Conundrum

“Security camera has picked up Carson and the female suspect entering his room, ma’am.” Someone from the intel team informed her through her earpiece.

Maria shot Barton a look, and gestured her head towards the corridor. The marksman nodded his understanding and moved quickly. 

She followed closely behind him until they reached the target’s room and pressed herself against the wall.

“I want everyone to give me a status report.” She whispered into the comms.

“Ground floor is secure.” The omega team leader informed, crisply.

“Beta has the rooftop secure, ma’am.”

“Alpha has the exits covered on the primary floor.”

“Sniper’s are in place, curtains are closed. No target sighting yet, ma’am.”

Maria gave Barton another hard look.

They had one shot at this. Their target was cunning and evasive. The chances of setting something like this up again was minimal.

He gave her a thumbs up, before drawing his own handgun.

Proceed she mouthed to him. 

Barton kicked the door open and rushed into the room.

Maria stayed in place, in incase their target managed to get by him.

“Wait.” The woman’s voice said in a flat tone. “It’s not what it looks like.”

The Commander frowned at the sound and the words. 

Something tickled on the edges of her memory.

“Are you alright Carson?” Barton asked.

Maria gritted her teeth at the considerable lack of sound of a gun firing.

“Y-yes.” The politician answered shakily.

“I wasn’t going to do anything to him.” The target spoke up again, “I’m unarmed, I just wanted to talk to him.”

“You don’t need to be armed to be dangerous.” The archer replied, echoing her flat manner of speaking.

The woman growled in frustration, “I was sent to terminate him, yes. I wasn’t going to. I want out. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Barton must have gestured something Maria couldn’t see because Carson seemed to speak up for the target somewhat. “S-she hasn’t hurt me. She wants me to leave the political scene, and move away. L-live under the radar.”

“Is everything ok, Agent Barton?” Alpha’s leader asked through the comms, “Everything’s too damn quiet.”

Maria sighed, this was supposed to be an ambush and terminate mission.

She made the decision to change the nature of this op, and straightened herself out and made herself visible in the doorway.

It was apparent that making a scene and the use of violence could be avoided.

Her eyes landed on the target, who stood with her hands up non-threateningly.

Maria made sure to keep her jaw clamped shut as recognition flooded her.

There was no way she could ever forget how this woman had affected her in the brief time they’d met previously.

Commander Hill said the only thing she thought was appropriate. “The Black Widow.”

Barton shot her a look of confusion, “Ma’am?”

“Is that what you still call yourself?” She asked Nat, who stared at her blankly.

There was no recognition from her.

“That’s what people call me,” The redhead answered slowly.

Just as slowly, Maria reached behind her, to get a pair of cuffs off of her belt and tossed them at the woman. “If you want out - then surely, you’ll leave peacefully with us. You know we can’t just let you leave freely.”

S.H.I.E.L.D left the building with their target and without a single shot being fired. Maria spent the afternoon organising new identities for Carson and his family. The Black Widow achieved her goal. Carson had no choice but to leave the political scene now.

Fury wasn’t entirely on board with her change of plans to begin with, and Maria hid the grin as his tirade started out with, “Considering how many people this bitch has gotten the drop on, a bullet is the best way end to this chapter.” and ended with a complimentary grumble of, “Trust you to make a bad situation potentially rewarding. Get out of my face.”

*

“I have to go and appease those babies up at the W.S.C.” Fury announced with a look of dread upon his face.

Personally, Maria didn’t blame him.

“Better you than me, Nick. I guess that means I’ll be taking care of our visitor and keeping everyone on this ship paranoid while you’re gone.”

The Director chuckled at that. “Or maybe you’ll surprise me and make a friend or two.”

“That might happen if they stop fearing paperwork. See you when you get back, boss.”

“Fuck off.” He quipped back with a grin.

And so she did.

She made her way down into the holding cells, stopping at one in particular and glanced up at the monitor that showed the inside of the room.

The Black Widow appeared to be sleeping while her single guard inside seemed to be half dozing against the wall also.

Maria sighed to herself. 

No, she couldn’t imagine this being a very stimulating job, but that didn’t give the guard an excuse to be inattentive in the face of who he was supposed to be supervising.

She let herself in, causing both pairs of eyes to jolt open and land on her.

“I’ll be relieving you,” She announced to the agent with an edge to her voice.

He seemed to get the message, and left quickly with a simple ‘Yes, ma’am’.

“And then there were two.” The Black Widow purred as if the three of them had been in the immediate vicinity of each other for longer than the thirty seconds prior.

Maria chose not to respond, and visually assessed S.H.I.E.L.D’s prisoner.

