"This is your target," a man in a black jacket and dark sunglasses said, sliding a tablet across the small café table to you. "We need this done fast. Efficient and clean."

"Have you ever known me to do it any other way?" you smirked, taking the tablet in hand and rapidly tracing your fingers over its smooth screen to gather information on your next mission. "Time frame?"

"Confirmed death within the week. We wouldn't be sad if you took a few of the others with her."

File after file of information flashed past your fingers, yet moving far too slow for your liking. You were enhanced well beyond the limitations of any known tech, and your mind had far exceeded the tablet in your hand; it may as well have been words carved in stone for what it was offering you. You had been enhanced to actively use 100% of your brain power; what that meant to you was still somewhat amorphous and confusing, and you had yet to know the limits of your powers, or if there even were any. Being a master assassin had become so much easier now that the years of training that you had endured was almost nothing more than a distant memory to your current abilities.

"Wait," you stopped, leaning forward to lower your voice and sliding the tablet back to the man, "this says undercover. I don't do undercover work. Give it to someone else."

"We have, my dear, and they're all dead. Unable to complete the mission." He looked around causally, lifting his cup to his lips to take a long drink while surveying the surroundings. The steam from the liquid clouded his lenses, but you could see a tremor in his hands and heard the quiet clinking of glass when the cup came to rest again on its saucer; it was common for people to be nervous around you now once they knew what you could do. "This target has been problematic for us, and we only now realize that it should have been given to you first. We were concerned that the target could affect your focus."

"Please," you scoffed, standing to take your leave of him and anxious to get started, "Natasha Romanoff hasn't affected me in years."

~~~

"Again."

"You do it again," you panted, standing against the wall and hunched over to try to catch your breath. "We've been at this all day, Natasha. I'm not going to get it if we go one more time."

"I said, again, (Y/N)," she scolded. "When did you come to believe that challenging me was acceptable?"

"Maybe it was two nights ago when we were drunk and you called me your best friend."

Natasha smiled at you, but there was nothing genuine about it and her eyes didn't show any amusement. She watched you for only a moment before she made her move in an attempt to catch you off guard. "As your best friend, I'm only going to say this one more time." She pounced forward, wrapping her leg around yours and slamming her elbow into your back as you fell hard onto the cold mat. You hit with a loud slap of your already-bruised skin, the impact knocking the breath from your chest and leaving you gasping for air, but even now she continued to hold her stance over you.

"Again."

~~~

Steve Rogers (Captain America): Super Soldier, enhanced strength, speed, reflexes. Master tactician. Vibranium shield.

Tony Stark (Iron Man): Iron Man suit with advanced tech and weaponry. JARVIS intelligence system.

Clint Barton (Hawkeye): Expert marksman. Bow and arrow are chosen weapon, skilled in hand-to-hand combat.

Bruce Banner (Hulk): Last uncontrolled incident 2 years, 4 months ago. Immeasurable strength.

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow): Assassin. Widow bites, batons, handguns are chosen weapons. Expert in hand-to-hand combat.

Thor (Asgardian): Demi-god. Mjolnir able to be summoned to him from any distance. Superior strength.

As you rode through the congested city streets of New York in the back of the cab, you read through each profile just to keep yourself occupied more than anything else. None of them had really piqued your interest as a potential threat to you, nor had any of them shown promise of even being a challenge. They had given you one week to complete your mission, but you had hopes of being done and back in your own bed by the end of the day.

The car came to an abrupt halt, signaling your arrival at the tower. With a quick toss of bills to the driver, you exited and stood in place, staring up at the massive structure to study its exterior for potential escape options. It was a simple design build that failed to impress you in a match in inadequacy for the team that it housed.

"(Y/N)?"

The voice broke your trance and you put on your best fake smile, reaching out to take Steve's extended hand. "Yes, and you must be Captain Rogers?"

"Please, call me Steve. If we're going to be working together over the next week, we might as well get that out of the way first thing."

You hated it when people were so friendly. It made it just a little harder to kill them.

"Well then, Steve, it's nice to meet you," you nodded, taking your bag to go inside, but he quickly plucked it from your hands and tossed it over his shoulder. "Really, chivalry isn't necessary."

"It's what I do," he smiled in return. He continued his manners by opening and holding the door for you, watching so intently as you passed by him that you could feel his stare and it put you on guard. "Everyone is ready to meet you, (Y/N). If you'll follow me, they're upstairs in the conference room."

