Just Another Date {Widow}

The walls were made out of windows, tinted on the outside, but so clear he could barely make out his reflection from the inside. The table was long and he sat on one end, a plainly built man with a spreading bald spot on the other. Guards that had guns hidden under their jackets stood around the walls. Twelve, an easy number. The backup lining the hallway outside was the only complication that required he bring some backup of his own. That and maybe an excuse to spend time with someone.

“So, do we have a deal?” the voice of the man across the table from him caused him to bring his eyes from where they had been pointed at the table, subtly examining the room one final time. There was a small beep in his ear, letting him know that the small device in his pocket had finished hacking into every computer in the building. A small smirk flickered across his lips.

“Actually,” he stood up, causing the guards in the room to tense. He straightened out his tie with his gloved hands. He personally couldn’t wait until he could take this monkey suit off. “I’d like to renegotiate the deal.” He tapped his thigh twice and there it was; the signal for the backup to come swooping down and help him make quick work of the guards so the other SHIELD agents standing nearby could come in and snatch the man across the table, who was responsible for funding several terrorist organizations.

Bucky Barnes had definitely climbed the metaphorical ladder at SHIELD since his allegiance aligned with the organization. He had risen through the ranks with impressive ease. Almost more quickly than the Black Widow herself had ascended to a place of considerable weight in SHIELD. The Winter Soldier being sent as the sleeper agent that he was acting as that very day was indication enough of the trust that SHIELD put in him. Granted, his having worn the stars and stripes of Captain America so recently might have tipped the odds in his favor for being chosen.

Natasha was proud of Bucky, truthfully. She was just a little tart on the matter. That matter being that when she finally decided to focus more on her role as a member of the Avengers, the Winter Soldier became such an elite SHIELD agent. She could do long-distance relationships, and she couldn't put blame more on herself or Bucky for their's being just that. Because even though an assignment might take the Winter Soldier anywhere on the globe with one phone call, a single travesty might send the Black Widow to another dimension.

At the very least, Natasha could find solace in the fact that, though the SHIELD Helicarrier moved frequently, it was usually fairly close to New York City, and the Avengers Mansion therein, and that her ties at the agency hadn't been severed to the point of complete alienation. Widow was still given assignments from SHIELD high command, and still dispatched. The only difference was that she was given more choice on whether or not she accepted, and that the Avengers took precedence.

Today was a fine example. A perfect storm, if you will, of all of Black Widow's circumstances that somehow, miraculously aligned the stars of her life. She was to lead a strike team of SHIELD whose job was to crash into a meeting that Bucky was having with some corrupt mogul or another - the details were in her briefing, but Natasha didn't care enough at the moment to summon forth those subtle details. Speaking of...

Black Widow knelt on the rooftop of the very building that Bucky was within, two stories down. There was a faint beep-beep in her ear piece. Winter Soldier had given the signal, and the agent concealed on an adjacent balcony - so well that Natasha could barely note his presence - relayed that fact to her. "There's the signal," Widow said. The agents arrayed in a phalanx behind her went to work quick, loosing grapple lines from their outfits in preparation of scaling down the exterior of the building.

Widow was supposed to enter first, and that was why, after a quick implementation of her widow's line, she dove with balletic grace into the open air. Natasha fell for a moment, but she had measured the necessary footage of her line precisely. The cord pulled taut, Widow angled her body, and came flying toward the window behind the kingpin with brutal velocity. Natasha knew that the glass of the conference room was bulletproof, which was why she already had a specialized cartridge loaded in her gauntlets.

Several moments before impact, Black Widow let that gadget fly from her wrist. The glass cracked in a spider web of spindly lines, which were promptly smashed apart by Natasha's feet. The woman's kick carried on through the broken pane, between the guards stationed on either side of the balding billionaire, and connected between his shoulder blades. Black Widow followed the momentum of the man as his torso slammed against the tabletop, moving fluidly so that she bent her knees and grasped fistfuls of his priceless suit coat.

