The Final Obstacle
S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, November 2006
“Agent Barton, step in here please."
Clint followed Coulson into his office and spotted Director Fury behind Coulson’s desk. Clint hesitated half a beat before he walked in and sat down across from Fury. Coulson followed him in and perched on the desk, crossing his arms and looking down. Clint had hoped for an assignment - he was bored as shit training this new crop of recruits, save Natasha - but he had a feeling that’s not why he had been called on the carpet.
"Director? What’s up?”
Nick Fury rocked back in Coulson’s chair. “Agent Barton. I like to consider myself a fair man, and an honest man. And I’m man enough to admit when someone else is right and I’m wrong.” Clint waited to see what he would say next. He'd worked for Fury a lot of years, and he usually knew to keep quiet. “You were right about Romanov. Thus far, she seems to be an agent of exceptional quality. Her interrogation simulations are the best any of us have ever seen, her aptitude tests are off the charts, she's never lost to a female agent in hand-to-hand sparring and has beaten all of the men at least once. Including you.” Fury gave him a crooked grin, apparently intending to get a rise out of him, but Clint didn’t flinch. He knew they expected him to be humiliated, but he wasn’t. He was proud of her. And if he were going to go down in a fight to someone, he would much rather it be Natasha than some of these stupid ass new recruits. Fury continued, “Further, all of her psych exams are coming back clean. She’s cleared for duty as an agent.”
Clint relaxed visibly and smiled. “So when do we -“
Fury held up a hand. “Hold up, Hawkeye. There’s no ‘we’ yet.”
Clint looked confused. “I don’t understand. You said she was going to be my partner.”
“She is your partner, Barton. But she’s got to go out alone first.”
Clint started to see where they were going, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
Coulson uncrossed his arms and put his hands on the desk behind him. “Agent Barton, psych has assured us that the Black Widow is no longer a threat to us and our national security. However, we have to test that for ourselves. She is being sent on a mission - alone - that will test her loyalty. This is not a simulation, she is going as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. to accomplish an objective for us. The objective is important, but not crucial. What’s crucial is knowing where her loyalties lie.”
Clint was processing quickly. “I understand, sir. I don’t doubt her at all. Either her ability to accomplish the objective nor her loyalties.”
Fury moved to put his elbows on the desk. “Good,” he said, “because if she defects or betrays us, she will be killed.” He steepled his forefingers, put them to his lips and watched Clint closely.
Clint stiffened. Coulson sat down in the chair next to him and turned facing him, his body language open. Time to play Good Cop. “Clint, think about it a moment. She knows too much about us and our inner workings here. If she defects, she’s putting all of us and by extension countless lives potentially at risk. We can’t let that happen. You understand that. I know you do.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.” And if she’s killed, I’ll find the son of a bitch who did it and put an arrow through his fucking throat.
“Good,” said Fury, leaning back into his chair while watching Clint.
“How will you know if she’s betrayed us? Or defected?”
“She has a time limit of seventy-two hours to accomplish the objective. If she hasn’t, or we lose contact for more than twelve, we give the order.” Clint’s jaw flexed involuntarily. Fury didn't miss it. “As far as betrayal goes, we’ll know.”
“I assume I’m not allowed to see her before she leaves?”
“She’s already gone,” Coulson said.
Clint’s heart skipped a beat. “So either she’s home in 72 hours or she’s dead.”
“Yes.”
Jesus.
“Thank you, sirs.”
He got up and left the room. Fury watched him go, watching the door close behind him. “I feel damn sorry for those recruits right now.”
Clint went to the sparring ring and beat the hell out of recruits until he couldn’t feel his hands anymore.
~*~
His cell phone was ringing, some obnoxious fucking midi melody that made him want to kick puppies - especially when it went off in the morning on his bedside table. Especially when he had been asleep. And especially when that sleep had been partially induced by Jim Beam. He looked at the clock. 5:12am. Fuck. He grabbed it and flipped it open.
“Yeah?” It was Coulson.
“Romanov’s on her way back. She called two hours ago, she’s in the air. Mission accomplished.”
Clint sat up. Too fast, it hurt. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“How long - “
“Twenty-nine hours from departing S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters to the call for pickup.”
Clint let out a huge breath that he hadn't realized he was holding and smiled. “So what happens now?”
“She’ll be debriefed, and then you guys will start working both together and separately in the field. You’re back on missions, starting immediately.”
Clint wanted to whoop, but thought better of it. “Thank you.”
“You earned it. And Agent Barton?”
“Yes sir?”
“She does not know that this mission was also a test of her loyalty. She’s incredibly intelligent and we’re sure that she suspects it, but we do not want her told about this. We feel that to do so would betray the trust that we’ve worked so hard to build with her. Do you understand?”
“Understood.”
“Thank you. Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes sir?”
“Good call in Johannesburg.”
The line went dead and Clint shut the phone. He laid back on the bed and covered his eyes with his arm, grinning. The recruits are going to be over the goddamn moon about this, he thought, then chuckled.