With a silent nod, you followed him into the elevator, where an uncomfortable silence filled the small enclosure. He leaned back against the rail casually, but you could feel the tension emanating from him as he watched you, quickly looking away each time you would look back. You could hear the increasing rate of his heartbeat and the restriction in his chest when he took a breath. The outlines of each muscle, visible through his workout shirt, were rigid and contracted, ready for use at any moment. When the strain had finally grown almost palpable, you addressed it head-on.

"Are you scared of me, Steve?"

"What?" he responded with a small look of surprise and maybe what you read as a sudden anxiety. "No, of course not. I mean, I know that you have abilities that I am only beginning to understand, but no, I don't fear you, (Y/N)."

"Then why is your body reacting like you do?" You regarded him for a moment until the lift came to a stop and the doors opened to release you. "Captain, I'm not stepping one foot out of this elevator until you tell me what I can expect to be waiting for me in that room." When his posture straightened and he dropped your bag to the ground, you immediately took the offence and pinned him to the wall in a hold that even he would struggle to get out of. "Tell me now, Captain, or this will be where we say goodbye. Permanently."

A commotion was building down the hallway from where you now stood and you could feel Steve's body relax slightly under your grip. "How many, Captain?" His reply was only an indignant stare and silence, even when your fingernails cut at his skin as you spun him to face the wall and wrenched his arm back to hear his shoulder dislocate from it's joint. "Is she with them?"

"JARVIS..." he groaned, and you released him immediately to run into the hallway before he could finish his command and before the team could arrive. With the A.I. watching every move you made, there wouldn't be a way to elude them, knowing that they would be protecting her from you. Barely a second of reviewing the tower's schematics in your mind was all you needed before you hit the stairwell, making your way to JARVIS' mainframe.

When you entered the small control room that housed the tower's systems and the source location of the A.I., you could hear someone already coming up behind you. Surely it would be Tony, coming to stop you, and he would be guaranteed to be wearing his suit, making it all that more important to disconnect JARVIS from the system. Your fingers danced across the panel and alarms began to sound as the system tried to stop you, attempting to get a step ahead of you without success; you knew each change it would make before it tried, and you were two actions even ahead of that.

"(Y/N), step away. You don't want to do this."

Your hands stopped immediately, your fingers hovering just over the glass of the screens. Normally you wouldn't hesitate to eliminate the interference, but something in the voice froze you in place. Something in it brought a crushing weight to your chest and a pain that you hadn't felt in years.

"Natasha," you greeted plainly, though still not turning to face her. "You know why I'm here. Why would they send you in alone?"

"I wasn't sent. I knew where you would go."

"Because you're just that damn good, right?" you hissed through clenched teeth. "The infamous Natasha Romanoff. The greatest assassin that the Red Room has ever produced. Little Miss Know-It-All, if you ask me." When you finally turned to face her, she was against the locked door with her weapon drawn, though not yet aimed at you. "You sure you want to be locked in here with me, Nat? I'm not the same girl you used to throw around like a dishrag."

"(Y/N), I...I thought you were dead." Her voice wavered just enough for you to notice and a rim of tears lined her lashes as she looked at you. She really did think that you were gone, and it came as a shock that she would be reacting this way.

"I'm sorry, why do you care? You defected and left me behind, Nat. You left me there so they could turn me into a lab rat. And now, because of you, I'm more powerful than you'll ever be." You took a few steps towards her but stopped when the rest of the team gathered on the other side of the door. "I'm more powerful than them."

"You don't need to do this, (Y/N). Let us help you."

"I don't need your help. You see, it's your overblown sense of righteousness that makes it so easy for me to kill you." When you took another step forward, she finally raised her gun. "You must get it from Steve. I mean, even those few minutes with him in the elevator gave me this weird sense of morality like it just oozes off the guy. I don't know how you stand it."

"Tony really balances that weight," she smirked. "You'd like him. He's a sarcastic asshole too."

"I heard that!" Tony's voice came muffled through the glass.

"Stark, not now!" Steve retorted.

"Listen (Y/N)," Nat continued, "I know that you and I didn't end on solid ground, but we really were friends, weren't we? You were the only one that I ever felt-"

"I have a clear shot," Clint's voice broke through their comms. "Just say the word."