Natasha used the still gathered momentum to pull her target out from under her, over her body, and throw him down hard in the center of his shiny conference table. He was out cold, but that didn't stop the flurry of guns that were being whipped out to point her way. Black Widow's head flipped up, sending her hair flying in an auburn torrent down her back. Her eyes locked with Bucky's, glittering, and her lip flicked in a faint smirk. Then the SHIELD agents crashed through the remaining in-tact windows, and Natasha was flipping to dodge defensive fire.

He didn’t flinch as the windows were shattered the next instant. Instead, he smirked and gave a wink when her eyes met his. She was amazing, as usual. One would think that he would have gotten used to it by now, but he doubted he ever would. Besides, he didn’t want to. He enjoyed it when she amazed him.

Not a moment later, just as the gunfire started, he was moving. He grabbed the wrist of a man who had pulled out a gun and sent his other hand chopping down on it. There was a crack as the man dropped the gun. He then kneed the man in the gut, causing him to double over, before grabbing his shoulder and flipping him onto the ground.

Dodging a bullet, he moved to the next man closest. He grabbed the gun and twisted it out of the man’s grip. Tossing that to the side, he reached quickly into his jacket pocket- their security was good, but not good enough –and pulled out a device. He efficiently smacked it against the man’s chest, pushing him out the shattered window in the procress. The device had attached a line to the man, which pulled taut a few stories down. James stuck the end of the device to the floor, before standing up straight again. He watched as the backup that had been lining the hallway poured in. Good, he’d been getting bored.

“I was thinking we could go somewhere after this,” he said, statement directed toward Widow as he dispatched another security guard. “No pancake houses, I promise.” He grinned boyishly, although the thought of pancakes did sound pretty good.

Had the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that crashed through the windows not have been given the stipulation of 'no casualties', the scuffle would have been over immediately. Beings that this was a tamer assignment than some of the organization's more surly agendas, the agents present - Natasha and Bucky included - had to go about things more tactically. Because the guards protecting the man that Black Widow had just knocked out cold weren't playing as nicely as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were forced to.

Those assigned to the op had been selected to best suit the parameters of the scenario, though. Meaning that they had all been trained to dodge bullets, much as Natasha and Bucky had. Shots rang out, but the gunfire was silenced quickly. Winter Soldier exploded into action after his not-so-subtle wink, just as Natasha twisted through the air away from him. One perilously high kick to the chest of a gunman sent him so hard against the wall he was probably concussed. Widow wasted no time, delivering a roundhouse to the same man that sent him flying towards another.

The agents having crashed in through the windows were moving dutifully, implementing the gadgets that they'd been outfitted with, as well as their training in hand-to-hand combat to make the opposition's rough-edged attempts laughable. Stunning crackles of electric-based weapons made a metallic taste sour Natasha's tongue while the hired hands dropped, shocked into submission. Black Widow was still the leader of the unit, so she kept a steady eye on the progress of the conflict.

The redhead had just preformed an aerial over a charging assailant when she got near enough to Bucky that he could speak over the chaos. The door to the corridor outside burst open, and a torrent of fresh adversaries swarmed inside. Black Widow mastered her smile at Winter Soldier's comment before he could see it, though, knowing the man, he had sensed her amusement. "How very forward of you, Agent Barnes." Natasha sprinted at Bucky, and lunged at him.

They were so used to working cohesively together, so attuned to one another's fighting styles, that the next tandem act came naturally. Neither even had to think of the other's intentions. Black Widow's hands clasped firmly onto Winter Soldier's wrists, she was swung around the man once, gaining ferocious momentum, then set loose. Natasha was grateful for her peak attributes, because had she not possessed them, the force with which she plowed into the surge of gunmen might have shattered her bones.

Widow used that power as the group toppled backwards and she felt ribs break beneath her boots, and launched into a backwards flip that landed her in a lithe crouch on the edge of the conference table beside Bucky. "Perhaps we should finish here first, though."

There was a crack as his elbow connected with the jaw of one man, just as he was rushed by another. He grabbed the man’s neck quickly, before dislocating the guard’s shoulder. He then punched him in the gut and shoved him off to the side.

