head, "I don't have one, just the dead guy. No mother to speak of."
"But then how. . .?"
"Synthetic womb," I said, watching amused as her brow scrunched in conflicting thoughts. "They didn't want to risk cross contamination with a second genetic donor."
"Cross contamination of what?"
"They wanted something in my 'father's' biology that made him better, better than anyone. The doctors theorized that the unique attributes I was going to inheret would dilute naturally, but there was no way to tell by how much. And having a normal person's DNA might dilute it further or dominate over my father's. It might even try to purge it as a foreign substance. They couldn't risk that so they made me the only way they could."
The same pinched look remained on Natasha's face.
"Think invitro fertilization and cellular cloning mixed."
The blank look that came over her face was the only sign that she was starting to understand what I was saying.
"Yeah." I took a sip of my now cold chocolate.
We spent another half hour sitting, watching the people go by. Both deep in our own thoughts yet neither willing to lower our guard.
~*~
It took a month before Natasha sought me out again. She found me on the range, destroying eveyone else's high marks. From throwing knives and handguns to fully automatics and sniper rifles. I even hold top marks for RPGs.
S.H.I.E.L.D. really does have the best toys, everything a girl could want.
"What exactly did you inheret?" Her eyes never leaving my target as I filled it with arrows. "Bone structure that can withstand an over fifty foot drop and near perfect nightvision, what else?"
"Thick skin." She snorted at my comment. "No, seriously, more durable, like wearing leather gear. And I age a lot slower then anyone around me, healing factor. My skin heals fast and in such a way that I'll never scar, I don't even bruise often. I get first degree burns where I should have seared my skin off."
I watch her face from the corner of my eye as the memory surfaces. How I had somehow managed to pull a peice of burning metal off of some trapped civilians. She'd been three buildings over when the bomb had gone off. She hadn't hesitated when my comm got fried, just ran. Her and Phil had arrived at the same time to see my act of heroism.
Even with only minor burns they had both thrown their own version of a hissy fit when I had avoided receiveing medical treatment.
Letting Natasha think over everthing to herself, I slip out of the range quietly.
She'll come find me when she was ready to know more.
~*~
I had another few months on my own before Natasha let her curiosity about me come to a head. The fact we were both on separate missions helped.
I was just coming back from debrief about my lastest mission playing bodyguard. I barely took more than two steps toward my bunk when the door slid open and she walked in.
After a few minutes where I collapsed on the blankets and got comfortable, Natasha sat on the floor beside me and collected her thoughts.
"What else?"
"Another 'blessing' of my less than natural origins is having HSAM, Highly Superior Autobiographical Memory. Most people are barely able to remember the first few years of their lives, I however can remember up to the first few weeks before my birth. There was a lot of pain and loud noises." I said the last part more to myself. "It's how I know I'm not just naturally gifted. I spent my first month of life trapped in a lab being tested for... possible enhancements. After that first month the man who commissioned for my conception came to see how much progress was being made," I couldn't hold back the flinch as the memory hit me. "He had wanted a male specimen because at the time women weren't exactly considered soldiers. He wanted his own little army of enhanced soldiers. It hadn't been a total loss for him, I could still be useful. Birth from a natural womb would increase the chances of survival for the other subjects."
Natasha's sharp intake of breath drew my eyes to hers. Other than the wide eyes she gave no other sign of distress.
I had decided to get some of the big stuff out of the way. No point in stopping now.
"When one of the 'doctors' told him I was unable for such use due to having been made from only one genetic donor, he got kinda upset. If I couldn't be of use then there was no reason to keep me as I was. Better to be studied on an autopsy table where they could find out why I had lived and the others didn't. None of the people there argued, except one, Dr. Grace Sappler," I could feel my lips twitch at the memory of her talking to me, telling me it was going to be okay. "I had been placed in her care from day one. She couldn't stand the thought of me being terminated, she knew that I was aware and understood what was going to happen to me. So she took us the day before I was to be put down."
"Us?"
"There was another one, different donor, he was schedualed to be terminated after me. He'd been made before me with two biological donors, he was too diluted to bother keeping. So she stole us both. Just took our hands in her's to do a check up, like usual, then walked out. No one even noticed us."
I watch as the back of Natasha's head tilts. "We were aged prematurely into kids so we could be properly tested for any enhancements. I looked barely eight and he looked eleven."
"It took about three days of non stop driving to make it far enough for her to relax a little. She said she was going to hide someplace no one would think to look, with her ex husband's sister. Carol was married so even if they looked for anyone matching Grace's married name, they wouldn't find her. But there was an accident and we got separated. We ran, posing as siblings on a walk whenever anyone asked. We came across a circus a few town over."
"The ringmaster's sister, Edith, was more than happy to have kids to dote on, didn't even question the obviously fake names and ages. Didn't even hesitate to go to the nearest hospital to file all the needed paperwork to make us hers. Five hours later and we were officially the Barton siblings."
Natasha had climbed on to the bed as I spoke, curling into my back as I turned on my side.
"Grace died a week later in Miami. I didn't find out until years later after I joined S.H.I.E.L.D.. She had told them about the experiments, but not where either of us was. By the time S.H.I.E.L.D. found her, she had jumped from seven stories when she'd been cornered by the project's security. The bastards were arrested along with the rest of those involved. It's in the database that there were two subjects missing from the project that they were never able to recover."
Natasha chuckled, "I'll bet."
~*~
I got a three month reprieve from Natasha, before she confronted me in the middle of sparring with Phil.
"Sixteen."
Phil and I look to one another then back to her, neither knowing what she's talking about.
"You were born in December of 1989, you're sixteen years old," she waited until understanding crossed our faces to continue. "That means you were barely seven when you were recruited in '97. How does something like that happen? Doesn't your country have child labor laws for things like this?" her head tilted as she looked at us both.
I bit back laughter while Phil fidgeted, rushing to explain, "Agent Barton's actual age isn't on record anywhere, we looked. And in my defense, not only did she not look her age, who would think a child carried the title of one of the worlds best marksmen or be on her way to being a top mercenary?"
"How long have you known?"
"Uh, well," Phil blushed and looked away from us both, "that's... complicated."
"About a year after I joined, mother nature paid her first visit. Phil was my handler, the only person I trusted, so I went to him for help. He had that same look when I asked him to buy me feminine products," I snorted at the sight of Phil turning beet red, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "He asked why I couldn't go get my own like I had before I joined S.H.I.E.L.D.. I told him I hadn't started yet, everything else had been developed early but not this. Phil thought I was a late bloomer at first. I told him otherwise. Nine is a very young age to start one's menstral cycle."
Phil choked on air at those words, drawing the attention of the other agents in the private gym.
"If you have any more questions about my development, I think we should find some place more private," I said loudly, smiling as I walked away.
Both followed me out into the hall, neither talked until we reached our destination.
Phil's quarters was bigger than most, a given as he is one of the most calming and successful agents S.H.I.E.L.D. has.
"Before you can ask, yes, Phil knows I'm more than above average. It's why he sometimes runs interference when I'm told to deal with the medical staff." I saw Natasha sit at Phil's desk, looking to Phil. "While he knows more about me than anyone, he's asked me not to share the details. Doesn't want to risk a conflict of interest."
I look Phil in the eye as I speak, "Since Budapest, Natasha has been 'curious' about my unique skill set."
Phil's eyebrows hit his hairline.
"I trust her," I shrug at his unspoken question.
"Okay then," Phil turns to Natasha, smiling brightly offers his hand, "Welcome to the family."
~*~