"No! Clint, don't," Nat replied, taking her eyes off of you for the split second that you needed to drop her to the ground with a swing of your leg, grabbing her gun as she fell. Twisting her hair in one hand and the back of her shirt with the other, you yanked her harshly from the floor and secured her into a firm hold.

"You blinked."

"Say the word, Nat," Clint growled in her ear, "because I'm about to say it for you."

"I've...got this..."

"No you don't," you laughed. "I'm about to snap your neck, and you think you've got this?" You shifted a part of your focus to where the archer was perched over head in the air vents and willed the grate from the ceiling, dropping him with a hard thud onto the tile floor in a heap and his bow snapping in two under the force of his weight.

"You know, I could've killed you without laying a single finger on you," you said in a cool whisper, "but then I wouldn't get to feel it. I wouldn't get to wrap my hands around this pretty little throat of yours."

A resonating bang against the door jolted you, taking your prey with you as you spun to face the others. Steve was trying to break the glass with his shield while Tony worked frantically to get JARVIS back online to open it. "Boys, really, you're breaking my concentra-"

Natasha gasped for a breath when your fingers loosened and your hand slipped away, your body slumping onto the floor in unconsciousness at her feet. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw Clint standing over you with a grim expression and an arrow protruding from your back.

"I made a different call."

Part 2

Natasha stood with Clint outside of your room in the infirmary, waiting for you to wake from the sedative-tipped arrow that he had shoved relentlessly into you when you had Natasha in a death grip. They had been silent for nearly two hours, watching the doctor care for your wound, monitoring your vital signs and waiting just as eagerly as they were. They all knew that when you woke to leather restraints, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"You made a different call?" she finally snapped, breaking the tense silence.

"I thought that was clear."

"You could have killed her, Clint."

"She was going to kill you first, Natasha."

"I...I had it under control," she said much quieter with a reaffirming nod, more to convince herself than him.

"Oh, really?" he laughed, throwing his hands into the air with complete frustration at her attitude. "So that tinge of blue that was around your lips, that was what, some new fashion statement you were trying out? She had you. Just admit it so we can move on."

"Move on? Like this was nothing and we'll just chalk it up to some mission that we finish and close the books on? Clint, she's the last one..." she paused, her voice tremulous and fading.

"The last what?" He spat, now growing more exasperated with each minute. When she refused to look at him and only shook her head in response, he had finally had enough, grabbing her arms and spinning her roughly to face him. Her gaze stayed to the ground and it did nothing but anger Clint even more; he pinched her chin in his hand and pulled it up to make her to look at him with a force that caused her to wince quietly. "Nat, the last what?"

"The last one who understands," she broke with a hint of tears building in her eyes. "She's the last of my trainees. The last survivor of the Red Room. And I just...I left her there."

~~~

"You're a traitor!"

"(Y/N), please, come with me. This isn't a life. We are meant for so much more than this."

"Is that what he told you?" you hissed with a look of disgust in your expression. "That SHIELD agent? That you could be a good person? That you could help people? I'm sorry, Natasha, but we aren't built that way. We have a clear purpose, and it's only a matter of time before you fail and come running back home."

Natasha nervously glanced over her shoulder at the sound of guards searching the grounds for her and approaching rapidly. Sirens and floodlights filled the night around you, the cold air stinging your lungs with each breath with the wetness of your boots freezing and numbing your toes as you stood watching her.

"(Y/N), I don't want to leave you here."

You growled in frustration and took your gun from its holster, aiming it at her with only a few feet between you; it was a guaranteed shot if you were to take it. "I can't allow you to leave. If you take another step..." your voice wavered and cracked slightly when your own resolve began to slip, "then...then I can't let you...come on Nat, please...I can't shoot you."

"Then don't."

She raised her hands in front of herself and began to take small steps back, testing each one to gauge your reaction. With each step survived, she took another, and another, and another. Soon she stopped and regarded you for just a second, trying to convey wordless emotions and everything she had left to say before finally turning and breaking into a full sprint and out of your sight.

~~~

After Clint had gone, Steve took his place at Natasha's side, seeing that you were beginning to wake; as expected, the restraints weren't exactly appreciated. "You sure about this?" he asked with one hand on the door and ready to assist the medical staff in holding you down to secure you further. "We can do it. No one will think any less if you sit this one out."

