Shopping with an assassin
You knew you shouldn’t be nervous. It wasn’t like you were asking your father for his permission to leave the country. You just wanted to go dress shopping. However…the person you wanted to go shopping with wasn’t exactly someone your father was a fan of.
“Why do you look so guilty?”
You startled, your pencil fumbling out of your hand and hitting the floor of the living room. Your sketch of the large tree in the front yard now had a dark line across it. You ignored the ruined sketch to look up at your father who was eyeing you skeptically.
“What?”
“You look guilty, kid.” Coulson replied as he crossed his arms. “It’s the same look you got when you broke the coffee table while you were playing Captain America as a kid. Spill.”
“Um…I got asked to prom.”
You watched as Coulson’s stern look turned into a protective, yet startled, look. He sat on the coffee table, hands on his knees as he looked at you.
“What’s his name?”
“I’m not going with a guy,” You replied. That seemed to calm him down, but he now looked curious. “I’m going with a girl. You remember that girl I punched Alex Reynolds over?” Coulson nodded. “Well-“ You continued with a sigh. “Her name is Nancy, and she really wants to go to prom, but she doesn’t want to get picked on. She asked me to go with her because all the guys are afraid of me.”
“Oh,” Coulson blinked. “That’s fine, (Y/N). Even if you went to prom with a guy, I still would have let you go. Don’t look so nervous when you have to ask me something.”
“That’s not what I’m nervous about.” You admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. “I want to go dress shopping…”
“I don’t mind dress shopping.” Coulson smirked. “In fact, I have excellent taste-“
“Dad, I don’t want you to take me dress shopping.” You cut him off. “I want to go with a girl…” You trailed off, waiting for him to piece it together.
You knew the moment when he figured it out because he let out a low groan and buried his face in his hands.
“You want to go prom dress shopping with the Black Widow?” He finally looked at you, a tired, helpless look in his eyes.
“She’s my friend, dad.” You defended. “And prom dress shopping is something most girls do with their best friends. Nat’s my best friend.”
“Y’know, I always wanted you to make friends.” Coulson grumbled, scrubbing a hand across his face. “I guess I should have been more specific on what kind of friends you made.” He fixed you with a pleading look. “(Y/N), I’m really not comfortable with you going dress shopping with one of the world’s top assassins.”
“Think of it this way, dad,” You rested your hand on his as it gripped his knee. “No one’s gonna touch me with Nat around.”
He sighed, “Fine, but I want you to call me every fifteen minutes.”
“Dad.”
“Fine,” He huffed. “Every thirty minutes. I want to make sure you’re alright. And use your code word to tell me you’re fine. That’s the only way you’re going.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re over protective?”
“Anyone ever tell you I don’t give a damn?” Coulson quipped with a smirk.
“What about this one?”
You peered around the rack of dresses, inspecting the dress Natalia—No, Natasha—had picked up. It was incredibly glittery, and you scowled at the horrific disco-ball style dress. Natasha snorted in amusement, putting the dress back on the rack.
“C’mon, kid, you gotta pick out something.” She sighed, sifting through the dresses on the rack.
“I don’t even want to go to prom, Nat.” You muttered as you scowled at a horrifically pink number. “None of the kids at school have liked me since I broke Lucas Jacobs' wrist in the third grade. The only reason I’m going is because Nancy Mardon needed a date and I’m the only girl who said yes.”
“Do you even like girls?” Natasha asked as she leaned on the rack you were looking at dresses on.
“No,” You shrugged. “And Nancy knows that, but she wants to go to prom and doesn’t want to get harassed-“
Natasha laughed, “You’re playing bodyguard?”
You blinked, “Huh, I guess I am.”
“If I had known this sooner, I could have found you a dress faster.” Natasha rolled her eyes, poking you in the side before heading to a rack of dresses. “You’re going to need something you can move around in and hide weapons-“
“I can’t take weapons to prom, Nat.” You snorted, amused.
You followed Natasha around the store, watching as she found a few dresses she deemed acceptable to do security work in.
You still couldn’t believe your father let you leave the house with one of the world’s top assassins. A top assassin who had quickly become your best friend ever since you had accidentally wandered into her hospital room at the SHEILD medical facility. You never really saw Natasha as an assassin, you saw her as your weird friend who had a love of knives and could braid hair like a pro.
Now the Black Widow was helping you pick out a dress for a prom you didn’t really want to go to. The other kids usually ignored you most of the time when they weren’t picking on you for being weird. However, it was rare for them to pick on you nowadays due to you almost breaking a linebacker’s jaw for bullying Nancy Mardon, even if it had been a year since that had even happened.
“Alright, go try these on.” Natasha announced, shoving four dresses into your arms. “I’ll be right outside the dressing room if you need help.”
You went into the dressing room, closing the door and began to try on the dresses.
The first one had a low neckline you knew your father wouldn’t approve of, so you didn’t even try it on. The next one was a gaudy blue one that you decided wasn’t really your thing, so you quickly took it off to avoid looking at your reflection in the monstrosity. The third one was nice, but you weren’t exactly a fan of the shade of purple.
The last one had the others beat by a mile. It was dark green with a gold beaded halter top that you couldn’t help but love. You fastened the strap for the neck, then stepped out of the dressing room. You looked to your friend, a faint flicker of nervousness running through you. You weren’t one for dresses, and you were worried you might look ridiculous. However, Natasha’s face lit up as she saw you, a faint smirk on her face.
“That dress is perfect.” She stated, leading you over to the mirrors so you could get a better look at yourself.
Despite the fact that you felt ridiculous in a dress, this one was gorgeous and you found that you actually looked pretty in it.
“You look amazing,” Natasha told you, sweeping your hair up off your neck and tying it into a side bun. “You’re going to look even better once everything else is done.” She squeezed your shoulder in encouragement, and you managed a small smile. “By the way, how much is your dad freaking out about you going to prom?”
“He’s just glad some guy didn’t ask me.” You snorted in amusement. “When I eventually bring a guy home, I’m gonna have to be super careful. Dad will more than likely shoot him."