Chapter Text
Soft footsteps halted outside of Nick Fury's office. Glancing up from his paperwork, Nick Fury made eye contact with the redhead who entered his room and gestured for her to sit on the chair opposite his desk. As per request, Natasha gingerly sat down on the chair, patiently waiting as Nick silently completed his task.
She looked around the unfamiliar room. Ever since S.H.I.E.L.D's collapse, Nick has never remained in one location for long. The air felt a bit damp, with the bunker being underground and all, and the atmosphere was slightly claustrophobic but it was significantly better than their last location (cockroaches and mice belong precisely within the centre of the Sun, not within a million miles of me. Or maybe inside a black hole). Natasha could feel her fingertips tingling just as her heart race increased. Fuck, not this again. Focusing on all the exit points currently accessible to her calmed her nerves.
Banishing her anxious thoughts, Natasha continued to scan the room, appreciating the glass walls that encompassed it. Whilst the mechanics of it allowed for Nick and his colleagues to view each other, it also could be made to become opaque in order to prevent the prying eyes of his colleagues from viewing him without compromising his own view.
The floor was a disgusting shade of blue that not only failed to hide, but exemplified the brown and orange stains that littered the carpet. The room was bare of any furniture barring the few chairs and desk and Natasha soon rested her attention on Nick as he hovered over some paperwork. His hands deftly circling and highlighting multiple sections on the pages with a variety of colours. In addition to this, there was an array of pictures scattered all over the cheap desk. I suppose there's some order to the chaos, Natasha thought.
'So," Nick leaned back in his leather chair, arms moving to rest behind his neck when he was finally done with his work. "How was the mission?"
Natasha raised an eyebrow and rearranged her legs so that the ankle of her right foot was placed comfortably on her left thigh. Tilting her head, she said, "More action than I'd like. Seems like all my missions lately are following this unfortunate trend."
"Don't I know it."
Natasha's lips quirked, "Is this my cue to ask about your day?"
"We have more pressing issues than the how my past 24 hours have been. Namely, Patricia Walker."
Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to remember why the name was so familiar. "Ah! Jessica Jone's friend? The blonde?"
"Yes. We've intel that indicates she may be an inhuman so we need you to check her out and if needed, control her before she potentially goes rouge."
"Why not set her up with Daisy or some other inhuman?" Natasha frowned.
"Within the month you've been gone we've lost contact with Daisy and her crew and we need to get someone on the case immediately." When Nick saw her burgeoning scowl he rolled his eyes and snapped, "And frankly, you need a break. I'm not going to sit back and watch as you work yourself to the brink of exhaustion and well past it. It's not healthy-," he waved off her protest and his voice softened, "and I care about you. So do me a favour and take this case like a Big Girl and deal with it. There'll be more missions for you when you're done."
Natasha bit the inside of her cheek and breathed in deeply to compose herself. "What do I need to know?"
He slid Patricia's file towards Natasha. She eyed the folder but made no movement to accept it. "It's all there. She made an appointment yesterday morning for a personal trainer at Visces to come to her place this Saturday."
Scoffing, Natasha said "So I'll assume the role of a trainer? How about I weave some story about how I'm actually a personal trainer by day and by night I'm an alien fighting, criminal turned government agent who may or may not be wanted by the United Nations. Coolio. Bet she'll be sold with that."
"That not too bad. And If needed, you always have the face changing mask," shrugged Nick.
Natasha breathed out a quiet laugh and looked down at her hands. "We really need to give it a proper name," she murmured.
"How's Changey McChange-Face then? That up to your standards?"
Giving him a faux affronted look, Natasha stood up and grabbed the file on his desk before turning and walking away. Just as her hand clasped the door handle, Natasha halted. Against all her instincts to continue walking out of the room, she reluctantly glanced back at Nick, chewing her lip. "Thanks for-," she paused and sighed, frustrated at her inability to vocalise her gratitude to the man.
Nick nodded understandingly before attending back to his work. Natasha slipped out of the room and mentally sent Nick a proper thank you. Logically, she knew that there was no point in doing so and that it probably makes her a little bit crazy, but for some reason Natasha felt compelled to express the emotions she was unable to vocalise to people in her mind. It allowed her some piece of mind to know that despite all the traumas she's endured, she hasn't been irreparably damaged.
Her trainers quietly treaded on the tiled floor as she made her way out the bunker. The file felt lighter and lighter as Natasha imagined how her next few months with Patricia would turn out to be. Only one way to find out.