"Get out of the way, Steve," she replied flatly and pushed past him, moving directly to your side and gripping your wrists with a force that made you whimper as quietly as you could. "Lay still, (Y/N), or we do this the hard way."

"I'm almost tempted just to see what you've got."

"We have a Hulk."

You pushed against the restraints, though her grip wasn't about to be released no matter how hard you fought. The sedatives were still holding an effect and your muscles were weakened with fatigue, leaving your mind cloudy and sluggish. "Okay, let's rain check on the green guy," you sighed heavily, dropping back onto the gurney without resistance and allowing them to secure the straps further. "Normally, I'd totally be into this," you smirked with a wink to Steve, who immediately flushed red in his cheeks and turned away. "I like a firm hand. I've had my eye on yours since I got here, Cap." He didn't engage and started to walk away, but you felt like causing more mischief today and called out after him, "don't lie to yourself, Steve. You know you thought it was hot when I had you pressed up against that wall. I could tell."

"(Y/N), that's enough," Natasha interfered with a roll of her eyes. "Leave Steve out of this."

You let out a small yelp of pain and surprise when Steve had returned and yanked your ankle restraints with so much strength that they threatened to tear in his hand, and small cuts of rough leather ripped at your skin. "Is that what you like?" he asked in a low voice and sounding eerily calm, his darkened eyes boring through you as he waited for your answer. "Answer me." You were taken by such surprise that all you could do was barely muster a whisper in return.

"Yes."

"Good," he replied coolly, "because until you can behave yourself, no one loosens them until I get back. Understand?"

"Yes, Captain."

"That's more like it," he nodded to Natasha with a barely noticeable curl of a grin at the corner of his lips as he walked past her. It was clear that she had no idea what had just happened, and was struggling to regain her focus now.

"Okay...um...I don't know what the hell that was," she mumbled to herself, securing the other wrist. "But if that's something you're interested in, you need to make a major change in your ways, (Y/N)."

"I'm too far gone, Nat," you declined, "that was just in fun."

"I thought I was too far gone too back then, but Clint helped me and gave me a chance. Made me see a better life."

"You mean arrow guy? He was the SHIELD agent who got you to defect? The one who so rudely speared me like we were in the dark ages? Seriously, Nat. Who even does that?"

"Probably someone with a broken bow, I would imagine," she smirked, crossing the room to take a chair in hand and bring it next to you to take a seat. "Steve would help you."

"Steve would do a lot of things with me."

Natasha chuckled, but wouldn't allow herself to respond too eagerly, not knowing if you were playing her or if you were being genuine in the moment. She really wanted to believe that you could just be yourself, the you that she knew, but so much time had passed and the events of the day didn't bode well for trust building. "Don't tell him I said this," she leaned in to whisper, "but I think you read him right. He could use some time with someone like you."

"Tempting."

"Then come on, (Y/N), awkward thoughts about Steve aside," she grimaced, "think about it. You could stay here, make friends, have a family. Things that we thought we would never have."

"If I don't go back with a confirmed kill, Nat, you know what they'll do to me. You know."

"We'll protect you. I'll protect you, with everything I have." Natasha leaned in closer and released one of your wrist straps, taking your hand in hers and looking at you with earnest and pleading in her eyes. "Please, (Y/N). I miss my best friend, you know. I even said that completely sober," she smiled.

"Oh, Romanoff, you do have great puppy dog eyes, but with the risk, I don't know..." you paused, considering your options; you wondered if they could offer enough protection to not get you killed even though you could likely do better on your own. There was a part of you that had grown weary of the assassin life, but it was the only life you knew. Would you be bored here, playing the hero? You opened your mouth to reply, but Steve had returned and captured your full attention with his command of the room. And of you.

"So, have we learned anything today?" he asked sternly, looking down at you and giving your ankle straps another firm tug. "Do I need to go tighter, or are you going to do as you're told, (Y/N)?"

"I'll do as I'm told," you gasped.

"Excuse me?"

"Captain."

Natasha was in a complete stupor with her mouth open in shock and watching wordlessly as Steve opened the restraints and carefully removed them as to not cause further damage to your skin. His fingers grazed over them slowly and a sorrowful look crossed his expression, "maybe not leather next time," he mumbled in a barely audible voice and turned to leave.

You sat motionless until he was gone, releasing a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding when the door closed behind him. "Yeah...I'm definitely in."