‘Nat’ didn’t look any more dangerous or threatening than she did all those years ago under the lights of her deck. There was the same fit hourglass figure that left little to the imagination, there was the same shrewd green eyes that watched Maria as carefully as she watched her back. The only physical difference was the woman had shorter hair than then.

However, there was a much bigger difference in demeanour. The redhead then had seemed cocky, confident and ready to face anything.

The redhead in front of her was still cocky, but restless and tired. As if she had been worn down slowly over time.

“Ah, you’re the tall, dark and broody type.” ‘Nat’ observed, flashing a grin.

Maria decided to give the woman something to work with. “How’s the cell working out for you, Nat?”

The grin immediately transformed into a frown. “I seem to be at a disadvantage, ‘ma’am’. You know me by all sorts of names.”

“I’m afraid that I’m just not as memorable as you are,” She replied, trying to resist a yawn that wanted to escape. “Is there a name that you prefer to be called?”

“How interesting that you ask about preference, and not what my ‘actual’ name is. Are you the ‘good cop’?” 

“Good cop, bad cop. It makes no difference to me. I just want to get the job done. Preferably with your co-operation.” Maria said, bluntly. “I really don’t care for wasting my time. Do you have a name that you prefer? Or should I stick to calling you Black Widow, or Nat?”

Nat eased herself out of bed with an extreme air of carelessness. 

Maria had to give it to her, it took a real sense of no fucks to give in order to pull it off as well as the woman did, while technically being a prisoner.

“I’m known by many names. To my creators I’m Natalia Alianovna Romanova or The Black Widow, to Stark Industries I’m Natalie Rushman and to the American Government I’m a master assassin.” The woman was right in front of her now, arms reached up by Maria’s head to cage her to the wall she leaned upon. “And yet, to you I’m simply ‘Nat’. I think the question is ‘who are you’?”

Maria scowled at the way she could feel goosebumps form on her arms and pushed the woman back firmly, “I’m Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, Maria Hill.”

“How scary,” Nat yawned with disinterest. 

“You asked who I was. There’s your answer. That’s both my position in S.H.I.E.L.D, and my name.” She explained, ready to be done with this entire meeting already and unlocked the door. “You surrendered to us, Widow. I have no reason to try to make grand power plays with you. I’ve asked you nothing except for how you wish to be identified. If we can’t have a civil conversation, then I’m wasting my time here.”

Just before the door shut behind her, Nat’s voice quietly but firmly gave her the answer. “Natasha Romanoff.”

She approved of Romanoff’s release from the cell a week later, deciding that the woman was to have an escort and was not allowed to have access to any kind of computer device. 

“Seems risky,” Barton observed, next to her as they watched Romanoff leisurely use the gym equipment.

“Perhaps,” Maria replied, not at all feeling as diplomatic as her next words would imply. “It’ll do no good keeping her locked up like a caged animal if she surrendered herself as peacefully as she did. As far as I can tell, Romanoff has made no effort to scope this place out, or dig into anyone working here. She’ll show her true motives with time. Why don’t you go make a friend instead of pestering me?”

The archer blinked in response, “With her?”

“Why not? You have good people skills, and you know more than anyone else here what the mindset of a defector is. Maybe you both could relate to each other.”

*

Maria was restless, she stood in the gym locker room gazing at her reflection. Aside from her obvious combat prowess, nothing that she learned about Romanoff sat well with her.

The redhead was able to adapt to any social situation, going from flirtatiously coy to downright terrifying when confronted with something she didn’t like. It was an ability that kept everyone on guard. The defector appeared to form relationships easily; and yet, Maria didn’t believe in the slightest that Romanoff valued any of them.

Manipulative, dangerous, deceitful, unstructured, undisciplined and opportunist were just a few words Maria would use to describe her.

All in all Natasha Romanoff was the epitome of everything she was raised to abhor and stood against on principle.

It stirred something in her to see the agent casually interact with folks only to never be seen again with the same people. Almost as if the agent got what she wanted from them and then moved on to the next.

She turned the faucet on and splashed some water on her face - it didn’t matter how she felt about the woman. Romanoff was now one of hers, and the sooner she accepted that the sooner she could move on from this.

What would Edward have done in this situation?

Stupid question. 

He would have followed his orders and kept an eye on the source of his discontent to ensure it didn’t turn into a more direct threat.

The real question was, did Natasha Romanoff possess the same ability as Clint Barton to turn it all around?

She really didn't think so. The woman used the same tactics on her allies as she did with her enemies.

So Maria continued to observe her closely.

*

When she finally cleared Romanoff for her first mission, Maria also learned that Romanoff was not a team player and did not work well in a unit or a squad.

“-We’re under heavy fire.”

