The First Test
Charlie and her team were all gathered around the gate to the running track. It had rained pretty hard the previous night, a rain that left the air misty and bone-chillingly cold. It was an okay morning to complete their first test, stamina, that would be if there weren’t various obstacles scattered around the track that glistened with water.
Charlie looked around at the thirteen other members of her team, their eyes heavy from first-week exhaustion and cheeks reddened from the cold. A few of them were either jogging in place or rubbing their hands up their arms to help retain heat.
“Listen up!”
Charlie’s eyes snap up to see Young approach from inside the fence. She gathered that the man must have entered the track from the other side as she didn’t see him pass her nor did she hear the gate open.
“It’s Friday, and your first test, stamina. We have chosen to only give you one week of training for this test for a reason: the weak will fall,” Young explained.
Charlie rolled her eyes at his dramatics.
“On go, I will open this gate and you will start to make your way around the track. The first person to stop moving first will be sent home,” Young continued, “And it just so happens that the weather is not playing in your favour this morning. A lot of those obstacles will be wet and very slippery.”
Silence spread across the group as they all anxiously waited to start. The creak of the fence as it was whipped open was heard before the shout of ‘GO!’ and they were all off.
Knowing that this was a test of stamina, Charlie took slow and steady to heart and jogged rather than ran. The only end to this race was time, distance didn’t matter and that was the most important thing to remember about this test.
Young had been right, the moment Charlie’s foot hit the first obstacle, a six-foot slanted climbing wall, she felt her foot move without notice. She quickly caught herself before she fell, moments away from injuring her ankles. However, others weren’t as lucky.
“Evans!”
The person in question was a small, aggressive woman, whom Charlie had previously calculated as someone who could have made it very far in the program if she didn’t boast about everything she had accomplished in life.
Charlie found it quite comical to see the woman, face down on the track after miscalculating the first obstacle, not even a full minute into the test.
“Pack your bags, you’re going home,” Young yelled, “The rest of you keep going. I want to see what you can do. The last man standing will receive a ten-minute phone call.”
Charlie sighed but picked up her speed. There was only one person she wanted to call, and she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to hear from her.
After the first night Charlie spent at Natasha’s, the other woman grew distant once more. Charlie didn’t understand if it was the emotions she had shared with Natasha the night before or the fact that they woke up with limbs entangled and breathing matched. From that night on, Natasha had insisted that she sleep on the couch. Charlie barely got her to agree to alternating who slept on the couch. She had so many questions and so many possible answers, all of which terrified her.
Charlie let her mind wander, just concentrating enough on the tract to not fall.
Charlie was the first to wake. It took her a good minute before she realized where she was and another minute to realize the warmth beside her was none other than her favourite assassin. Not that she knew many assassins.
Natasha had her head resting on Charlie’s chest, she had an arm around Charlie’s waist, and both woman had their legs intertwined.
It felt nice. Peaceful really. To see someone so tighly wound as Natasha Romanoff in a deep, cuddly slumber.
Charlie rested her cheek on top of Natasha’s head and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to go back to sleep, no, she just wanted to enjoy the intimacy even if it meant nothing to the other woman.
It was only a minute or so later that Charlie’s peace came to a hault, as Natasha’s phone almost buzzed itself off the side table.
Natasha stirred with a groan. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Charlie’s for a moment before she launched herself from the bed. “I, uh, I’m so sorry,” she apologized.
Charlie shook her head, “It’s alright. I was quite comfortable actually.”
Natasha shook her head. Her phone buzzed once more, reminding both women why their peaceful bubble had been burst. She lunged for her phone, answering it before the person on the other end hung up, “Romanoff.”
Charlie could have listened into the other woman’s conversation if she truly wanted to, but instead decided to grab some clothes from her suitcase and change in the bathroom across the hall. After getting changed, Charlie located Natasha’s stash of coffee and started a pot. She was searching the fridge and cupboards for anything to put in the coffee when Natasha emerged from the bedroom. “I made coffee,” she said with a small smile. When she didn’t receive a smile in return, she frowned, “What’s wrong?”
Natasha shook her head, “Nothing’s wrong,” she said, clearing her throat, “Fury just had to push back your flight a couple of days. He wanted to personally brief you on your mission beforehand but is stuck in D.C.”
Charlie knew that wasn’t it. There was something else bothering Natasha, and Charlie just hoped it wasn’t her. “Oh, okay. I can get a hotel in the meantime,” she began but was cut off.
Natasha shook her head again, “Not, it’s okay. I’ll just make myself a bed out here. You can have my room.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow, “no way, I’m not highjacking your room. We can either share the bed or you can sleep in it.” Please choose to share. Charlie wanted so badly to wake up again, just like she did this morning.
“No, you’re about to go on a mission, you need to bed to yourself,” Natasha insisted.
Charlie crossed her arms over her chest, “I’m not budging on this, Nat.”
“Well neither am I,” Natasha said.
“Fine,” Charlie querked a lip in a growl, “We alternate. You take the bed tonight, I’ll take it tomorrow. That’s my final offer.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, “fine.”
Charlie was so caught up in analyzing her thoughts that she failed to notice when the last recruit stopped moving.
“Wyatt! That’s enough,” Young cut her off, “Go hit the showers then go to the residence office for your phone call.”
Charlie didn’t want to abruptly stop her pace and instead jogged her way off the track, earning a ‘show-off’ from a very disgruntalled Rachel.