The Witch or the Widow: Old Wounds

Chapter One: Old Friends, New Enemies

"Are you ready kid?" Barton's voice rang out through the narrow, empty corridor, catching me off-guard. I turned my head to the archer, glancing at his tactical outfit as he approached, analyzing him swiftly.

"I don't know about this," I murmured softly. Clint rests a hand on my shoulder, using it to propel me forward.

"This was the deal you agreed to with Fury," he reminded me. I didn't need to be reminded.

"I know, but I work better alone," I said. Clint paused long enough to look me in the eyes.

"I know you could be an asset here, Bex. That's why you're standing here right now and not..." his voice trailed off. I remembered the other option quite well. I took a deep breath, unsure of what to expect, but nodded and followed him through a doorway that opened into a wide, open living area, surrounded by couches, a bar in one corner, a piano in another. Various people were scattered around the room, exchanging stories, pleasantries, and conversations. The redhead in the corner was eyeing you with what looked like a mixture of surprise and suspicion. Clint's hand on your shoulder guided you towards the center of the room. He cleared his throat, waiting for the others to give him their attention.

"Avengers, I'd like to introduce you to the newest member of the team." He said, loudly. A semicircle of superheroes began forming across from where the two of you stood. You looked at each of them, in turn. "This is Bex – Ekaterina Becskei. She will be joining us." A broad shouldered, dirty-blond man nodded his head.

"I'm Steve Rogers," he introduced himself, extending a hand to shake. He had a firm grip, but so did I. His eyes widened slightly in surprise at the grip of our handshake before he retreated to his former position within the semicircle.

"Bruce Banner," a soft-spoken, dark haired man spoke from the corner. I nodded at him, returning his small smile.

"Thor Odinson, God of Thunder," the tall, muscly blond announced. As if he needed any introduction whatsoever. Were there any doubts, he clung to his hammer like his life depended on it. I turned my attention instead to the young woman standing next to him, her auburn hair slightly shining in the artificial light. She pulled her jacket sleeves down over her hands and stared at the ground.

"That's Wanda Maximoff," Clint gestured to her. She glanced up only slightly, and we exchanged a small smile.

"I'm the other Maximoff," a white-blond young man beside her announced. "The cooler one." I smirked at his confidence, and we shook hands quickly.

"I'm Tony Stark," the older gentleman next to Maximoff 2 announced impatiently. He shook my hand, but his gaze lingered as he glanced over me. "Welcome to my compound." I raised my eyebrows, and Clint scoffed behind me.

"He thinks he owns everything because he's rich," he explained, leaning closer to speak into my ear.

"No, I think I own everything because I literally paid for everything," Tony corrected, arrogantly. Next to him, the redhead. Clint gestured towards her.

"And that's Natasha Romanoff." The two of you stared at each other silently before she broke eye contact, excusing herself from the room. Clint frowned slightly but shrugged it off. "We've got a room ready for you," he turned to me, and I nodded.

"I'll show her," the voice was soft, feminine, with the hint of an accent. I looked up to see the female Maximoff walking towards us. She wouldn't look up at me, but she was talking so it appeared as though we were making progress. Clint nodded, smirking slightly as he gently pushed my shoulder towards her. I followed her silently out of the room, feeling the eyes on me as we departed. We got to an elevator, and she pushed the button, staring up at the floor buttons waiting for the doors to open. Once inside, she pushed the button for floor 4. "Your room is on the same floor as mine." Her voice was barely above a whisper.