“- Take cover, Harding, try and release those barrels there.”

“-I’m hit!”

“Turn back, and support your team, Agent Romanoff.” She ordered coldly through the comms, in order to mask the anxiety that began to grip her at the sounds of Team Omega’s chatter.

“-I can finish this, I have the target in sight. I’m going to finish this.” The assassin disregarded her.

Assassin. The keyword was assassin. 

A solo operator.

Maria gritted her teeth, thankful she had the foresight to be on the standby team. “God dammit, Romanoff. The objective doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have any allies to reap the rewards of success! Come on, Beta. Let’s go.”

She signalled to Beta to go ahead, while looking at Barton and signalling him to follow her while she went in a different direction.

They said nothing to each other as they kept moving and continued to listen to the chatter. If anything the two teams were providing a decent diversion for them both, since there were few enemies in their way. 

“C4 is in position, ma’am.” Someone from Beta informed her.

Maria didn’t hesitate. The sooner they were all out of there, the sooner they were safer. “Move to retreat, then blow ‘em”

“Yes, ma’am.”

If the calculations were right, then the rubble could act as a partition between the enemy and S.H.I.E.L.D’s teams allowing a complete retreat.

Romanoff’s light chuckle tickled her ears. “‘Blow ‘em’, she says. Do you offer that to all your male colleagues, babe?”

She shot a glare at Barton and deactivated her comms. “Who’s fucking idea was it to recruit her?”

The archer looked like he’d rather be anywhere but there at that moment, “Yours.”

“Next time, shoot me.” Maria growled, as she reached the top of the stairs with him.

A room over, Romanoff had the head of security at gunpoint. A quick glance in their direction, the redhead greeted casually. “I was wondering if you’d make it.”

“Are you alright?”

The woman waved a hand holding the flashdrive. “Yep.”

Due to her aggravation with Romanoff, Maria was careless. 

The moment she reached for her belt to retrieve her cuffs, the explosion came, wracking the building. It didn’t cause any real collapse or infrastructure damage, but it caused enough movement that she briefly lost her balance, causing the head of security to put all of his weight into driving her back and smashing her through the window.

Glass tore through her pants and sliced her in several places on her way down. She reached up instinctively and luckily managed to grip the outside sill. That was until more pain shot through her leg as the man managed to grip onto both of her legs in an attempt to save his own life.

Her hand slipped due to his unexpected and they both began falling again. Her head banged against the side of the building on her way down causing her vision to blur and her head to throb.

Surely, she must be hallucinating Natasha performing a somersault out of the window and diving down after her?

What a show off.

*

Maria opened her eyes, and immediately assessed her location. Back at S.H.I.E.L.D H.Q in the med bay. 

Nick was sitting in a visitor’s chair beside her gurney. “You’re really stupid, Hill.”

“I know.” She said, agreeing with the assessment.

That’s what you got for introducing a new type of cog into the machine without taking care for where exactly it should fit.

“What were the casualties?” 

“Harding requires shoulder reconstruction. Romanoff is also out of commission for a little while, somehow the idiot thought she could jump that high out of a building to catch you without suffering any injuries.”

“Injuries?” Maria enquired, as her mind raced.

Here was a woman who increased the risk her team was in to play the hero, and then literally put herself in harm's way to save her.

What the hell kind of sense did that make?

“Broken collarbone, fractured hand. Injuries sustained by anyone else are relatively minor.”

She sat up, “Is that including my own, Nick?”

“Not a damn person on this ship would think they could keep you from working. Keep it light Maria, and stay away from anything exertive.” He held out a single crutch and leaned it against her bed, within her reach. “You have a small concussion and a nice laceration on your leg. You’ll need this. Walking will hurt like a bitch over the next couple of days.”

Walking indeed hurt ‘like a bitch’. Maria went about her days, moving gingerly and slowly without a single complaint regarding her injuries or aches. She paid little attention to the words that lowered to a whisper when she entered different areas of the Helicarrier on her way to Romanoff’s quarters and knocked.

Natasha answered the door and stepped aside to allow her in. “Commander.”

There was a single bed or a single chair to sit on. The idea of lowering herself into the chair made her grimace, and opted to half sit, half lean on the desk as she faced Romanoff and assessed her. It was obvious that the redhead was in more pain than she was in, moving as little as possible in order to avoid agitating her body too much.

Her mind was processing the events and information she had learned about Romanoff, faster than she could figure out how to address it all verbally.

“You are not suited for a team or unit out on the field.” Were the words that flew out of her mouth, and immediately regretted her choice in wording and tone.

The assassin went pale and stiffened, “I achieved the objective.”

