Devon, UK (15/04/2006)
Natalia huffed, and checked her watch. She had been sitting in Clint’s sniper nest for the last hour and a half, and he had told her he would be back in fifteen minutes. They had been trailing the mark through half of Europe - they’d gone through Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium, France, and now they were in Devon, and she had finally settled, in a cosy house in a small town. It wasn’t her house - they would need to set up another sniper nest if she decided to move back to her house - she was staying with a friend, literally a block away from where she lived semi-permanently, but she seemed pretty set - from what Natalia could see, at least.
The phone rang. Natalia put down the binoculars, irritable, and picked it up, scowling at the device.
“Where have you been, Barton?”
“Hey, Nat. We have a problem.”
Natalia was not amused.
“Yes, we have a problem. I have been here, in the British weather, on a roof, with no shelter, for the last hour and a half!” She took a breath, calming herself. “What is your problem, Clint?”
“So, Becker is moving back to her house. And, I may have been made.” The sounds of children’s laughter echoed across the call, tinny and small. “They recognised me from my circus days. They’ve been studying America in the 90s and they did a sector on entertainment, and somehow they found a picture of Carson’s on the internet, and-”
Natalia cut him off with a sigh, already getting to her feet and beginning to move around their equipment.
“I’ll see if we have any viable buildings, but the roofs won’t be as easy to access. Becker didn’t see the kids see you?” She zipped up a bag and slung it over her shoulder, the phone tucked into the crook of her neck.
“Nah, it’s okay - I heard her on the phone in the supermarket to her friend saying she was moving back, and she was gone and I was at the check-out before the kids mobbed me. I’ll come help you get the things packed up - aw, milk, no,” he was sighing mournfully when Natalia hung up on him.
She grumbled as she assessed the buildings they had marked as having suitable spots for a sniper nest - there were two. One was a residential block, and the other was an office building. The office building had security preventing anyone from using the roof, but the residential allowed residents to use their pass. Natalia opened the list of residents, out of pure curiosity, and froze when she noticed a certain name.
Bobbi Morse, one of Clint’s closest friends and, by extension, hers, had mentioned a scientist named Jemma Simmons quite a bit, and here was not only Jemma Simmons (part time resident), but also Anne and William Simmons. Quickly searching through the SHIELD database, Natalia confirmed that Jemma Simmons was currently a student at the Academy - and so was likely to allow them to use her roof.
Two heavy duffel bags over each shoulder, Natalia was still barely out of breath when she knocked on the door of the Simmons’ third floor apartment. She flashed Anne a smile.
“I’m here to ask Jemma a quick favour?”
Jemma Simmons was smaller than Natalia had been expecting. She was seventeen - still so very young - and she was very anxious. Natalia had no idea how to deal with her. “Hello. I’m sorry for dropping in like this. I’m N- Natasha Romanoff. I’m a friend of Bobbi’s. I’m here on an operation and I’d like to ask to use your roof?”
Simmons’ expression was frozen in shock, awe and confusion, but she unfroze at the request of the roof.
“Whatever will help you with your mission,” she ended up stammering, standing from her seat on her bed to rifle through some drawers to find her pass. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Bobbi, is she an alumni?” Her hands were twitching, and Natasha fought the urge to smile.
“An alumni, and an admirer of your work.” She gave in and smiled at the young scientist, pocketing the pass. “I’ll return this to you, and I’m sure Fury will be pleased to hear of your cooperation.” Natasha hid her smirk at Simmons’ squeak, leaving the room to make her exit, nodding graciously at the parents.
The roof was the perfect spot, and Natasha let Clint up with a genuine grin. “How were the kids?” She dumped a bag into his arms, leading him to the spot she’d picked. “The Amazing Hawkeye, in the flesh. I bet they were thrilled.”
Through Clint’s sigh and long-winded rant, she set up quietly, occasionally nodding or laughing at something he said.
“And anyway, all that just meant I couldn’t get back to you sooner.” He pouted, over-exaggerating his annoyance, but it made Natasha’s chest feel fluttery, like when Masha had given her her Beretta, or when Coulson told her she’d done a good job. Natasha liked knowing Clint did actually want her around. “Hey, how’d you get up here? The lock hadn’t been picked, and you had a pass.”
Natasha snorted. They had finally got to a perfect spot, had set up, the target was in sight.
“Take the shot, and I’ll tell you about Jemma Simmons while we pack up.” Clint was hilarious, well-meaning, and a great person, but he got off-task quite a bit.
“Okay, jeez. Sorry, Nat.” Clint dropped into mission mode, crouching with the sniper rifle, and squeezed the trigger, satisfied when he saw the mark drop. “Done now. Say, isn’t that the scientist Bobbi noticed?”