He smirked at Natasha’s response. “Subtlety’s never really been my specialty.” And then she was lunging at him and he immediately knew what she was doing. They worked so naturally together, as if by pure instinct, which might’ve been the case. It was the result of years of training and combat together, but also a deep understanding they seemed to share. He thought so, at least. He smirked as she took down several guards with that one move alone. He had taught her that move; among many, but she had a way of making them her own, perfecting them in a way that held more grace than he could’ve ever accomplished.

He turned his attention back to other guards nearby, grabbing one by the hair and smashing his head against the table. There was a crack and the man fell unconscious. His lips twitched in response to her other statement. “Of course, Agent Romanoff.” Using her Americanized name was still slightly foreign to him. It was beautiful, of course, but it didn’t flow off the tongue the same way her natural one did. It wasn’t the name he had called her by and occasionally whispered into her ear or into the silence of a dark room during those days in Russia, when she had been the only light in the thick darkness that surrounded him.

He looked around for more opponents, the adrenaline of battle still running thickly through his veins, but he saw none, the last remaining few quickly being dispatched by the SHIELD agents. He glanced at Widow, grinning crookedly. “That was pretty refreshing, wouldn’t you say?”

The fight was over quickly. Indeed, after Natasha's joint attack with Bucky's strength propelling her, she only had time to dispatch two separate guards with decisive blows, and then it was done. Not surprising, really. An entire unit of capable SHIELD agents headed by two of their top operatives? The miniature force that had been dispatched could fight a small army without so much as a scratch. Natasha or Bucky alone could have taken on the hired guns for the entire building without much issue. Everything had gone according to plan.

The Black Widow straightened from her pose - having finished her part in the conflict by flipping a man forcefully into the ground - and adopted a more official air, if just slightly. Her eyes narrowed, sweeping the scene while SHIELD agents began moving over the unconscious, following procedure to the letter with pristine efficiency. Natasha liked her duality between the Avengers and SHIELD. They were so drastically different. The superhero team maintained an air of barely organized chaos.

Despite how much forethought or tactical ingenuity was put into leading or directing the Avengers, everything either fell apart regardless, or one or more of the team members decided that they didn't like the strategy and improvised instead. Somehow they managed to stave off cataclysmic error, and saved the world every other week, but it was a different atmosphere than SHIELD. More relaxed, but more pressurized. Meanwhile, SHIELD acted so much like a cohesive unit there were some ops that Natasha didn't have to speak an order.

Out of the two, however, the Widow found herself pining more for the familial mayhem of the Avengers than the concise protocol of SHIELD - not that she professed that to anyone. Natasha looked up to see that the two responsible agents were already surrounding the kingpin that was their target, outfitting his semi-conscious form in the proper restraints. Widow glanced to Bucky as he bantered back about how refreshing the fight was.

The redhead glanced down to a man at her feet who, upon being knocked unconscious, had soiled himself. Her nose wrinkled. "I feel like a new woman," Natasha said with obvious sarcasm, though there was a sparkle in her green eyes that betrayed her teasing in the company of Bucky.

He watched the SHIELD agents work, without so much as an order. It almost reminded him of his days in the army, but the army had a bit more of a chaotic air about it. It went with the flow and raised hell in such an organized way that only the army could accomplish back then. Instead, the tactics of SHIELD better reminded him of his Russia days. Everyone had a job and they knew what that job was. Orders were always crystal clear and errors couldn’t afford to be made.

Natasha’s comment brought him out of his thoughts, and a grin came onto his lips. That was another thing he loved about her; she was always keeping him on his toes. For every remark of his, she had a quick counter. It helped to keep him grounded; remind him he wasn’t the only smartass on Earth.

“Then I think this calls for a celebration” he said, amused, as he straightened his tie. “Or are you going to tell me I got all dressed up for nothing?” He winked, his grin becoming slightly boyish. He loved bantering with her, watching that playful spark come into her eyes. It never ceased to help ease the restless demons that were always there within him, lying beneath the surface. When he was with her, he could forget, for a moment, about all the shadows of his past that still haunted him. He didn’t know what he’d do without her, honestly.