“Yes.” Maria agreed, with a sigh. “You did - at the risk of your comrades. And that was my mistake. I failed to consider that you might best be suited to situations that require more… Freedom. If you were willing to share some of your history I might have been able to more appropriately assign you. You’re no longer a member of team Omega. From now on you’ll be assigned to two-man ops. Agent Barton will be your partner. Learn to work with him. Learn to trust him.”

Out of all the things that Natasha chose to reply to, it was only one thing. “I didn’t risk you.”

“No,” She paused in consideration, then decided not to ask. “You didn’t. Thank you for saving me.”

“I was just returning the favour.”

“There are no favours here, Romanoff. We all look out for each other. Always.”

There was a long drawn out silence after that. The agent looked both dubious and thoughtful as she considered the words.

“You and Barton have a few things in common,” Maria said, returning back to the topic of reassignment. “He was a defector too. If you want any more information, ask him. It’s not my place to share his story. There’s a friend in him if you choose that path.”

“What if I said that I want to know your story?” Natasha asked easily, as they were talking about the weather.

She replied with an equal amount of carelessness. “I don’t have a story to tell.”

For the first time in her life, Maria was accused of being deceitful as Romanoff replied with a simple, “Liar.”

She stared hard at the agent as her indignation rose at the singular word.

A perfectly shaped brow arched over green eyes, "I don't think you're lying to me, Commander Hill. I think you're lying to yourself."

*

Romanoff and Barton became quite the infamous duo, and Maria reconsidered her assessment of the assassin. 

Romanoff was still manipulative, still an opportunist and still very much dangerous. However, in situations that required more adaptability and discretion, she recognised that Romanoff was indeed structured and disciplined.

“Are you sure about this?” Fury asked her. “You don’t even like her.”

“Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton have the highest mission success rate with the fewest injuries.” Maria leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes in an effort to somewhat reduce her headache. “Unless you order me not to, I’m increasing her access and rank. It’ll be impossible to continue assigning these types of missions and keep her blindfolded. At this point we should either trust her or not trust her. There is no inbetween. After all, we trust her with Barton’s life everytime we deploy them.”

“When the fuck are you going to step out of his shadow, Maria?”

There was only one ‘he/him or his’ they would be referring to.

“Why would I want to?”

“No matter how hard you keep trying, you are not Captain Hill.” Fury announced gruffly. “And no matter how much you try to convince yourself, you know people aren’t so black and white.”

“Fuck off, Nick.”

“See? You’re not the same. Your father would never dream of saying that to a superior.” He said, doing as she asked and leaving the room.

Restlessness and agitation overtook the inconvenience of her headache. Thankful that it was the end of the day, Maria stalked to the gym looking to work some of it off. 

Of course Romanoff was there, and it looked as if she were having fun with Team Omega, repeatedly throwing them on their asses like dependable playthings.

Fury’s words hit her hard, no matter how truthful they were.

As always in the locker room, she stopped briefly to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. Her father’s face had prominent lines of grief that her own lacked. Though his eyes were brown unlike her own blue eyes, they held an unknown spark in them that Maria’s were missing.

No. Maria was not, and never would be her father. 

But still, after all this time she admired him and held onto his principles as sacred as one held the bible.

“I didn’t think anybody could be more miserable than Carter or Fury. But you might just give them a run for their money.” Romanoff stated, jerking her out of her thoughts.

“They’re not miserable” Maria corrected, automatically. “They just have a lot to live up to.”

“Was the self-exclusion intentional, soldier?”

She made the mistake of turning to face the redhead who was leaning against the lockers and inspecting her nails carelessly. 

Maria closed her eyes briefly and turned away. 

The agent was literally just in tight leggings and a sports bra.

God help her, she was only human.

“Is your lack of ability to address me by title or name intentional, Romanoff?”

“Maria,” The assassin purred out in a way that made her try to suppress a shiver. “Can you help me?” 

“Is there anyone else who can help you?”

“You know, it’s rude not to look at the person who’s speaking to you.”

That was true. 

She turned around again and fixed her gaze on a spot just past the woman’s shoulder.

Natasha now sported a shit eating grin on her face, as she used a hand towel to wipe the sweat that was dripping just above her cleavage “So will you help me?”

Fuck peripheral vision.

“What do you need, agent?”

To Maria’s relief, the assassin slipped on a shirt.

To Maria’s dismay, the entire thing had been a joke at her expense. “Nothing. I just wanted to see if you would.”

She stalked out of the locker room while she growled out, “I help when there’s help to be needed. Stop wasting my time.” and worked the punching bag to the point of exhaustion after that.

This is precisely what she meant by Romanoff being manipulative and not valuing the people around her unless your name was Clint Barton.